* * *

How it happened that Tiger ended up dressed again and seated in the middle of the couch in the family room, Althea and Zoë on either side of him, Carly couldn’t remember. The time seemed to buzz by her like a fly against glass.

Althea and Zoë each held a large balloonlike glass of red wine, and her mother had poured herself and Carly each one as Rosalie cleaned up the kitchen and started prepping for dinner. Janine sat at the kitchen table looking on, but she wanted only bottled water after the long trip.

They’d returned from shopping early, Carly’s mother said, because they’d run out of money. That was just like Carly’s sisters. While Carly and Janine had both reacted to their father’s desertion by wanting to be careful, Althea and Zoë had compensated by living as largely as possible—traveling, shopping, being expansive and generous. They’d been older, though, when their father had gone, already planning their decorating business together as soon as they finished their fine arts degrees. Life had been good to them business-wise, enabling them to buy this big house and go on shopping sprees whenever they wanted.

In love, though, they’d not been as lucky. Althea had gotten married during college and divorced two years later, saying she didn’t want a husband who expected her to give up her dreams so she could wait on him hand and foot. Zoë had run through a series of boyfriends, none of whom had lasted long. Janine had, happily, married the sweetest guy—Simon—and now had a son who’d inherited his father’s sunny disposition.

Without exception, the sisters were interested in Tiger. He held a beer between his big hands, quietly watching, but not looking unhappy, as Althea and Zoë plied him with questions.

“So, where you from? Not Texas, I take it.”

“Nevada,” Tiger answered.

“What part?”

“Around Las Vegas.”

“Ooh, that sounds fun. How about a road trip there, Carly?”

“You just got home,” Carly said to Althea. “And give him a break.”

Zoë took up the gauntlet on his other side. “So, how did you and Carly meet?”

“Carly gave me a ride,” Tiger said.

“Then she really did pick you up.” Zoë laughed. “Great dye job on your hair, by the way. I might try it. What do you do for a living?”

Tiger contemplated a moment, then answered, “I fix cars.”

Carly let out her pent-up breath. He was telling the truth but in a way they wouldn’t question it.

“You didn’t do such a hot job on the one in the garage,” Zoë said.

“That’s not mine. We borrowed it.”

Althea looked at him in confusion. “Then where’s your car, Carly? If you picked him up?”

“I didn’t pick him up today,” Carly said. “My car got wrecked.”

“What?” All four Randal women shrieked, but not in synch. They demanded to know what happened, and Carly had to wait until they quieted before she gave them a truncated version of events, including Tiger being there when she’d caught Ethan. She told them that Tiger’s name was Bram, the first name that popped into her head for some reason.

Carly ended by saying she’d brought Tiger here today, where she thought they’d have a little peace and quiet. Her pointed look was met with oblivious stares.

“What a romantic story,” Zoë said, sighing happily. “A chance meeting, Ethan being a bastard, this guy scaring the crap out of Ethan.”

Tiger didn’t answer her, because he was looking over at Janine. “You have a little one.”

Janine brightened, as she did whenever someone mentioned her son. “Did Carly tell you? Yes, a little boy. He’s almost two.”

“I mean you have another little one.” Tiger pointed at her abdomen. “Soon.”

Another chorus of What? rang around the kitchen, and this one Carly joined. Janine blushed as red as Althea’s wine.

“How did you know?” Janine asked, stammering a little. “I’m about two months. I was going to tell y’all—I got the message when we were driving, but I wanted to wait until we were with Simon.”

Althea and Zoë abandoned Tiger to surround Janine with hugs, kisses, and exclamations of delight. Carly’s mom left the sink, gave Carly a quick hug on the way, and went to Janine.

“Congratulations, Janine,” Carly said, warming all over. Another addition to the family, another niece or nephew to cuddle. Janine deserved the happiness.

Carly saw Tiger watching her. She knew what was going on in his head—if she ran with him, she’d have to leave her sisters and Janine’s new baby. She’d likely never get to see the newest Randal-Johnson.

The lump in her throat was hard. Carly lifted her untouched glass of wine to her lips, tears stinging her eyes.

“Carly is also having a little one,” Tiger said.

Althea’s and Zoë’s voices shut off with a snap. All eyes turned now to Carly.

“Oh my God,” Althea said. “Ethan’s? What a mess. I thought you were on birth control.”

“I am,” Carly said, her body numb. “I don’t know what he’s talking about.”

Tiger rose from the couch and walked to Carly, putting his hands on the kitchen counter and looking over it to her. “The babe is mine. But it’s there. Only a day old.”

Carly tried to answer, but her mouth wouldn’t work. Tiger seemed to know things he couldn’t possibly, so she didn’t scoff at him, tell him he was wrong, that it was too soon to know.

She looked at the wineglass she’d raised and quickly set it down.

“If that’s true, you’d better get off birth control right away,” Janine said. “It could damage the baby, and you.”

“I’m not . . .” Carly stopped. She and Tiger had been having wild and wicked sex, making love more often in the last two days than she had with Ethan collectively over two years.

Shifter sperm, especially Tiger’s, was probably stronger than a human’s. Even if her birth control was meant to keep eggs from falling where they could be fertilized, she wouldn’t be surprised if one of Tiger’s sperm had found one and dragged it out of hiding.

The girls had gone back to talking to Janine, perhaps thinking Tiger was joking. Carly knew he wasn’t. Tears slid from the corners of her eyes, and Tiger reached out and brushed one away.