“Nope.”

“Cereal,” they said together and moved to the next cabinet, pulling down all the boxes and placing them on the breakfast table.

Brendon got bowls and spoons while Mitch retrieved the milk. For thirty minutes, they ate all the cereal the Reeds had in their cupboards and finished all the milk they had in their two refrigerators.

“So you guys had a good time, I’m guessing.”

“Yeah. But we have definite boundaries.” And Mitch drew the little square with his fingers.

Bren blinked. “What the hell was that?”

“Her boundaries. She likes visuals.”

Brendon shrugged. “Whatever. How was it for you?”

Mitch winced. “Well, you know, Sissy is a really good friend, but I’ve gotta be honest here”—he leaned in closer, and his brother did the same—“that woman nearly fucked me blind.”

“I’m so glad I leaned in for that information.”

“Sucker.”

“You think you might get serious with her? Which I find disturbing and freakish all at the same time.”

“I don’t know. This can’t be permanent, Bren. Even if I wanted it to be.”

“You don’t think Sissy would move to Ohio for you?”

“Even if she would, I could never ask her. The woman is a Pack animal. I’m really glad Ronnie’s here because Sissy does not do well on her own.”

“So you’d never take her away from her Pack.”

“Would you? With Ronnie?”

Bren shook his head. “No, I wouldn’t. No matter how many times I find them lurking around our apartment or waking us up in the middle of the morning to find out if there’s anything good in our fridge.”

“See? You get it. I’ve gotta abide by Sissy’s boundaries no matter how hard it’s going to be.” And it was going to be so hard. He already knew that.

Mitch stared at the empty boxes and milk cartons littering the table. “Bruh…I’m still hungry.”

“I’m starving.”

“Fresh or cooked?”

“Wanna give fresh a try?”

Mitch stood and walked out of the kitchen and onto the porch. Several deer grazed no more than fifty feet away.

Grinning, “Bruh…family meal at twelve o’clock!”

“Sissy Mae Smith, as I live and breathe.”

Sissy stared up at the larger woman, her face purposely blank. “Uh…hi…uh…Brenda!”

“Bertha,” Ronnie hissed around her turkey sandwich.

“Right. Bertha. Sorry.”

Bertha rested her hands on her hips. “You just saw me last Thanksgiving.”

Sissy gave her a big smile and a perky, “Okay.”

“And I used to hang around you every day in high school, junior high, and grade school.”

“Uh-huh.”

Bertha flashed a fang. “You don’t know who the hell I am, do you?”

“Of course I do! You’re Brenda—”

“Bertha!” Ronnie hissed again.

“Whatever.”

The She-wolf snarled and marched back over to her friends.

“You are unbelievable.”

Sissy had to keep her head down so they couldn’t see her laughing. “I do it every time. She has got to be the dumbest canine on the planet.”

“You need to leave her alone.”

“But as an old friend, shouldn’t I tell her about Bobby Ray’s wedding?” The hate-hate relationship between Bertha and Jessie Ann Ward-Smith had been legendary. And long after Sissy had lost interest in torturing the little wild dog, Bertha simply wouldn’t back off. And that was for one reason and one reason only—Bertha’s thing for Bobby Ray.

“Sissy Mae…”

“How beautiful the bride looked?”

“Stop it.”

“How happy the groom is?”

“You’re never letting it go, huh?”

“You mean when she sucker punched me in eighth grade? That’s ridiculous.”

Before they could stop her, Sissy jumped to her feet and headed over to Bertha and her friends.

“You’re going to hell,” Ronnie reminded her for the millionth time.

Travis walked into his parents’ house and scented the air. No one around, but the whole damn house stank of cat and sex.

Damn. That girl simply couldn’t keep her legs closed. And the cat had a usefulness most of his kind didn’t have. A usefulness that Travis would be damned before seeing Sissy ruin it by messing with the man’s mind like she’d been doing to every male in a three-hundred-mile radius of Smithtown since the day she could walk.

He didn’t hate his sister. Not like she believed he did. But Travis didn’t like her. She never would acknowledge him as the strongest of her brothers, and she did that because she knew it bugged Travis. She liked bugging him. She liked causing shit. She lived for it. And if she left town and never came back, Travis wouldn’t shed a tear. He had daughters and female cousins, so he didn’t see much use for a sister.

He’d have to watch her closely. She could use the cat to her advantage, and Travis wouldn’t let her get any advantage in this town. He couldn’t afford to.

Travis left the team’s playbook on his parents’ kitchen table with a note telling Mitch to review it for that night’s practice. When he walked back outside, Donnie was running out of the woods and motioning to him.