Brendon had kept most things to himself or between him and his sister. There were few he trusted with his personal information, but those hazel eyes patiently gazing at him made him feel remarkably safe.
“My brother took off again.”
She winced and he knew he’d been right. She did care. “I’m sorry, darlin’.” Her fingers tangled in his hair. “I know you’re worried about him. And I think you’re right. He’s definitely hiding something. But you can’t protect him if he doesn’t want you to. Whatever it is, I think it’s something he has to work out for himself.”
“I know. But I feel like I should help him. I didn’t know about him until he was fifteen and I wasn’t there to protect him like I should have been.”
“That’s not your fault.”
“I know. Doesn’t make me feel better, though.” He sighed. “It doesn’t make me feel less responsible for him being such a…”
“Fuckup?”
He nodded. “Yeah.”
She brushed his cheek with the palm of her hand. “I hate to tell you, but he doesn’t exactly look helpless. Plus it doesn’t seem like he wants anybody’s help. And, as my daddy would say, ‘fuckup’ is relative.”
Shaw gave a short laugh. “Your father sure has a lot of interesting sayings.”
“You have no idea. He’d also say there’s absolutely nothing you can do about any of this. Your brother’s grown. He needs to make his own decisions. All you can do is hope he starts doing the right thing and that he doesn’t set himself on fire in the process.”
Brendon frowned in confusion. “Huh?”
“Forget it. Long story. Now”—she smiled and he felt his mood lighten instantly—“you promised me we’d get out of here.”
“That I did.”
“Then don’t keep me waiting, hoss.”
“In one second.” He leaned his head down and rubbed his cheeks against her face, neck, chest, and finally her hands when she giggled and tried to push him off.
“What the hell?”
“Okay, now we can go.” Standing, Brendon placed her on her feet.
He moved toward the door while she sniffed her hands.
“Hey…Hey! Did you mark me?”
Grabbing the back of her jacket, he pulled her toward the door. “Stop squawking, sexy. It’s totally temporary.”
“Daaaaaaaaaddddddddddddyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy!”
Ronnie’s eyes crossed. The kid hit notes that made her feel like barking in response.
The little girl pulled away from her mother and charged head-on into Shaw’s arms. He picked her up, lifting her in the air. She squealed in glee again, her little legs kicking out.
Ronnie stepped back, not wanting to intrude and refusing to ask why Brendon Shaw brought her over to meet his goddamn kids. Means nothing, Ronnie Lee. Figured he’d just take care of it while he was out.
Yeah. That reasoning did sound stupid, didn’t it?
Not wanting to obsess about it, Ronnie did the only thing she could think of. She watched the quiet city street for any danger. She’d do the same thing if this were a Pack pup.
“What’s my baby girl up to?”
“Going to Grandma’s. New Year’s hunting!” she cheered.
Apparently Shaw’s child had one decibel level, and Ronnie’s head had already begun to throb.
A young couple walked down the opposite sidewalk, and Ronnie watched them with an intensity bordering on the psychotic. She couldn’t help it. She didn’t know them, wasn’t sure she liked them, and Shaw’s kids were right behind her. The pair must not have liked what they saw on her face because they sped up and disappeared around a corner. That’s when Ronnie realized Shaw had called to her.
“What?” She turned and found Shaw holding his daughter against his chest with one arm while he held the other out toward her. He wiggled his fingers and she took his hand.
“Baby, this is daddy’s friend, Ronnie. Ronnie, this is my daughter, Serena.”
“Hi, Serena.”
The little girl snuggled her father’s face while piercing gold eyes sized her up. Baby predators. Ya gotta love ’em.
“You smell different,” she finally said.
Ronnie nodded. “I do.”
“And you smell like Daddy, too.”
Glaring at Shaw, Ronnie said, “That I do.”
“So you’re Pride?”
“Uh…”
“Don’t be rude, Serena,” a lioness chided while watching the butler or chauffer or whoever load up one of the waiting limos. “We’ll be back about a week after the New Year, Brendon.”
“That’s fine, Allie.” He and his daughter rubbed noses. “When you get back you’ll be staying with me for a while, baby.”
The girl cheered and kissed her father’s face.
Another lioness walked out, a small toddler in her arms. “Hey, Brendon.”
“Hey, Serita.”
“Glad you could stop by before we left.” She watched the limo driver try and put a bag into the trunk. “No, no! Not like that. Oh, I’ll do it!”
She turned to Shaw, saw his hands full, and then turned to her sister who raised one eyebrow. “Hands full.”
Must be that one tiny Louis Vuitton purse she has on her arm.
“Here.” She looked at Ronnie. “You don’t mind, do you?”
“Uh…” Before Ronnie could answer either way, the little boy reached out for her, and the lioness practically threw him into Ronnie’s arms.
Shaw grinned. “You okay?”
“Yeah. Sure.” She’d held children before. Lots of them. She had more than thirty-five cousins last count. Still, this wasn’t some wolf pup. This was a lion. Future Breeding Male. It felt a little overwhelming. What if she dropped him or something?
“I’m assuming Missy’s not here, Allie.” Shaw rubbed his cheek against his daughter’s while he reached out and affectionately brushed his son’s head.
“Nope. She left early this morning with the other kids. Thankfully. If I had to hear her complain one more time about Mace and that woman, I would have ripped her arms off.”
“Low-class Po-rican whore.”
Shocked, they all looked at the little girl in Shaw’s arms.
Allie winced when Shaw glared at her. “I’m sorry, Brendon.” She tugged her daughter’s hair. “I told you those were bad words, Serena. And you’re not to say them.” Allie looked back at Shaw. “I’ll talk to Missy when I see her.”
“You better. I’d hate to have to enforce the terms of our contract because your sister can’t watch her mouth.”
“I said I’ll take care of it. Hey!” Allie snarled when her sister tossed one of the bags out of the trunk. “That’s one of my bags.”
Ronnie hugged the boy in her arms. Only two or so, if she was guessing right, with an incredibly out-of-control baby mane of hair. Not a full mane yet, but one day it might rival his father’s. “Contract?”
“Do you actually think I’d go into this without an ironclad contract?” he murmured, kissing the top of his daughter’s head and smoothing his hand down her back.
Lord, a breeding contract. Only lions would think of that. Wolves were much more…“in the moment.” A bottle of tequila and a quiet spot in someone’s backyard during a party, and whole Packs were created with matings lasting fifty or sixty years.
Curious, she asked, “What did they pay you…exactly?”
“Pay me?”
“You know…to…uh…” She lowered her voice to a barely there whisper, “Breed?”
Shaw blinked, then he exploded. “What?”
Ronnie took a quick step back while his daughter giggled. “You made him mad.”
“I just thought—”
“Well, you’re wrong.” He looked hurt she’d even think it. “The contract is only regarding the cubs. Everything is spelled out. Custody. Visitation. And basic ground rules. That’s it. Everything else is by…well…” He glanced down at his daughter’s head.