Ira stared at the feline. “You sure about that?”

Bright gold eyes briefly narrowed, but the tigress managed to force a smile anyway. “I think he’ll like these. They’re honey.”

“I can take them.”

“No, no.” Brittany brushed past Ira and walked toward the house. “I’d like to give them to him myself.”

“He’s probably asleep.”

“Doubtful!”

Ira thought about picking the bitch up by the back of the head and throwing her out onto the street, but no. She wouldn’t do that. Her brother was thirty-three. It was time for him to learn how to handle pushy broads like this. Preferably without his sister’s protection.

Ira walked to the front door and unlocked it. Just as she stepped inside, the She-tiger pushed past her, heading right toward the kitchen. Sighing, Ira began to follow, but she abruptly stopped, sniffed the air. And she knew what she smelled in this living room . . . honey and sex.

Biting her lip to keep from giggling like a ten-year-old about to rat out her brother, Ira walked briskly through the house until she reached the kitchen. Brittany stood in the doorway, gazing into the room. She frowned in confusion.

Ira, nearly a foot taller than the feline, only had to look over her head to see that the kitchen was a mess. Open jars of honey were everywhere, in the sink was a strainer with some dried-out pasta, and a saucepan half-filled with sauce.

“I’ve never seen the kitchen look like this.”

Neither had Ira, but sex was the great distractor. It distracted people from work, family, friends, and, of course, housecleaning.

Brittany gasped softly. “Irina,” she whispered.

Ira stepped into the kitchen, but other than the mess she didn’t see anything . . . until she looked down. That was when she saw Vic’s big foot sticking out from under the kitchen table.

Biting her lip harder now, Ira crouched down and saw her brother, in all his naked glory, wrapped snake-like around a naked Livy Kowalski.

Now, Ira’s first reaction to seeing this was, “My brother and a honey badger?” She couldn’t help herself. Honey badgers had one of the worst reputations in the world of shifters and the world of full-blood animals. But then when she really thought about it, the whole thing actually made sense. Ira and Vic were hybrids, which meant they had unique issues. Issues that not every breed or species could handle. But from what Ira knew about Livy, the woman could handle anything but bad art and that crazy cousin of hers.

Still . . . Vic was Ira’s brother. And as a sibling, she couldn’t just walk out and let the lovebirds get up to face the day in their own time. That was what non-siblings did.

“Victor Barinov!” Ira yelled, imitating their mother’s accent perfectly. “What you do with this girl? Nasty boy!”

Vic sat up instantly, yelling, “Mama, I’m up, I’m up!” seconds before his head rammed into the hard wood of the kitchen table.

Livy, however, went right for Ira’s face. Ira caught the badger’s hands first, shuddering a little when those claws that honey badgers used for digging and killing came so dangerously close.

“Oh,” Livy said. “Hi, Ira.”

“Ira?” Vic rubbed his head, wiped his eyes, yawned, then realized he was naked in front of his sister. “Ira! What the hell are you doing in my bedroom? Get out! Out!”

“You’re not in your bedroom, genius. You’re in the kitchen. Naked. With Olivia.”

Vic, at a loss, roared. Ira roared back, the windows rattling from the combination of the two powerful sounds. They could have kept it up for a while until Livy screamed, “Cut it out!”

They both stopped and Livy looked around. “What time is it?” she asked.

Ira looked at her watch. “Almost eight.”

“Shit. We should get back.” Livy slid out from under the table and stood. Ira, still crouching, turned a bit so she could see Brittany’s reaction, because yes, Ira was that petty.

Although Brittany appeared shell-shocked by all this, Livy didn’t seem to notice. She did, however, notice the food.

“Cool. Honey buns.” She grabbed two off the tray, sniffed them carefully—which did nothing but piss Brittany off—and nodded. “Thanks.”

Biting into one of the buns, she walked out.

Vic managed to awkwardly get himself out from under the table, but he grabbed a dish towel and held it over his groin. “Uh . . . hi, Brittany. Um . . . yeah.”

Growing increasingly red from embarrassment, her brother tried to get out of the kitchen without having to actually deal with anything. Something Ira couldn’t possibly let happen.

“Vic, don’t you want a honey bun?” she asked her brother, which got Ira a vicious feline glare from her sibling and his neighbor.

“Mr. Bennett will see you now.”

Dez stood and walked into the office of Lyle Bennett. He was an older man, with gray hair and bright blue eyes. He smiled when she walked in, standing tall behind his big mahogany desk. He held his hand out and Dez shook it.

“Detective.”

“Mr. Bennett. I won’t keep you.”

“No problem. I’m happy to assist our police department in any way I can.” He gestured to the plush leather chair on the other side of his desk. “Please. Sit. Tell me how I can help.”

Dez sat down, tried not to groan at how wonderful the office chair felt. She briefly wondered if her perpetually picky mate, Mace, would let her fill the house with these things. They were great!