“And wow…was that a lot of perfection to look at. Seven feet and three hundred and fifty pounds of perfection. While most guys—most guys being her brother, cousins, and uncles—would be lapping this up—pocketing numbers, getting girls to strip, and playing “who can get my kilt to rise”—Lock looked more like a bear cub cornered by hungry grizzly males. But what exactly did he expect in that outfit? She didn’t want to imply he was asking for it but…he kind of was!”

“My brother got shot three times two months ago, and he didn’t get the fever.” “I bet your family gets shot at a lot, huh?”

“Are you my daddy?”Ricky Lee Reed, originally of Smithtown, Tennessee, and only replanted to New York City a few years back, gawked at the child who’d asked him the question for a mere moment before he turned his attention to the adult female who held the child.He’d admit it wasn’t a question he expected to get, you know, ever. For a bunch of reasons, too, but mostly because he didn’t know this woman. He wasn’t one of those guys who nailed so many females he forgot their faces or names. So then . . . why was this child asking him this question? And even stranger, why was the female raising her brows and suddenly asking, “Well . . . are you?”Wait. Wouldn’t she know? Shouldn’t she? Good Lord, this city.”

“He didn’t. But I didn’t beat him up,” Lock quickly added. “I…I simply threw him five…or maybe it was fifty feet into a tree.”The two friends gazed at each other for a long moment.Finally, Lock shrugged. “That does make it all kind of awkward, doesn’t it?”

“You’re like seven feet tall, aren’t you?”“I am not seven feet tall,” he snapped at her as if she’d really insulted him. “I’m six-eleven.” When she smirked in disbelief, he added, “And three-quarters.”

“It’s all right.” He stretched his shoulders out, the flesh between his blades sore, which meant his grizzly hump had grown while he was still human. Rare and not good. “Really. It’s all right. And I can understand if you’re not comfortable staying here tonight.” He looked up at her. “Or if you want some space or…if you…if you…why are you getting naked?”

“Lock grinned at Gwen. “He’s fun,” he said, reaching out and cuffing Mitch without even looking at him. “He just keeps trying to get back up.” Bam! “It’s great.” Bam! “Like ‘The Little Lion Who Could.’” Bam!”