“You are such a—”
“Hello, Victor!”
Vic gritted his teeth. He was not in the mood for this. For her. At least with Shen, Vic could be as cranky and rude as he deemed it necessary this early in the morning. But Shen was a panda. Tolerant as most bears were. It was the reason his father could put up with Vic’s beautiful but high-maintenance mother. He was a tolerant grizzly. Sure, you startled a grizzly, you risked getting your face ripped off. But otherwise, they put up with a lot as long as you kept the sounds low and the food supply substantial.
But this female wasn’t a bear. She was a feline. And a pushy one at that.
“Good morning, good morning,” she practically sang from behind him. And Vic wanted so badly to shut his gate and walk into his house without answering, but damn his Russian parents with their insistence on polite behavior. Polite behavior that didn’t allow him just to ignore a lady, no matter how annoying the lady might be.
Hand gripping the strap of his travel bag, Vic slowly turned and faced the pretty She-tiger standing behind him.
“Hi, Brittany.”
“I’m so glad you’re here.” She held up a perfectly baked coffee cake on a crystal plate with a crystal dome top.
Sure. She could have bought it at the bakery like most women would have. But not Brittany, local tigress, mom of two, and female in search of a long-term mate. Nope. She’d made that perfectly designed and probably incredible-tasting cake all by herself while raising her two perfect cubs and running a rather successful party planning company out of her house.
What exactly was he supposed to do with Brittany? Vic was far from perfect. In fact, he enjoyed the imperfection of himself and his family. And he could just imagine how poorly his mother and Brittany would get along. He shuddered at the thought.
“I made this just for you. My famous lemon honey coffee cake with buttercream glaze.”
“Sounds—”
“Why don’t I cut you a slice myself?” She walked around him, past Shen like he didn’t exist, and up the path to his house.
Vic watched her move. He knew if she were in her shifted form, her tail would be calling his name, swinging from side to side, twitching at the tip.
“That is quite the ass,” Shen muttered.
“Yes. It’s perfect.”
Shen chuckled, rolled his eyes. “You and your antiperfection agenda.”
Vic was about to reiterate—yet again—why he felt the way he did about anyone who tried so hard to be constantly perfect, but he was too busy watching Brittany walk into his house . . . unobstructed.
“You never leave your door unlocked,” Shen told him.
“I know.”
“Then how—”
A few seconds later, they heard a female’s startled scream turn into an angry roar.
Running now, Vic and Shen charged up the path to the house. Vic yanked the metal security door open and ran inside, down the hall, and into his kitchen with Shen right behind him.
That’s where they found Brittany with a blood-covered hand over her face, roaring at the cabinets over his refrigerator. Confused, Vic grabbed a towel and pressed it to her wounds.
“My God, Brittany, what happened?”
“She attacked me!”
Vic and Shen looked around the room, but didn’t see anyone else.
“Who attacked you?”
She yanked the towel from his hand and pointed at the cabinets. “Her!”
Now really confused, Vic walked to the cabinets over his stainless-steel refrigerator and opened one of the wood doors. Opened it and stared.
A naked Livy Kowalski, comfortably curled up inside his cabinet, held out an open jar and softly asked, “African honey?”
Vic wanted to be angry. She’d broken into his home, eaten his honey, and attacked his neighbor. And yet . . .
Closing the cabinet door, Vic faced a raging Brittany.
“Brittany,” he began, “I am so sorry. This is all my fault.”
“Your fault?”
“Well, I don’t allow her out of that cabinet without my permission.” Vic forced himself to keep his focus on a now-horrified Brittany because of Shen and what he was sure was his reaction, but Shen was smart enough to turn away from them all.
“Your permission?” Brittany growled. “You keep a woman in your food cabinets?”
“It would be cruel to make her stay under the sink. She’s not that small.”
“Do you really expect me to believe that, Victor Barinov?”
Uh-oh. She was seeing through his lie, which meant he’d never get rid of her. Yeah, yeah, Brittany was really pretty and probably gave a guy a wild ride in bed. But Vic wasn’t nineteen anymore. He really hated waking up in the morning with a woman he had nothing to say to. And he had absolutely nothing to say to Brittany.
But before Vic could either spill his guts—“I have no idea why a honey badger is in my cabinet!”—or lie more—“And she’s my cousin! That’s double wrong!”—his older sister suddenly stormed into his kitchen, Vic’s six-year-old nephew hanging off her hip.
“Well, I’ve left him!” Irina, called Ira by the family, announced to the room.
“Again?” Shen asked.
Which got him the quick Ira-response of, “Shut it, Shen.”
Vic focused on his sister. “She doesn’t believe me.”
Ira blinked. “Who doesn’t believe you?”
“Brittany.”
Ira and Brittany sized each other up as only She-predators could. Like Vic, Ira was half bear, but the Siberian tigress side of her didn’t much like this other cat in territory Ira felt the need to protect, at least until Vic found a mate of his own.
“Doesn’t believe you about what?” Ira asked.
“About my little Livy.”
His sister glanced around, her eyes settling on the cabinet. The first time Vic had found out that Livy was breaking into his house was when his sister had opened a cabinet and found the honey badger sound asleep, her fingers and face still sticky from the honey she’d devoured. Although Ira hadn’t reacted nearly as violently as Brittany. Instead, she’d quietly closed the cabinet, tiptoed out of the room, and told Vic, “There’s a naked woman in your cabinet . . . and she’s eaten all the honey.”
After a moment of silence, Ira suddenly announced, “Well, not everyone is comfortable with that sort of relationship in this society.” She smiled at Brittany. “But Livy does have her benefits. When he’s out of town, she comes over to do my laundry and clean my house. But I insist she put on clothes first! I have a child to think of.”
Brittany threw up her hands. “I’m leaving!” she announced, her expression disgusted. “And I’m taking my cake with—”
When her words abruptly ended, Vic and his sister looked down. Shen was sitting at the kitchen table and had a handful of cake, his mouth covered in the buttercream frosting.
He swallowed and said, “Really good cake. And I’m not even a lemon guy.”
Maybe if Shen had cut the cake, Brittany would have still taken it. But seeing that his hands had been in it . . .
Definitely something bears could overlook, but not a feline. And Brittany was all feline.
Spinning on her heel, she stormed out, slamming the front door behind her.
After a moment of silence, Ira asked, “So Livy’s naked in your cabinets again?”
Vic shrugged. “Yeah.”
Livy was reaching for another jar of honey when the cabinet doors opened. She winced at the bright light from the kitchen windows.
“What are you doing?” Vic demanded. “Why do you keep breaking into my house?”
“As much as I protect you from these pathetic females, you’d think you’d appreciate my presence.”