Before Crush could argue that point, the front doors to the Group offices opened and the hillbilly with the sensitive gut walked in. And right behind her was Ulrich Van Holtz. It was strange enough that the Carnivore goalie, known as The Gentleman, was also the owner and captain of the same team. That was normally unheard of. But the fact that Van Holtz was also in charge of the Manhattan division of the Group pretty much blew Crush’s mind.

Then again, the Group’s offices had completely confused him in general. He’d kind of expected either a back alley or, at the very least, a cold, sterile federal or state type office. Instead, the Group’s office reminded Crush of those high-end advertising agencies with comfortable leather seats and fancy art on the brightly colored walls. Although, he could tell that was just the front of the building, the first place one saw. Watching staffers having to punch in codes to get into the next level reminded him this was nothing like an advertising agency.

“Sorry we’re late,” Van Holtz said when he walked into the reception area, but he stopped, eyes blinking wide as he gazed down at MacDermot.

“Desiree! What happened?”

“I’m okay. Really.” She pulled the ice pack down. “You don’t think this will freak Mace out too much, do you?”

Smith stepped past Van Holtz and studied the full-human’s face for a moment. “Well ... it was nice working with you.”

MacDermot cringed, then immediately regretted making that face and quickly returned the ice pack to her face.

“He’ll just have to understand,” MacDermot muttered. “He’ll have to get over it. I’m not giving up my job over one incident.”

“A good number of those words ... not in a cat’s vocabulary, darlin’.” Smith patted her shoulder. “I got something that can help with that swelling, though,” the She-wolf offered, but MacDermot immediately pushed herself into Crush’s side.

“You keep your wacky Southern voodoo away from me.”

“Tennessee Smiths don’t do voodoo, Desiree. We leave that to our Louisiana kin. Besides, it’ll help.”

“I don’t care what you tell me it does, forget it, Dee. No way.”

Smith looked them over and said, “Not sure you should be cuddling up to the bear that way, Desiree. Don’t think Malone will like it much.”

Crush looked around. “Wait ... what?”

“I’m not cuddling up to anybody. I’m just avoiding you and your witchcraft. And why the hell would Cella care who I cuddle up with?”

“Heard they’re together now. Ain’t that right, bear?”

“It’s not ... it’s just ... it’s kind of ...” God! He’d known this was just going to be wacky! He hated wacky!

The She-wolf leaned down to see his face. “What’s the matter, son? Cat got your tongue ... and other parts?” she finished on a whisper.

Crush glared at the female, wondering how disgusted he’d be with himself if he slapped around a She-wolf for no other reason than she was getting on his nerves. But then he sensed something flying at him. He raised his arms to protect himself, but a feline landed in his lap, big grin on her face.

“Hi!”

Crush scowled at Malone. “You. You’re making my life a misery!”

“What kind of reaction is that? How can you be my pretend boyfriend if you’re going to be a dick all the time?”

“So you are Cella’s boyfriend?” MacDermot asked.

“No. I am not.”

“Pretend boyfriend,” Malone corrected. “He’s my pretend boyfriend.”

“And what is that exactly?”

“It is what it sounds like.”

“ ‘It is what it sounds like?’ ” MacDermot repeated back at her. “You mean ridiculous?”

“You know, I don’t need the tone.”

As frustrated as Crush, MacDermot lowered the ice pack to her lap and snapped, “You need something all right. Therapy ... a real boyfriend. Something.”

Malone’s eyes grew wide at the sight of MacDermot’s face. “God, Dez! What happened to your face?”

“An angry and high on cocaine-infused honey sow decked me.”

Malone and the two wolves leaned in to get a closer look.

“You were hit in the face by a sow?” Malone asked. “Are you sure?”

“Of course, I’m sure. I know what came swinging at me and it was definitely her fist.”

“But by a sow? I mean honestly, sweetie, you’d be better off getting hit by a building.”

“And she was high?” Smith shook her head. “Damn, girl.”

“It’s really not that big a deal.”

“Well, what did the doctor say?” Malone asked, showing real concern for once for someone other than herself. It was a nice change.

“I didn’t go to the doctor.”

Malone punched Crush’s shoulder and ... ow. “You didn’t take her to the doctor?”

“I didn’t need to go to the doctor,” MacDermot cut in, getting defensive.

“You were unconscious and you didn’t go to the doctor?”

“I wasn’t unconscious. I didn’t even black out.”

Malone and the She-wolf blinked in surprise. “Wow,” they both said together.

“Okay,” MacDermot sighed. “Now you guys are just making fun of me.”