Mitch stared at her calmly. “If you’d said that in the first place…”

When her eyes shifted and he saw a flash of fang, Mitch laughed and grabbed her hand, pulling her onto the bed with him. “I’m sorry. Sorry, sorry, sorry.”

“You better be. And when you go downstairs, you better look surprised, mister.”

“Yes’m.” He kissed her nose. “I promise. Total shock and awe.”

“Don’t chew the scenery. Just look startled.”

It had been his mother’s idea, and Sissy hadn’t been sure how well it would go. But so far, it had been perfect. A party for Mitch that was made up of her Pack, a good chunk of Jessie Ann’s Pack, Roxy’s Pride, and the Shaw twins had the place pretty well-packed from floor to rafters.

But it was nice. And fun.

Using oven mitts, Sissy pulled the large pan of mac and cheese out of the oven and placed it on the kitchen table. Wanting to give it a few moments to cool, she pulled off the mitts and turned back around.

“Oh.” She took a step back. “Bobby Ray.”

“Baby sister.”

“Everything all right?”

“Yup.”

“It’s so hard to tell with you sometimes.” She closed the oven door and turned off the heat. “So is there something you want?”

“Spoke to Dee-Ann today.”

“And?” Sissy pushed when her brother stopped talking and stood there.

“She’s thinking on it.”

“Why thinking and not doing? Were you not persuasive?”

“What do you mean?”

“What do I—” She sighed. “Did you tell her we’d love for her to move here and to join our Pack? Did you tell her we’d love for her to be part of the family here? Did you tell her we’d love for her to come work for us?”

“Work for us? You mean work for me, don’t you? Work for Mace.”

“Did you tell her all that?”

Bobby Ray shrugged. “I got it across.”

Sissy threw up her hands, turned away from him. “Fine. I’ll make a follow-up call myself. I swear, Bobby Ray, you don’t have the sense the Lord gave a rabbit.”

“I’ve got a proposition for you,” he said, wisely cutting off one of her potential tirades. Even she knew once she got going, she could really go.

“For me?” She faced him. “Do I have to give up a kidney?”

“No.”

“Become a better person?”

“No.”

“Achieve world peace?”

“Sissy Mae.”

She laughed. “Sorry. What’s your proposition?”

“We’re working with that Asian wild dog—”

“Which one?”

“Jessie Ann’s”—her brother snarled a little—“friend.”

“Oh. Kenshin Inu. He must really care about her. He stared at her with such longing at the wedding.”

Bobby Ray made an attempt to go, and Sissy grabbed his arm. “I’m kidding. I swear, I’m just kidding.” Still laughing, she pulled him back.

“That’s not funny.”

“So what’s the proposition?”

“I can’t ask Mace to leave Dez and Marcus for at least three to six months. And now that Jessie Ann’s pregnant—”

“You want me to go to Japan?”

“To work, Sissy. To. Work. Not to start shit. Not to race. Not to gamble. And definitely not to get arrested or turn all of Japan against you. Remember, I’m not stationed right around the corner like before.” He stuck his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. “You interested?”

She squealed as she did on occasions like this and threw herself into her brother’s arms. He caught her and hugged her.

“You’ll be working directly with Kenshin and his people. All wild dogs”—he held Sissy at arm’s length—“so be nice.”

“Darlin’, I was born nice. People love me. And Mitch is coming.” She squealed again and hugged her brother. This time, he didn’t hug her back.

“I didn’t agree to that.”

Sissy stepped away from him. “But you will, Bobby Ray.”

Bobby Ray crossed his arms over his chest, braced his legs apart. “Or what?”

Sissy mimicked his stance. “Either Mitch goes with me…or get used to finding your wife hiding in trees.”

“That’s just mean.”

“I’m a Smith. What did you expect?”

“Good point.”

The siblings stared at each other for long minutes until Bobby Ray snarled, “Fine. He can go.”

Sissy squealed and threw herself into her brother’s arms.

“Lord, Sissy. Stop making that noise!”

Mitch sidled up behind his older sister, Marissa. He leaned down and whispered in her ear, “I heard you cried for me.”

Her whole body stiffened, and she wouldn’t look at him. When he’d first seen her earlier in the evening, he’d only gotten, “Glad you’re not dead since Bren probably wouldn’t have stopped whining about it.”

To be honest, she’d asked to be tortured.

“It was…early. And I’m relatively certain I was still drunk.”

“Or”—he moved around her until they were face to face—“you love your little bruh and were terrified you’d never be able to tell him how much.”