“Isn’t it enough you have poor Mitch here playing against bears?” They all looked at “poor Mitch,” who seemed to be having the equivalent of an orgasm eating that slice of cherry pie.”

“Mitch, Mitch, Mitch. If I stay, you’ll only fall madly in love with me like so many men before you.” “It’s you we have to worry about,” he sighed out. “You’ve already been trapped in my erotic web of lust. Might as well give it up to the daddy of all cats.” Grinning, Sissy stretched out next to Mitch, her arm thrown over his waist. “You keep on dreamin’ that dream, kitty.” “I will. I own ponies in that dream, too.”

“A karaoke bar?" Mitch glared at him. "You dragged us to a karaoke bar?""She didn't tell me it was karaoke.""You know it's bad enough having to listen to you guys howl all the time. But this...this may be asking too much. Dogs. Singing." Mitch turned to the bar and lashed Smitty with another glare. "And no goddamn liquor. You know, as per shifter law, I could legally kill you.”

“He opened the front door and Gwen said, “Lock?”He stopped immediately. “Yeah?” Did he have to sound so eager when he was the one making the decision to go? Damn him! “Uh…could you leave him here? He kind of comes with the place.” Frowning, Lock glanced down. “Oh, jeez!”Oh, jeez?“Sorry about that.” He immediately dropped the lion he’d dragged from the couch to the door, back to the couch, and back to the door. “Habit. Usually I bat my prey around until they stop fighting and drag them off to the brush to…well…you know.” He looked down at Mitch. “Sorry about that…uh…”“Mitch,” she told him. “Mitch. Right. Sorry about that, Mitch. And nice to meet you.”

“Really, Mitch Shaw had absolutely no shame. Sissy knew this when he walked into the Lewis Sisters’ Pie Shop and dropped to his knees in front of the cold case. His hands rested on the glass, and he looked at each pie like a small child would. “I…I can’t make up my mind,” he gasped. Like Mitch needed to make up his mind. He could finish everything in that case and still be hungry less than an hour from now.”

“Mitch was looking really good these days. Healthier. Stronger. Happier…except at this moment. He looked unusually cranky.”

“I’m not talking about them. We told you before, Smith, we wouldn’t play if her”—he pointed at Sissy—“or her”—he pointed at Ronnie—“were playing.” Mitch looked at her. “Uh…Sissy?” Sissy rounded on the coach. “I can’t believe you are still holding that against us. It’s been years!” “He was in traction for three months. A shifter! In traction!” “He was in my way!”