“Sorry. I’m practicing for when we see Smitty and Mace.” Mitch’s bosses since he was no longer with Philly P.D. Although Gwen couldn’t imagine how annoying it must be to work for a slow-talking wolf and an even more superior-acting lion than Mitch and Bren put together.
“So you were thrown out?” Gwen asked.
“Not exactly.”
She felt that distinct throbbing in her temple that she always got whenever she had to deal with Mitch or their mother. “Mitchell.”
“There might have been a slight racing incident, but we won’t mention that. Kenshin, Smitty’s partner in Japan, is taking care of it anyway, so it doesn’t matter. Kenshin loves Sissy. She can do no wrong. Besides, we were coming back for the holidays anyway; we simply came back a few weeks earlier to avoid a possible arrest.”
“Is that what you two were arguing about?”
“Nah. She was complaining, yet again, how I make her carry more stuff, which led to a fight at the airport that attracted the cops. But I got us out of it—barely. But as I told her, I make her carry more stuff because she has all that upper body She-wolf strength and I have to make sure I don’t hurt myself before football season starts.”
Gwen’s stomach grumbled, but she ignored it. “Ma said you were playing with those hillbillies, but I thought she was kidding.”
“Those hillbillies are family now.”
“That’s enough,” Gwen said, appalled her brother would even say that sentence out loud, and stood. “I’ve gotta go.”
Her brother caught her arm as she tried to pass him. He eyed her closely, taking in her too-long flannel pants that couldn’t quite cover her bare feet and her Uncle Cally’s old Eagle’s football jersey that reached to her knees while the sleeves covered her hands.
“Why are you here?” he finally asked.
Should she lie to him?
Christ, why bother? It would only put off the inevitable, which would make it much worse in the long run. Best to face up to this now and get it over with. A philosophy she’d never employed with her family until very recently. “I moved here. About four weeks ago.”
“Moved here? Ma didn’t tell me you were moving here.”
Of course Ma didn’t. She wanted to make sure Mitch didn’t have time to think about any of this rationally, time to get over his concerns and worries. Nope. Ma wanted this meeting as raw and uncomfortable as possible. Easy enough, since Gwen didn’t have the guts to call him herself and tell him.
“Yeah, well. I’m here now.” She tried to pull away, but Mitch tugged her back.
“So you’re just going to live off Brendon?”
“Live off—” Gwen slammed her mouth shut. Don’t let him goad you. Don’t let him goad you. Calmer, she replied, “I’m not living off anybody. I’ve never lived off anybody. Brendon was nice enough to let me stay here for the time being, but now that you’re back I can go stay with Blayne.”
“Blaynie’s here, too?”
She couldn’t help but roll her eyes at the annoying nickname Mitch gave Blayne from the first day he’d met her. “Yes. Blaynie is here, too.”
“So I guess this was one of her dumb ideas. You two move here and…what? Be fashion designers? Supermodels—although with your thighs…” Gwen’s eyes locked on her brother’s throat and thoughts of tearing it out with her teeth ran through her head. “Or are you just going to be party people who hang out with the stars?”
“No.” Calm, Gwen. Calm. You can do this. “She…we…have taken over her dad’s business and moved it from Queens to Manhattan.”
Mitch stared at her for a long time until he snorted, and then his snort turned into a full-blown laugh, with his head thrown back and everything.
“You…you and Blayne took over Petty Officer Thorpe’s business? The man with Navy commendations up his ass gave his business over to you two?” He still held her with one hand while he repeatedly slammed the table with the other. “That’s fabulous!” he crowed. She was surprised he wasn’t rolling all over the floor as well.
“You done?”
Mitch’s laughter sputtered off when he saw her face. “Wait.” He sobered immediately. “You are kidding, right?”
“No. It’s all done and legal. Had lawyers and papers to sign and everything.”
“You’re serious?”
“When am I not?”
Incredulous, Mitch stood, his six-four frame towering over her, his hand still gripping her arm. Only now a little more tightly. “You’re not even licensed in this state.”
“Yes, I am.”
“When did that happen?”
“A year ago.”
“A…a year ago. A year ago and you never told me?”
“Why did I have to? It’s none of your business where I’m licensed. Here, Philly, Jersey, what do you—”
“Jersey? And what do you mean it’s none of my business? Is that what you just said to me?”
“Yeah. You want me to say it again? Louder?”
He released her by flinging her arm away. “Does Ma know about this?”
“Ma?” Gwen took a breath. “Mitch, I’m twenty-six. Ma knows or doesn’t know about my life based on what I wanna tell her. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve gotta get ready for work.”
“Hold up! Work? You think I’m letting my baby sister out there—alone?”
“You have no choice.”
“Like hell I don’t!”
Gwen threw up her hands and headed toward the bedroom. But Mitch caught hold of the back of her jersey.
“Wait, wait, wait.” When she spun on him, he quickly released her. “Wait. I just want to talk. Let’s start over and talk. Calmly. Okay?”
Deciding a little rational conversation with her brother couldn’t hurt, “Yeah. Okay.”
Lock reached for his cell phone and brought it to his ear. “Yeah?”
“Good morning, son.”
“Hi, Mom.”
“I need a favor.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Are you awake?”
“Of course I am.”
“Is there salmon?”
“Covered with honey,” he sighed.
“Lachlan MacRyrie! You wake up this instant!”
Lock’s eyes snapped open and he realized he was yet again not in his dream river eating salmon and taking cell phone calls from his mother while in bear form. “Dammit.”
His mother laughed. “You sleep like your father. It took me years to realize that he didn’t have some sort of brain disorder, but simply was never awake when I began speaking to him in the mornings.”
“Sorry, Mom.” Lock sat up, yawning and scratching his head with his free hand. “What’s up?”
“I need you to go over and check the house this afternoon.”
Lock smirked. “Check the house or check Dad?”
“What do you think? New workmen