“I am! Cherry says I’m doing so much better since I’ve been training with you. Everybody’s really happy.

Thanks so much, Gwenie.”

“Anytime, Blayne. You know that.”

“Well…since you mention it—”

“I’m not joining the team, Blayne,” Gwen cut in, knowing exactly where this conversation was headed.

“But they like you so much.”

Lock sat down in the big king chair across from the couch. He wore boxers and was eating honey from a jar with a spoon.

“That’s really sweet, but—”

“Won’t you even consider it?”

“No.”

Gwen glanced over at Lock, watched him trying to shake the spoon off his right hand. When that didn’t work, he used his left to pull it off and then tried to shake it off that one. Since he seemed more entertained than frustrated she didn’t bother saying anything.

“Why not?” Blayne asked.

“I’m not trying to be a bitch.”

“I know.”

“I just…I can’t.”

“Okay. I understand. But that doesn’t mean you can’t be a teammate in spirit!”

Only Blayne. “Okay, fine. I’ll be a teammate in spirit.”

“Yay!”

Lock used his mouth to pull the spoon off his hand, then realized that both hands were too sticky from honey to have anywhere to put it. He stared at his hands for several seconds, shrugged, and then flicked the spoon in the air, catching it with his mouth when it came back down.

“Christ,” Gwen murmured, “he’s a goofball.”

“Huh?”

Focusing on the couch cushion, Gwen said to Blayne, “Nothing.”

“Okay.” Blayne paused for a moment and then asked, “So…are you at the hotel?”

Blayne Thorpe. Obvious Girl. “No, Blayne.”

“Where are ya then?”

“I’m hanging up, Blayne.”

“Gwen—”

“Blayne, we’re not going down this road.”

“Just tell me this…are you happy?”

“You mean at this second?”

“Yeah, Miss Specific. At this second.”

Lock was now staring at his toes while using the sticky spoon to eat more honey. In another two minutes he’d be playing with those toes using his sticky fingers.

“Yeah,” she replied honestly to Blayne. “I am.”

Gwen disconnected the call and demanded, “I thought you were going to get food?”

Licking the spoon, Lock admitted, “My mind wandered.”

And laughing, Gwen buried her face in the couch.

Blayne put down her phone, stared intently across the table and said, “My nefarious plan is almost complete. Andsoon, everything I could imagine will come to fruition.”

Her father glanced at her over the top of his reading glasses. “Must you always be as odd as your mother?”

“You adored my mother. You told me so. And I’m your little princess.” Blayne grinned and her father snorted out a laugh but cut it short like he always did.

“And what is next in my little princess’s plan to get her feline friend a bear? Although why anyone would want a bear…” he ended on a grumble.

“We’re almost there, Daddy, but…we’re…we’re not there yet.”

“That made no sense. What have I told you before about not making sense to me? You know I hate that.”

“I also know you should be used to it by now.” Her father’s lip curled and Blayne quickly threatened, “If you snarl, I start crying.”

“Please don’t.” He leaned back in the chair and said, “Okay. Remember what I taught you.”

“About knife fighting and skinning animals?”

“No. Although that’s good information. I’m talking about seeing the final outcome of what you want and seeing where you are right now. From there, you figure out that final step. And keep in mind that you’re dealing with predators.”

Blayne thought for a moment before she said, “She needs to claim him.”

“I thought she had.”

“That was to her brother. She’d claim Genghis Khan if she thought it would piss off Mitch. She needs to claim Lock as her own, in front of the world. Or, at the very least, me. That’s the final hurdle.”

Her father picked up his copy of the Navy Times. “And for a feline, Blayne, that will be the hardest hurdle of all.”

“I know, Daddy.” She picked up her cell phone. “And that’s why you need friends.”

CHAPTER 24

An envelope appeared in front of Lock’s face, his name embossed in silver on the front and his response was immediate, “Not in this lifetime.”

“You have to go,” Ric said, leaning against Lock’s desk, ignoring all the papers, CDs, DVDs, hard drives, and small tools he had littering it. “If you don’t, I assure you there will be tears. You know you can’t handle that.”

“I’m not putting on some stupid costume and parading around—”

“Already discussed and you’re off the hook.”

“I am?”

“Yes.”

“You have that in writing?”

“For a costume party?”

“Not just a costume party. A wild dog costume party. That means a costume, a copious amount of chocolate, and an inhuman amount of knowledge on the Lord of the Ring movies.”