by C. D. Gorri
“Okaaaayyy,” Sofia said. “I mean I am a fan of MMM.”
“Mmm?” He mimicked the sound.
“No, it’s MMM,” Red corrected him.
“Ton, am I missing something here?”
“Yeah man, listen, it’s MMM.”
What the heck? Why were they all mmm’ing all over the place?
“Maude’s Meatless Meals to go,” Sofia explained. “She is the best chef I have ever met. Works at the cafeteria at WANC. Anyway, she started this little delivery service recently. Been a real hit,” the chinchilla said, stuffing another meatless meatball into her mouth.
“I thought you said it was Tofu Taco Tuesday,” Sergio said to Tony.
“It is, but Maude keeps her meatballs ready for my little doll face whenever she craves them.” He winked over at his mate.
“Which is all the time.” Sofia sighed.
Sergio grinned and went to snag one of the crispy little delights with his fork, but the woman snarled. Her skin turned red, and before Sergio knew it, Red was standing in front of him.
“Easy now, Sof. He didn’t realize those were yours,” Red said, smiling widely, trying to placate the crazed pregnant chinchilla.
She motioned for him to drop the meatball with one of her hands hidden behind her back. So cute. So caring. Could he help it if his eyes may have lingered on that ripe, round part of her that made his bull want to stand up and moo? No. he could not.
She was a sight even in her strange getup. The tantalizing glimpse of skin in her low-riding pants was almost too much. But he had control. He was a professional, and he would have to solve the case before he worried about bending a certain little hedgie backward with his kisses.
Moooo.
18
“I said, drop the meatball, Detective,” Red repeated, and he noticed Sofia was turning a rather alarming shade of crimson.
“Yeah, sorry,” he murmured, replacing the fried goody and grabbing another tofu taco instead.
Forty down, and he was still going. He had to admit this Maude knew her tacos. The tofu was so light and balanced, shredded and seasoned to perfection.
Topped with a cabbage, carrot, onion, tomato, avocado, cilantro, and lime slaw, it was freaking exceptional. She’d even added tiny little cups of jalapenos for those, like Sergio, who liked a little kick with their tofu.
“Never touch her meatballs,” the hedgehog whispered, bringing him back to the present.
He raised his eyebrows, not realizing the seriousness of the situation until Tony went to calm his mate. Yikes. Pregnant females were scary AF.
“Oh, you have a little cilantro lime sauce. Hang on,” Red said, leaning over with a napkin and touching it to Sergio’s lips.
His bull growled deep in his chest, and the female stilled her movements. Up close, she was even prettier. All golden skin and spiky locks, plump pink lips, and one lone beauty mark just below her left ear. Damn, she was a beauty, all right.
“Sergio, why don’t you go on and tell us why you suspect Sammi of being your identity thief,” Sofia interrupted, and his hedgie moved back abruptly.
Sad moo.
“Look, it’s nothing personal, Red,” he began to explain.
“So, you are investigating stolen identities and decided because I have the same name as one of your victims, I must be the thief?”
“No. I think you stole her name, Red. I think you took her acceptance letter and decided to have a go at the Academy. She was a top student back home. Honor roll. An athlete. The works. I’ve seen your record. It just doesn’t jive. You gotta admit it’s convincing.” Tony shrugged and stood up, already clearing the remnants of their massive and delicious takeout from MMM.
“Really?” Sofia pinned her mate with a steely glare.
“Uh…” Tony cleared his throat and turned to the counter, “How about some strawberries, doll? I had Maude slice you some with lemon and that fine sugar to dip them in?”
“Really?” the female softened.
Sergio shook his head. The byplay between the couple was entertaining for sure but dizzying as well. Still, he envied them every public display of affection and tender moment.
Soon, his bull offered.
“No, I get it,” Red said, crazy brown eyes glued to his face.
“Red, I—”
“It’s okay. You have a job to do. So, I think you should do it.”
“What?”
“Prove it.”
“I don’t think you understand—”
“Look, I need you to solve this thing, guilty or innocent,” she said.
“Sammi, shush!” Sofia looked up.
Grrr.
“No, Sof. He’s a detective, and this is his case. It is for the best if he solves it.”
“But what if he finds evidence, Sammi?” Sofia whispered, and the chinchilla’s eyes glistened with unshed tears that Red’s own amber gaze echoed. “Sammi, you don’t get it. Shifter prison is bad. Like really bad. I just can’t lose you!”
Soon they were sobbing in each other’s arms, and Tony was growling at him. He obviously was not amused.
Fuck. Well, neither was Sergio.
He didn’t even want to consider his delicate little Red in jail. He could scent her disappointment and sadness. It was laced with a hint of fear, and that aggravated the shit out of his bull.
But what was a PRIC to do? He had a case to solve, and if she was guilty, he would bring her to justice. He had to.
“I can’t believe you think Sammi could be involved with something like this.”
“But, Sofia, come on. You said so yourself you only met her after she enrolled at the Academy,” Tony persisted.
“There is that,” Sergio seconded, though doing so caused him to frown. Hard.
He did not like the growing pile of evidence against the woman his bull was intent on mating. Increasingly so.
After the table was cleared and dishes washed and put away, Tony placed a huge bowl of strawberries on the table. The three talked, hatching up plans or schemes to prove her innocence. Sergio could hardly keep up. His mind was racing.
Maybe there was a reason for her to steal someone else’s identity. Of course, the bigger issue was, where the hell was the real Samantha Andrews? The female gopher and her grandmother were nowhere to be found.
Crap.
He sincerely hoped his little Red was not capable of murder. What would their children think?
Like we don’t have murderers in our family already.
That might be true, but that was years ago. Grandpa Sal was never convicted on any of the charges they’d brought against him. As for Sergio’s Zia Maria, things did not work out quite that way.
Grandpa Sal’s sister was technically his great-aunt, but she was his Zia for as long as he could remember hearing tales told of her dastardly deeds. She’d been convicted of breaking county bylaws by improperly disposing of an animal carcass after a witness had seen her tossing various body parts of what was believed to be a stag through the wood chipper back on the farm.
Truth was she had been married to a deer shifter who strayed on over to greener pastures one time too many. Of course, the normals had believed the creature was non-sentient, which was fine with the rest of the family.
No one liked Zio Paolo much, anyway. The human authorities couldn’t prove the remains belonged to anything but a regular old deer. And Grandpa Sal supported his sister to this day.
Hell, he’d even gone with the older man to visit the matron in prison. In fact, if Sergio’s calculations were correct, the elderly woman was due for parole this year. It would be good to have her home again. No one in the family would object to Red’s deeds because what’s a little thing like a stolen social security number or fake ID after something like that?
Would they?
Sad moo.
“I have an idea.” Red spoke up, silencing everyone at the table and rousing Sergio from his musings. “What if I prove who I am?”
“How can you do
that?”
“By helping you solve the case,” she said, eyes narrowed and arms crossed under her magnificent bosom.
“You want to what?”
“Help you solve the case.”
Sergio looked at Tony. The man’s eyebrows had disappeared into his hairline. He glanced at Sofia, who was smiling at the female and wiping her eyes, as if she approved of the nonsensical scheme. Finally, he looked back at Red, who now had her eyes narrowed at him in annoyance.
Shit. What did I do?
He tried to find something positive to say to her when his bull was roaring a big fat no in his brain. Of course, there was no way. She simply could not help him solve this crime. Not when she was the prime suspect.
“Well?”
“Well, what? The answer is no, Red.”
“Why? And for the love of all the gods, why do you keep calling me Red?” She tossed her napkin onto the table and stood up angrily.
The flurry of movement brought his attention to all those deliciously curvy bits he’d been trying so hard not to notice throughout their meal. The blouse had been replaced by a snug little tank top that showed off her ample breasts and indented waist.
Hubba hubba.
Grandpa Sal had schooled him well on the slang used by the average 1940s ace. A cookie like his Red, all full of moxie, was definitely something to flip his wig over.
Sigh. Yeah, Sergio was a sucker for etymology. Had made a sort of hobby out of discovering the origins of words, and the ‘40s were his favorite. In his humble opinion, his bull had it right the first time he’d glanced at her. Red was a dish.
Hubba hubba, indeed.
His dish, and he wasn’t letting anyone else claim what was his. Nor was he walking her straight into the lion’s den.
“I won’t be responsible for you getting hurt during my mission. Absolutely not.”
“I trained as a FUC agent!”
“And you work as a guidance counselor.”
Shit.
He realized his mistake the moment the words left his mouth. Every eye in the room landed on him. He should’ve realized Tony would take his mate’s side when the female began to take a chunk out of his hide for his remark.
“I will have you know the ability to react with calm and logic in order to defuse certain altercations before they become something intolerable by all is a skill most law enforcement officers, even secret shifter ones, pride themselves on!”
“Sorry. Look, really, Sofia, I meant no disrespect, but I can’t let a female civilian—” Sergio tried, but the chinchilla shifter, who had been bitten by the Jersey Devil and now carried some of his DNA inside, was already turning a dangerous shade of crimson.
Uh-oh. I stepped right into that one.
“Come on, doll face. Let’s get out of here and leave Sergio to discuss plans with Sammi.” Tony stood up and took his mate’s hand. “I don’t want you getting upset. It’s not good for the baby.” He grumbled something else into her ear, and the woman was turning red again, but Sergio had a feeling it was for an entirely different reason.
“Okay, but what about Sammi? Are you sure you are okay with him?”
“Yes, I am sure,” Red said.
Was it wrong he felt ridiculously pleased that she trusted him to take care of her? He waited a beat for the couple to go before turning to his prisoner, aka his fated mate.
Nervous moo.
“First, Red, we are gonna clean up dessert. Then you’re gonna talk. And I am warning you now, you are not coming with me to investigate unless you can convince me you have a case. Deal?”
“Deal.” She stuck her chin out defiantly, and Sergio bit back his grin.
She was headstrong. Another trait for the plus column in his mind. Sergio simply could not deal with a woman who cowed down to his roughshod ways. That always left him feeling too much like a bully. No pun intended.
It was simply fact. The women in his past tended to be swayed to his way of thinking, with very little action on his part. A simple stare and many of them were ready to allow him to have his way.
Truth be told, it got boring after a while. A problem that ended most of his infrequent romantic affairs. One of the reasons he was still single.
He almost did not want to admit that this was a real fear of his. His bull was so certain Red was theirs. But what if she cringed or winced under his indomitable stare?
True, she exhibited quite the opposite in their little exchange. Hell, the little spitfire was practically daring him to argue with her.
How unique! Wonderful. Intriguing even. Yes, he very much liked the fact she was telling him to stuff it with her fierce glare and bellicose posture.
I like you, Red, he wanted to say.
Very much.
19
Sammi dried the last plate and placed it right in her own personal PRIC’s enormous hands without even glancing. He accepted the dish, as he had the others, with a deep, rumbling grunt.
Sniff.
Heat blossomed in her stomach at the façade of domesticity the two of them presented. Having settled into a rhythm that was both comforting and efficient, Sammi had fallen victim to one of her secret fantasies.
Connubial felicity.
Also known as wedded bliss. Sigh. Despite being not in vogue for a modern woman of the world, Sammi secretly harbored a yearning to be espoused. She was surrounded daily by her goal-oriented family as a hoglet and ever since she’d enrolled at the Academy by career-minded FUCs.
And she wanted that, too. Really, she did.
Was it wrong to hope for both? She thought of all the married FUCs she’d seen or had been taught by during her time as a cadet. Those were her real idols. The FUCs who had it all!
Indomitable pairs like Chase and Miranda, Nolan and Clarice, and Mason and Jesse. Sigh.
Was it wrong for her to want what they had? To be part of a crime-fighting duo who shared a love so strong and true it outshined all the rest?
Sigh.
There, in that rented townhouse, Sammi found herself slipping into the impossible and dangerous daydream of what it would be like if she were happily-mated-after with the admittedly studly bull far too easily.
Of course, the man didn’t seem too enthusiastic over her wanting to help him solve the case. Even though she would be the perfect asset to Sergio’s PRIC ambitions.
Not exactly a FUC agent herself but not not a FUC agent either. After all, she had passed her courses. Eventually.
Sammi’s work as a counselor was only temporary. To help her get over her fears of being in the field and maybe cure her unfortunate allergy to danger. The one that seemed to cause chaos wherever she tread.
So, what if she had to repeat a few classes? Practice makes perfect. And if she had an aversion to violence, it was just because, as a hedgie, she had limited resources when it came to self-defense.
True, her spines were awesome, but if she went up against say a rhino shifter, what could she do? Other shifters were generally bigger, stronger, and deadlier. However, with a bull by her side, there would be no stopping her.
Mine.
Her hedgie sniffed loudly at the thought of the big, handsome bull. He was simply delicious. A wonderful prospect to be her mate, for sure. She could feel her animal’s agreement. The beastie sighed and batted her tiny brown eyes, already half in love with the man.
Slow your roll, she chided the critter. Too fast for all that now. She still needed to keep her defenses up. What if he snored? Hated rap music? Or, gods forbid, refused to admit that reading was the best diversion evah!
Don’t care. Sniff. Mine.
Oh well. It took her years to feel this way. She supposed it was only right that when she fell, this hedgie fell hard. It couldn’t be helped.
This sort of thing, dinner and cleaning up together afterward, on the regular could be kind of nice. Especially with him.
Dangerous thoughts, indeed. Sammi supposed it was typical of her to catch feelings off of daydreams. He probably had no id
ea what was going through her brain at the moment.
That was another problem. Just because she felt this way did not mean he reciprocated. Darn it. That was a difficult pill to swallow.
But how was she going to broach the possibility that he was her mate until she cleared her name?
Yeah. Not happening.
Sniff. Make it happen.
Sammi somehow bit back her sigh. She was just so happy with him nearby. Content and intrigued all at the same time.
Don’t forget horny.
Okay, that was crass, but she couldn’t help her overwhelming physical attraction to the big lug. Even more shocking than the urgent desire to kiss him silly was the feeling of safety.
Truth.
Sammi just felt so darn protected near him. For a hedgie with a not-so-small aversion to violence, that fact was like the cherry on top of the already super-tempting sundae that was Detective Gravino.
“Okay, that’s done.” She turned around when the last dish had been washed, dried, and put away in the cabinet. “I’d like to see the information you have to date now.”
“No way.”
“But you said I could help.”
“Actually, Red, I never officially agreed.”
“Yes, you did.”
“Whatever.” He rolled his ridiculously large, dark brown eyes. “I don’t care. You are still not getting my files.”
“Why not?”
“If I show you all my cards, and you’re guilty, you’ll be able to build your defense case using my own data against me, Red.” Sergio shook his head, making the short strands fall every which way. “And that ain’t happening.”
Was it wrong that she wanted to run her fingers through the sexy tousled locks? There was just something about his look, that constantly windblown hair of his, that made her want to grab it and pull.
In fact, she pictured herself doing just that. Of course, his head was between her thighs when she imagined it.
Oh my.
She could practically feel that long, thick tongue of his. Imagined the rough slide of it across her nether bits. Yes. Please. She wanted to yell, but bit her lip. Of course, her panties didn’t fare so well. The damp cotton was a direct result of her scandalous thoughts.