Sissy almost hated her family for making her do the one thing she’d swore she’d never do…need her momma.

“Let’s get these tires on,” she grumbled, beginning to sound like her daddy.

Dee, who seemed totally in her element, practically skipped over to the car.

Sissy scowled at her cousin, her hands on her waist. “If you don’t tone the cheer down, I’m gonna beat the shit out of you.”

Dee cleared her throat and grabbed hold of the tire. “All right then.”

Travis pulled his helmet off and motioned to Donnie, who limped over.

“What’s the deal?” Travis asked his brother once he’d limped close enough.

“Well, to be blunt…he ain’t gettin’ any.”

Travis watched Mitch take down an offensive linemen. The entire team winced when they heard poor Bart hit the ground.

Mitch was one of those players who could play any position on a team. Wherever you needed him, he’d fit and then he’d excel. And the more he watched the boy play, the more Travis realized he needed this kid. Not just for this particular game—he’d probably be wide receiver in this game—but other serious competitions they’d have over the next few years.

The problem was Sissy. She’d be the key to Mitch coming back to town when they needed him. But Sissy didn’t stick with any man for long. The other side of the problem was when Sissy was putting out, she drained the boy until he was damn near useless.

A conundrum as his daddy would say.

“When’s the race?”

“Wednesday. Everybody’s gonna be there.”

Of course everyone would be there. Nothing like a little competition between the females. The full-humans could keep their mud wrestling and wet T-shirt competitions. Travis would happily bypass all that to watch a showdown between women who’d rip the flesh from your bones when annoyed.

“All right. Let’s call off practice. We’ll go help Sissy.”

Donnie tilted his head in surprise. “All right.”

Sissy continued to bang out the dent on the front end when she saw boots standing next to her. Slowly, she looked up from her crouched position and sneered.

“What do you want?”

Travis Ray smiled, and Sissy bared a fang.

He held his hands up, palms out. “I only came to help.”

“You? Help me?” Sissy stood. “Why?”

“Can’t a brother simply help his—”

“Try again.”

“Our loyalty is to—”

“Again.”

Travis shrugged. “Five to one in the lions’ favor. But if y’all win, I can clean up.”

Sissy nodded. “Yeah. That sounds about right.” She handed him the hammer. “Guess youbetter get to work then, hoss.”

Mitch opened the family room door and walked in. As soon as he stepped inside, the smell of food cooking hit him right between the eyes. He dropped the football equipment the team had given him and headed straight toward the kitchen. Sissy sat on the counter, her legs banging the cabinet doors underneath, a racing magazine open on her lap.

She looked up and smiled. “Hey. Dinner should be ready in another—oh!”

Mitch picked her up and started to carry her toward the stairs. Quickly decided that was too far and dropped her on the kitchen table.

“Mitchell—”

He covered her mouth with his hand. “Not a time to talk. Just get those shorts and panties off. Now.”

“Yeah, but—”

“Again with the talking?”

“Just turn the heat off on the stew.”

He turned and quickly shut off the flame heating their dinner. When he turned back around, she was just getting her shorts un-snapped.

“Too. Slow.” He grabbed hold of the shorts and yanked them down her legs before reaching for her panties and ripping those off completely. He had his own sweats halfway past his ass when Sissy shook her head. “What now?”

“Condoms. And don’t snap at me.”

He turned and reached into the far cabinet, moving a few things around and finally pulling out a big box of condoms. When he turned back, Sissy looked absolutely outraged. “Are you high? Putting those up there? What if my parents came home and we—”

“They were already there.”

Sissy blinked. “What?”

“The box was already there. I’m assuming your parents had it—”

She squealed and dived off the table.

“Where the hell are you going?”

“My parents”—she pointed at the table—“they’ve done it on this table.”

“Yeah. Probably. And now we are. Get your ass over here.”

She squealed again, sounding remarkably like a girl. “I’m not doing it on there…where my parents have…have…done it.”

“It’s been cleaned.”

“That’s not the point!”

“You’re being ridiculous. Your parents have condoms stashed all over this house. I’m sure—”

That’s when she squealed and ran.

“We’re going to a hotel,” she yelled as she ran up the stairs. “Or…or live in the car! Anything but staying here!”

Mitch grabbed a condom from the box, kicked his sweatpants and sneakers and socks off, and ran up the stairs after Sissy. He found her in her room, shoving clothes into the duffel bags they’d brought with them.