The Beast in Him Page 72

“She was also seventeen when she had you. I’m thirty-two. Big difference, kid.”

Johnny smiled. “I guess you don’t get all this by being a wuss, huh?”

“Nope.”

Jess happily breathed in the fresh air. “Might as well suck it up, Johnny. As I told you before, you’re stuck with us.”

“Right. Like the Mafia.” Seventeen this weekend but still a smart-ass kid as far as Jess was concerned. “So am I going to go hunting this weekend with the others? Or are you still gonna treat me like a pup who hasn’t cut his teeth?”

Jess placed her feet up on the railing and relaxed back. “We’ll see. The Stark Clan is here this weekend too.”

“So?”

“Those hyenas tend to come on our territory unasked.”

“Hence the fistfight at the grocery store.”

“They started it. And it wasn’t a fistfight—it was a shoving match.” Jess handed the mug back to Johnny. “No marshmallows?”

“I don’t like marshmallows.”

“Philistine.”

“Fascist.”

The pair stared off into the surrounding woods. It snowed all last night and now the entire property had a healthy bit of snow for them to enjoy. Jess had every intention of snowboarding this weekend. She’d completely recovered, physically and emotionally, from her ugly run-in with that rutting male elk last year.

Good thing wild dogs were fast runners.

Smitty did really well until the young cub climbed up onto his shoulders and bit into the back of his head. Slowly, he faced Ronnie Lee, who seemed engrossed in a gossip magazine.

“Ow,” he said.

Ronnie Lee glanced at him, but her eyes widened when she saw Brendon Shaw’s son trying to turn him into a meal.

“Oh, crap!” She tossed the magazine, pulled herself to her knees on the couch, and grabbed the cub off Smitty’s head. “Erik! We discussed this. Wolves are not for eating.”

When she pulled him away, Erik screamed and fought to get back to Smitty.

“I think he likes you.”

Smitty held his arms out. “Give him here.”

Before Ronnie could do anything, Erik charged back over to him, slamming his small body right into his chest.

Smiling, Ronnie said, “Kids love you.”

“It must be my charm.”

Unprompted, the cub in his lap began to howl. Loudly.

Ronnie placed her hand over Erik’s mouth. “Shush!” she ordered in a loud whisper. “I told you not to do that when your daddy’s in the house.”

“Ronnie Lee, what have you been teachin’ this cat?”

She shook her head. “Nothin’.”

“Ronnie Lee... ”

Ronnie grabbed her magazine and settledback into the couch, ignoring his chastising tone. “So what’s your grand plan here, Bobby Ray?”

“My grand plan?”

“To trap you a wild dog this weekend. That is why we’re here, isn’t it?”

“Lord, Ronnie Lee. I don’t know. I don’t know what I’m doing.”

She turned on the couch to face him, pulling her feet up so her toes grazed his thigh. Neither was too surprised when Erik grabbed them. For a toddler, he already seemed to have quite a few fetishes. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, one second I’m thinking, ‘She’s mine. She’s always been mine and I’m taking her.’ Then the next I think, ‘She’s not strong enough. Not to be part of the Smiths’.”

“You don’t know that, Smitty.”

“When I went after that bear, she hid behind a tree.”

Ronnie snorted. “I would have hid behind a tree unless you needed me.”

“No, you wouldn’t.”

“Smitty, every female in Smithtown knows—you never get between a Smith male and a regular fight. Ever. Sounds to me she was smart. Not weak. I won’t say it’s easy being part of the Smiths. But if she’s the right girl for you, neither of you may have a choice.”

“I know that.”

“I do have to say, she’s grown up real pretty, Bobby Ray.”

“That she has.”

“Pretty and still innocent enough to shame the angels.”

Smitty smirked. “Not all that innocent.”

“Why, Bobby Ray Smith, you’re gonna make me blush—Ow! Erik! That’s my toe, boy. Watch those teeth.”

As wolf, Sissy Mae sauntered into the room, the females behind her. She yipped at Ronnie Lee and motioned to the door with her head.

“Y’all go on now.” Smitty pulled Erik off Ronnie Lee’s feet. “I’ll watch Erik.”

“Are you sure?” She raised her eyebrows, letting him know she could still talk but not saying it because then Sissy Mae would demand to know what they were talking about. And even worse, she’d try to “help.” Nothing worse than Sissy Mae trying to help. She’d thought she’d helped last night when she sent him to Jessie’s apartment.

“Go. I’ll hunt tomorrow.”

“Thanks, darlin’.” She kissed his cheek and walked over to the door, opening it and letting the other She-wolves out. Then she shifted, shook off her clothes, and followed them outside.

“You sure are good with cats—for a canine.”

Dez sat down on the couch opposite Smitty, her son asleep in her arms.

“Not as good as you, my sweet Dez.”

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