Wolf Untamed (SWAT - Special Wolf Alpha Team #11) - Paige Tyler Page 0,26
she had beautiful eyes. “If beta werewolves bond as tightly as Gage said, will Brandon go off and live with his alpha when they find each other? Please be honest. Am I going to lose my son?”
The pain in Bree’s voice tore at him, and yet Diego hesitated. That question was more complicated than it sounded. Jayna had been right when she’d talked about how tight betas became when they bonded with members of their pack. It was next-level stuff.
“When Brandon meets the werewolves he’s supposed to bond with, they will be close, but their pack bond will never replace the love a child has for their mother,” Diego said gently. “I’ve been a werewolf for eight years, and I see my mom at least once a week.”
Bree visibly relaxed, a small smile curving the corners of her lips. “Your parents live in Dallas then?”
He nodded. “My brother and two sisters live in the area, too. We all get together at my mom and stepdad’s a few times a month for dinner.”
“That’s awesome.” Her smile broadened. “My sister, Beth, lives with us. She moved in after the divorce to help out with Brandon while I went to work. I couldn’t imagine what I’d do if she ever moved back East where the rest of our family lives.”
Diego gazed down at their clasped hands, not having realized he was still holding hers. She didn’t seem interested in letting go, and neither did he.
“That guy at the diner—your ex,” Diego said. He wanted to tread carefully here, not sure if she’d want to talk about this or not. But when she didn’t shut him down, he plowed ahead. “I sort of got the feeling you and Brandon weren’t too comfortable around him.”
She snorted. “You could say that.” When he patiently waited for her to say more, she sighed. “I married Dave right after high school graduation. I was too young and foolish to realize what a controlling jerk he was until after Brandon was born. When Brandon was eleven, Dave went to prison for manslaughter and served five years, nearly six if you count the time served during the trial. Brandon didn’t have the best relationship with his father before he went to jail. I didn’t either, I guess. He got out a few months ago and…well, it isn’t any better than it was before.”
Five years didn’t sound like a lot for manslaughter. “How is he out on parole already?”
Her slim shoulders lifted in a shrug. “Who knows? I was surprised he got released so soon. Then again, it wasn’t like I kept tabs on him after he went to prison. We got divorced and I never looked back. We were married nearly ten years, have a child together, and I just walked away.”
Diego opened his mouth to point out that she’d done the right thing, that if her instincts told her to run, she was smart to listen to them, but Gage chose that moment to walk in.
“We got a call,” he said. “Silent alarm at Capital One Bank on Gaston. Looks like another barricaded suspect.”
“I’ll be right there.” Diego muttered a curse, then looked at Bree. “I gotta go.”
Bree nodded and pushed back her chair. “Don’t worry about it. You have a job to do, and Brandon and I need to get home.”
Outside, he was about to turn and tell her he’d check in with Brandon later when she put her hand on his arm.
“Can I see you again?” she asked. “Before the baby shower on Saturday, I mean.”
Diego didn’t know whether she was talking about going on a date or getting together so they could talk more werewolf stuff, but the mere idea of Bree wanting to see him again did some crazy things to his pulse.
“Yeah, of course,” he said.
“Great!” She smiled. “What do you think about coming over for dinner? My way of saying thank you for saving our lives.”
Diego had expected her to suggest grabbing a cup of coffee or something, but a home-cooked meal sounded even better. “I’d love to. I’ll give you my number so we can nail down a day and time.”
She gazed at him for a moment, then pulled her cell phone from her purse and held it out to him. “Tomorrow night works for me, if it’s okay with you?”
He handed his cell to her, then quickly typed his name and number in her contacts. “It’s a date.”
Or maybe it wasn’t a date. He still wasn’t sure. But Bree didn’t correct