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Authors: Shelly Laurenston

BOOK: The Mane Attraction
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Mitch glanced at Ralph and back at Brendon. “I think he’s snoring.”
“Or those are hunger growls.”
“Bastard.”
 
 
Dez had rattled off the litany of things they’d done involving the Shaw case over the last two weeks. Unfortunately, her commanding officer hadn’t been remotely impressed. She’d looked downright annoyed when she told Dez to get out of her sight.
Resting her elbows on her desk, Dez ran her hands through her hair. She was as frustrated as everybody else, but this woman was like a ghost. No prints, no hair, no fibers, and the armed services were less than helpful. Even among the shifters, there was still the usual political bullshit.
“Maybe she’s left the country.” A professional like her would have multiple passports, IDs, and contacts.
“Nah.” Souza put her feet up on her desk. “She hasn’t left the country. Not yet.”
“And you know this how?”
“She’s not leaving until she gets what she wants. And what she wants is that money. The bounty on your boy’s head is substantial. If I wasn’t law-abiding, I’d kill him myself for that amount of cash.”
“That’s lovely, Souza. Thank you.”
“I’m just telling you like it is. She’s gonna try again.”
Dez had the overwhelming desire to mark up her desk. It was so pristine and perfect it drove her nuts. In fact, the whole office was like that. High-end and high-tech.
She ran her finger over her desk and wished she had her switchblade. “They want this trial to go forward. So I’m guessing she’ll wait until he’s back in Philly.”
When Souza didn’t say anything, Dez looked up from her desk. “What?”
“In Philly, there will be others. Full-humans who will try to take him out and get in her way. She’ll want him all to herself—and
before
he gets a chance to testify.”
Dez sat back. “You think she’s found him, don’t you?”
“Full-humans wouldn’t have the connections, but she would.” Souza raised an eyebrow. “Have you thought about going to Tennessee, Desiree?”
“Do you mean on purpose or with a gun to my head?”
 
 
After easing Ralph back into the lake, Mitch sent Bren off to make up with Ronnie. Not that their argument would last long anyway.
Mitch headed back to Sissy’s house and was kind of surprised to find her sitting lengthwise on the top porch step with her back against one side and her feet up on the other. Christ, she was so sexy. It made him crazy.
“Hey,” she said, smiling.
“Hey.” He sat down on the second to last step, mimicking her pose, but he faced her and he had to bend his knees. “I’m sorry I yelled at you earlier.”
“Sorry I scared the hell out of you.” She laughed. “I keep forgettin’ we’re different ’round here. What’s normal to us is considered completely insane by everyone else.”
“Not completely insane. I was fine up until the time you started slamming into each other. I kept waiting for a damn flag and penalties.”
“We don’t do penalties.”
“I know that now.”
“Well ... it does mean a lot to me that you care enough to irrationally yell at me. Like a frustrated little girl.”
“And it means a lot to me to know that you’re willing to risk permanent spinal injury and having to be nursed twenty-four-seven by your mother for the next twenty years simply to give a town you ran away from years ago a good show. And for no cash reward.”
Sissy’s eyes narrowed the tiniest bit. “Touché, Monsieur Pussy. Touché.”
Mitch reached out, gripping Sissy’s hand. “Wanna go upstairs and find out what other French things we can do?”
“Later.” Sissy swung her legs off the railing and stood, her hand still gripping Mitch’s. “Come on. Let’s go to Cougar Hill and watch the sun rise.”
“Cougar Hill? You named a hill after a cat?”
“Well, that’s where my great great granddaddy tossed this cougar named ol’ Jed off the side of the hill when he wouldn’t leave Smithtown after they’d run off all the other cats. And my great great granddaddy just laughed and laughed. He thought it was so damn funny that he named the hill ... Cougar Hill.”
Mitch let Sissy lead him to this infamous hill, her hand warm and firm in his own. “Aw, Sissy, that ain’t right.”
Chapter 22
S
mitty paced back and forth over the white sands of the exclusive tropical island beach he and Jessie Ann were honeymooning on. The whole island belonged only to them for two more weeks.
He’d never been a big scenery guy, but even Smitty had to admit the place was absolutely beautiful. They had a wonderful staff to take care of their every need, including gourmet meals, scuba diving, or simply being left alone.
It was paradise.
And for the last forty-five minutes, Smitty had been pacing the beach of this paradise, his dog, Shit-starter, right beside him until Jessie walked outside. She wore only one of his oversized T-shirts, looking disheveled and well-fucked. Smitty knew he’d never love anyone the way he loved her.
She waited until he stopped pacing before she stood behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist.
“What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know. But I can’t shake the feeling all hell’s breaking loose.”
“If that’s what you feel, then you’re probably right. Have you called home?”
“Yup. And they all tell me everything is just fine.” Smitty growled. “They’re all liars.”
“Have you talked to Sissy?”
“No. I was told she went back to Tennessee for a visit, but she won’t answer her phone.”
“So?”
“Sissy doesn’t go home unless it’s a major holiday, and even then, only if I go with her because I’m the only one who can stop her from trying to kill Travis in his sleep.”
“If you’re this worried, we should go back.”
Smitty closed his eyes and gripped the small hands wrapped around his waist. Lord, he loved this woman. His mate. His wife.
“I don’t want to ruin our honeymoon.”
“I know. But this is much more important. What if Sissy’s in grave danger ... or ... or ... somethin’?”
Smitty slowly faced his bride. She peered up at him with that perfectly blank expression on that beautiful face that told him she was lying to him.
“You’re bored out of your ever-lovin’ mind ... aren’t you?”
It took her a good ten seconds, but suddenly, she burst out with, “
God, yes!
” She held her hands up and clarified, “Sex ... amazing. Bored with you? Never. But in between sex ...” She threw her hands up. “
Bored!”
Now Jessie started pacing. “I have no Pack; I don’t know what those damn kids are up to; who knows what’s happening at my office; and I have no video games to distract me.” To illustrate, she did this weird thing with her hands like she was holding something, and her thumbs moved back and forth. Smitty didn’t get it, but he’d learned a long time ago that when it came to Jessie Ann, it was best to simply accept and move on. “And you won’t even consider playing a little
Dungeons & Dragons
with me.” She stopped pacing and faced him. “If I were any more bored, Bobby Ray Smith, I’d set myself on fire!”
“You could have said something.”
Now that she’d gotten all that off her chest, Jessie blushed and stared at her bare feet. “I didn’t want to ruin everything. This is the dream honeymoon for most people.”
“People who aren’t part of a Pack. We’re not good on our own, darlin’.”
“How do people not live with a Pack? It’s beyond me.” She was so earnest in that doglike way she had, all Smitty could do was smile.
“They do manage. But we don’t have to.” He walked up to her and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her in close. “How about this for an idea? We go home as soon as we can get that boat to pick us up and a flight, make sure everything is straight with our Packs, and straighten out whatever shit any of ’em started. Then you and me check into the most expensive, snobbiest, rudest hotel in New York City and fuck so hard and loud that they’re eventually forced to throw us out. That way we get our dream honeymoon, but we also have our Packs within spittin’ distance. How’s that for a plan, Jessie Ann?”
“I can’t explain it but”—Jess shook her head—“it sounds weirdly ... wonderful.”
“It does, doesn’t it?”
 
 
He woke her with soft kisses and gently urged her to the shower. When she got out of the bathroom, he’d already made breakfast for her. Waffles and bacon—a shifter’s breakfast of choice, it seemed.
She took the seat he held out for her and waited while he served her. He stared at her longingly all through the meal and then insisted that he would clean up and she should do nothing but rest.
At least, that’s how it happened in Sissy’s fantasy world where she had complete control.
The fact was Mitch fucked her awake until she screamed. Then he slapped her ass and told her he “sure would love some waffles and bacon” while he walked off to take a shower. When she followed him to the bathroom and yelled at him through the shower curtain to make his own damn waffles and bacon, he reached out and yanked her in. They didn’t feel like getting condoms, so they made each other come with their hands and their mouths. When they got out of the shower, there was only one towel, and they spent five minutes fighting over it until Mitch hung her upside down by her ankles. And then he wouldn’t let her up until she called him “Lord High Mitchell the Great.” When he finally put her back on her feet, they had a slap fight over the whole “Lord High” thing, and Sissy got hold of the towel and took off running. She almost made it into her room, but he got to the door before she could slam it shut. Mitch insisted on drying her with the towel, but he shook her all over the place and kept the towel over her head until eventually she squealed and kicked at him.
When they finally got their clothes on, it was nearly lunch anyway, so they decided on heading into town to her brother’s diner for food since he served breakfast all day long and Mitch really had his heart set on those waffles. Mitch grabbed hold of the car keys and held them over his head so Sissy couldn’t get them. She, in turn, grabbed his nuts and twisted until he gave her the damn keys.
The thankfully short drive into town consisted of a lot of roaring and screams to “
slow the fuck down!”
which Sissy ignored as always. But now they were safely ensconced in a booth, and with his mouth full of food, Mitch couldn’t keep from asking her, “What is wrong with you anyway?”
It was while they snarled at each other over Sissy’s plate of fries that Brendon and Ronnie sat down. Ronnie’s cast had been removed, and now she wore an ACE bandage. In another day, her broken wrist would be nothing but a faint memory.
When Sissy glanced at Brendon, she realized something was bothering him.
“What’s wrong?” Sissy felt fangs slide across the flesh of her hand. They didn’t break the skin, but the meaning was clear. Eyes wide, she glowered at Mitch. “Have you lost your goddamn mind?”
“Watch your mouth, Sissy Mae,” Sammy chastised from behind the register.
“Yeah,” Mitch chastised from across the table. “Watch your mouth.”
“Don’t make me come over there and rip out that tacky mane of yours.”
“It’s tawny. My
tawny
mane.”
“Dez is coming down here,” Brendon cut in.
Sissy and Mitch looked at Brendon and back at each other. Then they started laughing and couldn’t seem to stop.
“I don’t see what’s so funny.”
It took a moment for Sissy to get her laughter under control. “Dez. In Tennessee.
That’s
funny.”
“Aren’t you interested in why she’s coming here?”
“No. But I’m sure you can’t wait to tell us.”
“She’s coming down here because she thinks whoever tried to kill Mitch is coming here to finish the job.”
“Well, good luck to her getting into town without anyone knowing.” Sissy shook her head. “It ain’t gonna happen.”
Brendon ignored Sissy and said to Mitch, “I think you should go into Witness Protection now. Not wait until after the trial.”
Sissy’s whole body went sort of cold, then hot. She hadn’t thought about Mitch going into Witness Protection. For days, they’d been too busy having sex. But the thought of never seeing him again made her feel almost physically ill. But she wanted him safe, too.
“I can’t,” Mitch replied, finishing off the rest of the fries she no longer wanted. “I’ve got the game.”
Brendon glared at his brother for a good long while before he snarled, “Are you fucking kidding me?”
“No, I’m not kidding. I made a promise. I’m not leaving until after the game. Besides, I think we have a good chance against those bears.”
Sliding out of the booth, Brendon stood. “Can I talk to you outside?”
“Not if you’re gonna yell at me.”
Brendon stared, and Mitch stared back until Sissy said, “Go with him before he yanks you out of the booth.”
Letting out a sigh, Mitch followed after his brother.
“You all right?” Ronnie asked, sitting back a bit when the waitress put a double chocolate shake in front of her.
“Yeah. Why?”
“Because you got this look on your face when Shaw mentioned Witness Protection.”
“Yeah. Guess I forgot.”
“Shaw is torn between wanting his brother safe and terrified he’ll never see him again.” Ronnie sipped chocolate shake through a straw. When she stopped, she said, “And you can forget it.”
“Forget what?”
“Whatever you’re planning to do to O’Farrell. Forget it.”
“Who said I was—” Sissy stopped talking when a dab of whipped cream hit her between the eyes. “Was that really necessary?”
“It was because I know how your mind works. So let’s lay this on the table, shall we? You can’t call your Uncle Eustice and see if he can ‘handle things’ from where he is. Nor can you have his prison location moved so he’ll have a crack at O’Farrell.” Damn. The woman did know her well. “And if there’s one thing I’ve learned about Mitchell Shaw, it’s that you killing a man, even to protect him, won’t win you any points.” She shrugged. “He’s got a hard-on for scumbags. He’ll do this, give up his entire life because he knows it’s the right thing to do.”
Sissy sighed, knowing Ronnie was right. “Times like this, I wish he could be more like my family.”
 
 
Leaning back against the alley wall—he’d never seen such clean alleys—Mitch answered simply, “No.”
“But—”
“I mean no, Bren.”
“I’m sure Dad would—”
“I don’t care what Dad would do or what Jesus would do. The answer is still no.”
“Yeah, but ... if we
handle
this ... somehow, then—”
“Bruh, you can’t even say the words. And doing it is no easier than saying the words.”
Bren’s shoulders dropped a bit. “I don’t want to lose you.”
It had been so much easier when he hated his brother and sister, believing they’d gotten all of their father’s love and he’d gotten nothing but the occasional birthday card. It had been so much easier when he believed they sat around laughing about the poor cub from West Philly or simply pretending he didn’t exist at all. But he knew different now. He knew he’d lucked out being able to stay with his mom and her Pride. He realized that Brendon and Marissa hadn’t had anything easier growing up than he’d had. They all loved their father, but he was aloof and moody, like most of the Old School males. While his father was building an empire, the twins never had Sunday barbeques with loud, bossy women who cursed like sailors nor had nearly twenty-five relatives show up to every football game and cheer like it was the Super Bowl.
Bottom line was, Mitch didn’t want to lose Bren either ... or Marissa ... or anyone. But he had to do what was right—he had to testify. If he didn’t bring O’Farrell down now, he got the feeling no one would. And if that had happened, how many more fifteen-year-old prostitutes would get their throats slit before the old bastard died.
“Maybe something could be worked out,” he lied while praying it would turn out to be true. “Maybe some kind of visitation.” Mitch grinned. “But you’ll have to meet me in East Booneyfuck Ohio or wherever they put me.”
“You? In the Midwest? I shudder at the thought.”
“I’m doing pretty good in the South. They love me here.”
“Only ’cause you play ball.”
“And I play it well.”
“Speaking of which”—Bren glanced at his watch—“we’ve got practice in a couple of hours, and I need a nap.”
Together, the brothers walked out of the alley and found Sissy and Ronnie Lee standing outside the restaurant. Mitch frowned when he saw Sissy’s face. She looked upset, and when she saw him, she immediately tried to hide it. He didn’t want her hiding anything from him.
“What’s up?”
“Nothing.” Ronnie Lee walked around Brendon and pulled out his wallet. “We’re going shopping.” She took out his credit card and put the wallet back in his pocket.
“We’ll see you guys at practice.” Sissy turned to walk away.

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