Page 23 of Mismatched Mates

"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.

GRANT

Ipulled up to Jason's ranch-style house in my Porsche, the engine's purr fading to a whisper as I cut the ignition. The cookie-cutter houses lining the street seemed to mock me with their groomed lawns and picket fences. How oddly fitting.

The gravel crunched under my boots as I strode up the walkway. I raised my fist to knock, but before I could, the door swung open. And there stood Jason in all his disheveled glory, whiskey tumbler in hand and a smug grin plastered on his face.

"Well, well, if it isn't the big bad wolf," he drawled, leaning against the doorframe. "Come to huff and puff and blow my house down?"

I brushed past him, my nose wrinkling at the stale smell of booze and regret. The living room was a mess, empty bottles and takeout containers scattered everywhere. Looked like someone was living his best bachelor life.

"Let's cut the crap," I said, turning to face him. "You know why I'm here."

Jason took a long swig from his glass, his eyes never leaving mine. "Enlighten me, Cujo."

I took a step closer, satisfaction blooming in my chest as he instinctively backed up. "You're going to back off, Jason. You’re going to drop this lawsuit and leave Jane alone. You had your chance, and you blew it."

“She’s my ex-wife, and that business was built during our marriage. I’m entitled to my share.”

“You walked away from her and your kids. You're not entitled to anything.”

"And what if I don’t feel likecooperating?"

I smiled, all teeth and no warmth. "Then I'll show you why wolves are at the top of the food chain."

Something in Jason snapped. His face contorted with rage, and before I could react, he lunged forward, shoving me hard. I stumbled back, more surprised than hurt.

"Let’s see about that!" he roared.

And then it happened. The air crackled, and I felt the familiar pull of the shift. In response, Jason's eyes glowed amber, his fingers elongating into claws.

I didn't hesitate. Years of training kicked in, muscle memory taking over as I launched into action. My body morphed with lightning speed, bones cracking and reshaping, fur bursting through my skin. In seconds, I’d transformed into a massive wolf, a good foot taller than Jason's half-shifted form.

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