The Mane Squeeze (Pride #4)

by Shelly Laurenston

“Because we both know what I would have done if they’d made a move on me, don’t we, Jersey bear?” Uh…yeah, yeah. Sure. Whatever. The bear in him could care less about all that…he only knew he wanted the pretty kitty. He wanted to pick her up and carry her back to the closest river he could find and offer her fresh salmon, honeycombs with desperate bees still clinging to them, and never-ending sex. Yeah. Sex. Lots and lots of sex.

Attacking someone without warning for something they did weeks before? Check. Ready to turn a simple breed dispute into something far uglier with the razor blade she kept on her at all times? Check. Using blood as a weapon of rudeness? Check. Threatening death? Check. Attacking a helpful stranger or friend? Check. Kissing a helpful stranger or friend without warning or permission? Check. Yeah, it only took Gwen six weeks to become her mother.

Raging now, and roaring, Mitch got back up and came at Lock again. Again, Lock slapped the big cat down. Even worse, Lock still wasn’t upset. He was laughing. Not mocking laughter, either, which she knew well from when Mitch and her uncles had done it to others. More like entertained chuckles as if he’d found a really great toy.

Lock grinned at Gwen. “He’s fun,” he said, reaching out and cuffing Mitch without even looking at him. “He just keeps trying to get back up.” Bam! “It’s great.” Bam! “Like ‘The Little Lion Who Could.’” Bam!

“I’m dying. Help me,” her brother whined. “What?” she demanded, glaring at him over the back of the couch. “What are you whining about now?”

“Hospital. Need hospital.” Gwen snorted. “You’re not even bleeding.” “Internal. Bleeding inside. Slowly dying.”

While the couple and Gwen watched her in mute horror, Blayne grabbed a flashlight and took another look inside the wall. “Hey!” she called out cheerfully. “A nest!” That’s when the couple and Gwen took off running.

His mother tapped Lock’s shoulder. “Son, remember when I taught you how to give the smaller, weaker ones the illusion they’re dragging you places? This is one of those times.”

She held her nails up, making his skin itch to feel her hands on him. “But tonight they’re playing against the Islanders. It’s all about team loyalty.”

Lock took a moment to luxuriate in the wonder that was Mr. Mittens. Because, holy hell, he adored this woman! “I see.”

to push him off, her arms were wrapping around his shoulders,

When she knew she had her voice back, she asked, “So I’m your girlfriend now?” “Yup. We’re going to attempt what’s known in the nonintellectual world as a rel-a-tion-ship.” He sounded the word out and Gwen struggled not to laugh. “That was a little tricky,” she accused. “Asking me at that particular moment.”

“I won’t. Besides, you make me goofy-happy.” Gwen leaned her head back so she could see his face. “Goofy-happy?” “Yeah. When you can’t stop smiling? That’s what you do to me, Mr. Mittens. I figure feeling goofy-happy is completely worth the pissing-off risk.”

“I’m taking a shower and then we’re going out to eat.” “Like boyfriend and girlfriend?” he asked, making sure to look particularly eager. “What are you? Twelve?” “Perhaps in an alternate universe where bears rule.”

“You show Jess her new…uh…throne.” Lock glanced at the woman in his arms. She was no longer sobbing, but was now smiling and giving her best Queen Elizabeth wave to her nonexistent “people.” “I,” she somberly intoned, not to Lock but her invisible “people,” “as your ruler and sovereign, do thank you for this lovely throne.” She motioned to the chair. “You may now place me in my throne.” “You have got to be kidding me, Jessica.” “Place me!”

“How little I care,” Mitch said dryly. He pointed at his face. “This is my ‘How little I care’ face. Can you see that?” “Really?” Gwen asked, just as dryly. “’Cause this is my ‘Beat the shit outta my brother’ face. Do you like this face? Do you wanna see what I can do with this face?”

“That’s right. I am the Lord High God Ruler to your Alpha Female. And the sooner you learn that, and bow down to my greatness, the sooner this relationship is running like a well-oiled machine.” “You’ve lost your ever-lovin’ mind!” Sissy shouted out, laughing.

“It’s true! And do you know why it’s true? Because I am a lion male. Ruler over all I survey. Tell her, Gwenie…Gwenie?”

Blayne nodded. “I am so serious. Word is it’s so bad that someone they call Uncle Eggie is, and I’m quoting Smitty here, ‘Fixin’ to come on up here and wipe the land clean as if the Lord himself had decided Staten Island was Sodom and Gomorrah.’”

“Right. And the Kuznetsovs, Smiths, O’Neills, and McNellys have all agreed to let all bad blood end here…if you’re in.”

Blayne gave Gwen her biggest grin and Gwen’s confusion quickly turned into righteous anger. “Oh, come on!”

Blayne said, “You and only you, Gwen O’Neill, can p...