“Are you sure you don’t want to go?”
Glancing down at the pile of legal papers Bobby Ray had shoved into her arms and the ripped, seen-better-days cutoff shorts, scuffed and decades-old cowboy boots, and the worn Lynyrd Skynyrd T-shirt that once belonged to her daddy, Ronnie shrugged. “I know this is the perfect outfit for the thirty-degree weather we have outside, but I think I’ll stay in.”
“You don’t have to be a smart-ass. I was just askin’, Ronnie Lee.”
Feeling bad for sniping at him, she pushed her shoulder against Bobby Ray’s. “Sorry. But I blame your sister for my cranky attitude.”
“Told you not to go drinking with her anymore.”
“I know. I know. But she’s so persuasive.” Ronnie Lee juggled the papers in her hands and reached out and yanked Sissy Mae’s hair.
“Ow! What was that for?”
“For leading me down the path of sin and drunkenness.”
“Looked to me like you were gettin’ there fine all on your own.”
Bobby Ray slammed another four thick envelopes filled with papers from his lawyer on top of the pile she already carried. “Just drop these off in my room when you go back up.”
“Sure.”
“If you need us, we all have our cells.” Bobby Ray frowned. “And why did management call me about your ripping the phone out of the wall?”
“It wouldn’t stop ringing.”
Shaking his head, Bobby Ray turned to one of the other males, and Ronnie focused on Sissy Mae. “How do you do it?”
“Do what?”
“Remain so perky and fun loving after a drinking bout like the one we had last night?”
“Easy. I take a couple of aspirin before I go to sleep.”
“That’s it?”
“That’s it.”
“So my momma’s right. You are Satan.”
“Can’t prove it.”
Ronnie started to laugh until the scent hit her. That big delicious cat scent that three days ago she would have sworn she’d never like, much less lust over.
Swallowing her slight case of panic, Ronnie Lee reminded herself she was a Reed and she wouldn’t go running because of some cat. Besides, he’d forgotten all about her. Right? No use making a fool over herself for a male who wouldn’t even remember her.
Determined to stand her ground, Ronnie watched Shaw stride into the hotel lobby, looking amazing in a thick cable-knit forest-green sweater, faded blue jeans, and scuffed work boots. As soon as he appeared staffers came from everywhere, demanding his attention and asking him to sign things. He dismissed all but one with a wave of his hand. She had a feeling the much smaller man, a full-human, walking with him to the front desk was Shaw’s personal assistant. Lord in heaven, the man has a personal assistant.
She held her ground until he stood no more than forty feet from the Pack, then she panicked. Ducking her head, Ronnie took a step back. Sissy Mae glanced over and abruptly moved in front of Ronnie, blocking her from Shaw’s sight. That was the one thing Ronnie did love about Sissy. She’d give her shit later about being a wimp, but she’d protect Ronnie now, no questions asked.
Lord, but did she need that.
To her growing horror, Shaw stopped beside the Pack and glanced up from the paperwork his assistant had shoved into his hands. He looked at Bobby Ray and she started to step away, run really, but Sissy grabbed her shirt and held her in place. Smart woman. As a predator, Shaw would immediately notice a female sprinting out of the room.
Knowing something was going down, both Marty and Gemma stood beside Sissy Mae, further blocking Ronnie from Shaw’s sight.
“Your Mace’s friend, right?” Shaw asked. “From the tunnels the other night.”
“Yup,” Bobby Ray answered back…eventually. Bobby Ray didn’t believe in rushing much of anything. Especially words.
“Thanks for that.”
“Welcome.”
She silently sighed. Males.
Shaw turned to say something to his assistant, and Sissy gave Ronnie a shove to move her from the room. Perfect timing.
Ronnie sprinted to the elevator and repeatedly mashed the call button. “Come on,” she begged. “Come on.”
Finally, after what seemed like forever, the elevator doors slid open and Ronnie rushed inside. She juggled the big manila folders and papers in her hands so she could push the button for her floor. Once it lit up, she leaned back against the wall and let out a sigh of relief when the doors began to close.
But when that big hand reached in and slapped itself against one of the big metal doors to stop it from closing, she barely stopped herself from letting out a yelp of surprise. Ronnie pushed herself up against the wall and held her breath as Brendon Shaw walked onto the elevator with his assistant.
“Comp them for their rooms.”
“Sir?”
“Did I stutter?”
“Not usually, sir.”
“And make sure they have everything they need while they’re here.”
“Yes, sir. And your sister called.”
“What did she want?”
Ronnie glanced up at the numbers and willed the floors to go by faster.
“Um…” The assistant glanced at her. “It can wait, sir.”
“Timothy, spit it out.”
He shrugged. “She just said, ‘Tell him bite me.’”
Instead of being angry, Shaw let out a deep laugh. He had a nice laugh. Low and real. She liked it.
“She’s pissed at me. I left her alone with Missy Llewellyn.”
“I’d be mad at you, too, sir,” Timothy joked, laughing right along with his boss until the elevator stopped on the twenty-fourth floor. “I’ll be here late, sir, if you need me for anything.”
“No. Don’t be here late. Go home and see your…uh…”
Smirking, Timothy asked, “My boyfriend, sir?”
“Yeah. Whatever. Can’t we just call him Frank?”
Now grinning, Timothy stepped off the elevator. “If you say so, Mr. Shaw.”
“I do. Go home. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Night, sir.”
The elevator doors closed and Shaw let out a breath. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see him glance at her. He stared at her bare legs for a bit, then looked away.
She knew then he didn’t remember her. Like she guessed, once the fever wore off, he’d gone back to being a big arrogant cat with no use for “dogs.”
What annoyed her was how irritated she felt by it. She’d nursed the man through his fever and then had one helluva orgasm with him. You’d think he’d remember something.
She should have known better and felt damn grateful she hadn’t fucked him. The humiliation if she had…
The elevator stopped on the thirty-eighth floor—a shifter-only floor—and she stepped out without looking at him. She went down the long hallway until she stood in front of Bobby Ray’s room, digging into her back pocket for his keycard while trying not to drop her pile of papers.
She’d just swiped the card, unlocking the door, when he bellowed “You were going to pretend you didn’t know me, weren’t you?” had Bobby Ray’s precious papers and envelopes flying everywhere.
Brendon couldn’t believe how angry she’d made him. Did she really think he wouldn’t notice her? That he hadn’t smelled her as soon as he walked into the lobby? He’d kept his mouth shut to see if she’d say or do anything to acknowledge who she was, but when he saw her duck down to hide from him, his heart sank.
He could have let her walk away. He almost did as he watched her scurry from the lobby like a frightened mouse. But he’d been simply too angry to let her get away with it. It didn’t help, either, how damn good she looked in those shorts and boots.