Bear Meets Girl (Pride #7)(48)

“Okay.”
“I went once. For vacation, not a job. Hung out with the dingoes.”
“Full dingoes or—”
“Shifter dingoes.” She nodded. “They were fun.”
She pressed both her hands to his chest, fingers stroking. “Maybe we can go out sometime.”
“What do you mean go out?”
“You know ... out.” She unleashed her claws, kneading his chest. “Like a date out.”
Crush closed his eyes, his entire body tightening. Lips pressed against his throat, fangs grazed the tendons.
“Is that a yes?”
“Huh?”
“All that groaning you’re doing, I was wondering if that was a ‘yes, let’s have an eventual date.’ ”
“That depends.”
“On what?”
He gripped her shoulders and rolled until she was flat on her back and he was between her legs. The damn ice pack long forgotten.
“Am I going as your date or your pretend date?”
She brought her hands up, dug her claws into his scalp, scratching him right at the base of his neck—which felt fucking awesome!
“Real date,” she promised. “But still pretend boyfriend.”
Crush grinned. The feline would always be difficult, wouldn’t she?
“I can live with that.”
“Good. Now where’s the rest of those condoms?”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Cella turned over, burrowing closer to Crushek, the sun coming in through the windows annoying her. But the bear tensed beneath her and when he moved, so did she. Both of them pulled their weapons at the same time, hers from under her pillow, aiming it at the foot of the bed.
Cella blinked at the man standing quietly at the end of the bed. “Mario?”
“Morning, Miss Malone.”
She nodded. “Right.” She pressed her hand to Crush’s forearm so that he’d lower his weapon. “I’ve gotta go. I’m being called in.”
“Are you going to be okay?”
“I’ll be fine.” She kissed him. “I’ll call you later.”
“Okay.”
She tossed off the covers, but heard the bear growl. She motioned Mario away with a jerk of her head.
“Jealous already?” she asked after the driver left, teasing just a little.
But Crush’s answer was deadly serious. “Yes.”
She laughed, kissed him again. “Later.”
“Yeah. Be careful.”
Crush watched from his window as the Town Car pulled away from the front of his house and turned the corner at the end of his street. After that, he went back to bed to get some actual sleep, loving that Cella’s scent was still all over his sheets and him.
But then, an hour later, a new scent filled his room. A scent he didn’t much like that had him reaching for his .45. He had his hand around the holster when Chazz brought his fist down on Crush’s hand.
Crush roared in pain and anger and, naked, charged his brother, tackling him to the floor. He had him pinned when Gray grabbed him from behind. Crush brought his elbow back, ramming Gray in the throat and his fist in Chazz’s mouth again. Then he stood, grabbing both his brothers around their necks and lifting them to their feet. He slammed their heads together, knocking them out, and dropped them.“Now, now.”
Crush looked up at the six grizzlies coming through his doorway, one of them the big one from that day in the Group offices. “Is that any way for brothers to act?”
Cella walked into the Queens office building that housed the KZS offices. And as soon as she stepped inside, her boss latched on to her arm and dragged her toward the elevators.
“What the fuck happened?” Nina Bugliosi demanded. As usual, the lynx was demurely dressed in a bright green, mini-skirted power suit with a strand of black pearls around her neck and matching earrings.
“They shot at us first.”
“Are you sure? You sure Smith didn’t do something?”
“What, we’re blaming her now for everything?”
“Canines can’t be trusted.”
“You get slapped around by one coyote in grade school and allll canines can’t be trusted?”
“The bitch sucker punched me and that’s not the point.”
“We’re not blaming Smith or the Group for something they didn’t do. It was the bears.”
The lynx looked Cella over before tartly replying, “I thought you were all about the bears.”
“Huh?”
“You and the bears. Heard you were fucking one.”
“Amazing how that’s not your business.”
The elevator doors opened, but before Cella could walk out, her boss shut the doors and hit the “Stop” button.
“What are you doing?” Cella snapped, thinking about how close her nose had come to getting cut off.
“You’re not going to tell me about who you’re fucking?”
“It’s private.”
“Since when, Malone?”
“Since I said so. Besides, aren’t we in the middle of a crisis? Aren’t you supposed to be handling that?”
“I’m your boss, Malone. You have to tell me.”
“Or we could shift right here and four-hundred-pound me can slap around one-hundred-pound you.” Because that was something Cella could get away with. Breaking her boss’s nose while human ... well, that would get her written up.
“Fine,” Nina snapped. “Be that way.”
Nina released Cella from the temporary hostage situation, but they’d only taken two steps away from the elevator when they were both dragged back inside by Nina’s She-lion boss, Gemma Cosworth. Or, as the rest of the “ghetto cats” liked to call her, Her Ladyship the Duchess Cosworth. Because she, like all lions it seemed, thought all other cats were beneath her.
“Well,” the older feline snarled at Cella, “you’ve fucked this up royally, sewer cat.” 
Cella raised her hands, palms up. “How is this all my fault?”
“It is until I decide it’s not. And if I find out you snuck up behind even one of those bears ...”
“There was no sneaking. We walked out on the roof. Smith said, ‘Hey, y’all,’ and they opened fire on us.”
“Where are we going?” Nina asked, glancing at her watch. “I have a lunch date this afternoon.” When Cosworth only stared at her, the much-smaller woman quickly added, “Which I, of course, will cancel.”
Crush walked into the Manhattan annex office of BPC and threw his still unconscious brothers to the floor. He knew she’d be here. Knew this was where she’d come during a time of crisis, when the organization was under threat. And she’d leave her little “soldiers” to man the main Brooklyn offices. Or, as Crush liked to call them, her “meat puppets.”
“You wanted to see me?” he asked of the polar sow sitting at the desk.
She looked at the bears on the floor, then up at Crush. “I sent six other—”
“They’re in the Dumpster outside my favorite coffee place.” He shrugged. “You know me and coffee.”
“Yes. I remember.” She gave a little laugh. “Did you kill them?”
“Didn’t have to.”
“Well, you certainly haven’t changed.”
“And I don’t plan to start now.”
“Still,” she gestured to one of the chairs in front of her desk, “sit. Tell me how things have been going. How have you been doing?”
Crush dropped into the chair across from Peg Baissier. “I’ve been just fine. And you?”
Thirty-four years. It had been thirty-four years since Baissier had taken in Crush and his two brothers. And, in the beginning, he’d fallen in line just like all the others before him. It wasn’t hard. So young and yet learning to fight like in the martial arts movies. But when Crush had turned twelve, he’d found out what Baissier had gone out of her way not to tell them. That his parents had worked for her. Had died carrying out her orders. It wasn’t that they were soldiers that bothered him; it was that Baissier hadn’t told him. She’d hidden it like so many other things she’d hidden. And Crush, curious bear that he was, had looked into it. After school, instead of heading home for more training, he’d become friends with wolves, coyotes, foxes. He’d learned to break and enter, to hot-wire cars, to snoop, to steal. Then, once he had the skills down, he’d put them to use not breaking the law but finding out what his parents had done and how they’d died. By the time he was sixteen, he knew more than he’d ever wanted to know about his parents, about Baissier, about all of it. But he finally knew the truth.
At the time, Baissier had no idea. Instead, she thought he was just being a hardheaded kid. She made it plain she didn’t like him, always calling him “the contrary one.” Or “Mr. Difficult,” because he questioned everything and refused to play along—with anything. If, in the middle of August, she said it was hot outside, Crush went out in a fur jacket. If she said it was nighttime, he wore sunglasses. He mostly did it to piss her off, but he also did it to ensure that he never became what she wanted him to be. Another meat puppet to carry out her orders.
“What do you want?” he asked, already fed up at seeing her face.
“There was a big mess last night, eh? Glad to see you’re okay, though.”
“I’m not in the mood to play this game with you. What do you want?”
“Just wondered why you attacked my people.”“They attacked us first.”