“What? What’s wrong?” she asked, worried he might be hiding more serious damage. Then again, he’d been naked until the last five minutes, so she would have seen any additional wounds.
Shay got to his feet, towering over her. She thought he was about to say “Thank you” again and she really didn’t want to hear it. But he just stood there, looking down at her with this intense expression on his face. She had no idea what to make of it until he leaned in.
Leaned in to kiss her.
He didn’t just grab her, though, and pull her close. He leaned in until he was kind of close and then he stopped . . . and waited.
Shay waited for her.
*
He didn’t know why he was doing this. Why he was risking what was turning into a very nice friendship with this move. But he really wanted to do it. He wanted to kiss her. He just needed to know she wanted the kiss as much as he did. He wouldn’t force himself on her. That was not something a woman like Tock would appreciate one bit. She didn’t play games. She didn’t tease. She was just Tock. A dangerous honey badger who had been shot at least seven times and was still standing strong, making sure his daughter was safe.
How could he not want to kiss this woman?
He had to wait, though. He had to wait for her.
“We have to go,” she said, staring back at him.
“I know.”
“We don’t have time for foolishness.”
“I know.”
“We’re on a schedule. That helicopter is not going to wait for us.”
“I know.”
“People clearly want us dead.”
“I know.”
Still . . . he waited.
“So, we should really go.”
“Okay.”
As she stared at him, her entire face abruptly scrunched into what appeared to be a huge frown. Shay had no idea how to read her expression, but he figured it was his cue to walk out the front door.
She pulled her hand away from his, and he started to straighten up until she pressed that same hand against his cheek.
Startled, Shay looked down at Tock again and watched in awe as she went up on her toes. When that wasn’t enough, she slid her hand around the back of his neck and pulled him closer until their lips met.
The first touch shook him hard. Harder than he expected. He could feel that first touch down to his toes. Then she turned her head a little and he opened his mouth. Her tongue slid inside and brushed against his.
That’s when he slid his hands into her curly hair and held her in place as he kissed her back. When he did, she gripped the back of his neck with one hand and his waist with the other.
It was the kind of kiss that seemed to go on forever and not last long enough.
When she finally pulled away, Shay let out a little growl. He didn’t want it to end, but he knew it had to. Because life was unfair.
Brushing her hand against her throat and blinking, Tock said, “We really . . .” She pointed at her watch. “Time,” she said.
Her momentary incoherence gave him tremendous hope.
“Right,” he replied. “Time.”
She pushed away from him and strode toward the door. Shay happily followed.
Chapter 18
Charlie gazed up at the mile-high ceilings and down at the marble floors. This wasn’t some small, overpriced Hamptons summer home for those trying to pretend to be wealthy.
Nope. This was a mansion. A true Dynasty-type TV show mansion for the extremely wealthy. There were at least three floors that she could see from the front of the house, she didn’t know how many rooms, a sweeping marble staircase, and acres of land surrounding the whole thing.
Charlie had always known of Tracey Rutowski. Not only as Mads’s aunt, but also as a very important art dealer. Her company had galleries all over the world, and she’d helped bring up some of the most important artists of the last thirty years. Many of them people of color. Rutowski was also feared. Stealing from her gallery was not a wise move. Every honey badger avoided it. Full-human thieves eventually learned to avoid any gallery or show the female was involved in.
Still, this mansion didn’t just imply a successful business. It implied old money. And Tracey Rutowski was definitely new money.
Even stranger, the entire mansion reeked of badger and . . . wolf?
“Did you know your nose was a little . . .” Steph Yoon lifted her hands and moved them around her face without touching it, indicating that the pain Charlie had been feeling was from a busted nose. Again.
“I did not.”
“Want me to try and—”
“Max,” Charlie called out.
Her sister appeared at her side, turned Charlie to face her, put her hands on her face, and roughly twisted her nose around with strong fingers until it was back in place enough to heal on its own.
Charlie took in a deep breath. She never breathed better than after she got her nose broken and repaired. But it wouldn’t last. In a few hours, her allergies would be irritating her once again. For now, though, that wolf smell came through even stronger.
“Thanks,” she said to her sister.
“The Malone girl—”
“Nat.”
“—is on her way with those bears,” Yoon told her. “Will be here in a little while.”
“Great.”
“And we’re working on getting Stevie out of her lab.” She glanced at her phone. “She’s not making it easy, though.”
“Let her bring some of her lab stuff with her. She’s working on a problem, and she hates being interrupted.”
“Right. Okay.” She texted someone before asking, “Are you hungry? Thirsty?”
“I would love some water. And something for a headache.”
“Oh, sure. This way.”
Yoon walked away and Charlie started to follow, but she immediately stopped and spun around. Max and her friends all froze. They hadn’t actually been doing anything, but Charlie wanted to make sure they didn’t start doing anything. Not until she knew exactly what was going on.
Charlie pointed her finger. Mostly at Max, but she made sure to make eye contact with the other two. Tock was off with the Malone brother and Streep had been put into a bed with a doctor and nurse to care for her.
“While we’re here,” she announced to the women, “there will be no stealing, no lying, no setting anything on fire. No parties, no ambushes, no casual get-togethers that turn into riots.” She started to turn away, but stopped again and quickly added, “You will also not gnaw on the furniture, claw your way into any crawl spaces, or chew through any wiring.”
“Are they racoons?” Yoon asked.
“Sometimes.”
With one more glare at her sister and her friends, Charlie followed Yoon from the room.
*
“If we can’t gnaw on furniture, what are we supposed to do?” Nelle asked. Only half joking, Max guessed. The woman did like to gnaw.
“A place like this must have a basketball court somewhere on it.”
“We are not going to practice, Mads.” Max looked up at the walls. So much expensive artwork and she couldn’t touch any of it without her sister kicking her ass.
“You’re practically drooling,” Nelle told her.
“Dude,” Max sighed, staring up at the large wall beside the stairs, “that’s a real Chagall.”
“They’ll definitely notice if that one goes missing.”
Mads joined them. “If we’re not going to practice—”
“Oh, my God, seriously?”