He closed the front door and walked into his living room, retrieving the jacket he’d thrown at his couch the night before so he could hang it up. His phone went off and he pulled it out of his pocket and glanced at the text message from Sabina.

WHEN WILL I GET MY CHAIR, JERSEY BEAR?

DON’T MAKE ME WAIT.

How long exactly before she got on his nerves? She was always pushy, always demanding the software jobs sooner than they were contracted for. But this wasn’t some software job and he sure as hell wouldn’t let her bully him when it came to his…Oh, God.

He’d been about to say “his art.” What had the feline done to him?

Flipping his phone so he had access to the extended keyboard, Lock focused on typing and retyping his reply. He hated these keyboards. The were simply too small for his thumbs. He ended up hitting three to four keys instead of the one.

Lock was seriously starting to get frustrated when he glanced up and saw the She-wolf standing in the middle of his living room.

The phone went flying, he roared, and before he even realized it, his claws were swinging for her face.

She caught his arm with her left hand and pressed her gun to his throat with the right.

“Easy, boy,” she said. “Easy.”

It took Lock a minute, but then he let out a breath and his claws retracted. As soon as he was calm again, she lowered her weapon—and smiled. “Miss me, hoss?”

“You crazy little—” Lock grabbed her around the waist and hugged her right off her feet.

“Dee-Ann Smith,” he snarled against her neck. “Where the hell have you been?”

Gwen eased the hotel door open and stuck her head in. The room was dark, the drawn curtains keeping the seven A.M. sun out. But she didn’t need light to see. She was nocturnal, after all. Searching carefully, her brother nowhere in sight, she quickly but silently eased inside. Closing the door, Gwen tiptoed to her room to get fresh clothes.

She closed the door behind her and tossed her bag onto the bed. Moving to her closet to grab a pair of her work boots, Gwen opened the door as her mind debated on a headband or stubby ponytail for her hair. Perhaps the ponytail in case baby rattlesnakes fell into her hair. Ick! Snakes! How she would manage going back into that snake farm—which is what she and Blayne kept calling the home of that poor couple with the snake infestation—Gwen didn’t know. But if she could just keep—

“Ahhhhhhhhhh haaaaaaaaa!”

Gwen yowled and spun up, her claws digging into the ceiling and holding her there as her brother stormed out of the closet.

“Where the hell have you been?” he screamed up at her.

And Gwen screamed down, “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Don’t try and change the subject on me, missy! You’ve been gone allgoddamn weekend and didn’t even let me know if you were alive or dead!”

Gwen retracted her claws and dropped from the ceiling, landing on her hands and feet.

“I want you to learn a new phrase,” she said as she stood up and shoved him with both hands. “None of your business!”

Mitch waved his hand in front of his nose. “Christ almighty! What is that funk on you?”

Gwen smirked. “Eau de Grizzly.”

“I knew it!” Mitch threw his hands up. “And you’re crazy if you think I’m lettin’ this go. I’m not letting my little sister hook up with some idiot bear!”

“You can’t stop me!” she yelled at him as he stormed out of the room. “But maybe you can call Ma and rat me out again, you overgrown tattletale!”

Gwen slammed her door shut, but she could still hear the window-rattling yell of a pissed-off She-wolf,

“Would you two shut the fuck up? Some of us are trying to sleep off a hangover!”

Lock was still laughing when he opened his front door. “Hey!” he slapped Ric on the back and ushered him in.

“Should I assume the weekend went well with the lovely Gwen?”

“It went great. But remember when I told you about the van that had been following me?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, now I know why. It wasn’t me they were interested in.”

“Aw, little bear. I’m sure someone, somewhere is interested in you.”

“Very funny. Come on.” He motioned to the living room. “I want you to meet somebody.”

Ric stopped walking, head lifting, nostrils flaring. “You have another woman here.”

“Yeah. That’s who I want you to—”

“Why do you have another woman in your house?” Ric demanded, turning on him. “What if Gwen came back over? You know women do that all the time. What if she wanted to surprise you and you, imbecile, have another woman in your house? Did you not see how she reacted to Peggy?”

“You mean Judy?”

“Does it matter? Don’t be an idiot!”

Before Lock could ask Ric when he’d gone completely off the rails, Dee-Ann sauntered out of his living room. “I could eat. You hungry?”

“Yeah, uh…” Ric suddenly gripped Lock’s bicep, cutting off Lock’s words and the flow of blood. “Ow!

Do you mind, Van Holtz? I’m rather attached to that arm!”

Dee-Ann smiled, sauntered a little closer. “Who’s your friend, MacRyrie?”

Lock pried Ric’s fingers off his arm. “This is Ulrich Van Holtz. Ric.”

“Oh, yeah. Lock talked about you all the time.”