Okay, so he was back. No reason to panic because he was back. And he looked good. Better than he had the morning he’d gotten shot after Jess Ward’s wedding. Gwen still woke up in a cold sweat from time to time, the image of her brother lying on the floor of his hotel room in a lake of his own blood. She closed her eyes, not wanting to think about that. She didn’t want to think how close she’d been to losing the big idiot. Yeah, he was a pain in the ass. And yeah, he didn’t know when to cut it out—no matter what “it” may be. And yeah, he could sometimes be the most overbearing, overprotective, and overly delusional big brother on the planet.

But he was her big brother, and Gwen loved the asshole even when he didn’t deserve it, so all that mattered to her was that Mitch was safe and very alive.

Still…it wasn’t Christmas yet!

After name-dropping Brendon, Mitch ordered several platters of waffles, French toast, and bacon, along with a vat of orange juice.

When he hung up, Gwen asked point-blank, “Why are you back so soon?”

“We didn’t get thrown out.”

Gwen glanced around the room, searching for who might have asked the question that led to that answer.

“Huh?”

“Sorry. I’m practicing for when we see Smitty and Mace.” Mitch’s bosses since he was no longer with Philly P.D. Although Gwen couldn’t imagine how annoying it must be to work for a slow-talking wolf and an even more superior-acting lion than Mitch and Bren put together.

“So you were thrown out?” Gwen asked.

“Not exactly.”

She felt that distinct throbbing in her temple that she always got whenever she had to deal with Mitch or their mother. “Mitchell.”

“There might have been a slight racing incident, but we won’t mention that. Kenshin, Smitty’s partner in Japan, is taking care of it anyway, so it doesn’t matter. Kenshin loves Sissy. She can do no wrong. Besides, we were coming back for the holidays anyway; we simply came back a few weeks earlier to avoid a possible arrest.”

“Is that what you two were arguing about?”

“Nah. She was complaining, yet again, how I make her carry more stuff, which led to a fight at the airport that attracted the cops. But I got us out of it—barely. But as I told her, I make her carry more stuff because she has all that upper body She-wolf strength and I have to make sure I don’t hurt myself before football season starts.”

Gwen’s stomach grumbled, but she ignored it. “Ma said you were playing with those hillbillies, but I thought she was kidding.”

“Those hillbillies are family now.”

“That’s enough,” Gwen said, appalled her brother would even say that sentence out loud, and stood. “I’ve gottago.”

Her brother caught her arm as she tried to pass him. He eyed her closely, taking in her too-long flannel pants that couldn’t quite cover her bare feet and her Uncle Cally’s old Eagle’s football jersey that reached to her knees while the sleeves covered her hands.

“Why are you here?” he finally asked.

Should she lie to him?

Christ, why bother? It would only put off the inevitable, which would make it much worse in the long run.

Best to face up to this now and get it over with. A philosophy she’d never employed with her family until very recently. “I moved here. About four weeks ago.”

“Moved here? Ma didn’t tell me you were moving here.”

Of course Ma didn’t. She wanted to make sure Mitch didn’t have time to think about any of this rationally, time to get over his concerns and worries. Nope. Ma wanted this meeting as raw and uncomfortable as possible. Easy enough, since Gwen didn’t have the guts to call him herself and tell him.

“Yeah, well. I’m here now.” She tried to pull away, but Mitch tugged her back.

“So you’re just going to live off Brendon?”

“Live off—” Gwen slammed her mouth shut. Don’t let him goad you. Don’t let him goad you. Calmer, she replied, “I’m not living off anybody. I’ve never lived off anybody. Brendon was nice enough to let me stay here for the time being, but now that you’re back I can go stay with Blayne.”

“Blaynie’s here, too?”

She couldn’t help but roll her eyes at the annoying nickname Mitch gave Blayne from the first day he’d met her. “Yes. Blaynie is here, too.”

“So I guess this was one of her dumb ideas. You two move here and…what? Be fashion designers?

Supermodels—although with your thighs…” Gwen’s eyes locked on her brother’s throat and thoughts of tearing it out with her teeth ran through her head. “Or are you just going to be party people who hang out with the stars?”

“No.” Calm, Gwen. Calm. You can do this. “She…we…have taken over her dad’s business and moved it from Queens to Manhattan.”

Mitch stared at her for a long time until he snorted, and then his snort turned into a full-blown laugh, with his head thrown back and everything.

“You…you and Blayne took over Petty Officer Thorpe’s business? The man with Navy commendations up his ass gave his business over to you two?” He still held her with one hand while he repeatedly slammed the table with the other. “That’s fabulous!” he crowed. She was surprised he wasn’t rolling all over the floor as well.

“You done?”