Freaked out, the full-human spun his stool right back around and faced the bar again. Smirking, Gwen moved into the hallway, and together they walked to the last door. Gwen reached for the doorknob, but Lock pushed her hand away and shook his head. He raised his fist and knocked. Two times. Pause. Two times. Pause.

Three times.

A minute passed and the door slowly opened. The seven-two glaring Scotsman stared down at Gwen, and Lock felt her press her body closer to his. Not that he blamed her. He could see her nostrils flare as she caught the scent of a bear-filled room. The grizzly raised his gaze and the scowl turned into an enormous grin.

“Lachlan, my boy!”

Lock grinned back. “Hi, Uncle Nevin.”

Gwen discreetly let out the breath she’d been holding. They were related. Thank Christ, they were related! For a minute there, she’d thought Lock had lost his ever-loving mind bringing her to a bear den. But the way his uncles descended on him, she realized Lock was greatly loved here.

“You’re looking fine, boy. Fine.”

“Thanks.” He grabbed Gwen’s hand and pulled her forward. Although she felt like running, she plastered on a fake smile instead. If she could handle his parents, she could handle his uncles.

“This is Gwen. Gwen, this is my Uncle Nevin, my Uncle Duff, my Uncle Hamish, and my Uncle Calum.”

“His Scottish uncles,” Calum said, bowing low from the waist. “The MacRyrie bears. The loving, caring side of his family. Not those rough brutish Russian bears, the Baranovas.”

“Don’t let Mom hear you talking crap about her family…again.”

Calum took Gwen’s hand and kissed the back of it. “And such a beauty you are, dear Gwen.”

Lock pushed his uncle aside. “Lay off.”

“I was greeting her properly.”

“Yeah. Right.”

Lock’s Uncle Duff moved behind Gwen and sniffed her neck. “Mmm. She smells like the sweetest honey.”

“That’s shampoo,” Lock said, moving on Duff. “And don’t crowd her.”

“Who’s crowding her?” Hamish, who seemed to be the youngest, asked. They all seemed to have held up well for men in their late fifties and early sixties. He sat on the round table in the middle of the room and added,

“We’re trying to get a better look at her, is all.”

“Where do you come from, sweet Gwyneth?”

“It’s Gwendolyn,” Lock corrected Calum. “And she’s from Philly.”

“Well we can’t hold that against her.”

Gwen laughed while Nevin rested his butt on the table, his arms crossed. “And who are your kin in Philly, dearest Gwendolyn?”

“The O’Neills.”

“A lioness? You seem too pretty to be a merelioness.”

“I’m half lioness, half tiger. A tigon, if you want to be technical.”

Calum raised a brow. “Ahhh. The delicious fruit of forbidden love.”

Gwen laughed harder and Lock pulled her against him. “All right, that’s enough. Leave her alone.”

“What’s wrong with you, boy?” Calum asked. “You’re not attached to this one, are you?”

“Attached enough to keep her away from you.”

“That’s because you have the sense of your dear mother,” Hamish laughed.

“And we’re not staying long. You said you wanted to see me, so I’m here. What’s up?”

The uncles exchanged glances and then Calum said, “Your father’s birthday is coming up in December.”

“Yes.”

“We thought we’d throw him a party this year.”

“No.”

Duff crossed his arms over his chest. “Why not?”

“After what happened last time?”

“That was twenty years ago!”

“And Mom has not forgotten.”

Apparently, it wasn’t just Lock that Gwen had this effect on. His uncles were falling over themselves to be accommodating. Wiping off a chair so she could sit down, getting her a clean glass for her beer, and offering her some of their honey-wheat pretzels to munch on.

What Lock found really interesting was the way she giggled and fluttered those eyelashes like some average female. He’d thought she must have banged her head at some point and lost her mind until she said,

“So what are you gentlemen doing with these cards?”

Nevin gathered the cards together and showed off his Vegas-learned shuffling skills. “Just a little five-card stud.”

“Oooh. Can I play? I’ve always wanted to play.”

“Gwen—”

She turned pleading, wide cat eyes at him. “Please, Lock? Can I?”

He was so stunned she was asking his permission to do anything, he could only manage to say, “Uh…”

“Thanks.”

She dropped a wad of cash big enough to choke a goat on the table. “Is this enough?”

Before Lock could blink, three of his uncles had grabbed chairs and quickly sat down.

Lock crouched next to her and whispered in her ear, “Where the hell did you get that cash from?”

“I don’t know. Some guy outside.” He’d be shocked if it was anybody but Gwen. “I didn’t like the way he glared at you.”

“So you took his cash?”

“It’s a skill.”

“Out of the way, boy.” Calum pushed him back. “We need to teach sweet little Gwen here how to play poker.”