Page 13 of Shifter's Dream

“What bathroom am I supposed to go in?” Mac asked anyone who would listen. “The Prosecutor or the Defendant?”

Dahlia and Cerise were whispering fiercely at the end of the table, but Dahlia stopped long enough to say, “You go in the Defendant’s room, Mac. The Prosecutor is the Ladies Room, because women always nag and dudes are always coming up with excuses, that’s what my friend says. She says it’s sexist as hell but after a few drinks, nobody complains.”

Rogue shook her head. “That’s not it. The Prosecutor is the guy’s room and The Defendant is the lady’s room, because the prosecutor hands out the sentence, and the defendant just takes it.”

Troy snorted, his eyes on the other section of the bar where the female reappeared around the back, moving quickly, writing on her pad as she walked toward him, then she hooked a left and disappeared through the door to the kitchen.

Troy tracked her, loss spearing him when he couldn’t see her anymore. At that moment, nothing seemed more important than getting that female to look his way with a smile, and not her waitress smile.

But she wasn’t even going to be their waitress. The other female, the one with the braids, approached them. Troy craned to see around her. Her scent said she recognized and revered someone at the table. Troy looked at everyone to see who it was. Crew. He raised a hand to her. He held his scent close into his body so Troy couldn’t get any of it.

The waitress rapped him on the forehead with the end of her pen. “I’m right here, big guy. Let me guess, you want a beer, am I right?”

Troy tuned into her for a second. Her nametag that looked like a police badge proclaimed her to be, “Rizzoli.” She was petite, with a small smile on her face, long dark hair, loosely braided down her back, and a scent that made no sense to him. Canyon and Timber came to mind.

“Lemonade,” Troy rasped carefully.

Rizzoli raised her eyebrows but nodded.

“Only tea for me, thanks,” Cerise said. Dahlia snorted loudly. The scents from that side of the table went haywire and Troy stopped thinking about the female he was tracking long enough to look that way. The others gave their orders and the waitress left the table.

Dahlia waited till Rizzoli was gone, then raised her hands and spread them out toward Cerise, the strangest look on her face. Her scent said she was pissed as hell, but she knew she had no right to be, but she couldn’t help it. She almost snarled her words. “And there it is,” she said. “She’s pregnant, everyone. You all are surprised, right?”

No one said a word. Crew put his hands on his head and looked down, then reached across the table for Dahlia’s hand. Beckett leaned back and nodded his head. “Finally,” he drawled in the relative silence. “Y’all two just get it out.”

Cerise pointed her finger at Dahlia in a harsh way Troy had never seen from her before. “The only reason we didn’t tell anyone was because of how upset you’ve been. We’re not hiding it.”

Mac was still standing and Rogue made to join him, pulling him away from the table. She didn’t stick around for sister drama most of the time. Mac stopped her from pulling him away for a second and leaned back to the table and said, “Congratulations Beckett, you finally figured out what hole it goes in.”

Beckett raised his arms up and carefully threaded his fingers behind his head, addressing Mac. “You must still be figuring it out. Need a hint?”

Mac turned to Rogue. “I miss Bruin.” Rogue rolled her eyes and pulled him away.

Troy ignored them all and stood up. He had a female to woo.

***

Reed rushed into the back and turned around quickly, peeking through the scratched window on the in-door that she knew mostly hid her. It mostly hid the view out, too, but she could see a little. She could see that big guy’s frame, the one with the lumberjack yoga body and the bad boy sideburns and the questionable mustache that she still found attractive.

He’d been staring at her.

His attention had been a physical weight that made her feel hot and thick and slow and clumsy, like she was walking through molasses.

Sage pushed in through the door, her face set in evil amusement. When she saw Reed she stopped in the hallway and pointed at her, then back out the door, pointing right athim.

“Magnum P.I. wants in your panties,bad,” Sage said, grinning.

Reed shook her head. Deny, deny, deny. “Nah. He must think he knows me, that’s all.”

“Youdidnotice,” Sage said, her voice low. “He’s got you so naked with his eyes, how can you even pretend he’s not practically, I don’t know… marking you.” Sage peeked out the window they could barely see out of, getting in Reed’s way. “He’s sexy as hell, Reed, and he’s not going to take no without a fight, I know that type. You should just give in right now. Throw away that one rule and take him in the back and s-”

Reed clapped her hand over Sage’s mouth. “Don’t you say it you-”

Sage clapped her own hand over Reed’s mouth. “Don’t you say it either,” she said, her eyes sparkling, her words muffled by Reed’s hand.

Sage pulled away, and they both turned to look back out the window.

“Where’s my mace?” Reed said softly.

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