Bad Cat Baby Blues (Shifter Squad Six 3) (11 page)

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Authors: Anya Nowlan

Tags: #BBW, #Navy SEALs, #Military, #Forbidden Pregnancy, #Menage, #Action & Adventure, #Romance, #Shifters, #Paranormal, #Fiction, #Forever Love, #Adult, #Erotic, #Shifter, #Mate, #Suspense, #Violence, #Supernatural, #Protection, #Bachelor, #Single Woman, #Shifter Squad Six, #Werejaguar, #Interracial

BOOK: Bad Cat Baby Blues (Shifter Squad Six 3)
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Homey
, he mused darkly, taking the slip of paper out of his pocket that told him where to go.

Fourth floor, room 423 in the B wing. He gritted his teeth, crinkling the paper up and bundling it roughly into his back pocket. He made it to the stairwell and flew up the stairs, two at a time, his ears pricked. It was late in the evening and there seemed to be few people around. The ones he had seen looked much like he did—haunted was perhaps the best word.

The Firm seemed to attract a certain type, but Dutch had no doubt that this was not a coincidence. They were all hand-picked. No one got in without a personal invitation, and Dutch was sure that each and every one of them got a thorough background check to make sure that they had something in their past that could be used against them when needed. The Firm made a good show about hiding this little tidbit, but extortion and blackmail were not so easy to keep quiet in a group of former soldiers who tended to get a bit slack-tongued with enough scotch in their system.

Dutch didn’t mind though, not usually. He’d learned long ago that life was a series of unfortunate events that one simply had to weather through, and whatever he had done in the past would come to bite him in the ass sooner or later. He preferred to see it coming, to be perfectly honest, rather than have it sneak up on him in the form of some sort of PTSD.

He preferred the devil he knew, and as long as The Firm was made up of the most vile, hateful creatures on the face of the earth—aside from the people they were tasked to hunt down of course—Dutch could deal with it.

What did surprise him, though, was the ease with which things had gone down this time. There was no howling about protocol, no red tape or nonsense. He’d gotten in contact with his handler, who had referred him to Spade’s “office,” where a perfectly mild-sounding young lady had given him an address and a room and her best wishes after one short telephone call. It almost felt like they knew he was going to call, but that was bullshit, right?

How could they know that he’d be calling about time off? And why would he need to go anywhere to talk about it, let alone have it have anything to do with Spade’s office? No one would answer him about that, and a short chat with Connor confirmed what Dutch had guessed himself—when it came to Spade, it was best not to guess and do as he said, keeping the rabid dog at arm’s length until you found a big enough stick to hit him with. So Dutch had complied and here he was, the clock ticking toward ten and his questions still left unanswered.

Just see what he wants and get out of there. You’ll get your leave, you’ll find Carter, everything will be fucking dandy,
Dutch told himself as he rounded the corner and went down the hallway, reading the numbers on the doors, which were spaced wide apart.

Finally, he found 423. Dutch paused for a second, taking a long whiff at the air before knocking on the door. He frowned slightly, catching a note of something very familiar. It smelled like a good memory and it warmed him all over, sending little sparks of electricity shooting through him. But he couldn’t quite put his finger on what it was.

“Come in,” came a voice, muffled by the door.

Dutch shrugged to himself, putting the eerie feeling he got aside on account of his strung-up nerves, and stepped inside. He threw the door shut behind him and when he looked up, he froze in his tracks. The air went out of his lungs and for a second, he thought his vision would black out because his jaguar was so fucking hard at work trying to claw itself out of him before his human could react.

He couldn’t believe his eyes. His gaze raked over her body, taking in the lush swells of her curves, the way her curly hair set in a high ponytail nipped at her shoulders. His heart thudded loudly in his chest, so hard he was sure she had to be able to hear it, and her scent overwhelmed him. It was sweet but with a hint of spice to it, the tanginess of it somehow smelling stronger this time than what he remembered.

Ari looked amazing. Her body had become a bit softer, just the way he liked it. Her determined gaze was as strikingly green as it had been the first time he saw those eyes. Her attention was centered on pages of information she seemed to be flipping through in search of something. She was deep in concentration, her chin set and her brows furrowed. He saw the exact moment when she realized who was in the room with her when her nostrils flared for a moment as his scent hit her. For the briefest second, he could see the shimmer of pure gold in her eyes, which remained there as she whipped her head around and looked at him.

Her jaw fell slack and her pretty little mouth fell open in pure surprise. Her pupils widened as she wrestled the gold out of them to his slight disappointment, and she jumped up, her muscles rigid.

“What are you doing here?!” she asked.

There was something in her voice that scraped at his ears. Was it… fear? Dutch scowled, rolling his shoulders back and forcing some sense back into his body. He couldn’t just stare at her like she was the incarnation of an angel, could he? Though he sure as fuck wanted to.

“I could ask you the same,” he said, taking a step toward her.

She backed away twice as fast, almost throwing over the chair she’d been sitting on.

“What the fuck, Ariadne?” he asked, sounding maybe a bit too hurt. “I didn’t know you were going to be here. I got the address off of some clerk chick and was told to come here because of my time off request.”

She looked dubious, like she thought he was lying. He pulled his hands out of his pockets and he saw her flinch, legitimately fucking
flinch.
His skin crawled. Why the hell was she scared of him?

“Did… did
he
send you?” she asked after a moment that felt far too long, her eyes shimmering with the kind of confusion that his must have.

But he saw something else in them. A softness, a moment of recognition. Maybe of the same memories that hit him like a truck, flashes and glimpses of their night together, the deep scratches she’d left on his back that hadn’t healed for weeks and that he’d been sad to see go when they finally did, the way she’d purr when he’d kiss that spot on her neck…

Dutch’s cock strained against his pants but he shook his head, willing himself to clear his head. He scruffed a hand through his hair in frustration, a nervous tick he’d picked up from Connor.

“Him? Who do you mean?”

“Spade,” she said, and her voice was cold as ice, a perfect reflection of how he felt as well.

“I knew this had to have something to do with him,” Dutch spat, feeling his anger rise like a crimson tide. “What did he fucking do, Ari? Was he the reason why you fucking disappeared on me?” he demanded, walking to her and covering the ground in almost a pounce.

They were face-to-face now and she was so close he could touch her, backed up against a wall. But he kept space between them, not sure if he could keep himself at bay if she were any closer. Fuck, she smelled like
life
. It drove him wild, the big cat in him clawing at his insides, demanding he kiss her right that instant and make her his again like she had been that night.

But in her eyes, he didn’t see that girl he remembered from that night. At least not all of her. There was a hint of fear, a hint of uncertainty. And something hard, something beyond the jagged sense of self and unwavering competence that he’d sensed in that jungle. Just as badly as he wanted to kiss her, he wanted to wrap his arms around her and tell her that it would be okay. Whatever it was that was so fucked up, he could make it go away. That he could fix it.

But who was he to fix anything?

“I didn’t disappear on you,” she said after a moment that seemed to last a lifetime.

She slipped past him, leaving him staring at the wall for a second, unclenching his fists. He took a breath, turning to see her walk back to her desk in the dimly lit office space, unadorned and strictly professional as the rest of the building.

“No address, no trace of you, and a very quick exit from the service would leave me guessing otherwise,” Dutch commented, breathing in through his nose in an effort to still his pounding heart.

“Are you saying you looked for me, soldier?” Ari asked, showing him a glimpse of the teasing, maddening woman he remembered as she leaned against the table, her arms over her chest and her brow quirked.

“Fuck yes I did,” Dutch huffed, staying where he was.

He didn’t want to chase her around the damn office. Especially seeing as she was awfully determined on putting distance between them. By the way she was poised, he couldn’t help but think that she was expecting him to lunge at her, or try to figure out ways of taking him on, or to make it to the door before he could catch her. It was unsettling to say the least.

“Why?” she asked, and it felt like a knife to the fucking soul.

“Why?” he echoed, feeling his feet move of their own volition, making him pace. “That’s what you want to know now?
Why
I would want to find you after that night? I don’t know how you roll, commando-girl, but I don’t fuck and forget. I thought we had something there. Guess I was wrong.”

Seeing the sneer on her face when he said that took a chunk right out of him.

“Guess so.”

“Fine,” he spat, stopping mid-stride. “If that’s how it is, sure. I got the address from Spade’s office, yes. I was told to report here because I asked for leave to take care of a personal issue.”

“What personal issue?” she asked, perking up a bit.

“What’s it to you? You’re obviously not all that interested in anything
personal,
” he said, hearing the sting in his voice and being unable to keep it back.

He couldn’t believe he was behaving like this. Sure, they’d had one hot night, one
extremely
hot night, but he wasn’t the kind of guy to obsess over a woman like this. Or to be hurt when she showed no interest in reliving said fantastic evening. But something about her pushed every button with him and while she could play them right, she could apparently make him go off the rails just as easily.

“Hey, you’re the one that’s here needing something. I’m trying to figure out if they sent you here by mistake or if this is actually something up my alley,” Ari said, growling.

Her face got so damn pretty when she was pissed. It was completely and utterly un-fucking-fair.

“I need to find someone,” he said through gritted teeth.

It might have been in his imagination but he saw her get even stiffer, if that was possible, and he saw her finger twitch like she wanted to grab the gun on her hip. He was unarmed but he figured he could cross the ground and be on her by the time she could draw the weapon. With any luck, he could redirect the shot and make sure she missed anything vital. He had no doubt she’d be a killer of a shot.

Why the hell do I have to be thinking about this with her of all people?
Dutch asked himself, very much aware that he was feeling real sore about this whole situation.

“Who?”

“A kid named Carter Sawyer,” he said, deciding to be honest with her. The situation couldn’t get any worse anyway, and he doubted her knowing the name would change a damn thing.

“Carter Sawyer? Yeah, I know him. But why do you need to find him? What’s your clearance level?”

Confusion muddled his expression as he saw her body relax visibly, like he’d said the only right thing he’d uttered during the whole exchange just then.

“He’s a friend. And high enough to fucking be here. What do you know, Ari?”

She chewed her lip for a moment and it pained Dutch to watch it. He remembered that little bad habit of hers so well and it drove him nuts, dragging his attention to her perfect lips and how much he wanted to kiss them.

“I can’t just
give
you any information. I need to make a few calls, Dutch. This is official business.”

“I swear, Ari, I don’t give a flying fuck. I need to find this kid and I’m going to do it with or without your help. I came here because Connor told me I had to play nice. I think I’m done playing nice,” he snarled, his temper flaring like it never did.

He burst into movement, brushing past her on his way to the door, more than ready to drink or punch this night out of his memory, along with everything that had anything to do with Spade or Ari. She caught him by the arm at the last second, when his hand was already on the door handle. Her touch sent a fireball of need blazing through him, and it was everything he could do to keep from grabbing her, pinning her against the wall, and kissing that scowling look off her gorgeous face.

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