“No, ma’am,” the three brothers muttered while Bubba turned away, but not before she could see his smile.

“That’s good. I don’t think my daddy and brothers would appreciate that particular characterization of me.”

Frankie looked up at her. “Character-what?”

Good Lord. These wolves are the feared Smith boys?

Because it seemed only Eggie and Bubba actually got the brains and the brawn. “Why don’t y’all clean those bowls while I make ya some pancakes and bacon.”

“Yes’m.”

Darla watched them get up and walk out of the room. She stepped beside Bubba and he put his arm around her shoulders. He was a much friendlier wolf when his brothers weren’t around to witness it.

“If my sisters were so dang worried about me,” Darla wanted to know, “why didn’t they just call? I would have answered.”

“Eggie ain’t got no phone. He don’t like ’em.”

“Oh?” She’d never noticed, but she’d been . . . distracted. “Why not?”

“We don’t know. And none of us are brave enough to ask him.”

He winked at her and Darla asked, “You going to make an honest mate of my sister, Bubba Ray?”

“She won’t let me. Your sister is mean, Darla Mae.”

“Yeah,” she admitted, “but I’m sure that’s what you love about her.”

Eggie walked into his kitchen and found his brothers eating his food, which his She-wolf had fixed for them. Something he found unacceptable.

“Breakfast is ready,” Darla said to him with that smile.

“Do you have any food left?” he growled, glowering down at his brothers. As usual, only Bubba held his gaze, the big-headed bastard smirking a little. The others went right back to their food, shoveling it in like they expected lion males to come out of the woods and steal it at any second.

Darla put his food down and tapped his chair.

“Did you eat?” he asked once he stood in front of her.

“I did. I just need to clean the kitchen and then we can go.”

“No. Go get your stuff together. My brothers will clean the kitchen.”

“I’m not cleaning your—” Nicky Ray began, but Eggie barked and snarled at his brother until the bastard lowered his head and went back to eating.

“We’ll take care of it,” Bubba said. “You go on, Darla. Have yourself a lovely day.”

“Y’all are just so sweet.” She stroked Eggie’s hand with the tips of her fingers. “I won’t be long,” she murmured.

“Take your time.”

He waited until Darla had gone upstairs before he focused on his idiot kin, and made everything clear in terms they could easily understand.

“I could skinya, have you deboned, and buried in less than an hour. It’s in the trainin’. So don’t y’all cross me when it comes to Darla Mae.”

The two eldest hunkered down more over their food, the youngest nearly choked on his pancake, but Bubba Ray leaned back in his chair and noted, “I guess this means you love her.”

But Eggie wasn’t about to get into discussing any of that with his kin. “Just don’t get in my way, and I won’t have to kill any of ya. I hate upsettin’ Momma and all.”

CHAPTER TEN

Since Eggie didn’t have a phone at his house, they’d called from the road. Eggie didn’t know who Darla had called, but whoever it was, they’d told her exactly where to find that outdoor concert. It was near the Smoky Mountains at a big park, and was an event run by Darla’s friends. Friends Eggie didn’t know, but he didn’t really care. Because in the end, the music had turned out not to be bad at all, Darla was happy, and it was the perfect place to meet with his team.

Eggie had been working with the team for three years now. McMartin was their team leader; Taschen a jackal with excellent bomb-making skills; Lloyd a leopard who could blend in anywhere and was amazing at recon; and Eggie, who was really good at killing stuff.

When Eggie had gone on vacation, so had Taschen and Lloyd, but McMartin had called his teammates back in to help them figure out what had happened on Smith territory. True, as Marines, they weren’t supposed to do this kind of work on American soil but this was personal and they were helping out a fellow Marine.

While the roadies and stage crew were setting up for the next band, Eggie took Darla’s hand and led her away from the stage.

As they walked, Darla said, “Stop glaring at everyone, Eggie Ray.”

“I’m not. I’m only glaring at the men staring at your legs.” She had on denim cutoffs, a tight Jimi Hendrix shirt, and no shoes. Her long hair was loose around her shoulders and she looked as happy and comfortable as any woman could. But Eggie could see what he was guessing Darla couldn’t. The type of people who had come to this concert. Some of them were just average good ol’ local boys who’d only be a problem if they drank too much ’shine in this heat, some out-of-towners looking for a good time . . . and some others. It was the “others” that Eggie kept his eyes on.

Darla leaned into Eggie, her fingers intertwined with his. Unlike her sisters, whom Eggie had watched off and on over the past few years with his brothers, Darla was openly affectionate. She held his hand, put her arm around his waist, hugged if she felt in the mood. And, to Eggie’s great surprise, he liked it. He liked that she not only felt comfortable touching him whenever she wanted, but that she seemed proud to be with him. Proud to claim him as her own.