“That’s true,” Brendon confirmed while taking food off Ronnie’s plate—clearly to her annoyance. “The O’Neill Pride may not be in the Llewellyn ranks, but they are definitely feared and breed a lot of females. Personally, I agree with Dez. Some cat is being paid a lot of money to kill Mitch.”
“I’m surprised O’Farrell would even hire a woman. He doesn’t trust them to do anything but cook and—” He stopped talking when he looked up to see Sissy and Ronnie staring at him. “Forget it.”
“He may not have hired her. You do have a bounty on that big head.”
“You could stay lion all the time.” Now everyone stared at Ronnie.
“Why?” Sissy had to ask.
“I’m sure O’Farrell wants proof of Mitch’s death before he’ll pay up. And this lioness would know if she kills him as cat, he stays cat. Not like she’ll be able to prove dick then.”
“Wow.” Mitch nodded in approval. “That’s not remotely as stupid as it sounds.”
“Thanks.”
“But I can’t.” Mitch took a roll off Sissy’s plate, and she debated chopping his hands off.
“Why not?”
“Can’t play if I’m cat all the time.”
“Play?” Brendon glanced between them. “Play what?”
Sissy glanced at the clock on the wall of her brother’s diner. “Lord, Mitchell, we better move if we’re gonna make this practice on time.”
“Practice?” Brendon’s eyes narrowed. “Practice for what?”
Mitch gave a dramatic sigh. “You’re not gonna believe this, bruh, but in order to stay here, I have to play football.”
Sissy saw Ronnie wince seconds before Brendon’s hand slammed against the table. “How come he gets to play?”
“Now, darlin’,” Ronnie rubbed his forearm, “there’s no use gettin’ upset.”
“It’s not fair. I’m as good as him.”
“Is that why they call you Mr. Fumble Paws?”
Sissy barely ducked in time as that roll came flying at her head courtesy of Ronnie Lee.
“What? It was just a question.”
Chapter 12
Sammy Ray stormed into his brother’s shop while the big bastard was getting ready to get out to the field for practice.
“You’re making him play football?”
Travis barely glanced at him. “Don’t see what it is to you, Sammy Ray.”
“She’s your sister.”
“She doesn’t have to play.”
“You know what I mean.”
“Look, I didn’t tell her she had to leave. But it’s not safe to have him here.”
“But you’ll let him stay if he plays ball?” That only made sense in Travis’s universe.
“I’m willing to take the risk if he’s as good as she promises.”
Donnie walked out of the office and stopped. He stared at Sammy, and Sammy stared right back until Donnie looked away.
“Meet you outside.” Then Donnie was gone.
Lord, Bobby Ray and Sissy had the right idea. Leave this town and their crazy ways. Because really, Sammy didn’t know how much more of his big brother he could take.
“I’ll say it again, Travis. She’s your sister. And if she needs help, that’s all that should matter. I don’t care who she brings home with her.”
“Let’s face it, little brother, Sissy Mae is a—”
Sammy held up his hand, cutting Travis off. He loved his baby sister and wouldn’t let anyone call her that. At least not to her face. Or his. “Let’s understand each other, Travis. You call her what you’re about to call her, and it’ll be a dark day for both of us. Understand me?”
Travis shook his head. “Always protecting her.”
“Only from you. She or that cat shouldn’t have to do a damn thing to stay here, and you know it.”
“But he will.” Travis picked up all his stuff to bring to the field and walked over to his brother. “And if you have a problem with that, little brother, you’re more than welcome to do something about it.”
When Sammy didn’t say or do anything, Travis snorted and walked out.
“I can’t believe I’m back here again.” Sissy looked around the huge football field. The town boasted several. One for midget football, one for the junior high and high school kids, and this one, which was reserved for town-against-town battles. Every Saturday during her summers growing up in Smithtown had been spent here. When she and Ronnie Lee had left, she swore never to come back to this damn field. But here she was.
And the Smithtown Field wasn’t just a plain old field with some markers up to show boundaries. It was a low-level outdoor stadium where any semipro team would be proud to play.
Even though the home game against the bears wasn’t until the Saturday after next, they still sold the usual hot dogs and burgers during all practices for those who came to watch. But Sissy and Ronnie bypassed that for a couple of hot coffees from the Starbucks across the street.
As they walked toward the cushioned bleachers, Sissy looked over and watched Mitch catch a perfect pass. She knew he still hurt a bit, but he didn’t show it. Instead, he caught the ball and looked downright bored by the throw.
She smiled.
“So what’s going on with you and Mitch?”
Startled, Sissy glanced at her friend. “Nothing. Why?”
And that’s when her best friend of more than twenty-five years slapped her in the back of the head.
“Ow!” Sissy stopped walking and glared at Ronnie. “What was that for?”
“Because you’re an idiot, Sissy Mae Smith.”
Sissy didn’t understand Ronnie sometimes. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about ... shit.”
Immediately, Sissy checked her bare feet. “Where? I don’t smell anything.” But when Sissy looked back up, Ronnie wasn’t looking at the ground but behind Sissy.
She turned and looked up into eyes she would have done anything for ... when she was sixteen.
“Gil.” Her ex.
He smiled. “Hey, sweetheart.”
Mitch easily caught the ball, and he could tell by the wolf’s face that he really thought he’d motored that ball right at him. Canines. Ya just had to love ’em.
They’d started off taking it easy on him because they knew he was still healing. But that didn’t last long when nothing they did seemed to faze him.
“You up to trying a few passes?” Travis asked.
After finally meeting Sissy’s brother, Mitch knew for sure he didn’t like the guy. Where Smitty had a heart, Travis had nothing but an empty hole.
Mitch moved his shoulder around. It hurt, but if he soaked it tonight, the pain would be tolerable in the morning. “Yeah. Sure.”
Travis motioned one of the guys out, and Mitch threw the ball. The wolf caught it, but was slammed back several feet. Startled, he looked at Travis.
“Not bad.”
“I know.”
“I’m sure my sister told you the requirements for staying.”
Mitch smiled. “Let’s face it, Smith. You need me more than I need you. Especially if you want to win against the bears. Right?”
“Yeah. And?”
“I’ll play.”
“But what do ya want? ’Cause I know you want something.”
“My brother on the team.”
Travis’s mouth dropped open, and for a brief moment, he lost that annoyingly cool expression he seemed to wear at all times. “Fumble Paws? Forget it.”
“Make him offensive line. He’ll never have to touch a ball. But either he’s in ... or I’m out.”
Travis glanced over his shoulder at Bren sitting on the bench ... well, it was more like pouting on the bench.
“And make it sound like ya mean it.”
Letting out a sigh Mitch often heard from Sissy, Travis called out, “Hey, Shaw, you want in?”
Bren sat up straight. “Me? Yeah!”
He charged out on the field like he’d been called to
pick up his Olympic gold medal.
“This better work,” Travis snarled at Mitch.
“Leave him with me.” Mitch looked around for Ronnie so he could let her know. But he caught sight of some guy talking to Sissy.
Grabbing Travis’s arm before he could walk away, he asked, “Who’s that?”
Travis looked in Sissy’s direction. “Oh. Him. That’s Gil Warren.”
“He’s part of the Pack?
“Today. He comes and goes.”
“Why’s he talking to Sissy?”
Travis slowly turned to look at Mitch. “How do I put this?” He stroked his chin. “You could say Gil was Sissy’s ... first. And a girl never forgets her first now, does she?”
One of the wolves tossed the ball back at Mitch. “Let’s do a few more passes.”
Mitch nodded. “Sure.”
He examined the ball in his hand for a moment, pulled back his arm, and let the pigskin fly ...
Sissy couldn’t believe this. Gil? Gil friggin’ Warren? Back in Smithtown after all these years and acting like he hadn’t dumped her ass. Or maybe he thought she was one of those females who let things go. Forgive and forget. Finding peace by forgiving.
Well, that sure as hell wasn’t Sissy. She didn’t forgive or forget a damn thing.
“It’s really good to see you again, Sissy.”
“Yeah. Thanks.”
“How long you here for?”
“Don’t know.”
“I see your sister’s here, too, Gil.” Ronnie glared at the female who’d told Gil he could do better than “Bobby Ray’s bitch sister.” Ronnie had always hated Tina, but not as much as she hated Gil.
That’s why Ronnie was Sissy’s best friend. She hated all the right people.
“We’re back for good.”
“Great.” Sissy looked for a way out of this conversation, short of kicking the man in the nuts. Which was something she’d wanted to do for years.
“How about we get together for dinner tonight?”
Sissy blinked and looked at Ronnie. “You must be joking,” she said to him.
He smiled. She used to love that smile. Now, it just looked smarmy. “Not even a little, sweetheart. We’ll have a nice dinner, catch up. It’ll be great.”
“No.”
“Come on, Sissy Mae. It’s time to let the past go.”
“No, it’s not. But nice try.”
Ronnie laughed, but it turned into a squeak when a football whacked into the back of Gil’s head, slamming the wolf forward. Sissy and Ronnie stepped aside and watched Gil hit the ground.
“Sorry,” Mitch called from the field. “My fault.”
Sissy stood there, stunned for several moments, until Ronnie grabbed her arm and took her to the stands, stepping around Gil’s twitching body.
“If I asked you why Mitch might have done that, will you hit me in the back of the head again?” Sissy asked once they’d gotten comfortable in their seats.
Ronnie nodded. “Yup. I sure would.”
“Okay. Just checking.”
Chapter 13
Mace Llewellyn walked into his Brooklyn home late in the evening. It had been a tough day with Smitty, Sissy Mae, and Mitch out. He still debated contacting Smitty, but everything seemed to be handled. Was it worth ruining the man’s honeymoon for a situation he really couldn’t fix anyway? And Mace knew Smitty well enough to know his buddy would want to fix it.
“I’m home,” he called out.
“In the kitchen.”
Mace closed the door and turned to face Dez’s dogs. He snarled, and the two males took off running. The puppy, however, didn’t move. She didn’t seem to be bothered by Mace’s snarls or roars. When he was home, she followed him around faithfully. To be honest, Mace had no idea what to do with her. She’d already grown to three times her original size, and she clearly wasn’t done if the size of her feet was any indication. Plus, she stared up at him with those big, adoring eyes.
He simply didn’t have the heart to be mean to her the way he was to the other two. Glancing around first to make sure no one was around, Mace crouched beside her and petted her head and under her chin the way she liked. Her eyes closed, and her whole body kind of swayed as he scratched a little harder on her neck.
“Mace?”
Hearing Dez’s voice, Mace scrambled to his feet and quickly wiped his hands on his jeans. “Coming.”
Mace tossed his jacket on the couch and walked through the house and into the huge kitchen. Dez sat at the kitchen table working on her new laptop. One of the perks of her new job. She’d been real unhappy when she’d found out they’d moved her to a new division and a new partner. She still didn’t understand how this job was a huge step-up and how it could change her career for the better.
Taking a few steps in, Mace stopped and stared down at the floor. “What is that mongrel doing to my baby?”
Dez glanced down at Marcus and shrugged. “They’re playing.”
Mace didn’t consider a one hundred and fifty-pound dog using his muzzle to push his son in circles playing.
“That can’t be safe.”
“Marcus is happy.”
True, his son was giggling, but he was a toddler. Toddlers laughed at all sorts of shit until blood began to flow.
Grumbling, Mace reached down and grabbed his son. Like the momma’s boy he was turning into, Marcus slashed at his father’s face with nonexistent claws and screeched until Mace put him back on the floor with the dog. And the dog happily proceeded to spin the brat around in circles.
“Told you,” Dez mumbled, her gaze focused on the computer screen.
“Should he even be up this late?”
“He’s nocturnal, since you keep forgetting.”
Mace growled to himself and decided not to get in a fight with Dez. To be honest, he was horny as hell, and she looked so good in that T-shirt. “Food?”
“Fridge.”
Mace opened the refrigerator door and pulled out the three giant sandwiches the nanny had made before she left for the day. “How was work?”
“Fine.”
“You and your partner getting along?”
“I guess. I haven’t tried to shoot her yet.”
“That’s good, baby.” He sat down at the table.
“Okay. I’ve got questions.”
Dammit. He hadn’t even eaten yet. “No, Desiree. There’s no conspiracy.”
“Oh, yes, there is. But that’s not what I’m talking about. You and Smitty were in the SEALs but a special unit, right? Just shifters?”
“Yeah.”
“Any females?”
“Nope.”
“Any other units like yours but with females?”
Mace nodded, half of his first sandwich already devoured. “Yeah,” he said after he swallowed. “I think the Army has something. Don’t know shit about the Air Force. And the Marines definitely.”
Dez scowled, and Mace shook his head. “Not. A. Conspiracy.”
“Fine. But all the years I was in, and I never heard about any special units filled with shifters.”
“And that was for a reason, baby.”
“Yeah. So you keep saying.”
“We keep this secret for the good of our kind.”
“Yeah, but you told me.”
“I trusted you.” He smiled. “And I knew if you told, no one in their right mind would believe you. You have to be smart and know when to break the rules. We’re not only protecting ourselves; we’re also protecting the next generation.”
Dez ran her hands through her hair, revealing her frustration.
“So you think whoever shot at Mitch was military?”
“Yeah. I mean the distance she was at, Mace ... forget about being full-human. I don’t see you or Smitty making this shot.”
Mace remembered what Sissy had said when she was still covered in Mitch’s blood—“If he hadn’t moved ...”
“Now we just have to figure out who she is.”
“Start with
the Marines. God knows, you guys love your sharpshooters.”
Finally, Dez gave a little laugh and sat back in her chair, cracking her knuckles. “You might as well pick her up, Mace. She’ll only start whining.”
Mace had tried to ignore the paw that kept tapping on his leg, hoping Dez wouldn’t notice. The woman may not be a shifter, but her cop senses were on point.
Grumbling, he reached down and picked the puppy up, placing her in his lap. “And you can just wipe that smile off your face.”
“I didn’t say a thing.” She pushed her chair back and reached down to scoop up their son. “Let’s get you upstairs and to bed, baby-boy, so Dad can have his quality time with his girlfriend.”
Dez kissed Mace’s forehead. “Don’t be long. I’m horny.” And with that pronouncement, she left the kitchen, her two beasts trailing behind.
Mace gave the puppy a piece of salami from his sandwich. “You are so not helping me keep our relationship a secret.”
Sissy didn’t know when her favorite Smithtown bar had gotten a karaoke machine, but she never thought she’d see the day when a pair of male lions would stand on that stage singing Bon Jovi songs.
It had been Dee’s idea to meet at the bar, and Sissy had jumped at it. Since Mitch had bopped Gil Warren on the back of the head, Sissy had been feeling really ... strange. Mitch was still goofy ... right? Still her buddy. Still her friend. And friend only.
Right?
Then why did she keep staring at him?
No, no. She was overthinking this. She probably only felt this way because Mitch had almost been killed right in front of her. That had to be it.
Because how could she be feeling anything else for a man singing his heart out on “Livin’ on a Prayer”?
“I’ve never heard Brendon sing,” Ronnie commented while sipping her beer. “And I think I’ll be okay never hearing him again.”
“Then don’t hang out with the wild dogs. Apparently, Mitch is their star attraction at their monthly karaoke nights.”
“Dogs singing.” Dee curled her lip a bit in disgust.
Ronnie wiped condensation from her bottle. “So ... Gil Warren.”