Shelly Laurenston - The Mane Event

“Oh God. I gotta go shopping now.” She buried that beautiful face in her hands. “I hate holiday shopping.”

“You know what? I gotta go shopping too. We should go together.”

She started to drag her hand through her hair, then abruptly stopped. She shook her hand out and crossed her arms in front of her chest. “Have you always been this pushy?”

“I’ll buy you a hot chocolate.”

He watched her fight that amazing smile. “Go away, Mace.”

“You’re going to leave me to the tender mercies of these cruel New York streets? All alone? On Christmas? No family?” He sighed, giving her his best “sad look.” He’d perfected it over the years with quite a few sympathetic barhooks. “Missy doesn’t want me around for her big Christmas banquet tomorrow. She says I’ll embarrass her in front of all her friends.”

Dez damn near growled in anger. “You’re her brother. How could she do that to you?” Yes! He had her. At least…well…he did have her.

“Hey, hoss.” Bobby Ray Smith, also called Smitty by his closest friends and the entire United States Navy, grabbed a chair from one of the other desks, pulled it up next to his, and sat down. “They do have some beautiful women in this city.” Why, oh why, did he meet with Smitty first before coming here? Cause you’re a dumb ass, Llewellyn.

Smitty suddenly caught sight of Dez. And like the dog he, literally, was…“Well,” he stated with that slow easy grin that got him more pussy than either of them would ever be able to count. “Hello, darlin’.”

The two shook hands, and Mace had the overwhelming desire to rip Smitty’s arm from his socket.

Dez caught sight of the anchor tattoo on Smitty’s forearm. “Navy?”

“Yup. Got out a few months ago.” Smitty’s slow drawl seemed more annoying than usual. “And Mace got out yesterday. Huh, hoss?”

Mace nodded.

“Navy, Mace?” She actually sounded disappointed.

“Now darlin’, what’s wrong with the Navy?” Smitty still hadn’t let her hand go. Suddenly Mace hated his best friend.

“Nothing. Except it will never be the Marines.”

Dez pulled her hand away as the men glanced at each other.

“You were a Marine?”

Dez glared at him. “You don’t have to sound so shocked, Mace. And I wasn’t just a Marine. I was an MP, baby. Sergeant MacDermot when I discharged.”

Smitty gave that damn charming smile. “He was commander. I made lieutenant. We were SEALs together.” Normally, Mace would have no problem with Smitty dropping that bit of information. Amazing how much sex that little admission would get them. But he didn’t want the flea-bitten bastard making his moves on Dez.

“Wow.” Dez seemed less than interested. “That’s really impressive. Bet that line got you a lot of oral sex too, huh?”

Smitty blinked. “You think I’m lyin’?”

“No. Not at all.” Dez shrugged. “I just don’t care, uh…”

“Bobby Ray Smith. But you can call me Smitty.”

“Of course you’re Smitty. Because everybody in the military has a friend named Smitty.” The two smiled at each other. Nope, Mace didn’t like this one goddamn bit.

“So…” Dez glanced at Mace with one raised eyebrow. “Smitty, are you enjoying our fair city?”

“Oh yeah. You know, Mace is taking good care of me and my kin.”

“Kin?”

Uh-oh.

“Family.”

“Oh?” Another glance at Mace. “Your family is here. And do they get along with Mace too?”

Mace had to look at Smitty for that himself. He always sensed that most of the Pack barely tolerated him.

He should have known, though. Being Southern, Smitty would never say anything anyone would consider cruel in front of strangers.

“Oh yeah! My momma says Mace is her sixth son.”

“Really?”

“My sister’s with me too, and she loves her some Mace.”

“Does she now?” Dez turned to Mace. Boy, did she look annoyed. “You haven’t changed one bit, Llewellyn.”

He leaned back, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “I never said I had.”

“But you did lie to me?”

“No. Missy really doesn’t want me to come to her banquet. I simply don’t give a shit.”

“And if that happens to play on my sympathies, you conniving bastard?”

“I know what I want, Dez. You know how I am about that. Remember the Ring Dings?”

She pushed her hands through her hair. He kept frustrating her. Good. “We are not discussing the Ring Dings, Mace. Christ, we are too old for this. I’m too old for this.”

“So, say you’ll come out to dinner with me and then I’ll stop.”

“No.”

“I refuse to hear that.”

She turned to Smitty. “You tell him, Smitty. Tell him I said ‘no’.”

Smitty gazed at her. “You sure have some pretty eyes, darlin’.”

Dez looked startled, then she beamed. “You are as bad as he is.”

Mace realized in that second the two of them were having a “moment.” Well, that’s not acceptable.

“Jesus, Dez. What’s that?”

Dez, following where Mace pointed, turned to look behind her. While he had her temporarily distracted, he took his other hand, wrapped it around the back of Smitty’s neck, and slammed the man’s head into Dez’s desk.

When she snapped back around, Mace watched her innocently, Smitty gripped his forehead, and Dez’s partner began to hysterically laugh.

“What did you do?”

Mace blinked. “Nothing.”

Dez stretched her legs out on her couch and studied her painted toenails. That and waxing her brows were her only female indulgences. It was Christmastime, so her color of choice this week? A merry red. She smiled, wondering if Mace would like that color on her.

She shook her head. Mace Llewellyn. Back in her life after all these years. Persistent as ever too. Only now he was persistent about her as opposed to the Ring Dings. She wondered why. Why his sudden interest in her? They’d been friends throughout ninth grade. Very good friends. The move to Queens had been quite the ordeal, and when she’d finally gotten up the courage to see him…well, his sisters got to her first. They made it clear that with her Bronx accent and less-than-sparkling manners, she would never fit in with him or his family. In the end, she’d be nothing but an embarrassment for him.

Dez sighed and glanced at the television. Sirens from one of her favorite episode of Cops blared incessantly while a police dog took down a perp. The man kept moving, and the dog only bit down harder. If he stopped moving the dog would stop biting. Suddenly she knew how that perp felt. She kept moving and Mace kept biting down harder.

Damn. She kept doing that. Thinking about Mace Llewellyn. Why couldn’t she get the man out of her mind?

Because he reminded you what that hole between your legs is really for.

She shook her head. She didn’t have time for this or for him. Being a cop was her priority. Always had been. Always would be. Just ask her ex. And she wasn’t about to go through those conversations again. So Mace would have to back the hell off.

Yeah. Good luck with that.

A big, wet tongue slathered across her ear, and she turned her head just enough to get another lick right across her face.

“Yuck!” She pushed her dog’s giant paws off the couch, but for some reason that seemed to indicate he and his brother should join her on her large sectional. Suddenly she had a hundred-and-fifty-pound dog resting against her back, the other splayed across her lower legs.

“You two comfortable?” They both answered with a snort. When she’d gotten home, she’d put the two through their paces while she wore the bite sleeve. She loved working her dogs. It made a day of being a New York cop easier for some unknown reason. Maybe because she had an outlet for her stress and two amazingly well-trained and very protective dogs to show for it.