A man materialises out of the crowd.
Tall, olive skinned, and well built with a neatly trimmed beard, long curls of black hair, and the darkest eyes you've ever seen on a person. He's holding what looks and smells like a glass of orange juice.
You watch as he reaches around the girl and plucks the notebook and pencil from her grasp. "No interviews. Go play with the other kids."
"But Dad... they're babies."
"So you can be the boss."
You doubt very much Izzie would allow that to happen, but you keep your mouth shut as you watch the girl sigh dramatically and stalk off towards the other children.
"I'm sorry about that."
"It's okay," you say. "Her interviewing strategy leaves something to be desired. I learnt a hell of a lot more about you than she learnt about me."
Next
The man looks at you then. And holy fuck, you didn't realise how tall he was until that moment. He might even be taller than Vicky.
"You're Gideon Mercer, right?"
"You know my name?"
"Shawnie won't stop talking about you."
"What does she say?"
"That you're hot."
Well shit. "She's been telling her whole pack that I'm hot?"
"Shawnie has never had much of a filter," he says and takes a sip of orange juice. You notice his gaze is flicking back and forth between you and his daughter, who is trailing unhappily along behind Izzie, JiAn, and Nik.
"That puts me at a bit of a disadvantage."
His eyes slip back to you. "How so?"
"I don't know your name."
"Farroq. Though you can call me Farro, everyone does." He holds out his hand. This close you can pick up the unique cadence of his scent, wolfish and warm.