The Wrong Man (Alpha Men 3)

“I’d worry about anybody foolish enough to expose themselves to a potentially dangerous animal.”

“Danger is my middle name,” he joked. And she shook her head.

“I’m all too aware of that,” she said quietly. “But if he acts out toward you, it’s a strike against him, and the more strikes he has, the more likely he is to be put down.”

Brand paled and glanced at the dog.

“Don’t say stuff like that in front of him. You’ll scare him. I’m pretty fucking terrified myself—I didn’t know what the stakes were.”

“How could you not? What do you think happens to the animals who can’t find homes? Space and resources are limited, Brand.”

“That’s barbaric,” he growled. His obvious agitation was starting to upset the dog, and he got up carefully and stepped out of the pen. He took Lia’s elbow and led her farther down the corridor.

“If it makes you feel better, your interactions with Trevor have been a lifeline for the dog. I’ve just heard that they’re reevaluating his rehabilitation potential,” Lia said, gentling her tone.

“He’s a great dog,” Brand said, looking relieved. “I’m glad he’ll have the opportunity to prove that.”

Lia tilted her head and ran her eyes over his disheveled form. He was wearing a pair of baggy running shorts that ended just above his knees, along with a T-shirt that looked damp in spots. His hair was also darkened—from water or sweat, she wasn’t sure which.

“How did you get here?” she asked curiously.

“Well, since I find myself without transportation lately, I started running again,” he said with a grin, the grooves in his cheeks deepening wickedly.

“You jogged here,” she repeated flatly.

“Nah, jogging is for pussies, I run. But it kind of wiped me out. It felt farther than it probably was. Which probably means I’m the pussy now.”

“Possibly because you’re still recovering?”

“I can’t keep using that whole recovery thing as an excuse not to get back into shape.” He shrugged.

“You planning to run home?”

“When I get my wind back,” he said, resting his hands on his hips.

Lia sighed. “I’m leaving in ten minutes, after I’ve visited my golden oldies. If you want a ride, be ready at that time.”

“Cool, I’ll hang out with Figaro a bit longer, then.”

“Figaro? Seriously?”

“What? I know all kinds of cultural and classy shit. My mom dragged me to countless operas when she found herself between boyfriends, husbands, or toy boys.”

“Your mother has toy boys?”

“Yeah, her current plaything is twenty-seven. Dumb as a bag of rocks, poor guy. And she’ll probably be on to her next young gun by the time I see her again.”

“How does that make you feel?” Lia asked, despite herself. Then reminded herself that they weren’t flinging anymore, so maybe it was okay to ask him personal questions now?

“As long as she’s happy, I have no beef with it. She gave up on the whole marriage thing after her fifth husband and tried dating for a while, but that didn’t work out, either. So she has her man, or boy, as it were, of the moment. Which seems to be working out well for her. It’s not harming anyone. If I thought they were taking advantage of her, I’d step in, but most of these guys are really, really lacking in the intellect department. And wouldn’t know how to mastermind a scheme to deprive her of her money if their lives depended on it. Mom’s not really interested in their brains, if you know what I mean. They offer a laugh and some companionship.”

“And she’s happy?”

“Happy enough.” Lia frowned as she considered the information. The notion of having a series of sex-only relationships, like the one she’d had with Brand, was not at all appealing to her, and she couldn’t fathom living her life going from one meaningless sexual encounter to the next.

It gave her some insight into Sam Brand, though. He’d grown up with a mother who went from one relationship to the next. No wonder he thought permanent relationships were a waste of time. He’d never seen one that worked.

“Why are you staring at me like that?” he asked suddenly, and Lia blinked.

“Like what?”

“I don’t know, like that. Like you’re trying to figure something out.”

“I’m not. I was just wondering what it was like growing up like that. Did you have a stable father figure in your life?”

“Aside from my actual father, you mean?” he asked mockingly, and Lia’s eyes widened.

“Oh, I didn’t know—”

“What, that I have a dad? Of course I do. Joseph Joshua Brand, JJ to his mates. Great guy. Gets along with everybody. Awesome dad . . . to his three kids from his second marriage. Me, I get to see him once a year . . . if that. I spent the occasional school holiday with him when I was a kid. Trying to fit in with his other family. God, my half brothers are stuck so far up their own arses, I’ll be shocked if they even know what the sun looks like.”