Page 18 of A Pack of Mistletoe
“It is. I’ve got the scars to prove it.”
“What happened?” The smile fades. I regret the question instantly. “It’s okay. You don’t have to—”
He tips his head back. His voice hits the ceiling.
“National Finals Rodeo. Vegas. I had good odds. First day, bad rope wrap. Bull yanked me forward. I landed in front of it. Broke the femur. Got a bunch of rods in there now. TSA loves me.”
He tries to laugh, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.
“Jesus. You could’ve been killed.” I skim my fingers across the scar, reverent. The thought of himnotbeing here guts me. His hand tilts my chin again. His dark gaze softens.
“I’m okay, Sugarplum. Thought it was the end of the world. But it wasn’t. Things turned around.” He lets go. The loss is physical.
Wyatt tugs his pants back up, covering the scar. “Thank you. That actually helped a lot.”
I hand him his plate and settle beside him. The sandwiches are cold but still amazing.
“When did you join the pack?” I ask softly.
“When Logan came into the roadside diner I was working at about three years ago.” His smile is faint. “Owners didn’t care what I made, as long as it was hot and on time. So, I made what I wanted. Grandma taught me to cook. Traveling for bull riding gave me new flavors, new tricks. After the accident, it kept me sane.”
“You’re really gifted,” I say, honest.
He shrugs.
I bump his shoulder. “Youknowyou are.”
He grins, conceding. “Logan brought in Harlan. Asked me to cook for him. Harlan offered me a job launching their line of restaurants. I took it. We packed up not long after.”
“I’m glad you’re okay,” I whisper.
“Me too,” he says, eyes still on mine.
The space between us hums. One wrong move and I might lean in, just to see what his lips feel like.
Instead, I take a bite of my sandwich and stare at the wall.
Wyatt chuckles under his breath, like he knows exactly what I’m doing—and lets me.
Kai
We’re coordinating with lawyers to sign contracts and lining up suppliers today, so when my phone rings I just answer it without thinking.
“Kai Lee speaking,” I say, taking another document the guys hand me.
“Kai,” a deep voice says into the phone. Hot anger spikes through me. I haven’t talked to my father since I left for college. “I’ve heard you bonded the Morales girl.”
The Morales girl.Like he didn’t see her at every Christmas party, every birthday photo. Like she didn’t practically live in my childhood bedroom before our parents decided it was inappropriate.
I scan the restaurant and find Harlan. He’s talking to a vendor. I whistle loud and sharp. He looks up, meets my eyes, and sees my anger—he immediately breaks off and crosses the room.
“What do you want, Father?” I ask.
“I want you to break off this folly. The Blackbear Pack won’t just blame her family, they will blameours, do you understand?”
I understand, I just don’t give a fuck. I’d sacrifice anything to protect Rosie. In truth, I don’t keep contact with my family anymore. They made their feelings clear when I walked away from the family business. The one time I came to them searching for Rosie after she disappeared, they turned me away. We aren’t family, not in any meaningful way.
“You will—” my father starts, but I cut him off.
