Bear Meets Girl
Page 8

Im still not clear on why you think youre dying.
BecauseCella rubbed her forehead, still hungover and beginning to panicwhen the Malones come at ya, and are nice ... someones dying!
After dinner with his team to celebrate another devastating loss to shifters in the Long Island Fire Department, Crush got home, tossed his equipment and clothes into a corner, and took a quick shower. Once clean, he sat on his bed, a towel around his waist, his sidearm within easy reach. He shook his hair out to dry it before dropping back on the bed, letting out a breath, and smiling.
Hello, sexy, he said. You lucked out tonight. No other females to keep me from you. He crooked a finger. Now come over here and keep me company.
Lola moved in, snuggling up against his side. At least tomorrow morning Crush wouldnt be waking up with any unknown felines wrapped around him. It was kind of a relief really ... while at the same time strangely disappointing.
Dont drool on me tonight, he warned Lola, the English Bulldog. You know I hate that.
She snorted, as always completely ignoring what hed just told her, and rolled to her back, belly exposed. Like most animals, Lola knew what Crush was, but she trusted him. Knew hed never hurt her.
With Crush rubbing her pink-and-white exposed belly, Lola fell asleep almost immediately, but it took Crush another hour, even though he was exhausted down to his bones. But he knew the following week his life would changeand he still wasnt happy about it.
CHAPTER THREE
After four solid days of waiting and not wanting to spend another dayor even worse, an entire weekendanticipating the anvil about to drop on his head, Crush went to his bosss office and stood silently in the mans doorway. Miller had his back to him, going through his files, when he suddenly tensed, his entire body going rigid. His reaction didnt shock Crush, though; the man had the same reaction every time the polar was around.
Slowly, Miller lifted his head and looked over his shoulder, then swallowed. Crushek.
Cap.
Uh, yeah ... He went to his desk, but didnt sit down. He never sat down around Crush. Instead, he always looked like he was about to make a run for it. Good luck with that. Crush was an incredibly fast runner. Great swimmer, too.
Youve been transferred.
So I heard.
Sorry about the delay. I was just waiting for the final paperwork to come in. And hed been working up the guts, too. Wuss.
Already knowing the answer, Crush still asked, And Conway?
Stays here.
The captain picked up a folder from his desk and handed it over to Crush. His hand shook.
Crush didnt take the folder, simply looked at it and back at his captain.
The ... the transfer is effective immediatelyand the man looked relieved by thatso feel free to, um ... go.
I think we should discuss
This isnt up for discussion, Crushek. Its from the top. You gotta beef, take it up with them. Just leave your case notes and Conway will take care of the rest.
The captain sounded tough until Crush growled a little. He couldnt help it. He was annoyed. Really, truly annoyed.
The captain looked moments from shitting himself right then, but Crush took the folder before he had to see that.
Yet, before walking out, Crush still chuffed. A big one, the power of it sending his ex-boss stumbling back a bit. It was a shit move, but still kind of satisfying.
Cella was doing pull-ups in the gym when her phone went off. She dropped to the ground and pulled it out of the pocket of the hoodie she had lying on the floor. Yeah? she said around the panting.
Its Smith.
Yeah?
You busy?
Working out. Home game tomorrow night.
So is that a yes or a no to my question?
What do you want, Smith?
Dee-Ann Smith was the She-wolf Cella had trained with when shed joined the shifter-only Marine Unit. And, at the time, shed hated her. But years later, after theyd been forced to work togetherSmith was part of the nationally based Group, an organization that protected all species and breedsthe wolf had managed to grow on her. Still, some days, Smith still got on Cellas last Irish nerve.
Meet me in Brooklyn.
When the wolf didnt give an address before disconnecting the call, Cella knew that Smith wanted to meet at the NYPD precinct in Brooklyn for the shifter division. Of course, the difficult She-wolf could have just said that.
Cella pulled on her hoodie, zipped it up, and grabbed a towel. She was heading for the stairs to the lower level of the gym, wiping sweat off her face, when a big male stepped in front of her, blocking her path.
Cella looked at the wolf in front of her, waiting for him to say something.
Darlin.
Hillbilly.
He grinned. Cella Malone, are you flirtin with me?
What dya want, Reed? Reece Lee Reed of the New York Smith Pack had made the hard-won leap from the minors to the majors back when theyd signed Bo Novikov. And the pair had been at each other ever since. Reed, the more personable of the two, had the loyalty of the team. Novikov, the more ruthless, had no problem beating the living shit out of Reed anytime the kid annoyed him. And Reed annoyed Novikov constantly. The grey wolf knew it, too. That was the thing about the Smith Pack wolves. They seemed to enjoy fucking with people as much as the felines did.