But Cella kept her eye on him, just in case he looked particularly miserable. As she peeked in on him through the kitchen window, he still didn’t look too bad, so she went back to washing the dishes.

“Okay,” her mother said from behind her, putting more plates in the sink. “I take it back.”

“Take what back?”

“That bears have no purpose on this planet other than to annoy me. That Mr. Crushek is very cute.”

Cella chuckled. “You are such a bigot, Ma.”

“Of course, I’m not. I just think cats are better than everyone else. Doesn’t make me a bigot. It makes me a realist.” She kissed Cella’s cheek. “You holding up all right?” she whispered.

“Yeah. But she’s pushing me.”

Deirdre had been in rare form the entire evening. Lots of jokes at Cella’s expense, always under the guise of “just kidding” or “Isn’t she adorable when she’s fucking up?” But Cella knew better. The woman wanted to make her look bad in front of Crushek, and in front of Meghan. And any other time, Cella would go toe-to-toe with the witch, but not this time. Instead, Cella sucked it up, smiled, and found reasons to walk away. For the first time at any family party, Cella spent more time in the kitchen helping with food and doing the dishes than she did outside with her uncles, father, and godfathers.

Kathleen walked in through the sliding door, more dishes in her hands. “I’ll get one of your cousins to take over here,” she promised, placing the plates in the sink. “Go spend more time with your girl.”

“Did Bri leave yet?”

“No. He was giving that bear the third degree for a while, but now he’s avoiding your brothers.”

“I told them to lay off Bri.”

“They don’t know how. But Pauline’s taking care of it.”

“Great. Thanks.”

Kathleen stood on the other side of Cella. “He seems like a very nice boy.”

“Bri?”

“No, idiot. The bear. I have to admit, I was a little put off when he first walked in. I haven’t seen a scowl like that since my grandfather died. But he’s very sweet.”

“He is.”

“And he doesn’t know what to do with you.”

“Who does?”

Kathleen relaxed against the counter, her arms crossed over her chest. “He doesn’t have any family except those brothers, eh?”

“Nope.”

“Heard you already punched one.”

“He was pretending to be him. It was rude.”

“Don’t worry. I think he liked when you did that anyway.” Kathleen patted her shoulder and whispered in Cella’s ear, “That’s the kind of man you want, Cella Malone.”

“Any more ice?” one of her brothers yelled from the yard.

Cella rinsed soap off her hands and dried them. “In the outside freezer. I’ll get it.”

“Hurry up,” another cousin told her. “We’re putting out the cake.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll be right there.”

Cella went out the side entrance to the open garage door and to one of the two big freezers. She was reaching for a bag of premade ice when the cold air around her shifted and she caught a scent. Cella lifted her head, took another sniff.

She went to the standing safe she kept at the far end of the garage, punched in the combination, and pulled open the heavy steel door. She took out a .45 and quickly added the silencer. A sound behind her had her spinning around, weapon raised, both hands clasped around the grip. But when she saw Crush, she lowered it.

He came close, whispered in her ear, “Bears, about a block away. No one I recognize. Are they Group?”

“Trust me, everyone in the Group knows not to come to my street uninvited. And there are no bears in a ten-mile radius of any Malone property.”

Crushek shook his head. “Then I don’t like it.”

Making sure the silencer was on tight, Cella said, “Let’s go check it out before my family gets involved.”

She motioned to the other side of the street and he followed her out of the garage. Crushek had had a holstered gun clipped to the back of his jeans when he’d gotten in his car, but she hadn’t had a problem with that. Being armed was just smart planning now that he was playing in her side of the pool. Besides, every Malone eighteen or older knew how to use a rifle. When questioned, they said it was because they went on hunting trips. But Malones didn’t hunt. Not like that anyway. Yet they always had rifles in their homes. That was just the way of things.

Moving down the street, Crushek raised his hand and, with two fingers, signaled for her to go around the other side of the cars and SUVs that lined both sides of her block.

They could see a black Range Rover parked at the head of the block and it wasn’t one of the Malone vehicles. Again, she raised her weapon, as did Crushek, but as they got close, Cella saw her Uncle Ennis come out of his house. He’d left the party a few minutes earlier to round up some of his homemade wine. And behind him were six of his sons, Cella’s cousins.

Cella reached out and grabbed Crush’s arm, pulling him back. When he looked at her, she shook her head. He scowled in question, not understanding. But these were interlopers on Malone territory and they would be handled by the Malone men.

Uncle Ennis’s gold eyes locked on her and with a tilt of his head he motioned to the Range Rover. Cella shook her head. They weren’t friends of hers or Crushek’s.