“Brendon.” Sissy turned on the swing to face him. “You do know he brags about you all the time, don’t you?”

All Mitch could do was shake his head. His brother? Bragging? About him?

“How could you not know?”

“What does he say?”

Now fully annoyed at Mitch, she began checking things off on her fingers. “That you were a football star at your high school. That you graduated high school and college with honors. That you’ve been awarded citations or whatever in your little police department.” Only Sissy would dismiss the entire Philadelphia Police Department as that “little police department.” Christ, he liked her.

“How proud he is of you. And how you’re his brother. Blah-blah-blah. His chest puffs out when he’s talking about you, and he’s already a large man.”

“Wow.”

“You really didn’t know?”

“Nope.” Resting his chin against his fist, his elbow on the back of the swing, he asked, “And Marissa?”

“Let’s not ask for the unobtainable, hoss.”

“Good point.”

“So while your siblings are running around bragging about you and sobbing over your lifeless body, I’m stuck with my crew.”

“Is it that bad?”

“One time I told Travis I was thinking of applying for a receptionist position at a law office, and he said, ‘Don’t they usually hire pretty girls for that?’”

Mitch gritted his teeth. He hadn’t even met Travis yet, but he already hated the man.

“Luckily, I already know how amazing I am, otherwise I would have been devastated.”

“And he’s just jealous.”

“Jealous? Of what?”

“He’s jealous of you.”

“Is that right?”

“Of course! Because no matter what he does, when he puts on your shorts and one of your bras, he never looks as cute in them as you do.”

And keeping her laughing for the next hour made Mitch feel amazing.

Chapter 6

Sissy woke up about one in the afternoon…alone.

They’d gone from the porch to the family room and spent a good portion of the night watching late-night television and laughing. The last thing Sissy remembered was resting her head on Mitch’s shoulder while they discussed the benefits of doing an infomercial for Mace and Bobby Ray’s security business and how disgusted both former Navy SEALs would be if they even tried to suggest it—which meant they would.

And now she woke up on the same couch but with no Mitch. Maybe he’d gone back to bed. She hoped so. The man needed sleep. Real sleep, not simply unconsciousness from blood loss.

Sitting up, she rubbed her face and stretched until she heard all sorts of pops andsnap noises that did nothing but make her worry about her general bone health. Then her stomach grumbled, and everything else took a backseat. Throwing off the blanket she had on her legs, she stumbled into the kitchen. She pulled open the refrigerator, determined to get to the food before Mitch had a chance to clean her out, and froze. There was nothing left but a carton of rancid Chinese food her parents had left behind. She went to the overhead cabinets and checked there, but all the cereal and Pop-Tarts that her parents kept for their grandkids were gone as well.

Selfish feline!

Annoyed beyond reason, Sissy stomped upstairs, hoping to wake his big cat ass up with the noise. She took a quick shower and went to her room to get clothes. Once she’d pulled on a pair of denim shorts, bra, and T-shirt, she stomped down to Bobby Ray’s room and threw the door open. But the bed was empty.

Sissy turned back toward the hallway. “Mitch?”

No answer, so she ran down the hallway and stairs, calling out for him.

As she slid into the kitchen, she noticed for the first time the folded notebook paper on the table.

Starving. Went into town for food. We need supplies, woman! You’re not caring for me properly.

Then an annoying smiley face.

Her eye twitched.

Went into town? By himself? What is wrong with that man?

Sissy charged outside, running full speed toward town, her rental car completely forgotten since she walked most places when she visited anyway.

It had never occurred to her that he might wander off on his own, but she should have remembered that he’d never go hunting if he could help it. Male lions were scavengers at heart. Used to being taken care of by the females in their life. Since Mitch didn’t have his own Pride to feed him, he spent most of his time in restaurants or getting his food delivered.

Sissy cut through the woods far opposite from the part of the woods she’d traipsed into last night.

She cut through several of her relatives’ backyards, waving to the ones who yelled out greetings while she ignored the small deer that leaped into her path. Her stomach growled, but she kept going until she hit the main road that led into town. Of course, that’s when she slammed right into the side door of a bright red ’78 Camaro, the impact tossing her back into the woods.

Times like this, she was grateful to be a shifter.

She heard tires squeal when the person driving hit the brakes. A few seconds later, a door opened, and a gruff female voice called out, “Hello?” Then Sissy heard sniffing as the She-wolf tried to track her.

“I’m over here,” Sissy responded while pushing herself up until she was on her hands and knees.

Footsteps moved closer, and then she heard, “Hey. Sorry. Are you…wait. Sissy Mae?”