by Lauren Dane
“What about the human?” Gibson asked.
“Human?”
“They brought a human lawyer with them when they came into our territory. What’s his story and where is he?” Gibson had been looking for him since that first day, but he’d come up empty. The name he’d used appeared to be fake.
“I don’t know. I…we have an attorney but it’s a she and she’s a cat. Why would we send a human attorney to deal with jamboree business?”
“This was our question. And I suppose now it’s more along the lines of what prompted this mess.”
“We have a new Bringer as well. I’ll get him your info and have him look around and get back to you, Gibson. We sincerely apologize for what has happened in our name and ask that you not judge us along with Bertram and these other cats.”
They’d be within their rights to call for war. Or to bankrupt Smithville. And depending on what they found out, it was still an option. But Max and Gibson, along with the other leadership, didn’t feel like it was time for that yet. Not until they found out what was really going on.
“We accept your appeasement. For now. But we want to know what the fuck is going on.”
“We understand and appreciate your patience. I’ll keep you apprised. Understand things are up in the air here. The jamboree is…well we’re all shocked. But this was not done on behalf of the jamboree. This was the crazed act of several individuals. We’re trying to get to the bottom of it.”
They spoke for a while longer before hanging up. Max turned his attention to Gibson. “So?”
“No use punishing all the cats in the jamboree if they had nothing to do with it.”
Galen spoke up. “I’ve put our best investigator on this full time. He’s got a team working. They’re pulling together dossiers on all the cats we had here on the day of the shooting as well as on Pepper and the female he was with.”
“Good. I want us working on this. I understand they need answers down there, but I don’t give a fuck about that. My Bringer was shot with silver. For Weres to use silver on one another is an error we cannot allow to stand. And I’m sure as hell not going to stand idly by while my cats are being attacked in their businesses. I want answers, Galen. And I want them as soon as possible. The longer this goes on, the more tempted people might be to want to forget about it. That’s not going to happen.”
Gibson nodded. “The fact is, Smithville is a tiny, not very well managed jamboree. We can’t expect them to have answers as quickly as we might. We have the structure and training in place for it. They don’t. I’m not saying we don’t need that information. At this point, I’m just not sure we’re going to get it without a trip down there to do what they should know how to already.”
Galen, who like Gibson was Max’s second, stood. “All true. I’m working on my end. I’ll see you both this evening at the gathering?”
Imogene had convinced Kendra it was necessary to have a dinner to honor Mia and her service to the jamboree. He’d tried to stay out of it, especially after the sex, but his mother had gone around him anyway, and whatever she’d said had convinced Mia to accept the invitation. She and her family were all invited, though he had no idea if the whole Porter clan would attend or if it would be just Mia. But he’d be at Mia’s doorstep that evening. It was to protect her, of course. She’d saved him after all.
Gibson nodded. “I’ll be there.”
Max snorted. “Yes. Kendra and our mother have been working on the details. I’m just glad it’s finally here so it can be over and I don’t have to hear about it every day. And I admit to wanting to see this Mia Porter in person. Mami says she’s beautiful.” Max raised a brow at Gibson.
“That’s an accurate description.” He didn’t smile, but he wanted to. She was indeed beautiful. He flashed on a vision of what she’d looked like spread out beneath him in his bed. And then later in her front entry when he’d made some stupid excuse to go to her place to check in.
“That’s some loaded silence there.” Galen winked.
“So, what’s the story between you and Mia Porter?” Max asked when Galen had left.
“What do you mean?”
Max cleared his throat. “Really, Gibson?”
“There’s no story. She saved me. Twice as it happens. She’s clever and vicious.”
“And beautiful.”
Gibson shrugged. “Yes. And a Porter.”
Max waved that away. “So what? She’s not her grandmother and you are sure as hell not Silvio. Papi would beat your ass if you acted that way. I just… Well it’s been a long time coming. You deserve someone. I don’t care that she’s a Porter and neither does anyone else.”
“Look, we had sex a few times. I enjoy her company for what it is, but that’s all it is. Something fun and casual. I respect her. But there’s nothing more to it.”
His brother just stared for long moments before he tapped his pen on the desk. “Stop lying to yourself. In any case, I’ll see you later. Let me know what’s going on with this whole Smithville mess.”
Gibson stood, relieved to get out of that room and back to work. “Got it.”
Mia adjusted her shirt a little. And tried to tell herself she didn’t even care what Gibson thought of how she looked. A total lie. She blotted her lipstick and decided not to wear the bracelet she’d been considering.
A dinner in her honor. Good Lord.
When Imogene had shown up at the store, again, and proposed the idea she’d been really hesitant. It was best to keep away from jamboree stuff.
But of all people, it was her grandmother, Lettie, who’d been in the shop and overheard. She’d bustled out to give Imogene a piece of her mind about bullying Mia, but Mia had to explain the situation and her grandmother had cackled, laughing so hard she nearly choked. She’d patted Mia’s hand, told her she was proud of what a fine woman she’d grown into and that of course they’d all attend the dinner.
Then she’d turned her attention to Imogene and told her that while she wasn’t sure any de La Vega deserved to have silver bullets dug from them, that she was glad her granddaughter had more dignity than to step over Gibson and keep walking.
Imogene hadn’t been offended at all, but rather, apparently delighted. The two had a back-and-forth that had left Mia cringing a time or two, but in the end, Lettie and Imogene had left the shop to go get coffee and that had been that.
She had no idea what her grandmother had told Imogene, but the invitation hadn’t been rescinded so she figured it couldn’t have been that bad. She’d seen Gibson that same night—she smiled again remembering just how she’d seen him—totally naked. But he hadn’t acted any differently toward her either, so she made the assumption that Lettie hadn’t drawn blood, or if she had, all was forgiven on Imogene’s part.
Well, no time like now to get her butt out the door.
She locked up and then nearly punched Gibson in the face when he melted out of nowhere as she reached the sidewalk.
He put his hands up. “Didn’t mean to startle you.”
“Hmpf.” She unfisted her hand and resisted patting at her hair, though she did run her tongue over her teeth just in case she had lipstick on them.
“I was thinking it’d be good to give you a ride over to the dinner.”
“Were you now?” As if she didn’t know he wanted to do it himself because he liked to be in charge.
“Better that than the T. And you look so pretty you know you’d get harassed.” He looked down to her feet and raised a brow at her.
She had on some pretty peep-toe pumps that took her barely five-and-a-half feet to five nine or so. Plus she’d gone and gotten a fabulous pedicure, and she wanted to show off the bright red polish she had on.
“What? Just because I can dig a bullet from downed shifters and shoot a gun doesn’t mean I don’t like high heels.” She did, in fact. She had more pairs of shoes than she should have, but she didn’t feel bad about it. As addictions went, it wasn’t a bad one.
“I’m glad y
ou do.” He held out an arm and she took it.
“You look very handsome.” He really did. She hadn’t seen him dressed up before. The black tie against the black suit should have been odd, but it wasn’t. He’d tied his hair back, exposing more of his face. Ridiculously gorgeous.
“I do?”
She buckled in and he walked around to his side.
“Yes.”
“Can’t be as beautiful as you look. You’ve got legs made for skirts.”
She blushed. “Thanks.”
“I wanted to let you know we’re still working on the shooting situation. They’ve removed the old Alpha and several other members from their jamboree ranks.”
“Wow. Really? I mean, good, they should. But to remove an Alpha, that’s complicated I imagine.”
He was quiet a while before he answered, which wasn’t totally unusual, he was a man of very few words. But this felt different.
“Each jamboree handles it in their own way, but yes, it’s complicated to replace any cats from leadership positions in a jamboree. To unseat an Alpha and a Bringer will be a great upheaval for Smithville. If those fuckers hadn’t shot me and you, I’d probably feel worse about it.”
“I don’t feel bad when people act like thugs and have to pay a price. All for what? Getting pissy because they brought too many cats into your territory and got slapped? It’s not like dominance games aren’t part and parcel of our world.”
“The price will be paid by the other cats in the jamboree. That’s what I feel bad about.”
Beneath that grumpy, broody male exterior, there was a big giant heart. He pretended like he was hard all the time, but she saw through that. Saw through the Bringer he wore like a second skin to the compassion and gentleness beneath.
She knew he’d be uncomfortable if she commented on that so she poked at him instead. A girl had to keep him on his toes, clearly.
“Yes, I’m aware of how the things leaders of the jamboree do hurt others.”
He snorted. “Back on that? I hear your grandmother had coffee with my mother.”
“Apparently she’s still alive. I didn’t see anything in the paper. I’d count that as a success. That and your mother called to remind me about tonight. Twice.”
He may have quirked up a grin. He was unreadable sometimes.
“She respects your grandmother. She can be hard to win over.”
“My grandmother?”
He laughed then. “I meant my mother, but from what I’ve heard and how you are, I’d imagine that extends to her as well.”
“I’m not hard to win over.”
“Ha.”
“Ha? Is that the best you’ve got? Ha?”
“You’re stubborn. And temperamental.”
“I’m resolute and in touch with my emotions.” She tried to sound haughty, but in her attempt not to laugh it didn’t come off as good as she’d have liked.
“Ha.”
“So anyway, what’s the plan for tonight? I don’t have to give a speech or anything? Your mother was less than forthcoming.”
“She likes to keep people on their toes. But as far as I know, it’s just a dinner. My brother Max will make a speech of some kind. He’s a speech type of guy. He’s grateful for your service and not totally unaware of the history between our families.”
“We’ve been to jamboree events, you know. Every year we do the children’s hospital picnic. We answer the call when it’s made.”
“I can’t believe I’ve never noticed you at any of the gatherings.”
“There are too many people there to notice, I’d wager. We kept to ourselves and our small group. You were probably prowling around being scary anyway.”
“I’m sorry.”
She was reaching out to touch his hand before she’d even realized she was doing it. She brushed her fingertips over the back of his fingers, over his knuckles. “It’s not on you. And it’s old history, as you point out. I made the joke at the end, you know, to soften it.”
But he kept serious. “The jamboree is a source of great comfort to me. Safety. Loyalty. I’m sorry it wasn’t that for you and I hope things change. It shouldn’t have been a place of dread. Our job as the governing family is to open our doors and care for our cats. We haven’t done that with your family. I regret that.”
“Did you do it personally? Repeat lies about my grandmother?”
“No, and I understand what you’re saying. But it’s something we’d like to remedy. Not the lies, we can’t undo the past. But this is your jamboree. I…we want you to be at home within it.”
She gave in and smiled. “Thank you.”
She didn’t know why he was so anxious when they arrived. He went to get her door and for once she allowed it. That flustered him. Her hand in his as he helped her down was warm, and he kept it as they headed toward the house.
Chapter Seven
“Gibson, come in!” A pretty woman opened the door.
Mia froze a moment. The other woman’s scent was cat, yes, but something else too.
“Mia Porter, this is Kendra de La Vega. She’s Max’s wife.”
“And my Alpha.” And a witch, which is why she had that difference in scent. Mia dipped her head just enough. There was no call to be rude, after all. But she didn’t need to give her obeisance to this female just yet.
Kendra took her hands. “It’s really my pleasure to meet you. I like Gibson in one piece, you see. And you saved him. Thank you. Please come in and out to the backyard. Imogene is out there ordering people around and making it look like she’s only suggesting things.”
Mia couldn’t help but like Kendra, with her dry humor and easy affection toward her brother-in-law.
“Is my father around? I’d like to have him meet Mia before everyone arrives.”
A tall, beautiful man throwing off so much testosterone it was clear he was Gibson’s big brother, Max, came down the hall as they entered the main part of the house. “Mia Porter, I presume?”
Suddenly shy, she nodded. Gibson squeezed the hand he still held, and she found her courage again. “Yes, and you must be Max.” She averted her eyes a moment as she tipped her chin down.
“I am. And I’m very pleased to meet you in person so I can thank you for your service to our jamboree. Gibson has told us about the shooting and the situation with the car chase the other night. Though he’s often gruff, we like having him around.”
Gibson snorted and she relaxed a little.
She’d accepted thanks enough on this that she had gotten past her initial tendency to blow it off. As her grandmother had told her, it was important to let people thank you and important to be gracious in response.
“You’re welcome. Thank you for having me here this evening.”
Max’s smile went from all business to something more relaxed. “My mother loves to have parties. It’s nice to give her a good reason.”
Kendra came back to their group and Max pulled her to his side. “She hasn’t even made it outside yet, boys.” She turned her attention back to Mia. “Would you like a drink? There’s a full bar set up out back.” Their metabolisms were too fast to really get drunk, but a nice glass of wine was good for you—an adage her father repeated often.
“Sure, that would be lovely.” She turned back to Gibson. “I’ve met your father. Once, a long time ago.” She’d seen them all from afar as she’d grown up.
“I hadn’t thought of that. Of course. But he’d still like to speak to you.” He leaned in closer. “You’ll like him. Nearly everyone does.”
The backyard was set up for dinner. Several long tables were topped with pretty place settings and flickering candles. She envied them this huge outdoor space. Children ran and played off to the side of the main yard. Fenced and full of things for them to run and jump all over. It made her smile. The surreptitious guard posted didn’t make her so gooey inside, but she knew the reason for it and was glad their young were all safe.
“My nieces and nephews.”
She heartily approved of the way it appeared the de La Vegas cared for their young. Family was the most important thing.
Gibson liked the way she smiled as she caught sight of the kids. She was nearly shy, which he had imagined he’d find annoying given her general fearlessness, but instead he was touched by it.
“Ah! You’re here.” His mother, her expression lightening when she caught sight of them, paused to take some drinks from a tray before continuing on her way over, Cesar, his father, at her side.
“Mia Porter, thank you for your service to this jamboree and to my son. I am in your debt.” Cesar bowed deeply to Mia, who blinked, wide eyed at his father’s old-school chivalry.
“I…thank you. Even if he was a de La Vega.” She smiled to underline that it was a joke.
Cesar took her hands, laughing. “A sense of humor is most welcome. As are you. We’re happy to have you here.”
Imogene handed Mia a glass. “Champagne?”
Mia, now freed from his father’s grip, took the glass. “Yes, thank you.”
“Gibson, show her around. Introduce her. Oh and thank you for your recommendation. We have a case of the borsao from your shop. Cesar loves red wine.”
“And good Spanish red as well.”
His father grinned back, flirting now. “Indeed. We love wine and food.”
“It’s one of my favorite things about the Spanish.”
Gibson liked this side of her. The ease she had with his father warmed him. Imogene sent him a look and he knew she was thinking the same. Admittedly he was relieved. Things had most decidedly not been easy between Renee and Imogene when Galen first brought her around.
It was better now. In fact his sister-in-law and his mother were very close. But he’d have hated it if there had been tension.
Of course because he wanted the Porters back in the jamboree and he knew it was important for them all to be united in the face of all the chaos just outside.
He held his arm out and she took it. “I’m ready for my tour.”
She didn’t look too overwhelmed. In fact, she’d warmed up as they strolled around the yard and he introduced her. Several people already knew her, which he was glad of. Not so much the way a few of the males took her in, their gazes lingering on those legs he’d complimented earlier. He kept a hand at the small of her back, knowing he shouldn’t but not stopping himself. She wasn’t his, but she sure as hell wasn’t going to be anyone else’s. Not then anyway.
