Page 9 of Mismatched Mates (Special Bear Protectors)

JANE

T he afternoon sun painted my kitchen in warm hues as I finished cleaning the kitchen the Monday after my weekend with Heather. I savored the quiet, my fingers wrapped around a steaming mug of chamomile tea. Who knew peace was as simple as freshly washed laundry and a silent house.

A sharp knock interrupted my thoughts. I groaned, contemplating ignoring it. Maybe if I stayed very still, they'd think the house was empty and go away. Another knock. No such luck.

I padded to the door, swinging it open to reveal a courier, looking about as thrilled to be there as I was to see him.

"Jane Rider?" he asked, thrusting an envelope at me.

"That's me," I said, accepting the package. "Thanks, I guess."

As the courier retreated, I eyed the envelope suspiciously. It looked official, which in my experience, was never a good sign. My stomach did a little flip as I tore it open, my fingers betraying me with a slight tremble.

"What the hell is this?" I muttered, scanning the document. My eyes widened as the words sank in, each line feeling like a punch to the gut.

Jason. Suing me. For half my business. And custody of our sons.

I blinked, certain I must be hallucinating. But no, the words remained stubbornly unchanged.

"You've got to be kidding me."

The sheer audacity of it all hit me like a freight train. Jason, who couldn't be bothered to show up for his own sons' birthday, now wanted custody? Jason, who'd abandoned us without a second thought, suddenly cared about the business I'd built from the ground up?

I leaned against the doorframe. A hysterical laugh bubbled up in my throat. Of course. Of course, this would happen now, just when things were starting to look up.

I glanced at the clock; just a few minutes until the boys got home from their after-school activities. Not long enough to have a proper meltdown, that's for sure.

Right on time, the back door flew open with a bang, and Brandon and Lance tumbled in, a whirlwind of energy and boyish enthusiasm.

"Mom! You won't believe what happened at school today!" Lance exclaimed, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

I plastered on what I hoped was a convincing smile, opening my arms to pull them both close. "Oh yeah? What's got you two so worked up?"

As Lance launched into a story about playground antics, I caught Brandon's eye. My quieter son was studying me intently, his brow furrowed in concern. Sometimes I swore that kid could see right through me.

"Everything okay, Mom?" he asked softly, cutting through his brother's chatter.

I swallowed hard, tightening my embrace. "Of course, sweetheart. Everything's just fine." The lie tasted bitter on my tongue, but I forced myself to maintain the facade. They didn't need to know.

I tossed and turned all night, my mind a carousel of worst-case scenarios. By the time my alarm blared, I felt like I'd been hit by a truck – a truck filled with anxiety and legal papers.

Grant and I had agreed on a coffee date before the gala to help sell the ‘reality’ of our relationship.

The Apple Pie Diner was its usual bustling self when I trudged in the next morning. The familiar aroma of bacon and coffee that usually made my mouth water now just turned my stomach. I slid into a booth, grateful Grant wasn't there yet. I needed a moment to collect myself.

"Coffee, hon?" Marge, the ever-present waitress, appeared at my elbow.

"Please," I croaked. "And keep it coming."

As she poured, I caught sight of my reflection in the chrome napkin dispenser. Yikes. I looked about as good as I felt.

The bell over the door chimed, and in walked Grant, looking unfairly put-together for this early hour. His gray eyes scanned the diner before landing on me, and I swear the temperature in the room went up a few degrees.

"Morning, sunshine," he said, sliding into the seat across from me. "You look..."

"Like death warmed over?" I supplied helpfully.

He chuckled. "I was going to say 'in need of caffeine,' but sure, let's go with that."

I wrapped my hands around the steaming mug, savoring its warmth. "Sorry. Rough night."

Grant's brow furrowed. "Want to talk about it?"

I opened my mouth, then closed it again. How could I dump all of this on him? Our whole "relationship" was just for show, after all.

Before I could say anything, Marge reappeared. "You two lovebirds ready to order?"

And just like that, the moment was gone. I forced a smile, acutely aware of the curious glances from the other patrons. "Just toast for me, thanks."

As Marge bustled away, I caught Grant's eye. He was watching me intently, like he was trying to solve a puzzle.

"Jane," he said softly, "what's really going on?"

I fidgeted with my napkin, twisting it between my fingers as I searched for the right words. I leaned in, my voice barely above a whisper. "Jason's suing me. He wants half the business and the boys."

A group of elderly ladies at the next table openly stared at us. I shot them a look, and they quickly busied themselves with their menus.

Grant's jaw tightened, and his gray eyes darkened with an intensity I hadn't seen before. "He left you," Grant said, his voice low and controlled. "He's got no right to anything. Not the business, and sure as hell not the boys."

I nodded, feeling the weight of the world pressing down on my shoulders. My usual snark deserted me, leaving me feeling small. "I know," I said, hating how vulnerable I sounded.

"Jane," Grant said, leaning in closer. "Look at me."

I reluctantly raised my eyes to his, surprised by the fierceness I saw there. For a moment, I could see the wolf beneath the surface, protective and loyal. It stirred something in me, an unexpected warmth.

Grant reached across the table, his hand covering mine.

"He's also got me to deal with," Grant said, his voice low and intense. "Leave it to me. I'll handle him."

I blinked, taken aback by the darkness in his tone. "Grant, I can't ask you to?—"

"You're not asking," he cut me off. "I'm offering. That's what boyfriends do, right?"

“What are you going to do?”

“It’s better if you don’t know.”

That didn’t sound good, or even legal. I considered questioning him but decided against it. I needed all the help I could get and I wasn’t in a position to have qualms about where it came from.