Bear My Baby (Shifter Squad Six 1) (5 page)

The glare Adelaide gave her made Cassie giggle and take another sip, reconsidering her reflection.

Okay, okay. So maybe I’m a
little
hot.

Her hair was tucked away in neat curls that she could never control without someone working some serious magic on them. Adelaide had made her put on some makeup and it really lit up her face, making her smooth skin glow. She’d noticed that ever since having Monroe. Her skin had gotten so much clearer and she’d felt better in her body when she wasn’t busy hiding behind a modicum of false modesty.

Not that she’d ever disliked her curves. Motherhood had given them that last bit of oomph that had been missing before, making everything look so much lusher. And she figured it was also the sense of purpose she got as a mother. Feeling like that body of hers was made for
something
, not just being ogled at by men.

Though that was nice too, on occasion.

“I think we can go now. We’ve been here for hours,” Adelaide said with a flourish, standing up and grabbing her little Chanel flap bag.

She was tall and statuesque. Skinny but curvy and with the kind of blue eyes that really drew men in, she couldn’t have been any different from Cassie. But Cassie felt perfectly comfortable next to her gorgeous friend. And she was willing to bet that she was going to draw as much attention that night as her model-shaped friend.

“Are you sure I can leave Monroe with Amanda? I don’t want to impose on her,” Cassie said, stalking after Adelaide out of her big bedroom.

“Are you kidding me? Amanda
loves
Monroe, don’t you?” Adelaide asked, stopping at the front door to squeeze into some black pumps. Cassie followed her lead.

Her feet were objecting before she could even really get them on.

The things I do for one night on the town,
Cassie thought, gritting her teeth a little.

It had been far too long since she’d really worn heels.

“Of course I do. He’s an angel!” Amanda cooed, carrying Monroe on her hip to the front door so Cassie could say goodbye.

Her heart ached. She’d rarely left him in anyone else’s care, and even then it had been because she’d needed to grab a doctor’s appointment or one of her clients wanted to meet face-to-face. Writing technical documentation near Silicon Valley and moonlighting as a freelance copywriter was bringing in enough to live comfortably, but it also meant that she got to stay home a lot and the mommy-baby bond was as strong as it could be.

She leaned in and kissed Monroe on the cheeks, his chubby face lighting up with glee and his light blue eyes shining like gems.

He looks so much like Connor every day,
the treacherous voice told her in her head.

The same damn one that had been completely hushed when she’d thrown herself into a night of wild passion with the ex-Navy SEAL without a moment of hesitation. Cassie swallowed that thought bitterly and smiled.

“Be a good boy for Amanda, baby, okay?”

“Bye, Mama,” he said, smiling that little kid smile that could brighten up the whole room.

“If anything happens, please call me. I’ll have my cellphone on me the whole time, okay?” Cassie said, looking at Amanda pleadingly.

“Oh my God, we’re going out for drinks, not to scale the Everest for six months. Though if I find a guy named Everest, I’m totally going to have to climb him. Come on!” Adelaide whined, tugging Cassie out through the front door.

Cassie wasn’t even sure if she knew how to have a good time that didn’t involve watching
Scandal
or finger painting with Monroe anymore. But by the looks of Adelaide, she was more than determined to teach Cassie all the things she had so willingly forgotten.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Connor

Connor smacked his lips, kicking back the next tequila shot and feeling the burning heat of it trickle down his throat. It tasted like a good night, and sort of like regret. But he didn’t focus on the latter, just raised his hand and called for another round.

“Whoa there, lieutenant. Some of us have to work tomorrow,” Thatch said, chuckling.

“I can only count one unlucky fucker like that at the table, and his opinion doesn’t matter,” Tex announced grimly, giving his brother a look and a smirk.

“Shouldn’t whore yourself out like that, Thatch. You know those Squad Eight guys are a bunch of failures in camo. Nothing good’s ever come out of the infantry,” Connor said, kicking back in the wooden chair and observing his surroundings.

Not everyone in The Firm were SEALs and to Squad Six’s great chagrin, the company kept adding in squads whose sole purpose seemed to be getting a rise out of them.

An empty beer bottle cap flew his way and he caught it mid-flight, flipping it over between his fingers a moment later while continuing his absent-minded recon. It was the night after another mission that had brought nothing but a few additional bruises and a couple of extra thousand in his bank account, and as per usual, that meant that they’d be sitting down with the squad and letting loose.

Dutch had been the first one to bail about an hour ago, but Connor didn’t even need to guess to know that he’d picked up some hot redhead at the bar and that had to account for his sudden disappearance. Grant and Grim had followed suit. Last Connor had seen, both of them had been carting out a matching set of blondes and those ladies were probably having the time of their lives in the capable hands of the werecougar twins.

So that left him, Thatch, and Tex at the upscale joint in San Francisco, sticking out like sore thumbs in a sea of yuppies and techies. It was hard to miss them. Every one of them took up at least twice the space as any other man in the place and they all had that air about them that screamed military. Discipline, strength, but most importantly… flat abs.

Connor could count at least five sets of eyes on every one of them as they enjoyed their drinks. Women who would be more than willing to come home with them, or steal a moment in a sideways alleyway. But he wasn’t feeling that. In fact, it had been a long while since he’d shown any interest at all in a woman. That was more than unusual for him, seeing as he was usually the first guy who called it a night, then continuing his evening with a hot piece of curvy ass.

But here he was, completely uninterested in anything but drinking with his crew. Still, his eyes roamed around, as if looking for someone.

“I need the cash,” Thatch said mildly, with that tone of voice that said that he didn’t want any questions about it.

Connor shared a look with Thatch’s brother Tex and he shrugged, picking the shot glasses off the waitress’s tray. She’d appeared as soon as Connor had called for new drinks, like she’d been waiting for a chance to dazzle them with her presence. Connor had no doubt that she’d been keeping one eye on their table all night. Must have been the dog tags that did her in.

“I guess it’s getting late. I haven’t been around San Fran in years. Figured I’d go check out the old haunts over the free days, while this fucker here is working. We served some time around Alameda, so this here feels like home, almost,” Tex said, clinking his glass against those of Connor and Thatch. “
Salut
.”

“
Salut
,” Connor echoed, looking like the only guy at the table who was drinking to forget.

As soon as their shot glasses hit the table, Tex and Thatch were on their feet. They gave Connor a leisurely salute, one that Connor matched with equal enthusiasm.

“You staying, lieutenant?” Thatch asked, grabbing his leather jacket and throwing it over his shoulders.

He might have been the communications guy on the squad but he didn’t give them an inch of leeway in anything physical. Looking at him, one would think that Thatch was just a regular knucklehead, but Connor and the rest of his squad did nothing to dispel that myth usually. It worked in their favor to be looked at as some thick, dumb meatheads. Easier to win if your opposition constantly underestimates you.

“I think I’ll do another round or two, yeah. I’ll be out in a few. See you at the drop on Thursday,” he said, giving a half-hearted grin.

Connor didn’t miss the look the Crawley brothers shared amongst themselves before giving him a nod and stalking off like gladiators come to life. Connor watched them retreat through the teeming throng of people, reaching for his almost-stale beer and taking a sip. It washed down the bitterness of the shot, but he knew he wanted another. Or maybe three.

One eye on the crowd, he waved at the brunette waitress who was working way too hard to get his attention. The first time she bent over and showed him her perfect ass he’d written it off as clumsiness, but the third time was pretty much the human equivalent of humping someone’s leg. Some time ago, shit like that would have gotten his engines revving harder than anything. To see a woman want it so bad and willing to work for it was a turn-on like no other. These days though? Didn’t do a thing for him.

She leaned in closer to him, setting a shot glass in front of him and cleaning up the others.

“Anything else I could get you, babe?” she asked, batting her long lashes.

He was about to bark something at her when he noticed her eyes. They gave him pause, and it was only when she frowned a little, marring the delicate lines of her painted-on face, that he stirred from his reverie. Her eyes looked like someone else’s… someone he’d been trying to drink away ever since that night in Chicago.

“No, not now. Thanks,” he said, giving her a smirk that made her brighten up like a Christmas tree.

He knew what he’d done. He’d given her hope. He wasn’t supposed to do that, but she had those eyes that made him think that maybe he wasn’t going to go home alone that night. If for no other reason than to stare into her hazel depths and imagine she was someone entirely different.

“Call me if you need
anything
,” she purred, sauntering off with enough hip wiggle to throw the damn planet off its axis.

Connor couldn’t lie; he watched her leave. But it barely moved him.

With a grunt, he put his fingers around a glass and twirled it around on the wooden top of the table, eyeing the crowd around him. Years of training, the kind of training they drilled into his very being and made so much a part of him that he had to think that there was never a time when he
wasn’t
like that, kept him noticing all the little things.

Like the way that pudgy short guy kept brushing his hand through his hair, trying to hide his insecurity about his receding hairline. Or the way the three girls at the bar were giggling as loud as they could, trying to attract someone to buy them a drink and give them that sliver of attention they starved for.

Or the way that breathtaking brunette slid through the throng of people, looking more than uncomfortable following in her friend’s footsteps. She looked like she would rather be anywhere else, and a blaze of heat pounded into Connor’s gut suddenly.

It hit him before he realized who he was looking at. His mouth fell open and he almost fell off his damn chair, leaning so far back while trying to catch one last glimpse of the graceful arch of her neck and those strands of curls that fell on her chocolate skin so perfectly.

Cassie.

Just thinking of that name made his universe turn upside down and his heart drop into his boot. His bear practically roared, bringing a growl to Connor’s throat that was only drowned out by the deafening noise at the bar. Connor grabbed the shot off the table and downed it, fishing for a stack of cash from his pockets with his other hand and throwing it on the table.

Finally, a game worth playing and prey worth stalking.

He got up, tentatively testing his body as he strode into the throng writhing in the middle of the bar, dancing to some tune that sounded like bass on bass to him. There was a literal hole in his thigh that was still healing from a lucky bullet wound, and his arms were bruised from his wrists to his elbows from scrambling over a stone wall that no man should have been able to reach the top of. He’d gone over it three times during the course of a thirty-minute mission in the middle of a nameless jungle.

The alcohol softened his step a bit, but cleared his mind. Sharp eyes searched for that body he hungered for and that dazzling smile that could bring him to the knees like no foe ever could. He disappeared into the moving sea of bodies like he belonged there and suddenly, he didn’t stand out. Another bit of his training. He could be seen when he wanted to be seen, and shrink into the background when needed.

Right now, he didn’t know what he wanted other than to fucking find her.

The fuck’s she doing here?
he thought, gritting his teeth as the search took more time than he wanted it to.

Connor pushed some bro out of his way roughly, garnering a “Hey, what the fuck man?!” from the knucklehead. One glare in his direction made the wannabe fighter fold back onto himself and mutter some annoyed half-curse under his breath.

Yeah, I fucking thought so.

No one wanted to mess with a bear with murder in his eyes.

Finally, he spotted her at the smaller bar toward the back, waiting patiently in line for her drink. He disappeared under the dark shadow of a staircase leading to the second floor, leaning against the wall and studying her. That red dress hugged every curve perfectly and he was getting hard just by looking at her standing there, casually having a conversation with that bombshell blonde she had come in with.

But Connor didn’t have any eyes for the blonde. Cassie took every bit of his attention, consuming his mind and his body. She looked even better than he remembered, and he’d been imagining her face and her body every day since the last time he saw her. She seemed to be glowing. Not exactly happy, but somehow at peace with herself. And that thick body of hers had gotten even more inviting, made to be squeezed and kneaded by strong fingers.

His hands were in fists, shaking a little from the strain of keeping himself from running over to her. He knew he couldn’t. He knew he shouldn’t. And he fucking well knew that he was probably going to anyway.