Join the Club (SWAT Generation 2.0 7)

I knew she didn’t. Any time that there was rain, either Booth or I went to pick Asa up from her if it was Booth’s weekend.

Neither one of us minded.

If she was uncomfortable, we weren’t going to be upset for wanting to keep her child safe.

“I know you don’t,” I rumbled softly. “You need help out?”

In answer, she slid out of the seat, and I once again got an up-close and personal view of her backside.

Was she doing this to me on purpose?

I really thought she might be.

And if she wasn’t, then goddamn, I would hate to see what it was like when she was trying.Chapter 2

Your favorite food.

-Things you shouldn’t Google when you’re hungry

Delanie

“That dog is badass,” Copeland said.

Copeland Black was the man that I was to meet, along with Copeland’s four-year-old son, August, aka Auggie.

Janvier Boudreaux, the man that had asked me to come and meet Copeland and Auggie, was sitting to Copeland’s right. On Janvier’s left was Massey, the three-year-old English Mastiff.

Massey, doing what he was trained to do, lay at Janvier’s feet, appearing to be asleep.

Auggie was playing on what looked to be an old-school Gameboy. He was flicking away at the buttons, his tongue between his teeth, looking as if he was fully immersed in the game.

Asa was like that, too.

They’d get along.

I knew it.

Which made me miss my happy little baby.

Asa and I had spent more time apart in the last six months than we’d ever spent apart before, and it was starting to fray my nerves.

I missed my baby.

I missed him a lot.

I also missed seeing his uncle, who seemed to stop by almost every single day, even if it was for a five-minute hug and cookie share.

“I didn’t know that it was supposed to rain more,” I said as I looked across the room at Bourne.

He was talking to his friend and fellow SWAT team member, Saint Nicholson. Saint was deep in conversation with Bourne, his hands moving wildly, and Bourne was nodding his head as if whatever Saint was saying was super important.

“Yes, it’s supposed to be bad. We have the chance of tornados,” Janvier continued. “Which means there’ll be lightning and thunder. Yay.”

Lightning and thunder were one of the things that set off Janvier’s PTSD episodes.

It was also why he’d gotten Massey in the end.

Texas was notorious for thunderstorms, and since Janvier wasn’t willing to move out of the state to a more weather-compliant area, he had to go off-roading when it came to his PTSD.

Which was where Massey came in.

“You leaving before it starts?” Copeland asked Janvier.

“You bet,” he said. “I don’t want to get caught here and have any problems. It’s overall a better idea for me to head home just in case.”

I agreed wholeheartedly.

From what I’d heard, Janvier was a fighter when he was in panic mode. One of the men that’d come with him to pick up Massey had been very vocal about how badly Janvier needed someone to get him under control.

Apparently, the last straw had been when Janvier had nearly shot a cop in his hysteria. That cop being his wife at the time.

Now, Janvier was divorced, and he had a dog that kept him warm at night, not a woman.

According to the men here today, anyway.

I looked at my watch and wondered if it was too early to leave.

I’d been here for an hour, and now I was regretting asking Bourne to ride with me.

Social functions gave me heartburn.

I’d gone to enough over the course of my life to realize rather fast that they just weren’t for me.

My father, David, had been a career military man.

But just because he was career military didn’t mean he wasn’t rich.

He got that from his family back home in Iceland. Mainly his father, my grandfather, who was now deceased.

My grandmother—his mother—was still alive and kicking. For now.

But the time would eventually come that she would pass, and when that day came, my father would officially be a billionaire.

Which meant all the social functions that he attended would only get more frequent—not that I cared anymore.

Ever since I’d had Asa, I was ‘cast out’ so to speak.

My father didn’t talk to me.

He did talk about me, though, which was sometimes even worse.

He let everyone know that I was a little slut who didn’t deserve half of what I got.

“Do you charge for these dogs?”

The question was asked by a woman off to the side. I think that I heard her name was Jamie, but I wasn’t quite sure because she hadn’t actually been introduced, per se. She’d just shown up and started hanging on Copeland’s arm.

Copeland’s son, Auggie, had taken one look at her and ignored her for all he was worth.

Copeland had tried to do the same, but the girl just wasn’t taking the hint.

“Of course she charges,” Janvier said. “Otherwise she couldn’t make a living.”