The Mane Squeeze (29 page)

“Why not?” Blayne asked.

“I’m not trying to be a bitch.”

“I know.”

“I just…I can’t.”

“Okay. I understand. But that doesn’t mean you can’t be a teammate in spirit!”

Only Blayne. “Okay, fine. I’ll be a teammate in spirit.”

“Yay!”

Lock used his mouth to pull the spoon off his hand, then realized that both hands were too sticky from honey to have anywhere to put it. He stared at his hands for several seconds, shrugged, and then flicked the spoon in the air, catching it with his mouth when it came back down.

“Christ,” Gwen murmured, “he’s a goofball.”

“Huh?”

Focusing on the couch cushion, Gwen said to Blayne, “Nothing.”

“Okay.” Blayne paused for a moment and then asked, “So…are you at the hotel?”

Blayne Thorpe. Obvious Girl. “No, Blayne.”

“Where are ya then?”

“I’m hanging up, Blayne.”

“Gwen—”

“Blayne, we’re not going down this road.”

“Just tell me this…are you happy?”

“You mean at this second?”

“Yeah, Miss Specific. At this second.”

Lock was now staring at his toes while using the sticky spoon to eat more honey. In another two minutes he’d be playing with those toes using his sticky fingers.

“Yeah,” she replied honestly to Blayne. “I am.”

Gwen disconnected the call and demanded, “I thought you were going to get food?”

Licking the spoon, Lock admitted, “My mind wandered.”

And laughing, Gwen buried her face in the couch.

Blayne put down her phone, stared intently across the table and said, “My nefarious plan is almost complete. And soon, everything I could imagine will come to fruition.”

Her father glanced at her over the top of his reading glasses. “Must you always be as odd as your mother?”

“You adored my mother. You told me so. And I’m your little princess.” Blayne grinned and her father snorted out a laugh but cut it short like he always did.

“And what is next in my little princess’s plan to get her feline friend a bear? Although why anyone would want a bear…” he ended on a grumble.

“We’re almost there, Daddy, but…we’re…we’re not there yet.”

“That made no sense. What have I told you before about not making sense to me? You know I hate that.”

“I also know you should be used to it by now.” Her father’s lip curled and Blayne quickly threatened, “If you snarl, I start crying.”

“Please don’t.” He leaned back in the chair and said, “Okay. Remember what I taught you.”

“About knife fighting and skinning animals?”

“No. Although that’s good information. I’m talking about seeing the final outcome of what you want and seeing where you are right now. From there, you figure out that final step. And keep in mind that you’re dealing with predators.”

Blayne thought for a moment before she said, “She needs to claim him.”

“I thought she had.”

“That was to her brother. She’d claim Genghis Khan if she thought it would piss off Mitch. She needs to claim Lock as her own, in front of the world. Or, at the very least, me. That’s the final hurdle.”

Her father picked up his copy of the
Navy Times
. “And for a feline, Blayne, that will be the hardest hurdle of all.”

“I know, Daddy.” She picked up her cell phone. “And that’s why you need friends.”

A
n envelope appeared in front of Lock’s face, his name embossed in silver on the front and his response was immediate, “Not in this lifetime.”

“You have to go,” Ric said, leaning against Lock’s desk, ignoring all the papers, CDs, DVDs, hard drives, and small tools he had littering it. “If you don’t, I assure you there will be tears. You know you can’t handle that.”

“I’m not putting on some stupid costume and parading around—”

“Already discussed and you’re off the hook.”

“I am?”

“Yes.”

“You have that in writing?”

“For a costume party?”

“Not just a costume party. A
wild dog
costume party. That means a costume, a copious amount of chocolate, and an inhuman amount of knowledge on the
Lord of the Ring
movies.”

“Why are you arguing this with me?” Ric demanded with a laugh. “She already said if you say no, she’s coming over here to sob until you agree.”

“Why? She didn’t care I didn’t come to last year’s party.”

“That was last year. Not this year. This year she wants you. And I have yet to see you turn down a sobbing,
wailing
wild dog.”

Because he couldn’t! His weakness sickened him.

“I’ll think about it.”

Ric smiled. “Of course you will. And then you’ll say yes anyway.” Ric glanced around. “So…are you here alone?”

Lock dropped back in his industrial-strength office chair. “I wish I could believe you were asking to be nosy about Gwen and me. But you’re not. You’re asking about Dee-Ann.”

“Well, is she here or not?”

“Not. And if I were you, I wouldn’t try and track her down.”

“Why not?”

“Because when it comes to Dee, you’re better off not knowing where she’s going or what she’s up to. You’ll only have to lie to the authorities later.”

“Oh. All right then.”

Smitty looked away from his computer monitor and over at the big feet resting on his desk. Relaxing back, he interlaced his fingers and rested them on his belly.

“Look who’s put her big, fat hooves on my desk.”

“And a good day to you, too, Bobby Ray.”

“Where the hell have you been, Dee-Ann?”

“I didn’t know I was on some sort of schedule that I might be late for.”

“I thought you would have been here a couple months back.”

“I told you I’d think about it.”

“And why didn’t you tell me you were in town as early as last week?”

Dee smiled. She had her momma’s warm, pretty smile, but her daddy’s eyes. Eyes like the wolf she shared her body with. And although when Smitty shifted to wolf he had the same eyes, Dee’s and Eggie’s never seemed to change, whether they were human or wolf. They remained as watchful. As cold.

He loved his cousin, but Smitty would never cross her. Because the older she got, the more like her daddy she became. Just as dangerous, just as lethal.

“How did you hear I was in town?” She asked, watching him closely.

“A Van Holtz said one of my cousins was in town. He didn’t give me any names, but I figured it was you.”

She studied him for a moment. “You want me to leave?”

“No, darlin’. I want you as part of the Pack.”

“I don’t like feeling hemmed in.”

Smitty had to smile. “And the one thing my daddy always taught me was to never hem in Eggie Smith—or Eggie Smith’s daughter. You join the Pack on simple terms. We’re always here for you and, when I need you, you’re there for us.”

Dee-Ann nodded. “Give me a few days.”

“If you like.”

Dee-Ann swung her long legs off Smitty’s desk and stood.

“And there’s a party this weekend. You’re more than welcome to come.”

“I’ll think on it.” She walked to the door, stopped. “And which Van Holtz told you I was in town?”

Smitty glanced back at his monitor, an e-mail from Jessie Ann with a silly subject line making him smile. “Uh…one of the younger ones. Um, Ric? Ulrich? He’s a friend of—”

Staring at the empty doorway, Smitty let out a breath. How his cousin always did that whenever the mood struck her, he’d never know.

Gwen pulled open the door to her office and stepped inside. Only to get slammed back into the wall by a five-eleven wolfdog.

“Paaaaaarrrrrrrttttttyyyyyy!”

Not entirely in the mood for this, Gwen snapped, “What?”

“Party! Party! Party!”

“I’m not going to any party.” Gwen pushed past Blayne and headed toward her office, but she was yanked back by her hair and a thick envelope held up in front of her.

“Party! Party! Party!”

“Would you stop saying that!” Gwen snatched the envelope from her. Both their names were on the front, the letters raised, the paper thick and high quality. Opening it, Gwen pulled out the card inside.

You are viciously invited to the most bloodthirsty party of the century. Dress as the most ghoulish, most frightening, or most terrifying fiend of the known world and dance the night away with other like-minded terrors. Costumes are mandatory. Drinks are free. And chocolate! Chocolate! Chocolate!

—
The Kuznetsovs

“Is it really hard for them to be normal?”

Blayne yanked the invite from her. “We’re going.”

Again pushing past Blayne, Gwen at least this time made it in to the office. “You’re going. I’m not.”

“Why not?”

“Not in the mood.” Why would she go to some goofy Halloween party with a bunch of goofy dogs? Her life was too short and getting shorter every day. She didn’t plan to spend a minute of it bored out of her mind, if she could help it. “But go. Have a good time.”

Gwen slipped off the straps of her backpack and she was pulling out her chair to sit down and get her paperwork together before they headed out to the snake farm, when Blayne tossed in, “Your mother’s going.”

Gwen froze in midsit. “What?”

Blayne shrugged. “She was invited and you know how she—”

“Dammit!” Gwen dropped into her chair. Now she
had
to go. Her mother at a party filled with predators and an open bar…Gwen couldn’t even stand to think about the damage the woman could do. And the damage would be around all of Lock’s friends.

“If you’re really not going to go, let me know now because I have to R.S.V.—”

“I’ll be there,” Gwen snarled, opening drawers as if she was looking for something, but really it was simply so she could slam them shut again.

“Okay.”

Blayne stepped into the hallway and walked around the big pillar that blocked the view of their office from people wandering through the lobby. Jess stood at the front desk with the receptionist, Mindy. When she saw Blayne, Jess faced her.

She gave Jess a thumbs-up, then raised her brows in silent question.

Jess lifted her hand, her thumb and forefinger in a circle, her three other fingers raised, letting her know that Lock was…well…a lock.

They grinned at each other like goofballs and then Blayne headed back to the office. She’d only opened the door when she heard Gwen roar,
“Where the fuck are the receipts from the construction site?”

When it came to the task of babysitting her mother, Gwen would have only one volume level until it was all over. Thankfully, Blayne only had to put up with it until Saturday night.

Jay Ross reached into his girlfriend’s car and yanked the keys out of the ignition. He quickly stepped away as the car door flew open and Donna stumbled out. She might be drunk off her ass, but that didn’t make her any less strong.

“Give me my fuckin’ keys!” Normally he would, never in the mood to bother with her when she got like this, but he had something else in mind. The timing was perfect.

He held the keys over her head. “Okay, so your mother popped you in the face—”
again
“—but why go storming off when I got a better idea of how to get even with the one who is really to blame for this?”

Trying to reach her keys, “I ain’t goin’ into Philly to get into it with a whole Pride. I ain’t stupid.” He wasn’t so sure about that, but she gave a hell of a blow job, so he was willing to overlook her major flaws.

“You wanna hurt the mother…you hurt the kid.”

Donna slowly lowered her arms and stared at him through the eye that wasn’t swollen shut, although it was pretty glassy from all the Jack Daniel’s she’d guzzled. “What are you talking about? Beatin’ her up? We already did that.”

“Nah. I’m talking about something a little more…permanent.”

She turned away from him. Donna tried to pretend she didn’t know what he did for cash, but she knew. They all knew, they just liked to pretend they didn’t.

“Both?” she finally asked, no longer sounding nearly as drunk.

“Yeah. Both.” He could practically feel the money in his hands. And Christ, it felt good.

Jay put his arms around her shoulders and nuzzled her ear. “Trust me, baby. They’ll both get what they got comin’.”

“How? The bitch isn’t stupid. It’s not like we can call her up and tell her to meet us somewhere.”

“Gotta start thinkin’ different, baby. Gotta start thinkin’ a little more human.”

Donna’s lip turned up a little at that, but then she asked, “When?”

He smiled, his mind already turning. “Soon. Real soon.”

She felt wonderful against him, all sweaty and soft, her exhausted body pressing down on his. He dragged his hand down her spine and across the curve of her ass.

“Use your claws,” she murmured, snuggling closer.

He did, carefully dragging them down her back and up again. He didn’t know if she realized she fell asleep like that, with his claws caressing her back while they lay on his kitchen floor.

They’d just arrived home after she’d met him at the training rink and he’d taken her to the diner down the block. They’d eaten dinner but decided to have dessert back at the apartment. He’d been heading for the ice cream in his freezer when she’d wrapped her arms around his waist from behind. She had his jeans unzipped and her hand inside his boxer briefs in less than five seconds. After that their clothes went flying and they ended up abusing his kitchen floor.

She only slept twenty minutes before she lifted her head from his chest, pretty eyes blinking as she looked around the room.

“Ice cream?” she asked.

“Freezer. I’ll get it.”

“No. I’ll get it.” Placing her palms flat on his chest, she levered herself up and scratched her head. Then she stretched, arms above her head, chest pushed out. Lock grew hard again and reached for her.

“Ice cream,” she insisted, pushing his grasping hands away. “And don’t pout,” she ordered before she got up and walked to his freezer.

Gwen stared into Lock’s freezer.
How much ice cream did the man eat on a daily basis?
The top three shelves were filled with pints of ice cream, from the expensive brand names to the cheap store-brand versions. He had every flavor possible.

While holding the door open, Gwen turned to ask Lock what kind he wanted, but he had his legs up in the air, his hands gripping his toes.

“Enjoying yourself?”

He grinned, nodded.

Did he really have to be so cute? Was that really fair to her
at all
?

“Which ice cream do you want?”

“Rum raisin.”

She glanced in the freezer. “Any particular brand? You’ve got like ten rum raisins in here.”

“Doesn’t matter.”

She grabbed the rum raisin at the front and dug around until she found butter pecan for herself.

“Where are the spoons again?”

“Second drawer to the…” he pointed with one leg “…left.”

“That is
not
an attractive position for any man to put himself in.”

He laughed and went back to playing grabby toes or whatever he called it.

Ice cream, spoons, and paper towels in hand, Gwen walked back over to Lock and sat down on the floor.

“We can go into the living room if you want.”

“Nah.” She took off the top to the rum raisin and stuck the spoon in it. “I’m getting a perverse enjoyment out of sitting naked in your kitchen, something my aunts would never allow because ‘That’s just nasty.’ So, I want to savor that.” Lock sat up, his back against the thick wood breakfast-table leg. But instead of taking the ice cream from her, he first pulled her over until she sat between his legs.

“Comfortable?”

Surprisingly, she was. Who knew she’d like having his thick cock pressing into her back like a lead pipe? “Yep.”