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“Because you should always know that I believe in you, and we had some time.”

“Oh,” he says, and Leo feels the press of his alpha up against his side and a perfect nose in his neck. It’s a shame that they’re already wearing scent blockers, which isde rigueurfor The Pelican Golf Club.

Leo doesn’t add anything else, just grabs Jay’s hand and plays with his fingers until the car pulls up to the gated entry point.

“Ready?”

“Fuck, no. But I am not stopping now.” Jay sits up, throwing his shoulders back and donning his “game face.”

Leo’s seen it a thousand times, every time Long Road Home went infor negotiations; every time Luca’s dad demanded a visit from his Pack Alpha. It means business, and it means Jay is ready to ruin someone’s day if necessary.

The driver hands over their credentials at the gate, and they proceed up the drive toward the clubhouse at a snail’s pace.

Leo isn’t overly impressed by the large white building, as it looks like any other clubhouse on any other course in the USA. It lacks the timeless feeling of his father’s club at home. Maybe it’s that this is what the Rhodeses have stolen money to pay for. In that, Leo thinks it’s fitting; the outward trappings suit the nature of its members.

“Here we go,” Jay whispers to himself, before he turns to Leo and says in a much stronger voice, “Thank you for doing this with me, Leo.”

“Nowhere I’d rather be, alpha. Let’s go face the dragon.”

The chauffeur opens the door, and they’re met with a human, middle-aged woman dressed in a white golf shirt with the club’s name on the front. She wears an officious but welcoming smile on her face.

“Good morning, gentlemen! Welcome to the Pelican Golf Club. I’m Leah Nesbitt, President of Member Experience.”

Of what, now?

Jay pastes that smile on again and shakes her hand.

“Thank you for having us on such short notice. We are great lovers of the game. I’m Jay, and this is my…band mate, Leo.”

Leo wants to bare his teeth at the downgrading of his relationship status to a mere band-mate, but understands that the human woman would certainly raise eyebrows at anything else.

“Yes, yes, of course. Please follow me into the clubhouse. We have a tee time set for an hour from now, and I understand from your people that you both play under twenty handicaps. Impressive, impressive. I hope you don’t mind that we have a foursome today?” she continues as she leads the way through the foyer and straight toward the dining and lounge areas.

It was just shy of ten in the morning, and Mrs. Rhodes was sure to arrive for her mimosa any minute.

“Shall we have a small tour while we wait?” Leah asks.

“Actually, Leo and I were wondering if we might sit and enjoy a cup of coffee before we head out. We are both still battling jet lag.”

Coffee? Jet lag?

Boy, Leo’s alpha is smooth. It’s only made even more so when he adds a dimpled smile, so Leah Nesbitt doesn’t know what hit her.

“Oh, my,” she whispers, before gathering herself and straightening her shirt.

“Certainly. I’ll find us some refreshments.”

She shows them to a small table in the corner of the room, where they have an excellent view of the people who are coming and going.

“I’m surprised your mother hasn’t bragged about you enough that the staff is familiar with her famous son,” Leo murmurs.

“Let’s be grateful for small mercies.”

A human server brings them a tray of small pastries and two cups of coffee, which neither of them will be drinking. Leo enjoys his ice cold, and Jay not at all.

“Ms. Nesbitt got called away for a few minutes. She said she’ll be back to get you before your tee time.”

“Thanks,” Jay offers with a wink.