In a Badger Way (Honey Badger Chronicles #2) - Shelly Laurenston Page 0,24

want to meet them too. Her name is Dr. Becca Morgan. A trained and highly respected psychiatrist and, I believe, some kind of cat . . . or dog . . . or something. Something furry that can do tricks if I promise her enough treats.”

“How does your husband tolerate you?” Stevie sneered.

“The same way I’m sure this one tolerates you. He ignores the bullshit and focuses on the ass. At least that’s how Holtz has always explained it to me.”

Shen shook his head. “We’re not . . . together.”

“I make him uncomfortable,” Stevie admitted. “He told my sister Max that his penis becomes erect every time I hug him.”

“I said no such—”

But before he could finish, Stevie reached over and grabbed his cheeks. “But look at this adorable panda face! Just so cute!”

Shen gently pushed her away. “I really need you to stop doing that.”

Dr. Conridge suddenly laughed. “Oh, look. His penis does become erect!”

chapter FIVE

Shen had tried to get away. From both Dr. Conridge and Stevie MacKilligan, but he and his company had been hired by the Jean-Louis Parker family. That meant they could assign him to a different child or, in this case, friend, any time they wanted.

Which was exactly what happened.

Kyle graciously offered to stay with his family while Shen “escorted” the ladies to the Manhattan Behavioral Center.

“Why can’t Berg do it?” Shen had asked, not really in the mood to chaperone anyone at the moment. Even the MacKilligan sisters.

“Yeah,” Berg asked, “why can’t I take them?”

In response, Kyle simply pointed . . . up.

And he did that because Stevie was hanging from the hallway ceiling by her claws.

“Oh, come on, Stevie,” Berg had sort of whined. “I thought we’d gotten past this.”

“You’re an apex predator,” Kyle had reminded Berg.

“You’re kidding, right?” Shen had to ask. “Am I the only one who saw her?”

Kyle started to reply but Stevie had unhooked herself from the ceiling and dropped to the ground, startling all three males. Then she was on Shen in seconds, her hand over his mouth, her eyes wide, head shaking.

Not sure what the problem was, Shen had gently pulled her hand off his mouth and asked, “What?”

Up on her toes, she’d glanced over his shoulder and whispered, “Just don’t talk about it. Don’t talk about what you saw. Trust me on this.”

She’d pulled her hand away after that and moved around him, smiling as her sisters had come down the hall.

Now they were driving in silence on their way to the Behavioral Center.

The building had underground parking and the whole complex seemed to be owned and operated by the Behavioral Center. As Dr. Conridge had promised, they were expected. The bear security guard gave a grunt as he lifted the gate. His way of telling Shen to drive on.

Shen parked the SUV and followed the sisters to the bank of elevators. They stepped into the first one and took it to the twelfth floor. A pretty receptionist smiled at them as soon as they walked in.

Shen was fascinated by the reactions of each sister to such an innocent and important—for the company—business move.

Charlie smiled in return, but while she smiled her intense gaze bounced from one side of the room to the other. A predator on the lookout for any danger that might put her weaker Packmates at risk.

Max grinned, but it was the grin of a predator catching sight of prey that had no idea how much danger she was in. The honey badger wanted to “play,” but Shen wasn’t going to let that happen.

And Stevie? She stopped in her tracks, eyes narrowing on the receptionist, expecting the absolute worst from that smile. Seeing all sorts of danger where there was none. That was Stevie’s major problem in Shen’s opinion. She saw no danger where there was danger—like taking Bo Novikov’s wife for her own personal cat toy—and believed there was major danger where there was none. Like with the poor receptionist.

“Dr. MacKilligan?” the female asked Stevie before the sisters could say a word.

Now glaring at the woman—and Shen knew it was because she was trying to figure out how the woman knew her name . . . so smart and yet so honey badger—Stevie started to bare a fang, but Shen leaned past her and said, “Yes. This is Dr. MacKilligan.”

“Excellent. Dr. Morgan is waiting for you, Dr. Mac—”

“We’re all coming,” Charlie abruptly cut in.

Max, who was in mid-sit on one of the couches, a recent copy of Rolling Stone in her hand,