“She’s a wild dog,” Smitty growled out, trying his best to control his growing rage. A rage he rarely, if ever, used. “All wild dogs have those colors unless they dye their hair.”
“Then she should have dyed it. ’Cause all she did was make herself a big ol’ target.”
“I don’t get it,” Dez said around a spoonful of oatmeal and her son hissing in her arms. “What’s the difference between you guys and the wild dogs?”
As quick as it came, Smitty felt his rage slip away. Dez did have that effect on him. She so easily fell into momentous shifter faux pas that she never failed to amuse him. Sometimes it was like watching a train wreck.
It took a moment, but Dez suddenly realized she had the attention of the entire room. Her mate leaned back in his chair, arms folded over his chest, waiting with a smile to see how she got out of this one. Glancing around, Dez shrugged. “What?”
Sissy opened her mouth to say something, but Ronnie cut in before Sissy said something that would damage what had turned into a very healthy friendship among the three women.
“We’re wolves,” Ronnie Lee explained simply. “The wild dogs are, literally, dogs.”
“Some say the first dogs,” Mace added helpfully while stealing bacon off his wife’s plate.
Sissy Mae pushed her empty plate away. “Forget all that. Why did you bring her up anyway, Bobby Ray?”
“I met her at that job we had Friday night.” He couldn’t mention last night’s meeting. Not even to Mace. He still couldn’t believe it. She’d called him Bubba. She might as well have spit in his face.
Mace shook his head, smiling as his son hissed and swiped at him when his father took toast off Dez’s plate. “Forget it, Smitty. You are so out of her league. She barely remembered you.”
Sissy and Ronnie exchanged glances.
“Out of whose league?” Sissy asked. “Jessie Ann’s?”
“She may have been Jessie Ann when you knew her. But she’s Jessica Ann Ward now. And you, my hillbilly friend, don’t stand a chance.”
Dez sat up a little straighter. “Are you guys talking about Jess Ward? Christ, I haven’t seen her in ages.”
“You know Jessica Ward?” How Dez put up with that superior lion tone, Smitty had no idea. Without fangs or claws, she couldn’t exact her revenge during hunts, the way Smitty often did.
“Yes, Captain Ego, I know Jessica Ward.”
“I love when she calls him that,” Sissy laughed.
“We worked together a few years ago.” Dez grinned down at her son. “A bunch of us were sorry when she left. She was so damn good at her job.”
Eyebrows raised, Sissy said, “Don’t tell me that frightened little rabbit was a cop.”
“Not a cop. Technician. Computer tech specifically. She was good, but she left to start her own business. And now she’s richer than God.” Dez looked at Smitty. “Mace is right. She’s so out of your league.”
Smitty gave his best pout. “Why are y’all trying to hurt me?”
“Because it’s fun?”
“It’s easy.”
“I love it when you cry.”
Smitty sighed. “Forget I asked.”
“So how did your date go?”
Jess rolled her eyes at May’s question. “I don’t want to discuss it.”
May grimaced. “That bad?”
“That boring.”
“I’m sorry, sweetie.”
Jess stood and took her breakfast plate to the sink. “It’s not your fault. We’re just not a good match.”
As she rinsed her dish, Jess said casually, “And I saw Bobby Ray Smith last night at the restaurant.”
“Oh?” May asked, just as casually. “What happened?”
“Well”—Jess dried her hands and turned—“I guess you could say—”
The sight of forty wild dogs standing in the Pack kitchen, appearing suddenly simply so they could hear her response, stopped the words dead in her throat.
Phil motioned to her. “Every detail. Leave nothing out. Go.”
And she did “go.” Right to the front door and freedom.
Smitty motioned to Dez and she happily placed her son in his arms. “All I know is... Jessie Ann is still damn cute.”
“And so not interested.”
Smitty glowered at his friend. “Did you actually have to sing that?”
“Bobby Ray always had a thing for the damsels in distress.”
“Oh, save me, Bobby Ray,” his sister mocked. “I’m so weak and frail.”
“Save me, Bobby Ray,” Ronnie joined in, “I’m trapped under the bleachers—”
“—in a tree—”
“—in the school venting system... ”
The two lifelong friends looked at each other and said in unison, “Again!”
Ignoring the She-heifers idiocy, he asked over their laughter, “When did she leave town?”
Still chuckling, Ronnie thought a moment. “It was right after Big-Bone fell off that mountain.”
“Man, she must have been so drunk,” Sissy said. “She broke both her legs and some ribs. Took her days to heal,” she added with true pity.
Smitty said, “Her Packmate said she’d been their Alpha for sixteen years.”
“It’s possible. I know she left before the end of our junior year.”
“Wow. Alpha of a dog Pack,” Sissy sneered. “Wonder what ya gotta do to get that job?”
“Be the best ass sniffer?”
Dez shook her head. “You two are mean.”
“What can I say? She brings out the worst in us.”
“Actually,” Ronnie reminded Sissy, “everybody brings out the worst in us.”
“Good point.”
Smitty sighed, a little sad. “Y’all don’t think she left because of me, do you?”
He’d asked it honestly, knowing how he’d protected her and all. But the hysterical laughter he got back did nothing but insult him.
“There’s nothing to tell. I saw Bobby Ray for like five minutes.”
“She lies,” Sabina accused. “But we will break her.”
They pushed Jess into a chair and Sabina snapped her fingers. They placed it in her hand and she held it in front of Jess’s face.
Jess snorted. “You really don’t think that’ll work on—”
“Dark, dark chocolate,” Sabina told her softly. “Walnuts. Fresh from the oven.”
Sabina held Jess’s favorite brownies under her nose. They’d been baked, along with cookies, for an early afternoon trip to the zoo.
She reached for the pan, but Sabina yanked it back. “Oh no. Not unless you tell us everything about your five-minute meeting with the wolf.”
“Fine,” Jess agreed, her mouth watering. “But I get the whole pan.”
“If you think your hips can handle that, my friend.”
“When are you going to pick up the final check?” Smitty asked Mace.
Mace, finally sated, leaned back in his chair and put his arm behind his wife’s chair, stroking her shoulder. “Forget it.”
“I’ll come with you.”
“For-get-it. I’m there to do business. Not have you sniffing around her like a dog in heat.”
The cub in his arms, Butthead, aka Marcus Patrick Llewellyn, smiled up at him and reached for his finger. You could actually feel small claws right underneath his skin. Yet, they wouldn’t make a real appearance until Marcus hit puberty. Still, you didn’t need to see those claws to recognize the animal within. He may have his mother’s gray–green eyes, but this wonderful little boy—and Smitty’s godson—still had the cold, hard expression of a predator. Just like his daddy.
Smitty smiled at Dez. “How are you holding up, darlin’? I know it’s not easy raising one of us.”
“Good. The cheetah nanny helps, though. But the first time he snarled, I had a bit of a panic attack.”
“She screamed and threw him at me.”