The Beast in Him (Pride #2)(31)

“Maybe you should let it go,” Danny suggested. “You’re just embarrassing yourself.”
“Wait!” May ordered. “Just wait. What about Smitty? You can’t have him come tonight. It’s not fair!”
Now all of them but May were laughing, leaving the poor She-dog to dramatically storm off on her own.
CHAPTER 17
“Why am I here?”
Smitty didn’t even spare a glance at Mitch. “Because I’m pretty sure this is a gay bar Jessie has me coming to. And you’re much more gay-friendly than I am. You’ll distract them from my amazing body.”
“So... I’m your beard?”
“I don’t know if you’re using that term correctly, but I also don’t care.” 
Smitty grabbed Mitch’s jacket and pulled him to the bar called Caleb’s Corner. There was a bouncer out front, but he barely looked at them. And there was no line waiting to get in. What a lame-ass gay club. Still, Jessie was here. Which meant he was going to be here.
But once they got inside, all Smitty wanted to do was turn around and run. Run for his very life. Lord in heaven, Jessica Ann Ward was the meanest female on the planet! And she should burn for this. Burn!
“Wait. I thought you said this was a gay bar?” Mitch sounded as horrified as Smitty felt.
“I thought it was.”
“Well, it’s not, and I’m out of here!”
Mitch tried to make a run for it, but Smitty grabbed his jacket collar and yanked the big cat back. “You’re not deserting me, Shaw.”
“Like hell I’m not. You may have that military connection with Llewellyn, but I’m from Philly. There’s some things we won’t do for anyone.”
The two were seconds from pulling out claws and going at it in the middle of the bar when Jessie suddenly—and literally—jumped in front of them.
“Smitty!” She wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him. And in that second he knew he wouldn’t leave. She smelled too good.
When she pulled away, she looked over at Mitch. “Oh... you.”
“And I’m happy to see you, too, beautiful.”
Jessie stepped back and gestured around. “As you can see, we’ve pretty much taken over the place, but we’ve got some bears and a few jackals hanging out tonight, so you two shouldn’t feel too out of place with all these dogs.” She pointed toward an empty booth. “Why don’t you guys grab a table and sit back and relax.”
“Sure. After we stop at the bar first.”
“Oh.” Jessie scrunched up her face. The action annoyed him because she looked so goddamn cute doing it. “I forgot to mention. Caleb lost his liquor license a week ago. So, at least for now, soft drinks, virgin margaritas, and Shirley Temples only. But the Shirley Temples are to die for.”
Smitty worked hard not to grit his teeth. “There’s no liquor here?”
“Nope.” And she grinned, evil female that she was. “I’m sorry, Smitty.”
No, she wasn’t. She wasn’t sorry at all!
“Don’t worry about it, darlin’,” he lied. “We’ll survive.”
“We will?”
Smitty shoved Mitch into an empty booth. “We’ll be just fine,” he insisted, unwilling to show any weakness in the face of such travesty.
“Okay.” Jessie’s head snapped up. “Oh, there’s my cue. I’ll talk to you guys in a bit.”
Smitty watched Jessie Ann run across the dance floor and up on the stage. The crowd roared her name; apparently this was not a once-in-a-blue-moon event. The Kuznetsov Pack were regulars.
The music for “Coal Miner’s Daughter” started to play and Jess stepped up to the mic.
“Oh, Lord in heaven.”
“A karaoke bar.” Mitch glared at him. “You dragged us to a karaoke bar?”
“She didn’t tell me it was karaoke.”
“You know it’s bad enough having to listen to you guys howl all the time. But this... this may be asking too much. Dogs. Singing.” Mitch turned to the bar and lashed Smitty with another glare. “And no goddamn liquor. You know, as per shifter law, I could legally kill you.”
He almost wished the whining cat would.
Jessie opened her mouth to start singing and Smitty cringed, waiting for those first tragic, painful notes... but he ended up blinking in surprise. Even Mitch looked shocked. Jessie Ann was good—and she sounded exactly like Loretta Lynn, the Grande Dame of Country Music.“I never knew she liked country music,” Smitty said in awe.
“Yeah, that must make her prime mate material for a Smith. She’ll fit right in at one of your hootenannies.”
Smitty glared across the booth. “Please. Give me one reason to kill you. Just one.”
Jess belted out that last note of “Coal Miner’s Daughter” and the crowd jumped to their feet, chanting her name. Okay, so she’d never make it to the Grand Ole Opry in this lifetime—her secret dream only her closest friends knew about—but who needed that when she had dogs barking for more?
She bowed to her adoring fans and jumped off the stage. Immediately Danny replaced her for his rendition of .38 Specials “Hang on Loosely,” which always made his wife swoon.
To her surprise, Smitty and Mitch hadn’t bailed yet. She thought for sure Smitty would run screaming into the night as soon as he realized it was a “dry” karaoke bar. Wolves may love to howl, but nothing they hated more than to hear dogs sing. And dogs loved to sing. Add in no tequila and that was not a wolf’s idea of a good time. More like one of their nightmares.
Yet how he kept Mitch Shaw locked into place, she’d never know. Cats really hated hearing dogs sing. It rankled their fur.
Jess sat down next to Smitty and smiled.
“You could have warned me, Jessie Ann.”
“I could have—but how would that be fun for me?”
Teeth gritted again and she even elicited a slight sneer. Feeling pretty good about that, Jess turned to Mitch. “How’s that nonalcoholic beer doing it for ya, Mitch?”
Really, you haven’t lived until you’ve been hissed at.
“So how long does this thing last anyway?” Smitty asked, probably trying to distract her from toying with Mitch.
“Until two. Usually.”
“In the morning?”
Jess barely held in a laugh. He sounded so... despondent. “Would you prefer I said afternoon? Besides, you don’t have to stay. In fact, feel free to go.”
“Rock on.” Mitch went to stand up and Smitty reached over and shoved him back in the seat.
“Is there a reason you’re being mean to me, Jessie Ann?”
“Other than I’m enjoying it? Not really.”
“You know, Jessie Ann,” he growled, “when you’re being mean like this you do nothing but make me hard.”
Not exactly the response she expected.
Mitch shook his head. “Wolves are so weird, bruh.”
Ignoring Mitch, Smitty took her hand, and in that one simple move had her wishing they were alone. With his thumb making lazy circles around her knuckles, he said, “Okay. You made your point. Now come home with me.” 
Jess swallowed. She’d never had a man seem so desperate to be with her before. She liked it.
“Uh... ” she began awkwardly, but May jumped into the booth right behind her.
“Hey, Jess.” On her knees, May leaned over the back of the booth. “Kenshin’s here.”
Kenshin Inu walked into the club with his Pack right behind him. An Asian wild dog, Ken had a family that moved around constantly. True nomads, the Inu Pack traveled all over the world. Their main den remained Tokyo, Japan—yes, all of it—but the world was their true home. Ken and Jess had been close since he’d saved her from getting arrested one summer in Chicago many, many years ago. And Ken had given her the seed money to start the company. The dot-com bubble had busted a long time ago, and giving their Pack money had been a risk. One he still made money off of. Jess was nearly as close to Kenshin as she was to Phil.
As soon as he saw her, his face lit up and Jess pulled her hand away from Smitty’s grip, slid out of the booth, and ran over to her friend.
“Kenshin!” She threw her arms around his neck and Ken picked her up, swinging her around in a circle. They hadn’t seen each other in over a year and she missed her bud. It had been ages since they stayed up watching bad seventies slasher films and mocking. She missed the mocking.
“How is my favorite wild dog?” he jokingly asked.
“Wonderful.” She kissed his cheek and he lowered her but kept his hands on her waist. “How’s your father and mother?” Jess had always liked Ken’s parents. They were sweet and outrageously goofy.
“Tiresome.” Ken leaned back the slightest bit and gazed down into her face. “You look very... happy.” His eyes grew wide. “Did you get laid?”
“Kenshin!” She grabbed his hand and led him to a booth at the back of the club. “I swear I can’t take you anywhere.”
Smitty watched some scrawny Akita walk away with his woman.
“Uh... dude?”
He looked over at Mitch. “What?”
“You need to calm down.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Your claws are out. So are your fangs.”
Retracting the offending implements of death, he demanded, “Well, who the fuck is that guy?” Other than someone who had to die.