Ranger's Baby Surprise (Special Forces Elite 2)

Out of the forty girls on the dance squad, Heather was the one I had spent the most time with. We had been paired together at summer training camp. Sharing a room with her hadn’t been all that bad. She took dancing seriously—we had that in common. It just wasn’t the same kind of dance.

I learned quickly that the other girls didn’t want to hear about my training in ballet. They didn’t care who I studied under. They were here because it was a lifelong dream to be a Goddess dancer. Some of them were third generation legacy girls. Unlike them, I wasn’t trying to get a modeling contract or snag a spot in a player’s bed.

I had bills to pay, and when no one would take an injured ballerina, the Warriors took me in. I did appreciate the money. I couldn’t shake the rest of it. When I took the job in May, I thought eventually I’d wrap my pride around the concept of being on a dance squad, but my pride never backed down. I was a ballerina, and a respectable ballerina wouldn’t do what I did, even if it meant not getting evicted.

I sighed. If I didn’t go tonight, the girls would blame me. They would glare at me in the locker room, and every time I walked in the practice studio, they would hold me accountable for the game’s outcome. I wasn’t ready to start off the season that way. We didn’t have to be best friends, but we did work together.

“Fine,” I agreed. “Text me the bar’s address and I’ll meet you there.”

She squealed. “Awesome!”

“But one drink,” I warned. “I want to be home before ten.”

I wasn’t going to bother changing out of my workout clothes. I liked the fitted yoga pants and the lavender top. It reminded me to always move through space with graceful intention. One of the skills Madame Collette had drilled into me.

“That’s all you have to do. I promise. One drink with the girls, and there’s no way they can lose. And you know how they like to win.” I heard the giggle in her voice.

Again, this was silly, but I had joined silly. I was a part of team silly. I grabbed my bag and walked out the door.

3

Sam

The lights were dim. Dim enough that I hoped none of the locals recognized us. Despite Stubbs’ cocky speech, I felt pretty safe invading Warrior territory on a Sunday night. There was a guy on stage singing something about a road trip he took. I stared at my glass of water.

Wes came up behind me and slapped me on the back. “Sticking to the hard stuff?”

“Yeah.”

He held up his fingers to the bartender. “Two bourbons, neat.”

The guy already had them poured before I could turn down the drink. It didn’t help that I had a reputation from my rookie season. It was like rushing a fraternity when I was drafted. I made damn sure the veterans liked me, especially Wes.

Wes grinned. “To tomorrow night’s win.” He clinked his glass against mine and kicked back the thick liquor. I didn’t have a choice. I swallowed it and felt the fire from my throat to my belly.

“That’s good shit.” He slapped me on the back.

“Thanks for the drink.”

He pointed to the bartender. “Another round.”

Shit, he was just getting started. I took the second round and it went down smoother than the first.

“I know where to find you tomorrow night, don’t I?” he asked.

“Hell, yeah. The end zone.”

Wes was part of the reason my numbers had broken so many records. He liked throwing to me. And it worked. W

e were a winning combination.

“Just keep open.” He winked.

“Shouldn’t be a problem with the defense the Warriors run.”

We both laughed. We had a right to be cocky and arrogant. We were defending national champions. We earned the fucking right to boast. Not only that, but any chance to take a crack at the Warriors, we took.

Wes’s eyebrows waggled. “Check that out.” He tipped his head and I followed his eyes.