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The mamba slithered down to the floor and then shifted. Bailey sniffed at Aspen, who’d also shifted and was pulling on her clothes. “You can’t blame my snake for the fight this time. She was all the way up there minding her own business. Your bearcat provoked her.”
Aspen tossed Bailey’s clothes at her. “You missed out the part where your shit-stirring mamba took my bearcat’s bamboo shoots up there with her.”
“She was hungry.”
“She doesn’t eat bamboo shoots.”
“She wanted to try something different.”
“No, the bitch wanted to pick a fight, so she did.”
Bailey wagged her finger. “Don’t act like your bearcat is all innocent. She stole the batteries out of my vibrator. Again. And I would love to know where they are, because I have a feeling that more of my stuff is in her private stash—like my unicorn voodoo doll.”
Aspen leaned toward the mamba. “She didn’t touch your stupid vibrator, or your stupid unicorn.”
Havana wrinkled her nose at Aspen. “I do hope your bearcat didn’t put her hands anywhere near another person’s vibrator, but she is inappropriate enough to explore someone’s underwear drawer. Tell me she didn’t snatch any of Bailey’s thongs or panties.”
“I don’t wear thongs,” said Bailey, folding her arms. “Don’t see why anyone would want to. You’re just buying a wedgie.”
Tate coughed out a laugh and put a fist to his mouth.
Sighing, Havana pointed from Aspen to Bailey. “You two need to get a handle on your inner animals before they do some permanent damage to each other.”
Bailey’s brow furrowed. “My mamba would never really hurt Aspen or her bearcat. She loves them. She just also has the best time driving them to the brink of insanity. Is that so terrible?”
Aspen flexed her fingers. “Just because you long ago tumbled over said brink doesn’t mean I want to.”
“But it’s more fun on this side,” said Bailey.
As her girls continued to argue, Havana turned to Tate and said, “I know, I know, they’re crazy.”
Tate pulled her close. “On the upside, it means they’ll fit perfectly in my pride.”
Havana felt her brows lift. “Well, there is that.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Entering his living room the next morning, Tate frowned. “What are you doing here?”
Sitting on the sofa with Bailey, Aspen briefly looked away from the TV and replied, “We wanted to talk with Havana, but we heard you two fucking like bunnies upstairs so figured we’d just wait here.”
“You couldn’t have just called?” he asked.
“That would have been lazy when she’s such a short walk away,” said Bailey. “Love your TV, by the way. It’s way bigger than mine, and the quality of the picture is ace.”
“Yep,” agreed Aspen. “We so need one of these for our movie nights.”
Bailey’s eyes widened. “Ooh, yeah, that would be cool.”
“How did you even get in here?” Tate cut in. “And why didn’t one of my enforcers stop you?” No one got inside unless he invited them in—his cats knew that.
Aspen scratched her cheek. “Yeah, I don’t think they know we’re here. And getting inside was easy—the front door was unlocked.”
His frown deepened. “No, it wasn’t.”
Bailey lifted her shoulders. “How else would we have gotten inside?”
Probably with the skills they’d learned when working for the Movement. Which his cat respected, despite the feline not being too keen on people turning up to his lair uninvited.
God, it was too early in the morning to deal with this. Tate sighed. “I need coffee.”
“There’s some in the pot,” said Bailey.
With a grunt, he headed for the kitchen. Havana descended the stairs mere moments later. She briefly spoke with her girls in the living room, but their voices were too muffled for him to make out the words.
Entering the kitchen, Havana took the mug of coffee he held out. “Thanks.”
Leaning against the counter with a cup in hand, he gently drew her closer so that she stood between his legs. And just like that, his irritation at her friends slipped away. “You’re welcome.” He sipped at his coffee. “Do you want to tell me why Aspen and Bailey are here?”
“Apparently, Dieter turned up at my apartment this morning looking for me.”
Tate felt his face harden. His cat bared a fang. “Is that so?”
“They said he looked like a kicked puppy, so I’m guessing he intended to apologize for how he acted last time he was there.”
“Maybe, but I still don’t like it.” Tate suspected the man still wanted her, which was why he’d told her guards to contact him if Dieter approached her. “You say he’s your friend, but I don’t think he’s much of one. And yeah, I also don’t like that this guy you once cared for is still in your life—I’ll own that. But I’d set it aside if he was a good friend to you.”
Havana leaned into him. Some women got off on displays of jealousy from their men, but she wasn’t one of them. “I get it. I don’t like that Ashlynn’s around. It also isn’t easy for me to know that you’ve had flings with some of your pride mates, but none of them have tried poaching and—unlike Ashlynn—they’ve all been perfectly civil, so I don’t let it get to me. You don’t need to feel threatened by Dieter’s presence any more than I need to feel threatened by theirs or Ashlynn’s. They’re all just parts of our past. That’s it.”
