Bear Meets Girl (Pride #7)(50)

“I do.”
He smirked. “Wait. How’d ya know I dumped them?”
“You don’t like trash in your house. Especially with Lola there.”
“Admit it. You like Lola.”
“Don’t I have enough dogs in my life at the moment?”
“If you say so.” Crush gave a small jerk of his head. “Come here.”
“Why?”
“Because I told you to.”
“Oooh.” She stepped closer to him. “I like it when you’re all demanding and bossy. Maybe you can handcuff me later.”
“You ladies all say that, but then when I go for it—you all panic.”
“Such a lack of faith.”
“Now get your ass up here and kiss me.”
Cella went up on her toes and Crush came down a bit until their lips touched. She realized she kind of melted into that kiss, her body resting against his, her hands reaching up and gripping his biceps. Big arms slipped around her waist, pulling her in close. They kissed and clung to each other in Van Holtz’s living room until they both realized that they were no longer alone. Pulling away, they looked over at the archway. Smith and MacDermot stood there, both eating bacon, both watching them.
It was the bacon that, for some reason, made it all ... weird.
The She-lion, Cosworth, pushed back from the table and stood up, glaring down at Crush.
“Your foster mother is Peg Baissier?”
Crush, after tearing off the fat and handing the meat of the bacon to Malone, said, “Yeah.”
“And you didn’t tell us this before because ...”
Now chewing said bacon fat, “Because I haven’t lived with the woman in more than twenty years?”
“I don’t care if you haven’t lived with her for five thousand years.”
Crush frowned. “But then we’d be dead and most likely not having this conversation. Unless, of course, we were time travelers.”
Smith chuckled. “I do love me some bear logic.”
“What I’m trying to say,” Cosworth growled while cutting a lethal glare at Smith, “is that perhaps you’re actually working for Baissier.”
“That’s a possibility. Although the firing back and hitting the target might make me not so welcome at the annual Christmas party. Plus ... Baissier hates me.”
“But your brothers work for her.”
“So?”
“And you’re all triplets.”
“So?”
Cella placed her elbow on the table and her chin on her raised fist.
“Isn’t there a bond or something between triplets?” Cosworth demanded.
“Oh! You mean like when one of my brothers burns his hand and the other two feel it?”
“Yeah!”
“No. That doesn’t happen.”
Cella and Smith snorted, both quickly looking away while Cosworth’s golden feline eyes narrowed.
“Calmly,” Gentry warned, tapping her forefinger on the table. “You don’t want me breaking out in a five-hundred-pound, seven-foot panic.”“All I’m asking,” and he could almost hear that Cosworth wanted to add something like “troglodyte” in there somewhere but was too afraid of Gentry, “is whether you can be trusted?”
“I don’t know if you can ask me that.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’m sure even a sociopath would think they can be trusted. Or if I’m delusional, I wouldn’t know I was delusional and I may think I can be trusted when in fact, I can’t, because I’m delusional.”
“You’re delusional?”
“No.” Crush pointed at her, thoroughly enjoying their discourse. “But if I were delusional, I wouldn’t know that I was delusional.” He grinned, believing his point made. “Because I would be delusional.”
Crush, proud of himself, sat back. A good thing since if he hadn’t, he would have had that She-lion’s claws around his throat, her spit-filled roar splattering his face. Thankfully, Cella and the little lynx grabbed their boss and dragged her out of the kitchen.
“We’ll be right back!” Cella said, yanking the struggling female out with her.
Crush looked around at the sow, wolves, and full-human staring at him. “I thought I made some very valid points.”
The She-wolf shrugged. “Sounded like it to me.”
MacDermot nodded. “I thought so, too. And can I just say ... I love that you’re my partner now. Because you are actually more annoying than I am. And I’m annoying.” She grinned. “And the best part? You’re not even trying to be!”
“And he’s the one you’re fucking?” Cosworth demanded, pacing back and forth outside Van Holtz’s front door.
“You’ve gotta admit he’s cute.”
Nina nodded. “Very cute. I love polar bear eyes. All black and mysterious.”
Cosworth faced them, hands in their faces, snarling. But before she could light into them, her cell phone—thankfully—went off. She glanced at it. “It’s Löwe.”
Cella’s boss’s boss’s boss. Heh.
“Why don’t you deal with that and we’ll finish up here,” Nina suggested in her best innocent voice. It was why she was management and wasn’t even thirty-five yet.
Cosworth was debating that when her unanswered phone went off again. Gritting her teeth, she ordered, “Whatever you do, rein this shit in. Understand?”
“Absolutely,” Nina promised.
They waited until Cosworth was on the elevator and the doors had closed, then Nina looked at her. Cella expected a little bit of a strategy discussion, but instead her boss said, “Your boyfriend is so cute.” 
“He’s not my boyfriend. He’s my pretend boyfriend.”
“Why?”
“It annoys him.”
Nina, heading back to the penthouse, shook her head. “You are such a feline, Malone.”
Once the cats were back, thankfully without the cranky She-lion, Crush handed over a plate of fat-reduced bacon to Malone. She smiled, winked at him, and began eating.
“What is with you and the fat?” Nina asked him.
“Polar bears mostly eat fat rather than actual meat,” Dez offered. When everyone stared, “I was watching Animal Planet last night.”
“Anyway,” the little lynx said, crossing her eyes, “I don’t care what I just told Cosworth to keep the She-lion roaring to a minimum. We need to put a stop to Baissier and we need to do it now. She is out of control.”
“I agree.” Van Holtz shook his head. “But we can’t kill her.”
“And why is that again?” Dez asked.
“Because we can’t prove she’s done anything wrong and she still has enough clout to at least get the benefit of the doubt. And trust me when I say we don’t want to go head-to-head with bears.”
Crush pushed his half-eaten plate of bacon fat away. “I’m telling you, though, she wouldn’t go after Whitlan unless he had something on her. Something besides his word. Because she could discredit him on that shit in two seconds.”
“Then how do we deal with this?” Cella asked.
The She-wolf raised those cold, dog eyes. “Leave it to me.”
Van Holtz looked at his mate. “Dee-Ann ...”
“If he’s alive, I’ll find him. That’s what I do. Besides, I got this far.”
“Be careful,” Crush warned her. “Baissier hates wolves.”
“Darlin’, I’m always careful.”
“What about you, Crushek?” Gentry asked.
“What about me?”
“She attacked you in your home. You can’t go back.”
“Ever? I just bought that house.”
Gentry sighed, looking at Van Holtz.
“I think what Chief Gentry means is you should go someplace safe for the time being. I can arrange something until we sort this all out.”
“Yeah ... great.”
“What about Malone?” the She-wolf asked.
“What about me?”
“You and the bear are fuckin’.”
“Aw, baby, now don’t be jealous. You’re just a little too butch for me.”
“I think,” Crush cut in before the two She-predators could get into it, “she means that Baissier probably already knows about us, which means she might come at me through you. Or even your family.”
Cella and the lynx looked at each other and started giggling.
“Oh,” Cella said when no one joined in. “You’re serious.”
“It’s best to take precautions,” Van Holtz suggested.
Crush pushed away from the table and stood, taking Cella’s hand. “Could you excuse us for a minute?”
He walked out, Cella with him, stopping when they reached the living room again.
“Baissier’s desperate,” he reminded Cella.
“I know she is.”
“Well, I don’t want you or your family to get caught in the middle of that.”
“Don’t worry about my family. The Malones can take care of their own.”
“What about Meghan? Josie?”
“Archangel Gabriel couldn’t touch them, much less some overwrought bear.” She reached up, pressing her palm to the side of his face. “But to ensure their safety, I’ll crash somewhere else. The family will protect Meg and Josie. I can take care of myself.”“You’ll crash with me.”
“At a Motel Hell off the turnpike? I’d rather live in an alley.”
“I think,” Smith said from the archway, “we can do a tad better than that so as not to hurt your feline sensibilities, Malone.”