The coffeehouse door opened and Smitty walked out, heading right toward them. She hadn’t been this relieved to see the man since he dragged Bertha off her while she was pummeling Jess’s face.

Smitty glanced down at her, and she knew he’d immediately caught on to her rapidly growing anger. Taking her arms, he pulled them around his waist and pulled her in tight to his body. His jacket and body heat kept her warm; his embrace kept her from tearing out Sherman Landry’s throat.

“Everything all right out here?” Smitty asked.

“Yes,” she said out loud. Under her breath, she added, “Make him go away.”

“Leave it to me,” he muttered back. “Well,” he said clearly, for the entire street to hear, “we’re going to go home now and have some hot and dirty sex.”

Jess let out a startled gasp and tried to pull back, but Smitty held her tight against him.

“Yup,” he continued, “we’re gonna go have some nasty, dirty, whore sex.”

Even with her face buried in his—very nice smelling—chest, Jess could still sense when Smitty locked his sights on Sherman.

“And you’re not invited.”

“Jessica,” Sherman tried again, “maybe we should—”

“Son,” Smitty drawled, “don’t make me show you how much of a Smith I truly am.”

Sherman cleared his throat. “I’ll speak with you another time, Jessica.” She heard his footsteps heading back to the coffeehouse.

When Sherman opened the door, Smitty tossed out, “Just don’t call her when we’re having sex—which will be constantly!”

Jess waited long enough for Sherman to get inside before she yanked away from Smitty and followed up with a solid fist to his chest. The pain that radiated up her arm afterward, she ignored.

“What is wrong with you?”

“Nothin’,” he said, looking confused. “Why?”

Smitty wasn’t sure what he enjoyed more. Torturing that scrawny dog—and he had tortured him. The poor guy didn’t know whether to be horrified or jealous of Smitty and Jessie going at it. Or had his pleasure come from torturing Jessie Ann? All that was fun, but what he enjoyed the most was having Jessie Ann plastered up against him. She nuzzled real nice, even when she didn’t mean to.

At the moment, however, she looked real cranky.

“I was helping like you asked.”

“You were being a dick,” she said while looking down at the giant watch on her wrist. “And you were enjoying every damn second of being a—oh, my God! I’ve gotta go.”

She ran to the corner and hailed a cab, but before she stepped inside, she ran back over to him.

“One other thing.”

“Yeah?”

She slid her hand under his jacketand twisted his nipple until his eyes watered.

“Touch my tits again without permission and I’ll rip this off.” She glanced at her watch again. “Ach! Now I really do have to go.”

Jessie turned and ran back toward the waiting cab. Sure, Smitty could have let her go, but to be honest, he’d never been so damn entertained by a woman before. “So how do I get permission?”

She spun around, jumping back when she realized he stood right behind her. “Stop sneaking up on me! And you don’t get permission.”

“Why not? You said I was pretty.”

“Look, Smitty, while I appreciate your doglike persistence, you need to know that nothing you do or say will change my mind about this. You’re part of my past, and these days I’m all about my future. I don’t have time or room in my life for you and your casual chats. Understand?”

“Sure.”

“Good.”

“’Cause I always love a challenge.”

He’d caught her with that when she was halfway in the cab. With one foot in and the other still braced against the curb, she stared at him. “What challenge?”

“You’re challenging me to get you back into my life.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Your exact words were ‘I challenge you, Bobby Ray Smith, to get me back into your life.’”

“I never said that.”

“That’s what I heard.” The beauty of wolf hearing. You heard only what you wanted to, made up what was never said but should have been, and the rest meant little or nothing.

“Is there something wrong with you? Mentally?”

“Darlin’, you met my family. You’ve gotta be more specific than that.”

“That’s it. I’m leaving. I can’t have this conversation with you. I can’t—”

He saw it immediately. The way her entire body tensed, her eyes focusing across the busy city street, locking on something in the distance. She went from exasperated to on point in less than five seconds.

“What’s wrong, Jessie?” He followed her line of sight but didn’t see anything that stuck out to him.

“Nothing,” she said, her eyes still staring across the street. “I need to go.” She went up on her toes and absently kissed him on his cheek. He’d bet cash she wouldn’t even remember she did it.

She stepped into her cab and closed the door. She didn’t look back at him, didn’t acknowledge him in any way. That wasn’t like her. Even if it was to give him the finger, she’d do or say something before driving off.

Smitty turned and stared at the spot Jessie’d been staring at. But he still saw nothing that made him feel tense or worried.