“He’s in the shower,” she answered his unasked question.

“Do you want me to leave?”

“No. Just didn’t want you walking around the apartment calling out his name like some stray cub, thinking he’s ignoring you when he’s only in the shower.” She winked at him. “Figured it was best to tell ya up front.”

At her smile, he seemed to relax. She had no idea why he might have been uptight. She’d been nothing but polite to the man while he rolled on the floor trying to kill his own brother.

“Breakfast or lunch?”

“I know the clock says lunch, but I’m just getting up after my own shower. My stomach wants to be fed but I don’t see anything I have the energy or inclination to tussle with.”

“Um…can I make a suggestion?”

For a man whose own brother referred to him as “scumbag” he sure seemed awfully polite.

Stepping back from the fridge but keeping the door open with her butt, Ronnie gestured toward the cold storage. “Be my guest.”

Mitch crouched in front of the open refrigerator and dug around the back. Really, the damn thing was huge. Take out the shelves, you could comfortably fit a family of four in there.

“My brother usually has…ah…there it is.” He glanced at what he held in his hand. “Expiration date’s good, too. Here.” He handed her a medium tub of low-fat vanilla yogurt.

If she hadn’t been having wild sex with his brother all night, she might have kissed him. “Yes!” She grabbed a spoon, then leaped up onto the counter without using her hands. An old She-wolf trick. She crossed her legs at the ankles and opened the fresh yogurt. “How did you know?”

Mitch shrugged and closed the refrigerator door. “I used to date a She-wolf when I was sixteen.” He opened the fridge door again, grabbed a water, and reclosed it. “Went to her house for Thanksgiving dinner. At dessert, they had five kinds of pie, six cakes, and this enormous bowl of plain, low-fat vanilla yogurt.” He leaned at the far end of the counter, forcing her to turn a little to see him but keeping a healthy distance. “By the end of the evening, a few slices here and there of cake and pie were gone, but the yogurt bowl…completely cleaned out. When I asked her, she said wolves love yogurt.”

“Did you mock?”

“No. Then I wouldn’t have gotten laid.”

“This is very true.”

Ronnie ate her yogurt, her feet banging against the counter doors.

“Ya know,” she finally offered as she steadily worked her way through that tub of yogurt, “you seem awful polite for a lowlife.” She shrugged when he stared at her. “You wear that rebel without a clue motorcycle jacket, appear to shave only once or twice a week, got a coupleof interesting scars on your neck, but…”

“But what?”

She shrugged. “You bathed this morning. You use conditioner. What nails you do have are clean. And I don’t know many lowlifes who would have dug around in a fridge to get his hated brother’s lay-of-the-moment a yogurt without trying to get some pussy himself, and yet you are halfway across the room. Out of respect.”

He picked at the wrapper on his ridiculously overpriced water bottle and stared at her. Finally, he said, “I don’t hate my brother.”

“I know. Not sure Shaw does, though.”

“And that bothers you—why?”

“It doesn’t. Just passing on the information.”

Mitch smirked and looked so much like his brother when he did. “I think you like him.”

“Not at all. I often have sex with men I can’t stand.”

“I don’t mean that kind of like. I mean, you like him.”

Reaching the bottom of the yogurt tub, she joked, “You’re right, Mitchy. And would you pass him a note in study hall for me?”

He snorted. Then he froze, his gold eyes glued to the swinging kitchen door. Ronnie’s eyes narrowed, a female scent hitting her hard.

The door flew open and a tall, beautiful, and clearly feline female strutted in.

She stared right at Mitch. “Here to mooch off Brendon again?”

“I don’t need to mooch. I can just steal from his wallet.”

“And I’m sure you do.” Her nose crinkled. “Why do I keep smelling wet dog?” Gold eyes turned to Ronnie. “Oh. That must be you.”

Mitch straightened but Ronnie held her hand up to stop him. “It’s okay, Mitch.” She slid off the counter, turning to face the lioness who had to be Shaw’s sister. She looked exactly like him, only female. Sleek and elegant in designer jeans and sweater and designer boots, she still couldn’t hide the cold eyes of a predator. Or the rough edges of the less-than-wealthy upbringing Shaw had mentioned over late-night bowls of cereal.

“You’ll have to accept us eventually,” Ronnie said simply, her eyes downcast.

“I will?”

Ronnie smoothed her hand over her stomach. “Of course. Once I have our baby.”

The female went from fifteen feet away to two with one leap, coming at Ronnie just like she goaded her into doing. As soon as she landed, Ronnie slammed her hands against the female’s chest, forcing her back and right into Shaw’s arms as he walked into his kitchen.

He’d been having the best day, too. Got to sleep in, nice sore cock from great sex, and a sexy little She-wolf all to himself. But leave it to his own relatives to try and ruin everything.