“So are you in, Miss Smith?” he asked.
“Not sure. Don’t much like feelin’ hemmed in.”
“We’re not the military. And, as a boss, I’m quite hands off.”
“Except the Unit’s been keepin’ an eye on me. Even following my friends around. I don’t like it.”
“You won’t have to worry about them once you’re with us. They just want to make sure you haven’t snapped your bolt.”
“Who would be my contact here?” Dee asked, doubting Van Holtz himself, who hailed from the West Coast, would do that job.
“You’ve already met him.”
Dee thought a moment, then couldn’t help but give a little sniff. “That kid?”
“Ulrich is hardly a kid. Actually, I think he’s only three years younger than you.”
And a little too damn pretty for her to trust her life with. “He’s the best you can do?”
“He’s the best. So are you in or out?”
She shrugged. “In.”
He grinned. “Are you always this enthusiastic?”
“Pretty much. Like my daddy.”
“He was one of our best.”
“He still is.”
Van Holtz nodded and said, “Welcome to the Group, Dee-Ann.”
Dee-Ann looked out the window to watch the city move by. She didn’t know if it would be her home forever, but it would do for now.
Gwen grabbed her mother’s purse and dug around until she found the aspirin. Roxy never needed headache medication for herself, but she usually kept a small bottle in her bag for Gwen.
She poured two in her hand, glanced at her mother, who was “yoo-hooing” over at Lock’s uncles, and went ahead and poured out another three.
Blayne placed a bottled water in front of her and climbed over the back of the booth to get into the seat.
“Figured you could use this.”
“Thanks.” Gwen downed the five pills in one swallow and chased them with the water. “Between the singing and my mother…”
“I know, I know. Still…better than the club.”
“Only because my mother yelled more while we were there.”
Gwen closed her eyes and waited for the pills to take effect, but that was when she heard Blayne fidgeting.
“What, Blayne?”
“What what?”
“Your leg is bouncing, so I know it’s something.”
“I don’t know what you—”
Gwen put her hand on Blayne’s knee, forcing her leg to stop bouncing up and down on the ball of her foot. It was a habit she’d had for years.
“Spit it out, Thorpe.”
And she did, in one long sentence: “Cherry wants you to stay on the team and she definitely wants you to stay with us through Nationals because we’ll be going up against the Texas Long Fangs and I heard they’re really mean and I know you said you were only doing this for one bout, but you were so in it, and it was so you and you and me are the most rockin’ team ever and…and…and you’re not saying anything.”
“I didn’t think you’d notice.”
“Come on, Gwenie!”
“You already know what I’m going to say.”
Blayne’s face scrunched up as she squeaked out, “You’ll say…yes?”
Gwen shrugged. “Yeah, all right.”
The squeak turned to a loud squeal and she hugged Gwen while the wolves and felines glared at Blayne and the dogs barked.
Putting her knees on the booth seat, Blayne looked over at her teammates, now Gwen’s teammates. “She’s in!”
The Babes clapped and cheered and Gwen couldn’t help but smile until she saw her mother leering at her from the other end of the booth. At the moment, her mother sported a lovely black eye courtesy of Sharyn McNelly. It was a black eye that Roxy deserved, too, since she’d snatched off McNelly’s wig in front of everybody outside the stadium.
“Just wipe that look off your face,” she told her mother. “I still haven’t forgiven you.”
“Why can’t you simply admit you’re blessed to be the daughter of Roxy ‘The Rocker’ O’Neill?”
“When did this become about you? How did this become about you? This is about me.” Gwen pointed at her chest. “Me, me, me. For once…me.”
“Selfish,” her mother muttered, turning away from her to hit on Lock’s Uncle Hamish.
Gwen’s mouth dropped open that her mother dared toss that word at her when Blayne elbowed her.
Still glaring, Gwen faced forward and blinked up at Lock. “Uh…Lock?”
“What did I miss?” her bear asked. “I heard applauding.”
“Gwen’s joined the Babes,” Blayne cheered, hugging Gwen again.
Lock grinned. “I had a feeling that was coming. You looked way too happy out there.”
“Yeah, but Lock—”
“I know, I know. And believe me, I didn’t mean any of the stuff I said to you in the hallway. But based on your family dynamic, I knew coddling wouldn’t work, so I gave you the proverbial kick in the pants you needed. Don’t be mad at me.”
“I’m not mad, it’s just…look at your hands.”
Frowning, Lock looked down at his hands. “Oh, gosh!” He dropped the Shaw brothers, both lion males grunting when they hit the floor. “I did it again.”
“Again?” Blayne asked.
“Remember? Bears beat up their prey, then drag them into the bushes to feed,” Gwen explained.
“Ohhh. That’s why Daddy always said never let them take you to a secondary location.”
“I think he was talking about serial killers, sweetie.”
“Oh…it still sorta applies, though.” Blayne jumped up and over the back of the booth. “I’m going to circulate.” She kissed Gwen on the cheek. “You’re totally, like, the best friend ever,” Blayne teased.
“You say that now, but you won’t when I kick your ass in training, heifer.”
Head down, Blayne walked away but Gwen yelled after her, “None of that sloppy skating when we go to Nationals!”
Lock took Blayne’s seat and asked, “How long before you’re cocaptain?”
“I give it six months.”
Picking up her hand from the table, Lock kissed her bruised and bloody knuckles. “I was really proud of you tonight. I have the toughest girlfriend ever,” he finished, mimicking Blayne.
“You do. And I have the sweetest, most cuddliest, most adorable bear ever.”
Grinning, they rubbed noses, moving in closer to kiss, but abruptly stopping when that hand slammed onto the table and Mitch lifted his head from the floor.
“Dying,” he gasped. “Internal bleeding. Call. Ambulance.”
“Ma,” Gwen whined, not in the mood to stop flirting with her boyfriend.
Roxy slammed her hand down on the table and snapped, “Jesus Christ on a cross, Mitchell O’Neill Shaw! Get off your lazy ass and stop acting like a baby! You’re embarrassing me!”
“Dying! Painful death!”
Roxy pointed a finger at her son. “Don’t make me get the staple gun out of the back of my car. I will use it.”
“But will it stop the bleeding?”
Ignoring her brother and mother, Gwen leaned into Lock and said, “Any interest in getting out of here?”
“And miss Phil’s rendition of ‘Rawhide’?”
They glanced up at the stage. The wild dog even had a whip.
“Tell me you’re being sarcastic,” Gwen said.
“I actually have to say I’m being sarcastic?”
Lock eased out of the booth, stood, and held his hand out for her. Gwen took it and let Lock lift her up and over her brothers’ bodies. With their fingers twined together and mostly oblivious to the rowdy crowd of shifters all around them, they headed toward the exit and home.