“Kin?”

Uh-oh.

“Family.”

“Oh?” Another glance at Mace. “Your family is here. And do they get along with Mace too?”

Mace had to look at Smitty for that himself. He always sensed that most of the Pack barely tolerated him.

He should have known, though. Being Southern, Smitty would never say anything anyone would consider cruel in front of strangers.

“Oh yeah! My momma says Mace is her sixth son.”

“Really?”

“My sister’s with me too, and she loves her some Mace.”

“Does she now?” Dez turned to Mace. Boy, did she look annoyed. “You haven’t changed one bit, Llewellyn.”

He leaned back, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “I never said I had.”

“But you did lie to me?”

“No. Missy really doesn’t want me to come to her banquet. I simply don’t give a shit.”

“And if that happens to play on my sympathies, you conniving bastard?”

“I know what I want, Dez. You know how I am about that. Remember the Ring Dings?”

She pushed her hands through her hair. He kept frustrating her. Good. “We are not discussing the Ring Dings, Mace. Christ, we are too old for this. I’m too old for this.”

“So, say you’ll come out to dinner with me and then I’ll stop.”

“No.”

“I refuse to hear that.”

She turned to Smitty. “You tell him, Smitty. Tell him I said ‘no’.”

Smitty gazed at her. “You sure have some pretty eyes, darlin’.”

Dez looked startled, then she beamed. “You are as bad as he is.”

Mace realized in that second the two of them were having a “moment.” Well, that’s not acceptable.

“Jesus, Dez. What’s that?”

Dez, following where Mace pointed, turned to look behind her. While he had her temporarily distracted, he took his other hand, wrapped it around the back of Smitty’s neck, and slammed the man’s head into Dez’s desk.

When she snapped back around, Mace watched her innocently, Smitty gripped his forehead, and Dez’s partner began to hysterically laugh.

“What did you do?”

Mace blinked. “Nothing.”

Dez stretched her legs out on her couch and studied her painted toenails. That and waxing her brows were her only female indulgences. It was Christmastime, so her color of choice this week? A merry red. She smiled, wondering if Mace would like that color on her.

She shook her head. Mace Llewellyn. Back in her life after all these years. Persistent as ever too. Only now he was persistent about her as opposed to the Ring Dings. She wondered why. Why his sudden interest in her? They’d been friends throughout ninthgrade. Very good friends. The move to Queens had been quite the ordeal, and when she’d finally gotten up the courage to see him…well, his sisters got to her first. They made it clear that with her Bronx accent and less-than-sparkling manners, she would never fit in with him or his family. In the end, she’d be nothing but an embarrassment for him.

Dez sighed and glanced at the television. Sirens from one of her favorite episode of Cops blared incessantly while a police dog took down a perp. The man kept moving, and the dog only bit down harder. If he stopped moving the dog would stop biting. Suddenly she knew how that perp felt. She kept moving and Mace kept biting down harder.

Damn. She kept doing that. Thinking about Mace Llewellyn. Why couldn’t she get the man out of her mind?

Because he reminded you what that hole between your legs is really for.

She shook her head. She didn’t have time for this or for him. Being a cop was her priority. Always had been. Always would be. Just ask her ex. And she wasn’t about to go through those conversations again. So Mace would have to back the hell off.

Yeah. Good luck with that.

A big, wet tongue slathered across her ear, and she turned her head just enough to get another lick right across her face.

“Yuck!” She pushed her dog’s giant paws off the couch, but for some reason that seemed to indicate he and his brother should join her on her large sectional. Suddenly she had a hundred-and-fifty-pound dog resting against her back, the other splayed across her lower legs.

“You two comfortable?” They both answered with a snort. When she’d gotten home, she’d put the two through their paces while she wore the bite sleeve. She loved working her dogs. It made a day of being a New York cop easier for some unknown reason. Maybe because she had an outlet for her stress and two amazingly well-trained and very protective dogs to show for it.

“So, what do you guys think? Mace Llewellyn—the man of my dreams? Or another schmuck looking for his chance at these beautifully painted toes?”

Her dogs whined. They’d barely tolerated her ex. They definitely wouldn’t make room for some new guy Dez always sensed wasn’t exactly a dog person.

“Don’t worry, guys. I remember the rules. Love me. Love my dogs.”

Dez leaned back against her furry Rottweiler-sized pillow and watched some stupid perp run from a man wearing a uniform holding a gun and yelling “Freeze.” Then they’re shocked when they tazer their butts.

Dez grabbed a bowl of chips. “Why do they always run?”

Mace should have known better. Drinking Uncle Willy’s moonshine continued to be a bad idea. Especially when you were horny and desperately wondering whether the woman of your dreams moaned or growled during sex.