“I didn’t know she called you that. And just leave her out of this. I’m talking about you and me spending some time together.”
“Forget it.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m not an idiot.”
“Jessie Ann—”
“It’s Jessica. Or Jess. No one calls me Jessie Ann.”
“Except me.”
“Look, are you letting me out of here, or do I have to start screaming for help?”
“If you don’t want to go out with me, fine. But know that I’m not setting you up for anything. I wouldn’t do that to you, Jessie Ann. You of all people should know that about me.”
Smitty pushed the button once more and walked out when the doors opened. Jess stared after him and, with a sigh of great annoyance, followed.
Smitty stepped off the elevator and ignored the sighed, “Smitty. Wait.”
Forced to use extreme measures and manipulations to get this difficult woman to give him what he wanted, Smitty utilized the hurt walk-away. It didn’t work on his sister, but Ronnie Lee fell for it every time.
He headed toward Brendon and Mitch, who stood a few feet away raiding the vending machines, but he wasn’t remotely surprised to feel Jessie’s hand grab the sleeve of his jacket.
“Smitty, hold on a sec.”
He raised his eyebrows to Shaw and Mitch before facing her. “What?”
“I wasn’t trying to hurt your feelings.”
“Then you did a mighty good job.”
“Are you actually…you’re serious? You’re really upset?”
He just stared at her, making sure his expression didn’t change. A cool move he’d learned from Mace years ago. Cats did have interesting skills, if you were willing to learn.
“Aw, Smitty, I wasn’t trying to—”
Jessie stopped and looked over Smitty’s shoulders at the two cats standing there doing what they all did so well…staring. And eating.
“Can I help you two with something?” she asked, obviously more than a little annoyed.
“No,” Shaw answered. “We’re fine.”
“You just keep talking,” Mitch added. “This is fascinating.”
“No, fascinating is what I’m gonna do to that pretty face—”
Smitty grabbed Jessie’s arms and pulled her back down the hallway toward the elevators. He’d forgotten about her temper. The girl could get mad at a bag of donuts.
“Now, now, Jessie Ann. Just calm down.”
“I will not calm—ooh! Chocolate.” And like that, Jessie wandered over to the nurses’ station desk to look over bars of chocolate someone had out to sell for their child. She never did stay angry long.
Smitty remembered how it had taken him a while to figure out Jessie wasn’t some flaky pup wandering from thing to thing, like most dogs, looking for a new smell or something to eat. Once she focused on something, absolutely nothing would distract her. But you had to be interesting enough to hold her attention; otherwise, she’d wander away in the middle of a sentence.
The thought that he might not be interesting enough to hold little Jessie Ann’s attention had his back teeth grinding. He simply wouldn’t allow her to dismiss him so easily. He wanted answers, dammit, and he’d get them.
Determined, he walked over to the desk and leaned against it while Jessie talked to the nurse manning the station.
“How much?” she asked.
“Dollar a piece. My son’s class is trying to take a trip to DC this summer.”
Jessie dug into her jeans pocket and pulled out a ten. “Here. I’ll take five.”
“Let me get you change.”
“Nah, put it toward his trip.”
The nurse smiled. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
Carefully selecting from the bars in front of her, Jessie quickly had her five. She handed one to Smitty. “Caramel,” she said simply.
She walked away and he stared at the candy in his hand. After all these years she remembered his favorite chocolate? He glanced at the stack left. There were chocolates with caramel and nuts. Caramel, nougat, and nuts. White chocolate with caramel. On and on it went. But he’d never liked any of that. He’d only liked chocolate-covered caramel.
Slowly, Smitty turned and looked at Jessie Ann. Really looked at her.
She was a bit taller now. Easily five-nine or so. Small for a wolf or most cats, tall for a full-human. Her jeans were everyday. No low riders with her underwear showing. She wore jeans to lounge in, not to entice. Her sneakers had seen better days, but she always liked to wear them until they literally fell off her feet. Her sweatshirt had COMIC-CON blazoned on both sides with a date nearly five years ago. And while standing in front of the elevator, she silently pretended her chocolate bars were Samurai swords. He knew this because she took up a stance you’d see in any bad American remake of a great Japanese Samurai movie.
Unable to resist, he said softly, “Jessie Ann Ward, what are you doing?”
Startled, Jessie snapped to attention, lowering her arms and her chocolate “swords,” and answered back, “Nothin’.”
Smitty grinned. He’d forgotten how much he’d always enjoyed her. With her brains came her wackiness, and he enjoyed them both.
Sauntering over, Smitty said, “Come over for dinner tonight.” She opened her mouth and he quickly promised, “Only me and you. No Sissy. No Ronnie Lee. No anybody.”
Her adorable face scrunched up with indecision. “Smitty, I don’t know—”
Now walking around her, “I’ll make my momma’s key lime pie….”
“Nice try…but no.”
“Fried chicken. Yams.”
“I hate yams.”
“Come on, Jessie Ann. What do I need to do to convince you—”
“Not be you.”
An explosion of laughter behind them had the pair glaring at the two cats who quickly turned to examine the soda machine.
Jessie looked back at him. “Look, I know you’re used to getting your way, but I’m not in the mood to play. I got a lot of—” Her phone rang, cutting her off. “Damn.” She looked at the caller ID. “I’ve gotta go.”
She pressed the elevator button. It opened immediately and Jessie stepped inside. “It was nice seeing you again, Smitty. Any more bills come up regarding Mace, just call our office. You’ll be on the phone list—only.”
Smitty watched the doors close. Did she really think it would be all that easy?
“Dis-missed!” Mitch said next to him.
“Brutally ignored,” Brendon added. “That must have hurt. Deep inside.”
Sure, he could agree, but that wouldn’t work. And they were too big as human to take them on directly. But they forgot he had four older, much meaner brothers.
Smitty put his head down and let out a dramatic, shaky breath.
“Oh, bruh, come on. She’s just a girl. Not even that cute.”
“Yeah,” Brendon agreed with his sibling as the pair moved closer to see if Smitty was crying. “You can do so much better.”
Even as he grabbed the brothers by the backs of their necks and slammed their big lion heads together, he appreciated their sentiment.
Heading toward the stairs and Jessie, Smitty tossed over his shoulder at the felines lying on the floor, “Thanks, y’all. That was sweet.”
Chapter 6
Jess ended her call and raised her hand; a cab stopped right in front of her. She’d just pulled the door open when a strong hand clasped around her bicep. Without thinking about it, she snarled, “Get your own damn cab, motherfuck—”
“Jessica Ann!”
Startled, she looked up at a still smirking Smitty. Christ, she couldn’t shake this wolf to save her life! “What now? And get off me,” she snapped, yanking her arm away.
“Since you won’t have dinner with me, I thought we’d get some coffee.”
And before she could tell him no, he had her by the scruff of her sweatshirt, dragging her to the Starbucks on the corner.<
br />
Although she welcomed the warmth once inside since she’d left her coat at the office, she still couldn’t believe the nerve of Bobby Ray Smith.
“Two regular coffees,” he said to the girl behind the counter.
“No.” If she was stuck here, she might as well get what she wanted. “Grande latte with nonfat milk, extra hot.”
“Latte? What kind of wuss drink is that?”
“Besides annoying me, is there something you specifically want?”
“Yup.”
She waited for him to tell her what that was, but, as usual, he left the “yup” hanging there…all alone. Annoying her beyond all reason.
“What, Smitty? What do you want?”
“Are you always in this much of a rush?”
“Yes, I have things to do.”
“Even the Lord takes a break.”
“Yeah, well, the Lord doesn’t have my overhead.”
Smitty grabbed the two drinks, and when he pulled her to a back table that’s when Jess realized he still had a good grip on her sweatshirt.
“You know, I can walk without your assistance.”
“Don’t want you running out on me again. I know how fast you move.”
He pushed her into a chair and sat across from her.
“Here’s your fou-fou drink.” He placed it in front of her. “And my manly regular coffee.” He sipped it and made a satisfied “ahhh” sound that made her want to twist his nipples off.
“What do you want?” she asked yet again.
“Let’s start off easy. What do you do?”
“What do I do about what?”
“I see ‘easy’ is still lost on you. I mean, what do you do, Jessie Ann? What pays for your precious overhead?”
“Systems security.”
“Which means what exactly?”
She went to stand up and she saw him tense. Would he actually chase her down? Would she mind?
“Stay,” she commanded before walking over to the counter that held all the necessary condiments for coffee drinkers. She grabbed a handful of brown-sugar and saccharine packets, wood stirrers, a metal container holding cream, and napkins, but the napkins were really for her since she had a tendency to wear her liquids as much as drink them.
Sitting back down, she placed the creamer on the table. “This is your company. See how it’s unprotected? All alone in the big bad world. And look, it’s saccharine coming to attack.” Jess placed several of the blue packets down, aimed toward the creamer. Then she broke the sticks in half and gave them swords. “See? They’re armed and dangerous.” She placed the brown-sugar packets between the creamer and the saccharine. “But look! It’s the sugars coming to protect us!” Now, thoroughly enjoying herself, she gave the sugar packets swords too. “Saccharine charges”—she moved the packets forward—“but the sugars battle them back with skill and the darkness within us all. They’re not afraid to kill and destroy in the name of justice—and cold, hard cash.”
Jess grinned, extremely pleased with her presentation. But when she looked up at Smitty, he sat there with his elbow on the table, his chin resting in the palm of his hand, and he was staring at her.
“What?” she demanded. “That’s not clear?”
Dang but she was cute. Cute as hell. Even when making absolutely no sense with her sugar packets and little sticks. “No, it’s not clear.”
Rolling her eyes, she sat back in her chair like a disgruntled child. “We create security systems for companies to protect them from your run-of-the-mill hackers to hardcore identity thieves,” she quickly rattled off. “We do hard coding, create software, and can even train a company’s IT people to help a company protect themselves. We have a lot of overseas clients, and the government has used us on occasion to train their people or to give advice. But we make them nervous, so they won’t give us any clearance. I blame Danny. But that’s another story. There? Happy now?”
“Why didn’t you say all that in the first place?”
“I gave you swords and a battle. A hero and an enemy. A defenseless damsel in distress. I gave you the makings of a terrific tale to tell your children.”
“All right then.”
“Forget it.” She glanced at her watch. “Look, I’ve really got to—”
“Lord, Jessie.” He reached across the table and grabbed her hand, pulling her arm out until he could look at her watch. “That’s a lot of watch for a little gal. What do you need it for?”
“To tell time.”
“I’ve seen admirals with the same watch. You planning on attacking those deadly saccharine packets by sea?”
Her eyes narrowed the tiniest bit and Smitty wondered how long before she decked him.
“Is there anything else you want?” That’s a nicely loaded question. “Or can I go now?”
“Sure, you can go.”
“Thank you,” she said in an exasperated sigh. Then she pushed her chair back and stood.
As Jessie walked past him, he added, “I understand you’re afraid.”
Not surprisingly, she froze in her tracks. Even when he had to coax her from trees, Jessie would get insulted if he even suggested she might be afraid. To her, hiding in trees and under bleachers was merely a preventive measure that any sensible person would do. “Excuse me?”
“You’re afraid. I completely understand.” He patted her hand like he would his grandmother. “It’s all right. You go on now.”
She took two steps back until she stood right next to him. “Afraid of what?”
“Of your feelings for me. That’s why you’re fighting me so hard.”
“I do not have feelings for you—other than hatred.”
“Now, Jessie Ann, we’ve always been honest with each other. Just admit you still want me—after all these years.”
She threw up her hands. “I’m walking away from this conversation.”
He figured. But he simply couldn’t help himself. It was such fun torturing her.
Smitty jumped up and followed after her. As he reached the door she’d already gone through, she was suddenly back, her small body slamming into his.
“What’s wrong?”
“Uh…” She looked back and then shoved him onto a small couch. Sitting down next to him, she grabbed his arm and yanked it over her shoulders. “Now just sit there and look pretty.”
A few moments later, three men walked through the door. Two were full-human, but the one whose eyes locked on Jessie…
Immediately, Smitty recognized the wild dog from Saturday night.
“Jessica! Hello!”
Jessie smiled and it had to be the fakest thing Smitty had seen since he went to Los Angeles on a business trip. “Sherman. Hi!”
Her forced cheeriness made Smitty’s back teeth ache, but the dog seemed to buy it.
“What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be hard at work as always?”
“Oh, I was. I was.” Jessie waved her hand dismissively. “But I was just taking a little break with my…uh…friend here.”
“Now, Jessie Ann, don’t play coy.” Smitty nuzzled her neck. “You know I’m your boyfriend now.”
As Jessie went tense all over, the male dog went from big and dumb to resentful in a heartbeat—like Smitty had dug up his favorite bone from the backyard. Didn’t he get that Jessie had no interest in him? How could she? The woman deserved better than some scrawny dog. Unfortunately for the dog, he wasn’t “getting it,” forcing Smitty to make it clear as crystal. So when that resentful doggy gaze moved from Smitty teasing Jessie’s neck to his hand, Smitty let his hand drop—right on Jessie’s breast.
Jessie let out a sharp breath, and the dog asked, “Well, Jessica. Why don’t you introduce me to your boyfriend?”
“Of course.” Jessie casually took the hand lying on her breast with hers and when she curled her fingers into his palm, she unleashed her claws.
Smitty grunted, but that was all. He’d kind of seen that one coming. But, dammit, it had been for her own good. And
he’d go to his grave saying that.
“Sherman Landry, this is Bobby Ray Smith. Bobby Ray, this is Sherman Landry.”
The dog already had his hand out for Smitty to shake, but it fell back at his side as he stared at him. Smitty had seen it before. That look. A look of fear and panic. And he knew the next words that would come out of the dog’s mouth.
“You’re a Smith?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Of the Smith…Pack?”
And there it was. A Smith could be any ol’ body. But a member of the Smith Pack, one of the direct bloodline, brought out all sorts of reactions from other shifters. Some looked down on them and others looked horrified. That one small phrase, “Of the Smith Pack?” followed Smitty around like stink on a pig.
“Yes, sir, I surely am of the Smith Pack. The Tennessee Smiths.”
“I see. Well, it’s very nice to meet you. Jessica, can I speak with you for a second?”
“Well, as you see—”
“Now.”
This had been what she’d been trying to avoid—time alone with Sherman Landry. Like most obsessive dogs that chased the same car every day, went after the same cat, slammed into the same mirror because they didn’t seem to grasp the only other dog in the room was themselves, Sherman wouldn’t quite give up on her. She really wished he would. He’d sent flowers to the office that morning, even though she’d told him about her allergies. How could Smitty remember sixteen years after the fact, but this idiot forget after two days?
He grabbed her hand and pulled her outside Starbucks into the cold, completely oblivious to the fact that she had no coat in ten-degree weather. Then he started rambling and she had a hard time focusing. Not merely because of the cold, but really because a tit grab had never felt so good before and Smitty hadn’t even squeezed.
“I’m not sure what the problem is, Sherman,” she snapped, too cold to bother being polite any longer.
“Jessica, do you know who you’re sitting with?”
“Well, since I just introduced him to you, I have a vague idea.”
“I don’t mean who he is. I mean who he is.” A physicist with several government contracts under his belt and a tenured position complete with his own lab at the local, blindingly expensive small university, Sherman still had the amazing ability of sounding like a complete idiot.