“Am not, and stop trying to use guilt.”

“Now,” Francine cut in, “when are we gonna get our Sissy Mae settled?”

“Uh…”

But before panic could set in fully at that ugly question, Mitch suddenly grabbed her from behind.

“Excuse me, ladies. I need to use Sissy as my human shield.”

He lifted her up, and not surprisingly, she was abruptly face to face with her brother.

Sissy sighed when she saw her brother’s scowl. “What did he do now?”

“The boy needs to keep his hands to himself.”

“Actually, my hands weren’t involved at all.”

Bobby Ray reached around her, trying to grab Mitch’s throat.

“Now ya’ll stop it, right now! Bobby Ray, go on. Dinner will be soon, and you need to drag that bride of yours away from the other Pound Puppies.”

“Stop calling them that. And remember what I told you, boy.”

After her brother stalked away, Sissy slapped at Mitch’s hands. “Let me down right now, Mitchell Patrick O’Neill Shaw.”

“Uh-oh,” he said to her aunts while placing her on the ground. “She used my full name. That means I’m in trouble.”

“I thought the rules were set?” Sissy faced him, and she barely stopped her frown. Not for what Mitch had done. Hell, that was downright tame. No, it was because Mitch had been looking…she couldn’t explain it. There were dark circles under his eyes, and he was losing weight. He was smaller than his half-brother, Brendon, but she had the feeling that wasn’t quite right. Mitch was one of the swamp cats. They were bred big and powerful. But she’d noticed that Mitch didn’t eat much, and that was only getting worse. She tried to get him to eat more, but he’d been picking his food lately. Something was going on with him. Something more than usual, and she had to find out what. There were not a lot of guys she respected enough to call friend. Females were her friends; males she actually respected were usually family or damn near. But most men were simply potential fucks in her mind and nothing more. Mitch had been the first who’d moved past that in Sissy’s world, and Sissy took care of her friends.

“Look, Mitchell, if I can’t start shit, you can’t start shit.”

“I was helping out the bride.” He looked at her aunts. “I was merely checking to ensure her bodice was fitting her properly.”

Francine asked, “And I guess you had to get right up in there with that pretty face of yours to check that out, huh?”

“If my friend needs me to do that, then—excuse my crude language—dammit, yes. That’s what I’ll do.”

Sissy chuckled and started to scratch her head, then remembered she still had that damn fake flower wreath in her hair. According to the bride, these things were big at Renaissance Faires…Sissy still had trouble dealing with thefact she now knew people who openly admitted going to those things. “You’re simply not happy if your life isn’t in danger, are you?”

Mitch grinned. “Don’t be jealous of me and Jess. You know I’d check your bodice anytime you wanted me to.”

“Stop talking.” She grabbed his arm and tugged him closer to her aunts. “Mitchell, these are my momma’s sisters. Miss Francine, Miss Darla, Miss Roberta, and Miss Janette. Ladies, this is Mitchell Shaw, Brendon Shaw’s baby brother.”

Busy shaking each aunt’s hand, Mitch still managed to glare at her over his shoulder. “Is that the best way you can describe me? Simply as Brendon Shaw’s baby brother?” He sighed sadly, sad gold eyes looking at her aunts. “She’s afraid to tell you lovely ladies the truth you know. What she wants to say is Mitchell Shaw, the man I love and adore with all my sassy Southern heart.”

“Sad, isn’t he?”

Mitch suddenly cringed. “Gotta go. Reed boys at ten o’clock.”

“What did you do to them this time?”

“It’ll take too long to explain, but it involves a call to a lovely Long Island matchmaker named Madge who believes the Reed boys are looking for love. Shit.” Mitch took off running, and Ronnie Lee’s brothers were right behind him.

Sissy shook her head. “I don’t know what to do with that boy sometimes.” She scowled when she realized all her aunts were smirking at her. “What?”

The dinner turned out better than Sissy thought it would. First off, important, older shifters were put up on the long dais at the front of the room. Usually, that space was reserved for the bride and groom, but Jessie Ann had come up with some crap about the importance of elders and family and Sissy’s daddy got all puffed up because Jessie insisted he and Janie had to sit right in the center. In other words, they were the most important.

Then again, maybe they were the most important to Jessie Ann. She’d lost her parents when she was only fourteen, and Sissy’s parents had warmed to Jessie Ann right off.

Even more important, the seating worked to Sissy’s advantage. Instead of being trapped with her momma for an hour of feeding, Sissy thankfully sat at the table with the bride and groom, who kept the wedded-bliss cooing to a minimum. Mitch sat on her right, and Ronnie Lee sat on her left with her mate and Mitch’s half brother, Brendon. Desiree MacDermot-Llewellyn sat across from her with her mate and Smitty’s best friend, Mace. The rest of the table held Jessie Ann’s friends, Sabina, Phil, May, and Danny.

The massive room not only boasted enough tables for all the attendees, but it even had a dance floor right in the middle. Although Sissy doubted she’d do any dancing to some lame band or even worse, a lame DJ. But her steak was bloody and delicious and the company tolerable.