“Buckle up,” Sissy told him.

He almost snorted again. What? Did she think she could scare him by going eighty or something? One of the reasons he’d become a cop was because he’d become so friendly with the ones who’d pulled him over on a regular basis. Finally, one told him he wouldn’t take him in for speeding—again—if he’d stop by during the high school’s job fair that week. It seemed like a real easy way out of a ticket or jail time, so he went. And shortly after Mitch turned twenty, he was a cop.

To humor her, Mitch buckled himself into the seat, chuckling to himself when he realized they had the kind of safety harness the NASCAR racers used in their cars.

“Locked in?”

“Yup.” He grinned at her. “Go for it.”

Sissy smiled back at him. “If you say so.”

Mitch wasn’t sure, but he thought he heard Dee-Ann grunt something—the woman was not a big talker—before Sissy Mae turned over the motor and Mitch’s desire to purr got even worse. Nothing sounded sweeter than a souped-up engine.

Slowly, Sissy pulled away from the curb. She glanced down both sides of the street and made a U-turn.

Sitting in the middle of the street, the motor rumbling, Sissy stared at him, and Mitch stared right back. Eventually, when the staring went on past what even shifters would consider normal, he grinned. The one he used when he really wanted to annoy her. He’d gotten more things thrown at his head using that smile. This time, however, Sissy only smiled back. Even Mitch had to admit she had a killer grin. Kind of like her brother’s, but Sissy’s did stuff to him Smitty’s damn sure never could.

“Hold on,” she murmured, and he briefly wondered if she ever used that particular tone of voice in bed.

Mitch snorted, trying to stop where his thoughts were headed—again. “Yeah, yeah. Show me what ya got, sweet—Mother of God Almighty!”

Sissy never knew Mitch had such a colorful vocabulary until she shifted her old Camaro into gear and hit the gas.

When she took those tight turns on Deer Road doing about ninety, he called her all sorts of names her daddy would slap him upside the head for. When she played chicken with a couple of her cousins—at least, she was pretty sure they were her cousins—in that pickup truck, he slammed his hands down against the dashboard and gritted his teeth. When she was doing about a hundred and thirty on Duckbill Drive, she might have actually heard some rather violent roaring and a whimper or two. But when she hit one hundred and sixty-four and took that turn on Water-mans Way, she knew she’d have to replace the dashboard for Dee. Those claw marks would do nothing but devalue the vehicle.

With gravel and dirt flying, she spun into the store parking spot. A grocery store that catered to their kind safely ensconced between canine, cat, and hyena territory. The simply named Mega Store was one of the few local “safe zones” where different breeds could mingle comfortably.

Sissy cutoff the engine and tossed the keys to her cousin sitting quietly in the backseat. “Man, that felt good. You just can’t do that sort of thing in New York.” She patted Mitch’s knee, delighting in the way his entire body jerked away from her. “Come on, Mitchy. Let’s get some supplies to handle that lion-sized hunger.”

Biting her lip and enjoying her life way more than she really should, Sissy got out of the car and headed toward the big glass doors of the store.

When she realized Mitch Shaw wouldn’t be moving anytime soon, Dee-Ann Smith moved to the other side of the backseat and got out of the driver’s side of the car. Leaning down, she looked in and frowned a bit when she saw how pale the big cat had gotten since she’d first met him.

Pale and a little green.

“There’s a quiet little spot behind the garden outlet over there. If you need a few minutes.”

Without looking at her, Mitch nodded his head. “Thank you.”

“Sure.” She stood and closed the car door, careful not to slam it shut since she really didn’t want the man unloading his cookies inside her vehicle.

Dee-Ann caught up with Sissy right inside the store. She had tears in her eyes, and Dee knew she’d been laughing at poor Mitch.

“You are mean.”

“He asked for it!”

“Right now, that poor boy is yakking up his cookies behind the garden center and you—”

“Ooh! Give me your phone. I wanna take a picture.” She tried to grab for it, but Dee caught her arm and yanked her back.

“I’m not in the mood to tussle.”

“You don’t know how to have any fun.”

Dee didn’t even bother arguing. She knew her cousin to be amazingly oblivious and clueless about many things. She could be selfish, slightly obsessive, and a shitstarter of the highest order. But overall, Sissy was a good person, and Dee had been real sorry to see that her cousin wasn’t Alpha Female of Smithtown. Of course, Dee hadn’t known Sissy had moved to New York for good until she’d gotten home. Her life the last five years hadn’t offered much opportunity to get regular updates on her kin.

And Sissy had been right. Dee didn’t know how to have any fun. Not anymore. Her life the past few years had not been fun, and she had the beginnings of an ulcer to prove it. But she knew that Sissy had been somewhat deceptive when she told Mitch Dee had been “overseas.” To Mitch, that probably meant Dee had been fighting in Iraq like the rest of the Marines she’d trained with. But that would be wrong. She’d been sent off to do other things and had never even been to any Arab country, much less fought in one. When she’d been honorably discharged from duty, she figured coming back to Tennessee would be the best thing for her. But except for her joy at seeing her parents and the territory she loved to run and hunt on, she was already getting fed up.