That was easy. “Eighty-five thousand!”

“Great.”

Sissy stood, even though she got the feeling Mitch wanted nothing more than to stretch her out on the ground or even better, put her in an ambulance. But she kept her arm around his shoulder so he could hold her up. She glanced down at the ground and the inert form of her brother. “What happened to Travis?”

Mitch winced. “I hit him with the door after I tore it off. It was a total accident.”

“Marry me,” she spouted before she could stop herself.

But Mitch only grinned and said, “You say this now when you’re not in your right mind. Then you’ll yell at me when I take advantage of you.”

Sissy started to laugh, but someone punched her in the head from behind. If Mitch hadn’t had his arm around her, she would have gone headfirst back into the car.

“You cheating heifer!”

Sissy snorted. “I didn’t cheat, you blind bitch. Although I could have. But the wonder of me is that I don’t need to cheat to win against your lazy cat ass!”

Paula Jo reached for Sissy, but Dee pushed past her and swung her helmet wide, bashing the right side of Paula’s face. And that’s when it turned ugly—because the aunts got involved.

Really, there was nothing quite like watching late middle-aged women go at it. Sissy tried to pull her aunts apart, but this involved some long held grudges. Plus, she had to deal with Paula Jo and her sisters taking on Dee and Ronnie. And it didn’t help that she was still seeing at least three of everything. But anytime she stumbled, anytime she felt like she might drop, strong hands firmly held her. And Mitch never left her side.

Finally, the bears got bored, and their deputies broke it up, sending everybody back to their respective territories. Mitch tossed her over his shoulder and carried her back to her car. He dumped her in the back seat. “Hospital?”

Sissy laughed. “Not on your life. We got a party to get to, darlin’.”

Mitch sighed and got into the driver’s seat. “Somehow I knew you’d say that.”

Ronnie Lee danced around Sissy with a bottle of Mexican beer in one hand and a cast on the other. Yeah, she’d busted her wrist with that last hit from Paula Jo’s car, but that only made this win even cooler because she’d done it all with a friggin’ fractured wrist!

How cool am I?

Of course, Shaw was still way pissed at her. “You should have told me,” he’d snarled. “I have a right to know when you’re being an idiot.”

It was sweet in a Cro-Magnon kind of way. But there was no way she would have missed this race. Besides, she loved racing with Sissy and Dee. They kicked major ass together.

Sissy had managed to keep from breaking anything, but her face had gottenbruised up pretty bad from when her car flipped. Still, she didn’t seem to care as she rocked out to AC/DC with the rest of the Smith Pack at the local Smithtown bar.

But what really bothered Ronnie was Mitch. Not because Mitch had said or done anything to concern her. But because he hadn’t said or done anything. Even now, he sat at a table with Brendon, one leg up on the table, a bottle of Bud in his hand. He said nothing but kept a vigilant eye on Sissy. And Ronnie didn’t think Sissy had any clue.

She didn’t see it, did she?

Mitch was or had already fallen in love with Sissy. A male didn’t get that look on his face unless it had suddenly hit him that with one or two more rollovers, Sissy could have broken her neck. True, shifters were amazingly strong and could bounce back from illnesses and damaged organs that others couldn’t, but they weren’t indestructible. Of course, that’s what made the race that much more fun.

But it was hitting him, wasn’t it? Hitting him that one wrong move, and he could have lost Sissy forever.

And dumb bitch that she was, Sissy was completely oblivious!

“Maybe you should get Mitch home.”

Sissy laughed. “Why? Will his mom worry if he’s not home by curfew?”

Ronnie bared a fang, and Sissy grinned as the music went from AC/DC to Charlie Daniels, which got the whole crowd woo-hooing.

“I’m just saying he doesn’t look like he’s having any fun.” She leaned in closer. “And I think you worried him.”

“He shouldn’t be worried.”

“Why not?”

“Because people with boundaries don’t worry about each other.” Sissy shimmied her ass to the ground before shimmying back up. “His only concern should be whether I’ll be having sex later tonight…and stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

Sissy raised an eyebrow, and Ronnie waved her off. “Okay. Okay.” When Sissy turned around, her arms in the air, Ronnie added, “But you’re an idiot.”

Turning back around, Sissy honestly asked, “What’cha say?”

Ronnie shrugged. “Nothin’.”

The celebration party had been great, the food spectacular, the music and beer fabulous. To be honest, it was one of the better parties Sissy had experienced in a long time, and what amazed her was that not once had she and her brothers argued.

Although as her muscles began to ache on the way home, Sissy realized she might not be doing any more races. It was time for the “young ’uns” to take over. Hell, she’d started at sixteen—why should her nieces and nephews be any different?

Besides, to her horror, she was simply getting too old for this shit.