Page 15 of Fastlander Fighter

“With his mistress,” she said. “It’ll be a big show.”

“Mmm. We can make it a bigger show.”

She belted out a laugh at the naughty expression he wore. “Shit-starter.”

“That part will never change.”

“I believe it.” She sighed and looked back at her truck.

“Pleeeeease,” Ruger begged.

“Pleeeeease,” Captain said softly.

Sloane crossed her arms over her chest and tried to hold out, but both of these boys were terribly cute when they begged. “Fine.”

“I probably need your number so you can give me the address to the game.”

“Mmm-hmm.”

He pulled his phone out of his pocket and opened up a new contact form, then handed her his phone for her to enter her information. She did, and he called her immediately. Her phone rang in her purse at her hip.

“Just making sure you didn’t give me a fake number,” he said.

“You probably have four million numbers in your phone,” she pointed out. “Mine isn’t that important.”

“Oh, we’re friends now, Middleson. I’m in the cheering section for your kid. The number is essential.”

“Just friends,” she said as he began to walk away.

“Of course.”

“I need to focus!”

“Sure, sure.”

“Captain.”

“His name is Cap!” Ruger yelled. Good gah, did her kid have shifter hearing?

“Captain!” she called as he strode for a big, jacked-up silver Ram truck at the edge of the parking lot. “I’m serious! No complications!”

“Text me when Ruger goes to bed,” he called over his shoulder.

“Oh my gosh,” she murmured to herself, wiping her damp cheeks. She made no sense right now, smiling and crying and questioning everything and also hoping he was being serious about texting him later.

Captain was playing with her, right? Just like in high school. Cat and mouse, and she was the mouse? Or bear and human?

She was a single mom who had been raked over the coals and wasn’t even recognizable, and he was a six foot five, muscled-up titan with his own collector’s card and a Crew that was gaining fame, with a big job and the confidence of a predator that knew his exact place in the world—at the tippy-top of the food chain.

Complicated didn’t even begin to describe them.

“Is Cap coming to my game?” Ruger asked as she slid behind the wheel.

“Probably not, but maybe,” she offered as she watched Captain peel out of the parking lot. The man still had a lead foot.

“Why probably not?” Ruger asked.

Because he was a man, and men didn’t follow through? Ruger didn’t need to hear that though.

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