The Mane Event. Shelly Laurenston

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      Is it actually wrong to toss a woman onto a restaurant table and fuck her senseless? Probably.

      Mace sighed and continued to stare at the lovely Detective First Grade Desiree MacDermot. Dez who always made him smile. Always made him hard. Always made him crazy.

      Still made him crazy. With those gray eyes, those amazing breasts,…and that voice. That fucking voice still made him sweat.

      He found her so distracting he completely overlooked the fact he’d spent the last three hours in the company of wolves. Owned and operated by the Van Holtz Pack, the Van Holtz restaurant chain had the best prime rib Mace had ever tasted. In retrospect, he was glad Smitty joined them. Smitty had actually been able to keep the wolves at bay and away from him. They clearly didn’t like having Mace in their space, although all the Van Holtz restaurants were supposed to be neutral territory. Mace guessed that only applied to other Packs and not Pride.

      It amazed him what he would willingly put up with for this frustrating and beautiful woman.

      “What I’m not quite clear on, Dez, is how you didn’t actually notice your husband moved out.”

      “Ex-husband. And I had a lot going on at the time. It was my first big case. A lot was riding on it. It just took me a while to realize he’d left.”

      “What’s a while?”

      She held the coffee cup between her hands and stared at it. “Three weeks.”

      Mace leaned forward and waited until she looked him in the eye. “You noticed after three weeks or he told you after three weeks?”

      When she didn’t answer but went back to staring at her coffee cup, he couldn’t help himself. He laughed. Loud.

      She glanced around as the entire attention of the restaurant turned toward them.

      “Christ, would you keep it down? I’m not exactly proud of this.”

      “Sounds to me like he was boring and selfish and you should be glad the asshole is gone. I know I am.”

      She smirked and a blush spread across her cheeks. He liked that he could make a tough city cop blush.

      She glanced up, clearly ready to change the subject. “Where did the redneck go?”

      “I don’t know. He does keep disappearing, doesn’t he?” And that’s why he’s family.

      “We should probably check the ladies’ room.”

      Mace grinned. “Probably. Smitty’s always had an easy time with women.”

      “Oh, and I’m sure you have a real struggle with women, Mace. I bet they ignore you and treat you like you don’t even exist.”

      He smirked at her. “Only one does that.”

      She put down her coffee and ran her hands through her hair. She’d been doing that more and more as the night wore on. “I know you exist, Mace. Trust me. I know. But you forget, I was in the military. I know exactly what you scumbags get up to. Sorry if I’m not blindly diving into the deep end of that pool.”

      “So, you think I just want—”

      “To screw the one girl you didn’t? Yeah. That’s what I think.”

      “Then you don’t think much of me.”

      “I didn’t say that. But you are a guy, Mace. A Llewellyn, true. But still a guy.”

      “Which means what?”

      “Well, I did read that testosterone causes brain damage.”

      Mace snorted out a laugh as Smitty, reeking of some wolf female, sat back down at the table.

      “What did I miss?”

      “Dez was telling me how all men are mentally handicapped.”

      “I didn’t say that,” she corrected with a condescending smile. “I merely said that you all have”—she made air quotes with her hands—“‘special needs.’ The reality is you guys really can’t think past that thing between your legs.”

      “Damn, girl.” Smitty wasn’t used to women not immediately bowled over by his charm. “That is mighty harsh, darlin’. Lumping us in with any-ol’-body.”

      “Really?” Dez picked her coffee back up.

      “Yes. Really. Mace is a good guy. One of the best. And I am a caring, sensitive male that has many, many layers. Don’t let this tough, manly exterior fool you. There’s so much about me you’ll never understand.”

      Dez swallowed a mouthful of coffee. “You have a hickey on your neck.”