“Ma?”
“Yeah, baby-girl?”
Gwen closed her eyes, swallowed, and took that step off the ledge, “I’m moving to New York with Blayne.”
Lock tossed aside the empty beehive and scratched at a few of the bee stings on his arms and neck. “Who am I kidding? What am I going to do with a girl like her?”
“We had this talk when we were fourteen. I even brought my brother’s Hustler for visual assistance.”
“I don’t mean that, you dweeb. You didn’t see this girl. Not so much today, ’cause we were both naked, but at the wedding. She’s high maintenance.”
“I thought you said she was an average Philly girl?”
“Average Philly girl does not automatically translate into easy maintenance. She probably wants a lot of jewelry and a nice car.”
“All of which you can now afford.”
“That’s not the point. I don’t want somebody I have to buy.”
“You don’t even know this woman and already you’re accusing her of being available for purchase?”
“Because it makes me feel better that I’ll never get her!” Lock dropped listlessly against the tree. “She uses that shampoo,” he sighed.
“What shampoo?”
“The one with honey in it.”
Ric’s eyes crossed. “Oh, my God.”
“She was sitting in that tree, her leg bleeding out, and all I could think about was how good her hair smelled.”
“Why was she sitting in a tree?”
“She was hiding from the organ thieves.”
Ric blinked. “Sorry?”
“Do you really want me to explain it?”
“Not particularly.”
Lock stood, wiping his hands on his jeans. “I need to get her out of my head. That’s the bottom line.”
Ric got to his feet and gave a quick all-over shake to get the dust and dirt off. “Think you can?”
Lock shrugged and headed back toward the Van Holtz summerhouse. “Not really.”
Gwen continued to rub her forehead and seriously considered mixing the heavy-duty pain meds with some tequila. Dangerous to her system? Yes. Able to temporarily wipe out the conversation she’d just had with her mother? Possibly.
She should have waited. She should have waited until she was back home, her mother was back from that spa, and everyone was relaxed and calm. That’s what she should have done, but she also knew she couldn’t wait. If Gwen waited, she’d talk herself out of it. And, for the first time in a very long time, this was something she wanted more than her next breath.
Hell. It was a future. Her future. And she was going to build it herself. How could she walk away from that?
She couldn’t. Not now, not ever. But Gwen forgot how much damage her mother could do simply with words. The woman didn’t need claws or fangs, she had her mouth and the ability to wield Irish-Catholic guilt like a ninja sword.
Sticking her cell phone in the back pocket of her denim shorts, Gwen thought again about getting those pain pills, but without the tequila. Debating on calling for assistance or actually getting off her ass, she was relieved when someone came out of the house—until Brendon stomped down the steps and faced her.
He held up his cell phone. “Why did your mother just spend ten minutes yelling at me?”
“Oh, my God.” Gwen dropped her head into her hands.
“You’re moving to New York?”
“Look, Brendon, I’m really sorry about—”
“You’ll stay at my hotel.”
Gwen stared up at him. Did he have to look so much like Mitch? And did he realize that looking like Mitch only made him a giant, big-maned target? Especially when he was giving her orders the way Mitch tried to do.
“I appreciate the offer—”
“It wasn’t an offer,” Brendon told her flatly. “If your mother is going to blame me for this—and my God, the yelling—then you’re staying at my hotel until we find you an acceptable place to live, in a neighborhood I’ve researched and approved.”
That he’d researched and…“Actually, I’m gonna stay with Blayne.”
“After Blayne finished squealing in joy about you moving, because apparently she didn’t know—and breaking her cell phone in half when your mother called her—she told me there was no way you two would ever room together after what happened on your senior class trip.”
Gwen would kill that wolfdog if she weren’t her new business partner.
“Brendon—”
“I won’t have my little sister living in some rat-infested hellhole that I wouldn’t put my worst enemy in.”
All right. That was it. “First off, I am not your little—”
The front door banged open again, cutting off Gwen’s pointed but brutal words.
“Hey, darlin’?” Gwen rolled her eyes in frustration as Brendon’s backwoods mate came out on the porch. “Where’s that fire extinguisher?”
“Fire extinguisher?”
“Dogs. Oven. You do the math.”
“Again? Goddamnit! I can’t trust those dogs alone for two minutes.” He jogged up the porch stairs, patting Gwen on the shoulder as he passed her. “I’ll be right back.”
As Brendon dashed inside, the screen door slamming shut behind him, Ronnie Lee sat down next to Gwen.
After a full minute of silent seething, Gwen looked over at Ronnie. The She-wolf gave her that warm smile that always set Gwen’s teeth on edge. At some point in her life, Gwen would admit it wasn’t fair to take out her personal rage and anger on some helpless She-wolf, but she was cat and the canine was in her space. What exactly did the hillbilly expect to happen?
“What the hell you lookin’ at?” Gwen snapped.
Ronnie’s smile didn’t fade, although, it did become a tad brittle. “Now, I know it ain’t been easy puttin’ up with my Brendon. He can be a bossy so-and-so as only a male lion can be, but he’s doing what he thinks is best and he does that because he likes you so much and sees you as his little sister.”
“I’m not his little sister. I’m not related to him. We have no blood ties. And I think it’s time he learned that. In fact, I think it’s time I explained it to him—directly.”
“Now, darlin’, I’m gonna ask you not to do that. Don’t think for a second I don’t understand what you’ve been going through. I have three big brothers of my own. And Lord knows some days I just wanna kill ’em while they sleep. But it’s about family, and family is all that matters. You’ve got a man here who will protect you and care for you like he does his own twin. Like he does Mitch. So I’m gonna ask you, real nice, to take his offer for, let’s say, a month. You’ll get free room service, anything you could ever need with one phone call to that concierge guy, and free room and board in a suite that important and very wealthy dignitaries pay thousands and thousands of dollars for each night they stay. Now how that be?”
Gwen remained silent a moment, let out a breath, and almost giddily replied, “No.” She didn’t say the word often unless medical personnel were involved, but holy shit was it liberating! Could she tattoo it on her forehead? Could she legally change her name to No O’Neill? This was great! This was wonderful!
The She-wolf blinked. “No?”
“Yeah. No. N. O. That spells no, in case you weren’t clear. And you wanna know why? ’Cause I’m tired of this. I’m tired of you. I’m tired of your hillbilly, down-home bullshit. I’m tired of your Brendon trying to be like Mitch. I’m tired of Mitch. I’m tired of my mother, her sisters, my uncles, the cousins. I’m tired of all of it. And that’s why this shit ends here. And you know what the first step in my new life’s gonna be? It’s gonna be me going inside and telling your Brendon to shove that hotel up his fuckin’ ass. Because I don’t need him or his rich-boy hotel or his country-ass girlfriend who doesn’t seem to know the meaning of the word ‘shoes.’ So how that be, Deputy Dawg?”