The Mane Attraction (28 page)

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Authors: Shelly Laurenston

BOOK: The Mane Attraction
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“Wait.” He waited until Sissy looked at him. “Come here.”
She walked over to him.
“Closer.”
She smiled—a real one—and stepped closer.
“Now kiss me.”
“Out here? In front of everybody?”
“Yeah. Out here. In front of everybody.”
“Well, when you get all demanding and cranky, how can I resist?” She went up on her toes, her arms sliding around his neck. She kissed him slow and easy. Mitch got lost in that kiss, his arms wrapping around her waist and pulling her tight against his body. He had no idea how long they were standing there, but suddenly, Ronnie had Sissy’s arm and was pulling her away.
“Lord, y’all. Get a room, why don’t you?”
“Can’t very well do that with you dragging me away!” Sissy looked over her shoulder at Mitch and winked.
As the two strutted down the street, laughing and pushing each other around like pups—Ronnie in tiny running shorts and a cutoff T-shirt and Sissy in her denim cutoffs and tight tank top—Mitch and Bren watched them.
And both brothers growled.
Chapter 23
W
ith his brother off taking a nap and Sissy shopping, Mitch had two hours before practice, and that was simply too much time to sit around and think. So he went in search of food.
When he walked into the pie shop, he was surprised at how welcoming the aunts were. They kind of treated him like he was family, and he enjoyed it.
“Sit here, baby-boy.” Francine pulled out a chair and patted it with her hand. He smiled and sat down at the table.
“My mom calls me that sometimes.”
“I met her at the wedding, right?” When Mitch nodded, Francine smiled. “I liked her. My kind of woman. Not snooty like some of your kind can be. Now what kind of pie you want today, darlin’?”
“The lemon meringue was so good.”
“Lemon meringue it is.”
It was Janette who brought the pie. And not a slice either. The entire enormous thing, putting it in front of him with a pie cutter, fork, and plate. She cut the first slice for him, and Darla poured him a glass of milk from the gallon jug she’d placed on the table.
When he started eating, the four sisters sat down and watched him. It was mid-afternoon, and the place was deserted. But that wouldn’t last. They got their busiest at the end of the day when people were getting desserts to go with their meals.
“So what’s wrong, darlin’?” Francine asked, her elbow propped on the table, her chin resting in her palm. She watched him with warm, friendly eyes.
“Nothing. Just a lot on my mind.”
“Any of that have to do with our Sissy?”
Mitch didn’t see a point in lying. “Yeah. It does.”
“You in love with her?”
Ducking his head, Mitch focused on his food. “Some might say.”
“Is she in love with you?”
“God,” Mitch muttered, reaching toward the pie to cut another slice, “I hope not.”
And like that, the pie was pulled away. “What do ya mean, you hope not? You trying to tell us our Sissy isn’t good enough for you?”
Mitch let out an annoyed sigh. “Of course I’m not telling you that. If I had my way, I’d give Sissy anything she wanted. Do you think I want to end my time with her? There are so many things I want to do with her, but that’s just not possible.”
“If you could do anything with Sissy,” Janette asked, “what would it be? And keep it clean.”
Mitch smiled. “Anything? I’d take her on a date. We’ve never been on a date.”
“Mitchell, darlin’, I don’t understand what the problem is.” Francine huffed a little. “This whole thing with you and these ... what did you call them the other day?”
“Scumbags.”
“Yes. These scumbags. That can’t go on forever. They’ll catch whoever tried to hurt you.”
“It won’t make a difference, Miss Francine. When this is all over—when I leave here—I’ll be going into Witness Protection.”
Francine sat up straight. “You’re doing what?”
“I really thought you knew. I thought I told you.” Mitch rested his elbows on the table. “Maybe I didn’t. I don’t know anymore. There’s so much going on right now. Someone’s trying to kill me, I’m in love with your niece, the game is coming up ...”
A big slice of pie was pushed in front of him and another glass of milk.
Francine reached over and petted his cheek. “I want you to tell us everything, darlin’.”
 
 
Sissy ignored Dee’s laughter as she showed off her new leather jacket. “Look, heifer, fringe will never be out of style.”
She yanked the jacket off, unceremoniously shoved it back into the bag, and snatched a beer out of Ronnie’s hand.
Dee glanced at Sissy as she sat down next to her on the bleachers. “Rumor is,” her cousin murmured beside her, “whoever tried to kill Mitch may be heading this way.”
“May be. No one knows for sure. But the sheriff’s department and the Elders are on alert.” Sissy looked at her cousin and blinked.
“What?”
Sissy thought for a moment and then realized it couldn’t hurt to ask, “You know, they say it’s a lioness who did this.”
“Yeah? And?”
“Dez thinks she’s military.”
Dee’s gaze moved across the field, and she asked, “Is that right? And what makes her think that?”
“The shot this female made, nailing Mitch from where she did ... she had to be well-trained. But other than her scent, she’s left nothing. No hair, no fibers—nothing that our kind can usually find when no one else can.”
Sissy knew she was touching on a sensitive subject here. She hadn’t asked her cousin about what she’d done for the military because she already kind of knew from Bobby Ray. Dee’s unit handled full-humans who knew of their kind and made hunting them a sport. They were usually rich, secretive, and extremely dangerous. Not only to those they hunted, but to Sissy’s kind in general. And Dee hunted the hunters. She was very good at what she did, but the last time Sissy had seen her, she could tell the whole thing had been wearing on her cousin.
Really ... there was only so long a body could do that job and keep her sanity.
Dee nodded. “I’ll make some calls to old friends.”
“Thanks.”
Her cousin grunted as Travis called a break and sent them off the field. Mitch came right over to her, but before Sissy could stand up and drag him away to her chosen spot, he crouched in front of her, pulling off his helmet.
“Hey.”
“Hey.” She smiled. “Look, I found a place—”
“I was thinking we should go on a date tonight.”
Sissy stopped talking abruptly, her words tumbling to a halt. “Uh ... what?”
“A date. You and me. It’ll be nice.”
“Nice?” And Sissy couldn’t keep the disgust out of her voice. “I don’t do nice.”
“Would it kill you to try?”
“Possibly.”
Mitch grinned. “I’ll pick you up at your parents’ house. We’ll go out to dinner, so dress nice.”
“I don’t dress nice.”
“Start.” He kissed her cheek and headed back to the other players and Gatorade.
“Did he just ask me on a date?”
Ronnie nodded. “Sounds like it.”
“Well, what’s going on?”
“Why are you asking me? I was with you until practice started.”
“Dee-Ann?” But Dee had done her ghost thing and was nowhere in sight. Sissy would have to find out how she did that.
“Are you gonna go?” Ronnie asked, taking Sissy’s beer and gulping down half of it.
“I guess. I mean ... a date? Me?”
“We better leave now then. Who knows what we’ll have to put together to get you dressed proper.”
 
 
Mitch drank the bottled water his brother handed him.
“Where’s Sissy and Ronnie going?” Bren asked, frowning.
“Home, I guess. I’m taking Sissy on a date.”
It was like the world stopped. All the players gaped at him. Even Sissy’s brothers. Which seemed odd since everyone seemed to know he and Sissy were fucking.
“What?”
“You’re taking Sissy out on a date?”
“Yeah.” Mitch shrugged at Travis’s question. “So?”
“To be honest, I don’t think she’s ever been on a date.”
“And it’s not like you have to wine and dine her to get what you want,” Jackie said laughingly ... until Mitch slammed his helmet into Jackie’s face. Jackie went down crying, holding his nose, too.
“Anyone else got anything to say?” Mitch asked lightly. The team shook their heads. “All right then. I say we get back to practice since I have to get ready for my date.”
Sissy walked out of the shower and wrapped a towel around herself. She quickly combed her hair and stepped into the hallway.
“Okay, Ronnie, let’s ...” She stared down the length of the hall. Her aunts were at the other end, and they were waiting. . . for her.
“Wha ... what are you guys doing here? Where’s Ronnie?”
“That nice young man wants to take you out for a nice meal,” Francine explained calmly. “And we wanted to make sure you didn’t walk out the door looking like the local ho.”
Sissy blinked. Then she tried to make a run for it.
 
 
Mitch stepped out of Ronnie’s car and cracked his neck, his gaze focused on the house. It kind of amazed him how this all had come about. Sitting in the pie shop, eating and talking to Sissy’s aunts, telling them things he’d never told anyone—not even Sissy. He blamed the pie. The more they fed him those delicious pies, the more he talked. But they were so sweet and understanding. It really made him feel better.
And when they had sent him off, they told him, “Make sure to ask Sissy out on a date. She deserves it.” And she did, too.
Mitch reached back into the car and pulled out the bouquet of red roses. He knew it was breaking Sissy’s boundaries, but she’d have to get over it. You simply didn’t go to pick up a woman for a first date empty-handed. His mother would have his ass.
Taking a deep breath, Mitch walked up the porch stairs and to the front door. He raised his hand to knock, but he heard glass breaking and cursing.
“Sissy?” he said through the door.
And like that, all the noise coming from inside the house stopped.
“Sissy?” Mitch said again and reached for the doorknob.
“Hold on a minute.” That sounded like one of her aunts. Darla maybe?
Leaning close, Mitch could hear whispers and what sounded like a scuffle.
Then he heard Sissy say, “No, no, no!”
Mitch stood back to kick the door in when it opened on its own and Sissy’s aunts shoved her out onto the porch. Sissy spun around to get back inside, but they slammed the door in her face and locked it.
Taking another step back and looking Sissy over, Mitch said, “Sissy?” Slowly, she turned around, and he smiled. “God, it
is
you.”
“Not a word, Mitchell Shaw. Not. One. Word.”
“You look—”
“What? I look what?”
Mitch shrugged. “Adorable.”
Sissy’s eyes narrowed. “
You bastard
,” she hissed before she stormed off toward the car.
“Wait.”
“No!”
He caught her hand on the car door before she could yank it open. “Look, don’t be mad. I’ve just never seen you”—Mitch dragged his gaze from her head to her feet—“in a sundress before.”
A
white
sundress no less, with tiny blue polka dots, blue sandals with straps and three-inch heels, and—the killer—a matching blue headband to hold her hair back.
She looked as far from the Sissy Mae Smith he knew as humanly possible.
“You never have before, and you never will again. Now, get me out of here before I start kill—” Sissy turned back to him, but her body froze when she caught sight of the flowers in his hand. “What are those?”
“Flowers. For you.”
Sissy stomped her foot and made that damn outline of a box again with her forefingers. “Boundaries,” she hissed.
Imitating the box outline with his own fingers, Mitch snapped back, “Date. Now get in the friggin’ car.”
She snatched the flowers out of his hand and got into the passenger side of the car. Chuckling, Mitch walked around the vehicle and got into the driver’s side.
Once inside, he smiled and said, “I do have to admit, you look pretty hot in that I-was-a-thirty-year-old virgin outfit.”
“Shut up.”
“All I wanna do is dirty you up with my love nectar.”
Sissy finally smiled. “Stop calling it that!”
 
 
Sissy didn’t know what was more awkward. The shoes, which were tragically a size too small? The sun dress with the tiny little ties that kept untying? The motherfucking headband?

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