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“I don’t get it,” she said. “Her best friend is human, but she uses ‘vanilla’?” Shortened generations back fromplain vanilla human, it wasn’t a slur likewerewolf, but it wasn’t a flattering term either. Absolutely no way Leslie would ever use it to refer to Hannah.

“That’s Claire in a nutshell,” Ryker said. Now he was studying her too from across the bar. If she sensed their gazes through the partition, she gave no sign of it. “She can be tough. I’m prettysure there are things about her I don’t know. But anyway, she changed course overnight. Announced she was opening a blood bar. She already had the name for it.”

“And Tai couldn’t be part of her plans anymore.”

“He honored the monetary contract. But no, he couldn’t join her onsite. Couldn’t help her build a menu. Claire has over a dozen third-party vendors who purchase blood from voluntary human donors. Tai couldn’t even represent the company at their business sites.”

Leslie shook her head. Of course Claire would feel betrayed. “I’m sorry for both of them.”

“I pushed Tai for months to tell her the truth, but he still won’t do it. I told Claire that Tai had his reasons, and if she knew what they were she’d understand. But of course if youdon’tknow, it sounds like I’m taking his side over hers.”

“Her descriptors were really specific. Arrogant, rude, and fake?”

“Ah, yeah.” Ryker grimaced. “He always tries to look like nothing affects him, and sometimes what comes across is that he’s…above being bothered.”

She didn’t know what to say. She didn’t know Tai or Claire, but she felt so invested in a truce between them, maybe because of Ryker’s eyes as he told the story. “Maybe they’ll settle it someday.”

“I wish they would. Sometimes for my sake as well as theirs.” His laugh held a rusty sadness. “But mostly for theirs. Claire was pretty crushed. And of course refusing to explain himself…Tai made it worse. He kept saying, ‘she’s getting her money, Ryker,’ and I kept saying, ‘it’s not about the money, man.’”

Even if Tai dealt with embarrassment over his struggle, to burn a bridge with a friend in order to keep his secret… It seemed ridiculous. “I hope he tells her at some point.”

“It’s been three years. I’m not holding my breath.” Ryker stretched his legs under the table, and one of his feet bumped hers. “Ready to meet the parents?”

“You know, I was nervous on the plane, but now that I’m here…” Leslie pushed open the partition. “I’m looking forward to stories about Baby Ryker.”

He rolled his eyes. “Let’s do this then.”

Eighteen

As ready as Leslie thought she was, the nerves came back as she and Ryker got out of his sleek silver two-door and headed up the walkway. The stone-fronted farmhouse was adorned with a regal covered front porch and a longer covered porch on one side. The pine-green front door opened as Ryker stepped up onto the porch ahead of Leslie.

Laurence Maddox was the most human-looking vampire Leslie had ever seen in her life. His build was almost husky, and his face defied agelessness with smile lines that crinkled around his eyes as he stepped out onto the porch and engulfed Ryker in a hug.

“Good to see you, son!” His voice was velvet even as it boomed from his chest. He pounded Ryker on the back, then offered his hand to Leslie. “And it’s so good to meet you, Leslie. I’m Laurence.”

“It’s a pleasure, sir.”

“Now, none of that ‘sir’ business. I know you were raised by Southern folks the same as this one was”—he hooked a thumbin Ryker’s direction—“but please, first names are just better. Friendlier, you know.”

“Okay, Laurence.” She wanted to laugh, not at him but with him. He exuded a warmth realer than the politician’s charm she had anticipated.

“Now come inside and meet my lovely wife.”

Laurence motioned them ahead of him, into the house and down a hall hung with family photos. Leslie itched to pause and examine every one, but instead she followed Ryker. “I told her not to fuss, but she thinks she’s got to offer you food. It’s a Senna thing. You’ll get used to it.”

“Oh, I hope she didn’t go to any trouble.”

“She enjoys going to trouble. It’s her love language,” Ryker said with a wink over his shoulder.

The hall emptied into an open concept main level with a cathedral ceiling and exposed dark beams. The kitchen lay to the right, the den to the left, and ahead of them a wide doorwall onto the covered porch.

At the island that divided kitchen and den, Senna Maddox stood arranging slices of caramel cake on a glass plate shaped like a lotus blossom. The smile she offered Leslie could have held actual sunbeams. Her eyes were so striking, Leslie couldn’t look away—brilliant emerald green, sparked with gold just as Ryker’s eyes were sparked with silver.

“Here she is,” Senna said, and the velvet melody in her voice held a pleasant husky undertone. She abandoned the cake, beelined to Leslie, and took both her hands. “Hi, Leslie. I’m Senna. I’m thrilled to meet you.”

“Thrilled? You already sound like you’re conspiring,” Ryker said from behind her.

With a final squeeze Senna released Leslie’s hands and wrapped her son in her arms. “You’re too thin, honey. You’ve been working too hard.”