The Wild Wolf Pup (Zoe's Rescue Zoo #9)(86)

“Go with it, Lauren,” he says softly as his eyes fall to my lips. “Take the detour,” he whispers. His eyes travel back up to mine and he winks. That’s all it takes.

“Where are we going?” I question.

“Now, it wouldn’t be called a detour if you knew where we were headed, would it?” He bends his head, brushes his lips across mine. “Run away with me,” he whispers huskily against my mouth.

He didn’t have to ask, I’d always run with him.

Anywhere and everywhere.

An hour later, a chauffeur piled our bags into the trunk of a limousine while Riggs secured Eric’s car seat inside. I don’t know what brought on the unexpected getaway but I was going to take the detour. Just me and my boys.





Chapter Thirty-Three




Just me and my boys—and Mr. and Mrs. Montgomery. The polished couple or former couple, whatever their status, greet us, pulling open the door to the limousine after arriving at their house in Martha’s Vineyard.

As far as surprise go, Riggs nailed it. I never saw it coming and I’m not quite sure why we’re here since Riggs became tense the moment he stepped out of the car, ignoring his father’s hand he extended to him.

“Lauren, welcome,” Mr. Montgomery greeted, pinning his son with a sarcastic look as he raised his hand, turning over his palm to reveal my name scribbled on his skin.

Narrowing my eyes, I glance over my shoulder at Riggs, watching as he bites the inside of his cheek and stares daggers at his father. He moves Eric to his other arm and reaches behind him pulling a black Sharpie from the back pocket of his jeans.

“Well played, son,” Mr. Montgomery says amused.

“Roger will bring your bags to your room,” Lenore announces, making her son turn his gaze to her and lift an eyebrow.

“Roger still works for you? He’s gotta be close to eighty, right?”

“It’s impossible to find help like him anymore and your mother does love the way he makes a Bloody Mary,” Mr. Montgomery adds, smiling at his estranged wife who was sipping on a peppered rimmed glass with a stalk of celery as big as her head popping out of it.

“Please, he can never retire,” Lenore admonishes, glancing at Eric for the first time. “Hello there,” she fusses. I couldn’t tell if it was forced or genuine and neither could my son, turning his face to bury it in Riggs’ neck.

“He doesn’t like me,” she says.

“He doesn’t know you,” I reply, offering her a small smile when she frowns. “I guess this little getaway will change that though.”

I elbow Riggs as he grunts and mumbles under his breath.

“Come on, Eric, I’ll show you where Uncle Bones and I used to build forts and pretend we were soldiers,” he tells our son, walking passed his parents. Reaching the door, he pauses and turns to me. “You too, Kitten.”

“Dinner will be at seven,” Lenore calls to us as Riggs grabs my hand and pulls me away from his parents.

Dragging me through the mini mansion, Riggs takes off like a bat out of hell. Everything about him screams that he wanted to be anywhere but here, yet this was his idea—his surprise. The fun, easy-going guy I love disappeared and I was left with the part of him I knew very little about.

I dig my heels into the grass once we reach the backyard and force him to turn around and look at me.

“What are you doing?”

“What am I doing?” Widening my eyes, I questioned him. “What in God’s name are you doing?”

“Hanging onto what’s left of my sanity?” He offers, sighing as he repositions Eric in his arms. “This fucking place makes my skin crawl,” he admits, dropping onto one of the lounge chairs and placing Eric on his lap.

“Then why are we here?”

“I thought it would be nice to get away,” he says quickly.

Too quickly.

“The truth, Riggs,” I demand softly, crossing my arms under my chest as I take in the scenery, the rolling greens, the pool that sits gated to the left of the property and the custom built bar and grill area across from it. It’s beautiful here, the perfect getaway for a family yet the memories I can see us making aren’t the type of memories Riggs has of this place.

“We used to come here every summer,” he starts. “My father would lock himself away in his office and my mother would bang her tennis coach,” he sneers. “She’d come home from the country club and they’d fight. He’d accuse her, she’d deny it—they’d scream for hours. Bones’ mom would take us out here and we’d play for hours, pretend we were soldiers fighting against the bad guys. By the time the sun went down, my father was gone and my mother was sitting in her room nursing one of those Bloody Mary’s she likes so much.”

“I’m sorry,” I say, sitting beside him on the chaise lounge.

“Seeing them like this, pretending the last twenty-five years didn’t happen is fucking driving me insane,” he grimaces, placing a kiss to Eric’s head. “Sorry, I meant to say ducking.”

“They don’t seem at odds now,” I say thoughtfully. “Maybe they’ve made peace.”

His gaze turns soft as he props his chin on Eric’s head and stares at me. There was so much in his eyes—adoration, love, forever.