“No—”
But Sabina cut May’s plea short by slapping her hand over the woman’s face. “We’d love for you to come,” Sabina chimed in, even while she struggled with May. “Yes, you will be there. Nine o’clock.”
Phil jotted down the club information and handed it to Smitty. “Yup, nine o’clock.”
Smitty stared at the piece of paper. “Caleb’s Corner? Never heard of it.”
“It’s a nice place. You’ll love it.”
We’re all going to hell.
Jess could tell by the look on his face that Smitty knew damn good and well they were setting him up, but he had no idea how. And Jess knew that after tonight, Smitty might actually end it all with her. He might never speak to her again. Ever.
Smitty slipped the paper into his pocket and slowly walked over to her. “See you tonight,” he said.
“Yeah, see ya tonight.”
Then his hands gently grasped her jaw, framing her face. No way. He wouldn’t kiss her in front of her Pack, would he? They’d never said anything about keeping their sexual relationship secret, but Smitty had never been an outwardly affectionate male to the women he slept with. At least not when she knew him. But before she could analyze it anymore, he was kissing her. It was a sweet kiss but, at the same time, claiming. Making it clear to anyone within a thirty-mile radius exactly whom Jess belonged to. Whom she belonged to at the moment anyway.
After he’d completely melted her bones, Smitty stepped back and winked at her. He turned and headed to the elevator, glaring at Phil the entire time until the elevator doors closed.
An awkward and large silence followed his departure. Until Sabina stated the obvious, “He’s worried about you and Phil?”
“I guess so,” Jess replied, completely fascinated. “It was a definite Smith ‘this is my bone’ move.”
Jess and Sabina stared at each other for several seconds before they burst out laughing.
“Me? And Phil?”
Sabina released May so she could bang on the desk. “That’s hilarious!”
Phil cleared his throat. “I don’t appreciate the humor here. I’m definitely a threat to the male population.”
That just pulled more laughter from his wife and best friend.
“Maybe you should let it go,” Danny suggested. “You’re just embarrassing yourself.”
“Wait!” May ordered. “Just wait. What about Smitty? You can’t have him come tonight. It’s not fair!”
Now all of them but May were laughing, leaving the poor She-dog to dramatically storm off on her own.
CHAPTER 17
“Why am I here?”
Smitty didn’t even spare a glance at Mitch. “Because I’m pretty sure this is a gay bar Jessie has me coming to. And you’re much more gay-friendly than I am. You’ll distract them from my amazing body.”
“So... I’m your beard?”
“I don’t know if you’re using that term correctly, but I also don’t care.”
Smitty grabbed Mitch’s jacket and pulled him to the bar called Caleb’s Corner. There was a bouncer out front, but he barely looked at them. And there was no line waiting to get in. What a lame-ass gay club. Still, Jessie was here. Which meant he was going to be here.
But once they got inside, all Smitty wanted to do was turn around and run. Run for his very life. Lord in heaven, Jessica Ann Ward was the meanest female on the planet! And she should burn for this. Burn!
“Wait. I thought you said this was a gay bar?” Mitch sounded as horrified as Smitty felt.
“I thought it was.”
“Well, it’s not, and I’m out of here!”
Mitch tried to make a run for it, but Smitty grabbed his jacket collar and yanked the big cat back. “You’re not deserting me, Shaw.”
“Like hell I’m not. You may have that military connection with Llewellyn, but I’m from Philly. There’s some things we won’t do for anyone.”
The two were seconds from pulling out claws and going at it in the middle of the bar when Jessie suddenly—and literally—jumped in front of them.
“Smitty!” She wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him. And in that second he knew he wouldn’t leave. She smelled too good.
When she pulled away, she looked over at Mitch. “Oh... you.”
“And I’m happy to see you, too, beautiful.”
Jessie stepped back and gestured around. “As you can see, we’ve pretty much taken over the place, but we’ve got some bears and a few jackals hanging out tonight, so you two shouldn’t feel too out of place with all these dogs.” She pointed toward an empty booth. “Why don’t you guys grab a table and sit back and relax.”
“Sure. After we stop at the bar first.”
“Oh.” Jessie scrunched up her face. The action annoyed him because she looked so goddamn cute doing it. “I forgot to mention. Caleb lost his liquor license a week ago. So, at least for now, soft drinks, virgin margaritas, and Shirley Temples only. But the Shirley Temples are to die for.”
Smitty worked hard not to grit his teeth. “There’s no liquor here?”
“Nope.” And she grinned, evil female that she was. “I’m sorry, Smitty.”
No, she wasn’t. She wasn’t sorry at all!
“Don’t worry about it, darlin’,” he lied. “We’ll survive.”
“We will?”
Smitty shoved Mitch into an empty booth. “We’ll be just fine,” he insisted, unwilling to show any weakness in the face of such travesty.
“Okay.” Jessie’s head snapped up. “Oh, there’s my cue. I’ll talk to you guys in a bit.”
Smitty watched Jessie Ann run across the dance floor and up on the stage. The crowd roared her name; apparently this was not a once-in-a-blue-moon event. The Kuznetsov Pack were regulars.
The music for “Coal Miner’s Daughter” started to play and Jess stepped up to the mic.
“Oh, Lord in heaven.”
“A karaoke bar.” Mitch glared at him. “You dragged us to a karaoke bar?”
“She didn’t tell me it was karaoke.”
“You know it’s bad enough having to listen to you guys howl all the time. But this... this may be asking too much. Dogs. Singing.” Mitch turned to the bar and lashed Smitty with another glare. “And no goddamn liquor. You know, as per shifter law, I could legally kill you.”
He almost wished the whining cat would.
Jessie opened her mouth to start singing and Smitty cringed, waiting for those first tragic, painful notes... but he ended up blinking in surprise. Even Mitch looked shocked. Jessie Ann was good—and she sounded exactly like Loretta Lynn, the Grande Dame of Country Music.
“I never knew she liked country music,” Smitty said in awe.
“Yeah, that must make her prime mate material for a Smith. She’ll fit right in at one of your hootenannies.”
Smitty glared across the booth. “Please. Give me one reason to kill you. Just one.”
Jess belted out that last note of “Coal Miner’s Daughter” and the crowd jumped to their feet, chanting her name. Okay, so she’d never make it to the Grand Ole Opry in this lifetime—her secret dream only her closest friends knew about—but who needed that when she had dogs barking for more?
She bowed to her adoring fans and jumped off the stage. Immediately Danny replaced her for his rendition of .38 Specials “Hang on Loosely,” which always made his wife swoon.
To her surprise, Smitty and Mitch hadn’t bailed yet. She thought for sure Smitty would run screaming into the night as soon as he realized it was a “dry” karaoke bar. Wolves may love to howl, but nothing they hated more than to hear dogs sing. And dogs loved to sing. Add in no tequila and that was not a wolf’s idea of a good time. More like one of their nightmares.
Yet how he kept Mitch Shaw locked into place, she’d never know. Cats really hated hearing dogs sing. It rankled their fur.