Liana had barely reached the front gates when she heard a familiar engine purr behind her.
She turned, already smiling.
Jason leaned casually against a sleek sky blue convertible, that he had bragged about last night while dropping her to the packhouse, and was now parked along the driveway. His arms were crossed, sunglasses perched on his nose like he owned the world - and, frankly, he did own a good chunk of the pack. His dirty-blond hair was windswept from patrol, grey eyes bright with mischief as they flicked over her.
“Borrowing a motorbike?” he drawled. “Wow. You disappear for five years and come back with a death wish.”
Liana scoffed. “I was going to borrow it. Temporarily. Responsibly.”
Jason lifted a brow. “You once raced a bike through a market square because the owner of s
