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“And you’re still not paying for groceries.”

“Yes, I am—deal with it.”

“Don’t tell me to deal with it. It is my house, my kitchen, my food—”

“Which I’ll have paid for. Jesus, Bree, I’m not suggesting I pay to have your damn kitchen remodeled. We’re talking groceries here.” He gave his head a little shake. “Why are we fighting?”

“We’re not fighting. We’re arguing.”

“How is that different?”

“My claws are sheathed, and you’re not bleeding. But that can change fast.”

The corner of his mouth twitched. “You’re hot when you’re mad.”

“Don’t try to change the subject.” Taking in a calming breath, she raised both hands. “Okay, on a scale of 1 to 10, how important is this to you?”

“A gazillion.”

She sighed impatiently. “Seriously?”

“Seriously.” He gave her a hard kiss. “Glad we got that sorted.”

“We didn’t get anything sorted, we—”

“I have to go to the mechanic’s shop,” he said, referring to another of the pride businesses that he co-owned with Vinnie. “I won’t be long. If you need me, call.” And then he just swanned out of the break room.

Bree clenched her fists. The guy was a pain in her ass.

Wanting to use the bathroom before her lunch break was officially over, she headed to the restroom and did her business. Washing her hands afterward, she sighed at her reflection in the mirror above the sink. Lines of strain were etched deep into her face. But then, that was no surprise, considering she had several questions bouncing around her head like pinballs.

Had it been Calvin who left the necklaces? Had he—or whoever the intruder was—broken into her home before? Would she arrive home later to find that someone had trespassed again and left her yet more “gifts?”

No one should have to feel unsafe in their own home. But knowing that some fucker had so easily snuck past her guards and security like that … the whole thing made her house feel tainted in some way. So, yeah, her cat was monumentally pissed. Like all shifters, the feline was pathologically territorial.

Having dried her hands with paper towels, Bree walked out of the restroom and headed to the showroom floor. She’d no sooner took up her usual position behind the counter when the bell above the door jingled. She looked up. And silently cursed a blue streak as Bernadette, Ruben, and Moira strode inside.

There was nothing confrontational about their body language, which was probably the only reason that Greg didn’t refuse them entrance. But the enforcer’s eyes were sharp on the trio, and she knew he’d throw them out if they gave him the slightest reason.

Alex stayed at the store most days while she worked, and it seemed awful convenient that they’d turned up while he was absent. She wondered if the Cages had watched and waited for an opportunity to talk to her without him present.

“Well, hell,” muttered Elle as she slipped behind the counter and moved to stand behind Bree in a gesture of support. James and Valentina didn’t move from their positions near his desk, but their eyes stayed on the newcomers as they crossed to the counter.

Bernadette looked at Bree with a tremulous but serene smile on her face. “You believe now, don’t you? I told Paxton was alive, but you wouldn’t listen.”

Bree sighed. Oh, Lord. “Bernadette—”

“Don’t say you think it’s Calvin who’s been doing these things,” the woman said. “You know he didn’t. You know he wouldn’t.” Her brows drew together. “You really threw away the half-heart necklace Paxton gave you?”

“He didn’t give it to me. You did.”

Bernadette shook her head. “It was a gift from Paxton. He wanted you to know that you’d always be in his thoughts. Why would you throw the gift away?”

“Maybe because she’s an ungrateful little bitch,” Moira muttered beneath her breath, earning her a harsh look from her father.

Ruben turned to Bree. “I know this has to be a confusing time for you. He’s been gone so long that you believed he was dead. I can understand if you’re angry that he’s stayed away all this time, but we hope you’ll forgive him for not staying in contact with you. We hope you’ll give him a chance to explain and abandon the idea of having a life without him. Alex will understand. Paxton’s his cousin; he won’t stand between him and his mate.”

Well, Bree suspected he was wrong there. “Sorry, I can’t do what you’re asking. Honestly, I’m not convinced that Paxton is back. But if he is, I hope he hasn’t come for me—he’ll be wasting his time. I want nothing to do with him. I never did.”

“You don’t mean that,” said Bernadette, her face falling.

“Yeah, I do,” Bree stated. “Be blind to the truth if you want, but your son was not normal. I would never have been safe with him. He didn’t care for me.”

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