Yeah, Jessie Ann had known exactly what she’d been doing.
“I warned you,” Brendon said again to Ronnie Lee. “I warned you not to go into dog territory.”
“Yeah,” Ronnie said with a shrug, and a wince from her own pain, her own stitches, “but I thought you were being sarcastic. I mean... they’re dogs.”
“True. And they kicked your ass.”
“There were two thousand of them,” Sissy shot back.
“I told you they had their pups this weekend. It doesn’t matter if there’s one million or one, wild dogs will do whatever necessary to protect their pups. End of story.”
“Yeah, but—”
Shaw slammed his hand down on the metal kitchen table, nearly buckling it. “No buts! I don’t even have room to complain about this. Or demand retribution. Their attack was completely warranted. I told you I hadn’t gotten permission for you guys to go off my territory. And Marissa and I can only go within a mile of their den. Even Mitch doesn’t go over there and he’s a dumb-ass!”
“I heard that!” Mitch yelled from the living room.
“Shut up!”
Sissy sighed. “Look, y’all, I’m sorry. Okay? I didn’t think it would be a big deal. Now I know.” She looked at him. “Sorry, Bobby Ray.”
“Don’t apologize, Sissy Mae. It’s something any of us might have done when we’re running down lunch.”
“I wouldn’t have done it,” Shaw muttered, but quieted down when Ronnie Lee glared at him.
“This changes everything, don’t it, Bobby Ray?” Sissy asked softly.
Smitty sipped his beer before speaking. He hoped the beer would deaden the pain around his stitches. He had far less than Sissy Mae but enough to cause discomfort. Yet, due to their biological makeup, in a few hours they’d have to remove the stitches or risk the skin healing over them.
“Yup,” he finally answered. “I reckon it does.”
“You’re a Smith male, Bobby Ray. It’s not like you can do any different.”
“I know.”
Sissy poured herself more orange juice. “Then I guess you better get on over there.”
“Yup.”
Shaw looked between them. “What are you two talking about?”
“Make it quick, Bobby Ray. Like Daddy would.”
Bobby Ray grimaced, but nodded. “I’ll do my best.”
“Wait. What are you two planning?” Shaw demanded.
Ronnie sighed. “Mind your own, Brendon Shaw. This is Smith business.”
“You’re kidding, right?”
When they all stared at him, he threw his hands up. “Fine. But I gotta tell you, I praise the day I was born a cat.”
Jess literally tore the still-beating heart from her opponent’s chest and forced him to look at it.
Her twelve-year-old nephew glared at her. “You are mean,” he accused.
“Suck it up, Boy Scout.”
He threw down his controller and stormed off.
“Next!”
Sabina and Phil’s fourteen-year-old son jumped into the vacated seat on the couch.
“Nice facial lacerations there, by the way.” The boy had his father’s sarcasm, coupled with his mother’s brutal sense of humor. Smart-ass.
“Like these lacerations, do you?” she asked. “Good. You’ll look like this when I’m done.”
The bell for the next round rang, but before she could recover from an aerial kick to the head, Danny called for her from the front porch.
She paused the game. “Don’t even try and cheat, brat.”
“I don’t have to. I’ll destroy you without it.”
“Dreamer.”
Jess grinned and walked through the living room, her Pack involved in different forms of relaxing activities. From chess and checkers to role-playing games with pen, paper, dice, and their imaginations to video and computer games to yoga... which just seemed weird.
But her grin faded when she walked out onto the porch and found a human and clearly brutalized Smitty waiting for her. Okay, so maybe she’d done more damage than she’d given herself credit for.
He leaned against his truck, arms crossed over his chest. To the untrained eye, he looked relaxed. Composed. But she knew that look. She saw it once, years ago, seconds before Smitty beat the living hell out of his older and larger brother for sleeping with Smitty’s whore girlfriend at the time.
“What do you want, Smith?”
“We need to talk.”
If he thought she was getting off this porch, he was high.
“So talk.”
When he realized she wouldn’t come to him, he pushed himself off his truck and walked up the stairs. He stared down at her and she fought the urge to stroke his face, do whatever she could to help take away the pain she knew he suffered.
He didn’t say anything, and she quickly grew impatient with the long Smitty-silence. “Well? I’m waiting.”
Big arms crossed over his chest, Smitty gave a sad sigh. “I underestimated you all along, didn’t I?”
Jess shrugged. “Probably.” Everyone else had, why should he be different?
“What happened this morning... ” He gazed off into the woods, then shook his head. “I have to say, I never saw that coming.”
“Your sister was on my territory. I have pups here. What did she or you expect?”
“I expected you to let her get over territorial lines. I expected you to let her walk away. The Jessie Ann I thought you were would have done that. Because you didn’t, do you know what that makes you?”
Jess knew she didn’t want to hear this. She didn’t want any more hurtful words or, even worse, hurtful silences between her and Smitty, but there was no avoiding it now. “What, Smitty? What does that make me?”
Amber wolf eyes locked on her and she saw fangs as he opened his mouth to speak. Her own claws slowly slid into place, prepared to tear and render as necessary.
“Mine, Jessie Ann,” he finally said. “That makes you mine.”
Jessie stared up at him like he’d grown a second head. Even her claws had receded. He’d seen them slide out, and that had only confirmed what he already knew. She would have ripped him apart if he’d made a move on her. Jessie Ann had a vicious streak a mile long and ten miles deep and nothing turned him on more.
“I’m sorry... ” she said softly. “What?”
“What did you think would happen, Jessie Ann?” Smitty asked calmly. “You attacked my She-wolves when they were trying to leave your territory. Mauled my sister after just apologizing to her the other day for punching her in the eye. And tore open my face with your teeth when I tried to protect her. And you did it without pity or remorse or a lick of conscience. Sorry, darlin’, but that makes you prime Smith-mate material.”
Looking away from that beautiful face and those big shocked eyes, Smitty examined the surrounding acres. He immediately spotted a big unused barn. Perfect.
“Come on, Jessie.” He took hold of her wrist and kissed her palm gently. “Let’s do this right, darlin’.”
Yeah. He’d do this right. Slow and easy. Just the way Jessie Ann deserved. No Smith mate-mauling for her. Even if that’s what he wanted to do, he’d give her what she needed.
Smitty walked to the top of the porch stairs with Jessie behind him when she stopped abruptly, bringing him up short. He turned and saw that Jessie had secured one foot against the porch railing, locking her in place. Then she jerked him back and slammed that small fist of hers right into his already abused face.
He dropped her arm and covered his bleeding nose.
“What in the holy hell was that for?”
“Oh, you don’t know? Well, let me do it again until you figure it out!”
Grabbing her under the arms, Smitty lifted her up until they were eye to eye. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
“The barn? You were going to take me off to the barn like we’re walking to the local store?”