Read Online Bad Cat Baby Blues (Shifter Squad Six 3) by Anya Nowlan - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Anya Nowlan
Tags: Fiction, Suspense, Romance, Action & Adventure, Paranormal, Adult, Military, supernatural, Erotic, shifters, Interracial, Bachelor, menage, BBW, Shifter, Violence, Mate, Protection, Forever Love, Single Woman, Navy SEALs, Forbidden Pregnancy, Shifter Squad Six, Werejaguar
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her brain up in knots, trying to remind herself that she’d only met this man and knew nothing about him other than the fact that he was dangerous and sexy—the best combination.
“I’ll try,” she promised with a weak smile, snuggling up against him again and putting the bleakness of their future out of her head.
For now, she could enjoy this moment for what it was. Tomorrow be damned.
CHAPTER NINE
Dutch
Dutch Henley was a lot of things, but a calm man he was not.
He’d never taken himself for a guy with an attitude problem, not really. If anything, he’d been damn near stoic for most his life, a trait often thrown at him as an accusation rather than a compliment. But those who knew him were acutely aware that beneath that solid, still appearance roared a predator that was hard to contain and even tougher to handle.
So the fact that he had gotten progressively worse over the last year or so was something that he thought no one should have really noticed, but apparently his assumptions were way off on the money on that. Dusting off his leather jacket as he picked himself up off the sidewalk, he should have realized as much.
“The fuck was that for?” he demanded, spreading his arms as he looked at Grant and Grim, standing in front of the door like two bouncers at a club.
Behind them, Dutch could see the overturned tables and the broken glasses from the brawl, with some unlucky drunk rubbing his probably dislocated jaw as Connor was trying to smooth things over with him. At a place called The Dive, a man should have expected to get hit when he wasn’t careful about what he said to whom, right?
“Dutch, stop it. Go walk it off,” Grant said, exchanging a look with his twin and receiving a nod of agreement.
Grant’s right hand still had deep gashes on it, malformations from the wound he had gotten in that nameless jungle more than a year ago. Every time Dutch looked at his friend and fellow squad-mate, he couldn’t escape the sight of that hand and the memories it brought back.
Ari’s dark hair as it tumbled down her shoulders, that hawk-like look in her eyes as she glanced over her shoulder, green eyes aflame with something he couldn’t quite name… she was a vision, an apparition that could have been a ghost for all Dutch knew at this point. He hadn’t seen her since that mission and if he’d taken a moment to think about it, he would have probably realized that his foul mood might have had more to do with that fact than he cared to admit.
“What do you mean walk it off? He fucking called us sissies! He insulted everything we stand for,” Dutch argued, anger rising in him as steadily as the tide.
“He’s drunk. You’re probably drunk. It’s the middle of the fucking day, man, just cool it. We don’t need any more trouble here. Wasn’t Seattle enough?” Grim asked, cocking a brow.
Dutch shoved his hands into his pockets, huffing. Seattle felt like an eon ago, but it was actually less than two weeks prior that they’d been waiting to be sent on another mission while holed up in that sad excuse of a city and Dutch had ended up trashing a bar because of an unfortunate combination of too much scotch and a shitty mood. Connor had sat him down after it and told him in no uncertain terms that if he didn’t shape up, he’d be looking at an extended vacation from Squad Six.
Dutch didn’t believe he’d do it, though. But one look at Connor now, kneeling next to the wounded prick, his face contorted in a grimace of pity and rage, Dutch started questioning his convictions. He opened his mouth to say something additional to the cougar twins but then huffed, waving them off as he spun around and walked off.
“Fuck you guys too. Don’t expect any pity from me the next time you get into this sort of shit,” he snapped over his shoulder, crossing the street with his hands shoved into his pockets.
He didn’t look back, but he didn’t need to in order to be sure that the twins were
“I’ll try,” she promised with a weak smile, snuggling up against him again and putting the bleakness of their future out of her head.
For now, she could enjoy this moment for what it was. Tomorrow be damned.
CHAPTER NINE
Dutch
Dutch Henley was a lot of things, but a calm man he was not.
He’d never taken himself for a guy with an attitude problem, not really. If anything, he’d been damn near stoic for most his life, a trait often thrown at him as an accusation rather than a compliment. But those who knew him were acutely aware that beneath that solid, still appearance roared a predator that was hard to contain and even tougher to handle.
So the fact that he had gotten progressively worse over the last year or so was something that he thought no one should have really noticed, but apparently his assumptions were way off on the money on that. Dusting off his leather jacket as he picked himself up off the sidewalk, he should have realized as much.
“The fuck was that for?” he demanded, spreading his arms as he looked at Grant and Grim, standing in front of the door like two bouncers at a club.
Behind them, Dutch could see the overturned tables and the broken glasses from the brawl, with some unlucky drunk rubbing his probably dislocated jaw as Connor was trying to smooth things over with him. At a place called The Dive, a man should have expected to get hit when he wasn’t careful about what he said to whom, right?
“Dutch, stop it. Go walk it off,” Grant said, exchanging a look with his twin and receiving a nod of agreement.
Grant’s right hand still had deep gashes on it, malformations from the wound he had gotten in that nameless jungle more than a year ago. Every time Dutch looked at his friend and fellow squad-mate, he couldn’t escape the sight of that hand and the memories it brought back.
Ari’s dark hair as it tumbled down her shoulders, that hawk-like look in her eyes as she glanced over her shoulder, green eyes aflame with something he couldn’t quite name… she was a vision, an apparition that could have been a ghost for all Dutch knew at this point. He hadn’t seen her since that mission and if he’d taken a moment to think about it, he would have probably realized that his foul mood might have had more to do with that fact than he cared to admit.
“What do you mean walk it off? He fucking called us sissies! He insulted everything we stand for,” Dutch argued, anger rising in him as steadily as the tide.
“He’s drunk. You’re probably drunk. It’s the middle of the fucking day, man, just cool it. We don’t need any more trouble here. Wasn’t Seattle enough?” Grim asked, cocking a brow.
Dutch shoved his hands into his pockets, huffing. Seattle felt like an eon ago, but it was actually less than two weeks prior that they’d been waiting to be sent on another mission while holed up in that sad excuse of a city and Dutch had ended up trashing a bar because of an unfortunate combination of too much scotch and a shitty mood. Connor had sat him down after it and told him in no uncertain terms that if he didn’t shape up, he’d be looking at an extended vacation from Squad Six.
Dutch didn’t believe he’d do it, though. But one look at Connor now, kneeling next to the wounded prick, his face contorted in a grimace of pity and rage, Dutch started questioning his convictions. He opened his mouth to say something additional to the cougar twins but then huffed, waving them off as he spun around and walked off.
“Fuck you guys too. Don’t expect any pity from me the next time you get into this sort of shit,” he snapped over his shoulder, crossing the street with his hands shoved into his pockets.
He didn’t look back, but he didn’t need to in order to be sure that the twins were
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