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One of the things (there are many) that set Leo’s early life apart from that of his mates is his life of luxury. Part of that life had been learning to love the game of golf.

He and his father had spent many quiet mornings on the golf course together, watching the mist fade from the fairway or the occasional spot of wildlife that had mistaken the pristine course for actual nature’s habitat.

It was time for just the two of them, and Leo will treasure those memories for a lifetime.

This, however…this is not that.

They’d woken in various states of debauchery after Nix had jump-started a literal orgy rivaling those of Caligula in the nest on a regular Tuesday, and there had been groans brought on by the aches and pains of a satisfying night.

Leo felt surprising discomfort in the insides of his thighs and triceps.

Worth it, though; no question.

They’d wanted to get to the club so they could catch Mrs. Rhodes coming out of her yoga class and before her tennis lesson, and, if Jay was right, she had never changed the timing of those things—not in ten years.

Margot had arranged a car to pick them up from in front of a house two blocks over near the high school, so as not to pinpoint their temporary den to anyone watching. They had yet to get the upper hand over Carnell and didn’t want the black SUV convoy showing up unexpectedly and unannounced.

However, would their arrival ever be good timing ?

Not likely.

Leo hopes Jay and Gideon have a plan for how this takedown is going to go and that they’ll share it with the group soon. Being left in the dark rankles—as Leo is a planner— and not knowing any part of the master plan goes against everything he stands for.

He and Jay had found golf-worthy attire in the back of the car, thankful that Margot’s reach had extended to this, too. With so much time spent in T-shirts and sweats, it felt great to wear something a bit fancier, even if they were changing in the back of a limo.

“Looking good, Leo,” Jay offers, as he adjusts Leo’s wayward collar. He follows it up with a finger down over the S/L emblem on Leo’s pec. “Handsome.”

“You too, alpha.”

Jay sighs, running a hand through his curls.“Wish we were playing a round for real. I know how you love that.”

“For real? I know how you don’t.”

It was true. Jay did not love golf. Not enough running, chasing, scoring, or violence.

It’s not that Jay wasn’t good at golf; he was a solid twelve handicap pretty consistently when they played socially with Leo’s dad, which is better than Leo’s respectable sixteen.

No, there’s nothing Jay doesn’t do well once he sets his mind to it.

“Yeah, of course. You know I like it when you like it.”

Sometimes, Leo just can’t with this man.

“Why are you so perfect?” Leo asks.

Jay barks out a laugh.

“What!? Why would you say that? I am so far from perfect.”

“No. I’m serious. If I’ve never asked before, it’s been a gross oversight on my part.”

“Now seems like a good time to ask?” he laughs again.

“You know me, no time like the present.” Leo shrugs. It had been impulsively asked; a joke, even though the sentiment was real.

“Leo. I am not perfect.”

“No. No, you are. Sensitive and loving. Self-sacrificing and loyal. Brilliant and talented. Hot as fu–”

“Stop. Seriously. What did you do, and how much will it cost?”

“Oh, fuck you. I can buy my own shit. I am serious here. We have ten minutes.”

“I. Am. Not. Perfect,” Jay argues and crosses his arms.

Leo would be more likely to believe he was annoyed instead of flattered if his ears weren’t bright red.

“You didn’t let me finish. You have a perfect dick. Perfect; and have I mentioned how much I love it? That thing you do when you—”

“That’s enough,” Jay interrupts. “I do not want to meet my mother with a hard-on.”

Leo laughs when his alpha adjusts himself in the too-tight golf pants. No one ever accounts for his alpha’s juicy peach of an ass when choosing outfits or costumes. At the last concert they had, Jay blew out the inside seam of his jeans in front of eighty thousand people.

“I am serious, though. You are the ideal man and the best alpha. The best of men.”

“Why are you doing this now?” Jay whispers, and his sweet, sensitive mate’s eyes are damp.

Why? Well, his sweet, sensitive mate is about to face the dragon in her den, and Leo would be remiss if he didn’t arm the hero with weapons of fortitude beforehand.

“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 is de rigueur for 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 in for 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.

One more flirty interaction and Leo is going to show Jay who his mate is for real.

“Ugh. Let’s not wield your full charm with random humans, please, and thank you,” Leo mutters, and smooths his wolf’s ruffled ego.

“Sorry, babe,” Jay chuckles, but stops abruptly.

There, across the room, laughing with two of her friends, is Jay’s mother. Blonde hair in a high ponytail and wearing a short white dress in preparation for her tennis lesson.

Leo wonders how bad a player you had to be to need a decade’s worth of weekly lessons.

“Mother,” Jay says quietly.

None of the other patrons pay him any mind, but it does, however, get Miranda Rhodes’s immediate attention.

She’s lovely in her own way, and if Leo didn’t know any better—that the beauty hid the heart of a snake—he’d think she was sweet-looking. Her face breaks into a surprised smile before it falls, replaced with a look of abject fear.

It’s the only way to describe the panic on her face and how she leaves her two friends standing in the restaurant, still talking to her.

“Junior. Oh god. What are you doing here?”

“Well, hello to you, too, Mother. You remember my mate, Leo?”

“No. You have to go. Right now. Come on.” She grabs Jay’s wrist and hauls him to his feet, and before Jay can pull away, Leo has her wrist in his.

“Let go of him. Right now,” he growls.

“Jamie. Please. You have to leave before he sees you.”

“Who, Mom? Patrick Carnell?”

She blanches and shakes her head.

“Not him. Your father. He’s here for a round of golf with some visiting celebr—oh, no. It’s you?” Her eyes squeeze shut, and she whimpers.

“Mom? What’s going on?”

“Please, just go. I’m not sure why you came here or what you expected from us, but you have to go.”

“You aren’t going to ask after me? It’s been a decade since I’ve seen you in person. Don’t you want to know why I called in October? About Nix Rena?”