Pack Mentality: A Wolf Alone

Chapter 15

It was as different a bonding experience from the simulations at Vida's headquarters as fire was from ice, but Seth knew they needed both. Each was about apologizing and understanding, and while his mother's house was definitely not as high-tech as Vida's company—Holly still called whenever she had to reset her router—it had its own challenges. Seth's stepfather was away for work, so Roman offered to handle the barbecue so Seth could help his mother. "Think of it like territory," Roman said softly. "Your mom has a bunch of outsiders on her turf. She needs some reassurance."

"Excuse me. Who's the werewolf here?" Seth joked. "I'm pretty sure it's me."

Roman snapped the barbecue tongs at him. "I don't know, man. I killed it on that simulation."

"Yeah, after you fell right off the platform. And the rabbit also bounced off your head." Laughing, Seth handed Roman a plate of burgers so he could get started. "I think those ones on the side are for Becky."

"Your mom's really trying," Roman noted. "I give her credit. It must be hard. I know I can find it hard to give JoJo more freedom sometimes, and she's just got regular old human problems."

"I know." Seth barely got out of the way before Dean stepped out into the backyard with a tray laden with condiments, napkins, and utensils. "Need any help in there?" he asked as Dean headed for the large picnic table. Seth had always loved eating outside as a kid—possibly another wolf trait—and through every move, his mother had always done her best to make sure they had a patio set or at least a picnic table so they could liven up their spring and summer suppers.

"Only if you know how to translate gluten talk," Dean replied, grabbing the mustard bottle before it could fall off the tray. "That stuff makes no sense to me."

Oh shit. He had tried to tell his mother about Becky's dietary restrictions—and Dean's and Roman's, to be fair—but maybe he had missed something. Sharing a look with Roman, Seth hurried back into the house, but came to a stop just outside the kitchen. One benefit of werewolf hearing, he had discovered early on, was that he didn't have to get too close to eavesdrop.

"I couldn't find the brand Seth said you liked," Holly said, underscored by clattering utensils; Seth knew she liked to rearrange things compulsively when she was nervous. "But I looked online and made a note of some brands, and I took the list with me to the store—"

"It's fine, Holly. It's great. I use this brand too. I didn't mean for you to go through such trouble. I could have brought something with me." Seth could tell Becky was making an effort to tone down her accent. "I know I've got a reputation as a kitchen disaster," she added with a self-deprecating laugh, "but I'm not that bad."

"Oh, I'm sure you're a great cook!" Even though he couldn't see his mother, Seth could picture her cheeks going pink; he could feel her awkwardness from where he stood. "When I was having trouble finding ingredients, I was going to give up and ask you two to bring something along, but I really wanted to try on my own." Then she cleared her throat, and Seth froze. He recognized that signal all too well: it meant Holly was going to either make a declaration or a confession. "I wanted to learn. If Seth's going to meet with that pack more often, then that means you two will be visiting more often, I hope, so I want to make sure I have things here that you can eat."

Wow. Seth hadn't been expecting that at all. He had been bracing himself for something like Do you have an allergy or are you just one of those people who thinks gluten is bad for you? or In my day, there weren't so many restrictions to consider. You ate what was on your plate. His sigh of relief was so huge he nearly bumped into a plant stand and knocked it over.

Becky seemed equally stunned, because she was speechless for a moment. "Oh. That's very sweet. You don't have to worry about me; I usually make sure to have something on hand. But I really appreciate it. That's very kind of you."