Her Perfect Mate (17 page)

Read Her Perfect Mate Online

Authors: Paige Tyler

your partner.”

“Yeah, that much is obvious.” She didn’t even want to think of how Clayne would have reacted if he

knew about the kiss in Venezuela. “What I want to know is why you were spoiling for the fight.”

Landon stopped examining the scratches on his chest to scowl at her. “What are you talking about? I

was only defending myself.”

Right. Ivy wasn’t naïve enough to think this was a case of boys being boys. Clayne had tried to lay

claim to her, and Landon had told him what the shifter could do with that notion.

Ivy shook her head and moved Landon’s hand out of the way so she could get a look at the damage

Clayne had done. She lifted Landon’s shirt, trying to ignore the way his chiseled muscles flexed as she ran

her fingers over the scratches. They weren’t as deep as she’d feared, but Clayne’s ragged claws would

probably leave a few scars.

“Damn him,” she muttered.

“What the hell kind of shifter is Buchanan anyway, a Tasmanian devil?”

She couldn’t stop her lips from twitching. “Just your plain, garden-variety timber wolf.”

Landon snorted. “More like a freakin’ werewolf.”

“Well, it’s a good thing he’s not.” Ivy flashed him a grin. “Then I’d have to worry about you turning

into one and we’d have to deal with the whole cats and dogs thing.”

Ivy didn’t want to even think of the animal attraction there’d be between them then.

***

After two straight days of anger management classes, Landon wanted to punch somebody. He’d come

close when Coleman, who’d been there the first day, made some snide comment about Landon being at the

DCO to help keep the “animals” in line, not become one himself. Not to defend Buchanan, but Ivy. Because

he knew Coleman had included her in that remark just to get a rise out of him. He hated that man.

The only thing that made sitting in an uncomfortable stuffed chair opposite Marlon the shrink bearable

was knowing the big, hulking, paranormal asshole Buchanan was being forced to go through the same

torture.

“Does that idiot doctor even realize he works for an organization that kills people and blows things up

on a regular basis?” Landon glanced at Ivy as he shoved clothes in his duffel. She’d already been packed

and waiting for him when he got back to their room, and was now leaning against the doorframe. “He

actually told me it was okay to get mad at people, but it wasn’t okay to yell at them, call them names, or—

heaven forbid—hit them. Forget Buchanan and I were in combative training using pugil sticks on each

other when the fight started. Or that the rabid wolf attacked me first. He gave me a placating smile and told

me if I resort to violence, I’m no better than the other person.”

“What’d you say?”

He zipped his bag. “That turning your back on an enraged werewolf had to be the dumbest idea I’ve

ever heard.”

Ivy’s lips curved. “I’m with you on that. How’d that go over with Marlon?”

Landon opened his mouth to answer, but his cell phone cut him off. He swore as he dug in the pocket

of his jeans. If it was Todd saying he needed another session with Doctor Doofus, he was going to throw

the phone through a wall.

He didn’t bother to look at the call display. “What?”

“Whoa. Someone got up on the wrong side of the sleeping bag this morning. Hello to you, too, dude.”

“Angelo, how the hell are you, man? You back from deployment?” Landon grinned. It was good to hear

that voice.

“We got in a couple days ago. With both you and LT gone, the battalion considered us nonoperational

and sent us home.”

“Everyone?”

“Roger that. We’re all in one piece.”

Landon breathed a sigh of relief. “That’s good to hear.”

“So, what the hell’d you do, sleep with some general’s daughter and get demoted to pushing papers at

the Pentagon?”

Landon chuckled. “Nah. Believe it or not, I got transferred to the Department of Homeland Security. Or

at least an organization within it.”

“No shit. Well, damn. We’re thinking of going up to DC this weekend. You want to grab a beer with the

guys and me?”

“I don’t want you guys burning up your leave on me.”

“It’s a few days. And we were heading up there to see LT anyway. Besides, Diaz grew up in the DC area

and says there are some sweet clubs up there.”

Landon shook his head. Diaz. Should have known. “Since you’re coming up anyway, why the hell not?

When do you want to get together?”

“How about tomorrow night around 2000 hours at this place called DC Scandals?”

Landon cupped the phone with his hand and looked at Ivy. “You ever heard of DC Scandals?”

She nodded. “I’ve heard of it, but I’ve never been there. I know where it is, though.”

“Who are you talking to?” Angelo asked.

“My partner.”

“Invite him along so we can meet him.”

Landon’s mouth twitched. “He’s a she.”

Angelo made a sound that was a half laugh, half snort. “Well, then definitely invite her.”

Landon hesitated. After the kiss, they’d both agreed to keep things purely professional, and going to a

place with a name like DC Scandals screamed anything but professional. It wasn’t as if they were going

alone, though. If he knew his team, they’d all be there.

He cupped his hand over the phone again. “Some of the guys from my old team are coming up this

weekend. You want to go out for a drink with us?”

Her lips curved. “Sure. Sounds like fun.”

There was no good reason why her answer made him want to pump the air with his fist, but it did. He

resisted the urge—barely—and told Angelo they’d both be there.

***

At the risk of making it sound like a date, Landon offered to pick Ivy up, but she said she needed more

time to get ready and would meet him at the club. Finding Angelo and the guys wasn’t difficult. They’d

clearly picked two tables where they could easily scope out the door, and shoved them together. They

waved him over the minute he walked in. Angelo and Diaz were there, along with Marks, Deray, Griffen,

Tredeau, and Mickens. Almost his entire team. It was good to see them.

“The rest of the guys would have come, but the battalion didn’t want the whole team on block leave at

the same time.” Angelo caught the waitress’s eye and gestured for another round of beers. “So, tell us about

this Homeland Security gig.”

Griffen finished what was left of his beer in one swallow. The guy had to have gills hiding somewhere.

“We spent the whole drive up here speculating.”

Landon was about to say he couldn’t tell them very much, but the waitress appeared with the round of

beers Angelo ordered. She gave Landon and the rest of the guys a smile, her gaze lingering on Deray as she

reminded them they knew where to find her if they needed anything. The dark-haired engineer gave her a

wink.

“Okay, spill,” Angelo said when she left.

Landon took a swig of beer. “Not much to tell. I work for an organization that’s under the Department

of Homeland Security.”

Tredeau grabbed a handful of pretzels from the bowl in the center of the table. “What kind of work are

you doing?”

“Can’t really talk about it.” Which bothered the hell out of him since these guys were like family. “All I

can say is that it’s closer to CIA shit than Special Forces work.”

Deray leaned forward, one hand on his beer bottle. “Tex-Mex said you have a female partner? What’s

that like?”

Landon chuckled. “It took a little while to get used to, but outside of you guys, there’s no one I’d want

covering my ass more than Ivy.”

“Where is she, by the way?” Angelo ran his hand through his shoulder-length hair as he glanced at the

door. “You said she was coming.”

“She’ll be here in a bit. Enough about me. What happened with you guys after I left?”

He wanted to change the subject. He’d been caught off guard by Ivy the first time he’d met her. No

reason Angelo and the other guys shouldn’t be, too. Besides, he’d driven himself crazy for weeks now

wondering what happened to his team.

“We went back to Qari’s place with Bennett. Used a BLU-129 to take out the tango, then went in and

collected up all the intel we could.” Angelo snorted. “Battalion wanted to temporarily dissolve the team to

fill shortages in the other A-teams, but Johnson wouldn’t put up with that shit. He made such a fuss they

shipped us back the next day.”

Landon should have known Master Sergeant Johnson would take care of the guys. Johnson could get

away with damn near anything.

“Whoa,” Angelo breathed, his dark eyes going to the door. “Hot babe at two o’clock.”

Landon turned to see Ivy sauntering in. His mouth fell open. He’d seen her in everything from the black

DCO uniform to a tank top and pair of panties, and thought she looked sexy as hell in all of it, but tonight,

hot babe was the only way to describe her. In a short, sleeveless dress with makeup accentuating her exotic,

dark eyes and her long, usually straight hair hanging down her back in soft waves, she was perfection on a

pair of high heels.

He got her attention and waved her over, then glanced at his friends. “That’s Ivy.”

Someone at the table—make that a few of them—choked on their beer.

“That’s your partner?” Deray asked. “Do they have any more openings in this organization? If they do,

I’m requesting a transfer the minute we get back to Campbell.”

“I’ll just skip the transfer and go straight to the third date, thank you very much,” Diaz said.

Landon chuckled. “Careful, boys. She can rip out your guts in a heartbeat.”

“It’d be worth it,” Mickens said.

Landon wasn’t sure if he was jealous or proud. Probably a bit of both. And because he knew he could

trust his teammates not to mess with his partner, he’d concentrate on being more proud than jealous.

He made the introductions, starting with Diaz and finishing with Angelo, who grinned and told Ivy she

wouldn’t be paying for anything she ordered from the bar.

“The guys and I have you covered.”

They also regaled her with every embarrassing story they had about Landon—and there were a lot.

When they launched into the one about the time their operating base had been attacked in the middle of

Landon’s weekly shower and he’d run out wearing nothing but a flak jacket and a pair of combat boots

while carrying his M4, he decided things were getting a bit too personal.

“Okay,” he said. “That’s the end of the stories. That’s an order.”

Ivy laughed. “But I want to hear what happened.”

Landon liked the way her eyes sparkled when she laughed. He chuckled. “I fired my weapon until I was

out of bullets. End of story.”

In the back corner of the club, the DJ put on a song with a dance beat. It sounded like Justin

Timberlake. At least Landon thought it did—with back-to-back deployments he hadn’t really kept up with

who sang what.

Beside him, Ivy sat up straighter. “I love this song. Who wants to dance with me?”

She was looking at Landon as if she expected him to be the one to offer. He wanted to. God, how he

wanted to. But dancing with Ivy could be dangerous. Correction—it would most definitely be dangerous.

And yet if he didn’t, he’d be kicking himself later. Unfortunately, by the time he got his tongue loosened

from the roof of his mouth, everyone else at the table was already on their feet.

“I’m junior in rank,” Diaz pointed out. “So, you guys can suck it up. Take care of your troops,

remember?” He came around the table and held out his hand to Ivy. “Lead the way, fine lady.”

She gave Landon a small smile, then took Diaz’s hand. Landon didn’t join in when the rest of the guys

cheered Diaz on. He was too busy kicking himself.

Ivy danced the same way she did everything—gracefully. She swayed to the sexy beat, lifting her arms

above her head as she moved her hips, and it was all Landon could do not to groan. Dragging his gaze away

from her, he picked up his beer and took a long swallow, hoping it would cool him off. On the other side

of the table, Mickens eyed him thoughtfully. The medic had an uncanny way of knowing what other people

were thinking. That was great when it came to the enemy. When it came to him, not so much. All he needed

were his friends figuring out he was lusting after his partner.

“Be real, Captain,” Mickens said. “No freakin’ way is that woman dancing with Diaz your partner.”

Meaning how the hell did he get paired up with a hot number like Ivy. The guys were all looking at him

—when they weren’t sneaking peeks at her on the dance floor—like he’d won the lottery. He’d think so,

too, if it wasn’t for that lame rule he had about not getting involved with someone he worked with ever

again. “I’m shootin’ straight here. She’s my partner.”

“And she does Homeland Security stuff, like go after terrorists and shit?”

Landon chuckled. Good to know he wasn’t the only one who underestimated her. “Yeah, she goes after

terrorists and shit.” That raised more than one eyebrow. “Look, what I’m going to tell you is for your ears

only. Got it?” They nodded. “Ivy’s qualified with more small arms weapons than you can name. She’s had

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