In a Badger Way (Honey Badger Chronicles #2) - Shelly Laurenston Page 0,70
don’t. I’ve kind of made up my mind here.”
“Meaning what . . . exactly?”
“That I’ve decided we’re boyfriend and girlfriend.”
“Because I’m cute?”
“That’s a definite start. But come on. You have to admit we’re perfect together.”
“I don’t have to admit that, because it’s not true. At the very least, it’s unknown. And what is that noise?”
She pointed toward the sliding glass doors. “Cats.”
“Huh?” He got up and went to the doors to find that a large number of stray cats had congregated on the deck. “Why are there all these scraggly ass cats outside our house?”
Stevie laughed.
“What’s so funny?”
“Our house.”
He growled. “I meant,” he bit out slowly, “my sister’s house.”
“Sure you did.”
“Did you feed them?”
“No.”
“You’ve been feeding that stray cat outside the Queens house.”
“I might as well . . . she’s not going anywhere. She’s chosen us. As far as she’s concerned, it’s her house now. It doesn’t matter what Max does . . . we’re stuck with her. So we might as well feed her.”
Stevie began doodling a dollar sign on the top of her music papers, but when Shen didn’t say anything, she looked up. He was staring at her, his mouth open.
“What?” she asked.
“You. You’re that stray cat.”
“Pardon?”
“‘She’s not going anywhere. She’s chosen us. As far as she’s concerned, it’s her house now.’ I’m the house in this scenario. I’m your boyfriend now because you’ve decided I am.”
“As long as we’re clear.”
“We’re not clear!” he bellowed, but immediately pulled his anger back. “I understand that maybe you’re at a point in your life where you’re looking for someone to love. I’m just not that guy.”
“Why?”
“I’m lazy. I have no real ambition. I just want to make enough money to have a relaxing home and an unlimited supply of bamboo. That’s it. That’s all I want from life. But you . . . you need someone ambitious. Someone who wants more from life.”
“I’ve tried that. It never works out well. Oh! That reminds me.” She stood. “We need to go out.”
“We’re having a conversation here.”
“It’ll have to wait. I have a date with Dr. Matt Wells.”
“The hybrid murderer?”
“He’s not murdering people, per se. He’s experimenting on them, and when the experiments go bad and they die, he tosses their bodies out into the woods and sets them on fire.”
Shen, his arms stretched out, hands palms up, just kept staring at her . . . with his mouth open.
“It’s wrong,” she volunteered. “Is that what you need me to say? Because it is wrong and I know it’s wrong. It’s not something I’d ever do. But I don’t get emotional over it because he’s a scientist, so I understand his thinking. It’s wrong thinking, but I understand it.”
“You do know you’re a hybrid, don’t you? Which means you’re at risk.”
“Chances are he’s going after hybrids in the first place because of me. I’ve got to find out what’s going on and, if I can, stop it.”
Shen dropped his arms. “And what do you want me to do?”
“Pretend to be my security.”
“I am your security.”
She snorted. “I’d never actually hire you as my security.”
“Why the hell not?”
“Because you’re my boyfriend. Duh. You’d be too emotionally involved.”
“But I’m not your boyfriend.”
“Uh-huh,” she dismissed him, because they were running late. “I’ll go get changed.”
Stevie walked over to Shen, walked around him, and headed toward the stairs that led to the bedrooms.
Shen was silent for a few seconds until he asked, “Woman . . . did you just rub up against my back?”
“Well,” she chuckled, grabbing her pack, into which she’d shoved some going-out clothes, “I’m way too tall to wrap myself around your legs. And when I shift my tail can wrap around your entire body a few times . . . so I assumed unleashing that would just freak you out.”
Without another word, she headed up the stairs, leaving Shen standing there, with his mouth open and the most adorably confused expression on his handsome face.
chapter FOURTEEN
Shen readjusted his gun holster under his light business jacket.
He always had work clothes in his sister’s many homes. More than once he’d had to help her out, keeping the leeches and losers off her back when she was trying to work an event.
So he had on his black jeans, black shoes, black designer T-shirt, and a black linen jacket to hide his weaponry.
“Your sister is so cool,” Stevie said from upstairs. “She has all these designer shoes in different sizes.”
“Don’t wear those ridiculously high heels that she insists on wearing. I don’t want to have