For Your Paws Only (Supernatural Enforcers Agency #2) Page 7

  He snorted. What a fucking joke. He smiled as he considered that taking that peacock home would rupture any chance he would have with the hedgehog shifter Cutter was lusting after.

  Huh, maybe he’d kill the hedgehog, too. Before he killed Cutter, just to make the fucker suffer. In the years he’d spent dreaming of the things he’d like to do to Cutter, he hadn’t factored in hurting his female. Might make it even more fun.

  “You coming, baby?” slurred his own female for the night.

  He turned back to watch her rubbing up and down against his car. He gave her an indulgent smile mixed with contempt. He gave one last look at Cutter, who was trying to get out the other side of the cab, and the peacock who was trying to grab onto his arm.

  “Yes, I am.”

  Chapter Six

  Wednesday

  Lucie felt butterflies fluttering in her stomach. Ten-pound, mutant butterflies by the feel of them. She was just a teeny bit nervous.

  Go big or go home. Well, maybe more like biggish.

  This probably wasn’t what Avery had in mind, but this was a gesture that was very her. She didn’t want to do something that was out of character; she wanted Cutter to love her just as she came. A somewhat cute, stubborn as nails, curvaceous hedgehog shifter.

  She had considered Isis’ suggestion of turning up in her birthday suit and giving him a sensual mauling. But she was ever so slightly concerned about a huge gust of wind blowing up her coat and giving everyone a free peep show. Perhaps, it was something they could try later – like for a one-year anniversary or something.

  For now, she needed to do this her way. So, she spent the previous evening baking his favorite treat - blueberry muffins. She assumed they were his favorite because every time he went to the coffee shop they were his choice du jour of sweet treats. Yeah, her stalking had finally paid off.

  She had arranged them all pretty-like in a basket and had specifically chosen a blue sundress that highlighted her eyes and accentuated her best assets. She giggled as she had a brief feeling of being Little Red Riding Hood, and Cutter playing the part of the Big Bad Wolf. Or maybe she’d be Little Blue Riding Hood. Either way.

  Her hedgehog snuffled and wrinkled her nose in excitement. Yep, this was it. She would lay her soul bare, tell him she loved him, and she would ask him once and for all if he could ever be with her. In about ten minutes, she was going to be very happy or very sad – but at least she will have tried. Then, she’d give it a week, come up with a new plan and try again!

  Lucie rapped on Cutter’s apartment door. The door swung open and… the smile froze on her face as a half-naked, young peacock shifter stood framed in the doorway. In Cutter's doorway! The girl’s expression was one of boredom and Lucie couldn’t fail to notice that she was wearing one of Cutter’s shirts.

  She felt sharp prickles at her heart as her hedgehog whined unhappily. Nope, this didn’t mean anything. Not, yet. There could be a perfectly reasonable explanation.

  “Uhh, hi, I thought this was Cutter’s place.”

  The girl shrugged. “It is.”

  Well, so much for hoping she just had the wrong door.

  “Are you his sister?”

  Maybe his parents had adopted her… yeah, that or she was grasping at straws.

  The peacock snorted. “No, sweetie, we just hooked up last night, he’s still in bed. Can I help you with something? Hey, are those muffins that I smell?”

  The girl grasped at the basket and Lucie, too stunned for action, let her take them away.

  “Yes,” Lucie murmured faintly, “I just came to drop off his… ah, order of muffins, enjoy.”

  “Mmmm, yummy, thank you.”

  The girl disappeared inside the apartment and slammed the door shut with her foot.

  Lucie was standing staring at the door for a couple of minutes before she closed her mouth and dejectedly dragged her feet all the way back to her car. Her beast was whimpering sadly, but Lucie was too stunned to commiserate.

  In the year she’d been stalking him, she’d never even seen him flirt with another woman, never mind dating or sleeping with one. That had given her hope. She knew he was attracted to her, but a real sign that a shifter had already chosen their mate was that they wouldn’t be able to have sex with another woman. She couldn’t bear the thought of another male touching her; she had hoped it was the same for him with women.

  Clearly, that hope had been misplaced. Who was to say how many other women he had been with? She hadn’t watched him every second of every day; he could have been with dozens of other women. All the while laughing at the silly hedgehog for chasing after him.

  It was like her heart was ripping apart, but she had to face the truth - he really didn’t feel the way she felt. The truth was… crushing. It shouldn’t be, but it was. He hadn’t made any promises to her; she had no right to expect him to be faithful to her, and yet, she had. The fact that he hadn’t been devastated her, and she couldn’t even be angry with him. Technically, he hadn’t even done anything wrong!

  Her lip trembled. No, she would not cry. This incident wasn’t worth her tears - it really wasn’t.

  Now, all she had to do was keep telling herself that over and over and maybe, eventually, she and her hedgehog would believe it.

  *

  Cutter growled awake, furious at himself for getting drunk. He hadn’t been blind, stinking drunk in over three years.

  Ugh, his head. It felt like a fucking elephant was bouncing up and down on him.

  His nose tickled at the unfamiliar scent of sandalwood. Yuck, the smell made him want to vomit. He tried to bury his head in his pillow but froze as he heard movement in the room, and the scent intensified.

  Who the fuck was that?

  “Finally, you’re awake,” sniffed a bored voice.

  His eyes snapped open, and he sat up in bed far too quickly. Pain lanced through his head, but he ignored it, choosing to focus on the peacock shifter sitting cross-legged on his bed and licking her fingers.

  He squinted at her as dribs and drabs of the previous night filtered through.

  He had a fifty-fifty shot. “Sharon?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Taryn.”

  He nodded but finding out just which twin she was didn’t explain how she had made it to his apartment, and why she was wearing his favorite Johnny Cash, Folsom Prison t-shirt. He looked over his own body and was relieved to find that he was still wearing all his clothes from the previous night.

  Cutter rubbed his forehead, ignoring the annoyed grunts of his wolf. “What are you doing here?” he asked trying to sound as neutral as possible, and not show the fury that was bubbling inside him.

  Even in the days when he did have casual sex, he didn’t invite women back to his place. This was his den; he liked his privacy. He wanted to tell her to get the fuck out of his apartment, but he wasn’t an ogre. Well… he wasn’t a total ogre.

  “Don’t you remember?” she asked, mockingly.

  “Obviously not,” he ground out, fisting the covers. He needed to busy his hands, or they might find their way around her neck to throttle the smug look off her face.

  Taryn started munching on a muffin; in between bites she said, “You were drunk off your ass, so I brought you home.”

  Try as he might, he couldn’t recall being dragged home by Taryn at all. Lord, what else didn’t he remember?! He was almost as agitated as his braying wolf.

  “We didn’t fuck, did we?” he choked out.

  Taryn gave him a look of disbelief. “No, and if we had, you would have remembered me.” She preened for a second and Cutter fought the urge to vomit. “You were practically in a coma by the time we got here, and you kept moaning the name Lacey or something – that was definitely not a turn on.”

  Cutter exhaled a long breath and lay back on the bed. “Thank fucking hell.”

  “Thanks a bunch,” she grumbled, sarcastically.

  His wolf yipped in relieved joy. He didn’t think he could have gotten it up for th
e young peacock shifter, but he had to be sure. If he was finally being honest, his desire for other women had died the day he met Lucie. Other women left him limp, but just the thought of Lucie doing anything mundane like scratching her nose sent blood rushing to his groin with the ferocity of a tidal wave. At that, his manhood stirred, and Cutter silently groaned. Not now, you insatiable fucker, he thought. His dick really did have a mind of its own.

  “It’s not you; it’s me,” he muttered half-heartedly. “Why are you wearing my shirt? I don’t see why you needed to get undressed,” he griped, eyeing her half-naked form with irritation.

  “That’s all thanks to your buddy, Dale. He decided we should reenact the wet t-shirt contest and threw beer all over Sharon and me. Anyway, I’m gonna use your shower and then you’re gonna give me money to reimburse me for the cab last night and the cab I’m gonna take to get home this morning, and given that your friend ruined my clothes, I’m taking some of yours.”

  “Fine, yes, whatever.”

  She could have his fricking TV at that moment, and he wouldn’t give a shit. He just wanted her gone.

  “Why didn’t you just leave last night?” And save him the hassle of dealing with her.

  “I ran out of money and there wasn’t any in your wallet; I tried searching your apartment, but I couldn’t find any. I found some really out of date condoms, though. Guess it’s been a while, huh, champ?” She smirked at him. “But, if you did want to do anything, I can promise you I’m not fertile right now.”

  Her hand snaked over to him but froze mid-reach at the cold, stony look on his face. “Not interested.”

  Taryn huffed and went back to eating her muffin. “You might have told me at the bar that you were impotent.”

  His wolf snorted more in amusement than anything. In any other context, he probably would have been frothing at the mouth at what she said, but getting her the heck away from him was far more important that any slights to his ability to satisfy women.

  She gobbled the rest of her muffin and moaned at the taste. Cutter couldn’t help licking his lips. Whatever it was had smelled delicious. His wolf rumbled in satisfaction as the smell permeated the air. It was the sweetest smell in the whole world – blueberries. Other than meat, he rarely salivated over food – it was just something he needed to consume to survive. But damn if those things didn’t smell like a mixture of heaven, home and arousal. Fuck, he was getting horny from a darn pastry!

  “What were you eating?” he asked curiously.

  “Blueberry muffins,” she replied with a genuine smile. “Want one?”

  “Fuck yes.”

  She bounced off the bed and disappeared into his living room. They must be good; based on his time with Taryn he’d swear she was only capable of scowling and smirking. And even better, they were blueberry muffins.

  He’d never really liked them until a year ago, until he met a certain hedgehog shifter who smelled just like them. Now, he couldn’t stop eating them. They were rich, sweet, succulent and delicious.

  Taryn brought in a basket of them and settled it on the bed. He frowned as he looked inside at the moreish treats; they all had blue hearts iced on top. He sniffed the basket and felt a pulse of desire shoot through him. Oh, no.

  “Where did you get these?” he demanded, hoarsely.

  She shrugged and picked up another muffin. “Some woman dropped them off for you.”

  He leaped out of bed and his head protested vociferously at the sudden movements. “What woman?”

  “She didn’t leave her name; she was a hedgehog, though.”

  His heart almost stopped beating as panic and fear twisted within, making his wolf whimper. “Did you see her? Did she see you?”

  Taryn eyed him like he was a lunatic. “No, I got her throw them through the window, of course she saw me.”

  “Fuck!” he yelled.

  Thankfully, he was already dressed, but he realized his car must still be parked outside the bar. Fuckity, fuck! He grabbed his stash of cash and threw some bills at her.

  “See yourself out,” he barked as he ran for the door.

  “You might want to bathe first,” she called after him. “You don’t smell all that good.”

  No, he imagined he didn’t, but by that point he didn’t care. His wolf hounded him to move faster, and he did. His couldn’t stand to wait for the elevator and, instead, hurled himself down the stairs a flight at a time. He ignored the outraged shouts of his neighbor Mr. Wozniak and pushed past him. He couldn’t feel too bad about almost knocking him over; the old bastard had trained his cocker spaniel to try and take a bite out of Cutter every time he saw him. They had an ongoing feud about parking spaces.

  None of that mattered, though. He had to get to Lucie and tell her that nothing happened with Taryn. He had to make sure that she didn’t think he had slept with the peacock shifter. It was imperative that he do so as soon as possible.

  A small, sly part of him wondered why he was in such a rush. After all, didn’t he want Lucie to leave him alone? Wouldn’t seeing him with another woman reach that objective?

  His wolf roared. Yes, he wanted Lucie to move on, but not like this. The thought that she could be hurt by seeing Taryn at his apartment ate at him, and he needed to do something about it. He felt like his life depended on it.

  *

  Cutter skidded to a stop at the medical bay. He looked around the room, wildly. Where was she? Where the fuck was she?

  He heard the unmistakable groans from Helga’s latest victim, but other than that, the area was quiet. He ran his hands over his head. She had to be here somewhere. All he had to do was wait patiently, and she’d show up. How hard could that be? Twenty seconds later, he realized it was nigh on impossible in his agitated state.

  The door opened and Cutter spun to find himself glaring at the new doctor. Both men looked at each other in surprise and then disappointment.

  The doctor recovered first and flashed him a genial smile. “We haven't formally met; I’m Doctor Rick Powers. Please, call me Rick.”

  He swaggered over to Cutter and held out his hand. The wolf shifter sniffed, stared at the hand for a few beats and then shook it, reluctantly. “Cutter,” he mumbled.

  Rick stepped back and cocked his head to one side. “Yes, I remember from yesterday. I’m afraid I can’t give you any details on your deceased friend.”

  “I wasn’t here for that,” he said hotly, and feeling a little guilty for momentarily forgetting about Clayton’s untimely demise.

  The lion raised an eyebrow. “Oh, then can I help you with something?”

  His wolf huffed at the other male. The lion came across as being easygoing and charming, but Cutter could sense the tension beneath the surface. He didn’t like Cutter being there.

  “I was looking for Lucie,” replied Cutter slowly, watching his reaction.

  The lion’s smile tightened almost imperceptibly. “As was I. I’m sure she’ll be around here somewhere. I’m sure I can help you in her absence.”

  Cutter cracked his jaw. “I need to speak to Lucie.”

  “What about? If it’s personal, I’m sure it can wait until after the working day has ended.”

  His beast yowled in fury. He hadn’t been wrong about the damn lion - he was after Lucie! He was trying to put a claim on her.

  An idea sparked within him. If Lucie was actually avoiding him, then there was one surefire way to get her attention. He’d have her as a captive audience. His wolf wagged his tail at the idea. Yep, he’d genuinely had a good idea.

  “I need to arrange for my physical.”

  Rick relaxed a little and chuckled. “Well, why don’t I ask Lucie to call you when she has a chance to book an appointment for you?”

  Cutter clenched and unclenched his fists. “That sounds fine.”

  “Good, I think you can just run along then, don’t you?”

  He grunted at the lion’s smarmy tone and turned on his heel to leave; every muscle in his body tensed as he fought the u
rge to shift.

  “Oh, and a bit of advice, friend,” called Rick to his retreating back, “take a shower – you reek of alcohol.”

  “I’m not your friend,” rasped Cutter.

  *

  An hour later, freshly showered and wearing a change of clothes he had begged, or rather threatened, off Wayne, Cutter marched into the medical bay.

  He’d received an e-mail from Lucie informing him that his physical was due to take place at 10am, and he was determined to set her straight about what she thought she saw at his apartment.

  Hopes of that died when the no-nonsense Helga barreled through the door. She gave him a chilly smile. The phrase ‘tender, loving care’ was not in her vocabulary. She treated patients with the same gentleness that POWs received.

  “Ready for your physical?” she barked.

  “Uh, where’s Lucie?”

  “Assisting Doctor Powers. Now, don’t just stand there; strip!”

  Even his wolf felt terrified. Maybe if he ran really fast, he could make it to the exit. She must have sensed his fear; the large she-bear planted her body in front of the door and pursed her lips.

  Oh, lord, there was no escape.

  Chapter Seven

  Lucie sighed as her hedgehog sulked. Okay, maybe she felt just a teeny bit guilty for asking Helga to do Cutter’s physical, and maybe she was hiding from him, but only because she was confused and didn’t want to make an ass out of herself.

  Cutter had told her repeatedly that he wasn’t interested in her and that she should move on. Due to her mulishness, she had refused to listen to him. So wasn’t her inevitable heartbreak all her own fault? He’d never promised to be faithful, and just because she had been sitting at home every Friday night in a bid to save herself for him; it was ridiculous for her to expect him to do the same.

  Bull spit! She was hurt and angry and had no one to blame but herself. She wasn’t avoiding him because she was afraid of what he would say, but rather, she was afraid that she would behave like a loon and accuse him of cheating on her.