She kept smiling until he walked out of the room, then she went to her closet and grabbed the high school football jersey Mitch had kept at their mother’s house. Gwen had taken it, because she liked to wear it even though she knew her brother would lose his mind if he found out. She dropped it to the floor, unleashed her front and back claws, and proceeded to rip the living shit out of it!
When she was done, she put the shreds in a paper bag and stuck it in the back of her closet. When the time was right, she’d hand it right back to him. Maybe with a bow on it.
Lock had his nephew on his lap and one of his nieces hanging from around his neck. His mother was in the kitchen arguing with his sister, and his oldest niece, the seven-year-old, was learning how to flirt on Ric.
Ric had an open invitation to the monthly MacRyrie meal, even attending when Lock was in the Marines and didn’t come home for over a year. And Lock didn’t begrudge Ric a moment of that time, either. Because he knew it was one of the few times Ric truly felt like he was part of a family as opposed to just part of a Pack.
Tragically, however, Iona had also brought a friend. For the first time in ages, she’d dragged that unhealthy looking carcass over, Judy Bennington. A one-time supermodel and now an agent, Judy was a sun bear who needed to eat more. No bear, boar or sow, should be that thin. Even worse…she apparently still had a thing for Lock, and she’d had that thing since he was a senior in high school. Yet unlike most predator males, Lock’s libido was actually attached to his brain and nothing about this woman had ever gotten him hard or even made him smile. She was a shifter who’d walked into his parents’ house wearing real mink, for Christ sakes!
Lock was also smart enough to know that Judy’s current interest in him was more about the fact that, at least in modeling terms, she’d passed her prime. She wanted a man to take care of her as she grew older. Not that he’d begrudge her that, but he wasn’t that man. She was so busy being “fabulous” that she was never very interesting. Lock liked interesting.
I like Gwen, he thought with a smile. And if there was nothing else he could say about that woman, he could sure say she was interesting.
“So how have things been going with you, Lock?”
His real smile faded and he forced on a fake one. “Fine, Judy. And you?”
And that, as he knew it would, sent Judy off on a good ten minutes of talking about herself. At the seven-minute mark, he looked across the dining table at Ric, who crossed his eyes and tried not to fall out of his chair with boredom. If Lock were more of a predator and less of a bear, he’d toss Ric to Judy and hope for the best. But Judy detested wolves and Lock couldn’t do that to any man.
Iona placed two large bowls of berries on the table, swiped up the empty cheese and crackers tray, slapped her son’s hand away from the berries, and said to Lock, “Did Judy tell you about her newest client?”
“She’s in Paris,” Judy said, gripping her glass of chardonnay. “For a photo shoot. She’s gorgeous and I snagged her young. Thirteen.”
Lock glanced over at his young niece and could only think of one response. “Eew.”
Ric snorted and looked away, but his sister cuffed him in the back of the head. A skill she’d picked up from their mother.
“Lachlan!”
“Sorry, but she’s thirteen! She should be dealing with zits and telling boys ‘no.’ Not whoring herself out to European designers so Judy can make her twenty percent.” And before his sister could yell at him, Lock snarled to Ric, “And are you going to answer that phone or am I going to break it?” The wolf had it on vibrate and the sound of it was driving Lock insane.
“I know it’s my father. We had one of our…disagreements earlier today.”
“Then either turn that phone off—” Lock said, standing when he heard the front door bell “—or throw it out the window. But do something.”
Lock walked through the house and had his hand on the doorknob when he heard his parent’s home phone ringing and Ric urgently whispering at him, “Don’t look surprised!”
Jumping a little, Lock glared back at him. The wolf had his phone to his ear and was watching him. “What?”
“Don’t look surprised.” He was still whispering. “Whatever you do.”
“Okay.” Shaking his head, wondering when everyone around him had lost their minds, Lock pulled the front door open—and stared.
Gwen gazed up at Lock, her eyes wide. What a nightmare this had all been! First, her brother had to drag her into the car. Not because she’d been fighting him on going—oh no, she was more than ready to take this stupid, ridiculous sibling fight all the way to its stupid, ridiculous conclusion if it killed them both!—but because Ronnie Lee felt the need to come along and Gwen had refused to get in to the car with her. In the end, Gwen had sat up front while Bren, Sissy, and Ronnie Lee got the back. Although any time Gwen had heard any strange noises from the backseat, she’d look at them—and while Sissy was busy texting someone from her cell, Ronnie and Bren just looked horrified. Gwen didn’t know why, though. She was just looking at them over her shoulder…or maybe more her spine. But so what?
Tragically, that wasn’t the end of the evening…it was only the beginning. Now she was trapped on the MacRyrie porch with Mitch behind her, his hand gripping her shoulder. He’d insisted on walking up to the house with her, and Bren had insisted on coming with Mitch because, “They’re bears, dumb ass…they kill.” And that had meant Ronnie insisted on coming with Bren because, “The Lord knows I gotta protect that pretty face from those bear claws,” and of course that meant Sissy had tagged along, “’Cause I don’t wanna be left out, y’all!”
Really? Has my life come to this? Really?
Now here they all stood, the grizzly gazing down at her, then at Mitch, Bren, Ronnie, Sissy, and finally back at her. Gwen was seconds from giving up and saying, “Fine. Take me back to Philly,” when Lock said, “You’re late.”
She almost collapsed right there, at his feet. She fought the urge.
“Traffic,” she managed to get out.
“Lucky for you that when it comes to dinner parties, my mother is always running late.” He stepped back and held the door open for her. “You have time for a drink before dinner.”
“Great!” Mitch said, pushing past his sister and walking inside, the rest of the psychopaths following.
Panicked, Gwen turned to Lock, and he shrugged.
Acting like the King of the Jungle Idiots that he and Bren were, the brothers walked right through the MacRyrie house like they owned it until reaching the dining room.
Gwen rushed in behind them, skirting around Ronnie to get to her brother. “I thought you were just dropping me off.”
“We’ll leave in a minute. What’s the rush?”
“Hi, Gwen.”
Gwen forced a smile at Ric Van Holtz—because why should she keep her embarrassment between her family and the bear? She shouldn’t. Everyone should know!—“Hi, Ric.”
Grinning, Ric smiled at Bren. “Brendon Shaw. Nice to see you again.”
“Ulrich.”
“Did you get the payout from the Board for the territory encroachment and the attack on your sister?”
Uh-oh.
Bren’s eyes grew wide in panic and Mitch asked, “Someone attacked Marissa?”
“Uh…”
“No,” Ric answered, probably trying to be helpful. Maybe. “Gwen. And Blayne. By the McNelly Pack out of Staten Island.” It was a toss-up of who Mitch would go after first—but he went with Brendon.
“My sister was attacked on your territory, and you didn’t tell me?”