Total pages in book: 132
Estimated words: 135442 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 677(@200wpm)___ 542(@250wpm)___ 451(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 135442 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 677(@200wpm)___ 542(@250wpm)___ 451(@300wpm)
“And I think he’s serious as fuck worse than you think he is,” he returned.
“Huh,” she pushed out noncommittally.
“We’ll talk later. I’ll text when I’m done and meet you wherever you are.”
“This would be a mall, Boone,” she informed him.
“So?”
“Seeing as you’re a commando, and as such, a card-carrying member of the Extreme Alphas Club, won’t you go into anaphylactic shock if you step foot in a mall?” she asked.
“Stop being a smartass.”
“That’s like telling me to stop being blonde. And you haven’t had the chance to see the evidence…yet, but I’m natural.”
He was partial to blondes.
Not to mention brats.
And, he was learning, smartasses.
“Gotta go,” he said.
“Later,” she said.
“Later, sweetheart.”
He disconnected and looked to the table.
The minute he did, Luke remarked, “Jesus Christ, I just had a killer flashback.”
Lee burst out laughing.
Ally ignored this and pointed out, “I didn’t hear you ask her to approach Cisco for us.”
“I wanna see her face when I ask that shit,” Boone replied.
Though she’d say yes.
He knew it.
And now she had Cisco’s number.
Goddamn it.
“Then we got only one issue left to discuss, this being Bogart putting everyone in this room on notice,” Rush remarked.
“Rumblings?” Lee asked Hank.
“Half the cops wish they could operate without regs like you do,” Hank told his brother. “Half of them don’t give a shit what you do. There might be outliers who get frustrated, though they wouldn’t bring that to Eddie, or me, Mitch or Slim.”
Slim being Brock’s handle.
“And I think this problem with how you men do your thing is only an issue if you’re dirty,” Hank continued. “Or up to shit you don’t want attention on, seeing as people in this room operate in circles where they might get that attention.”
“In other words, you don’t think this is a problem for anyone but a couple allegedly dirty cops,” Lee pressed.
“I think, when the Rock Chicks were at their zenith, yes, it was a problem. I think when Chaos was at war, yes, it was a problem. I think what Sebring does gets under some skin, but not enough for it to be a problem. I think Delgado operates on a level that’s well beyond their scope, so it shouldn’t be a problem. And I think things calming down lately, none of this is any longer a problem,” Hank replied.
“The Dream Team was kidnapped a couple of months ago, Hank,” Ally reminded him. “That’s not exactly Tex blowing up a building or Stella’s apartment exploding, but it isn’t exactly calm.”
“With what we’ve seen, done and experienced, not a person at this table wanders around anything less than vigilant,” Hank said. “We stay vigilant. We keep our ears and eyes open. We might be wading into exposing two dirty cops, that’s gonna happen anyway. That’s enough to worry about. Bogart is already filth, even if he’s not a dirty cop. I don’t really give a shit what he thinks about how my brother manages his business. So it goes without saying I don’t care what his friends think.”
Ally conceded the point with a tip of her head to the side.
“Then we start with Ryn asking Cisco for a sit-down. She gets it, we plan that, keep her covered, and reconvene when she gets whatever she gets,” Hawk decreed.
Mag locked eyes with Boone.
Boone clenched his hand around the phone he was still holding.
Mo, who was sitting next to him, reached around and grabbed Boone by the back of the neck.
He gave a tight squeeze and let him go.
Boone forced himself to relax.
He let out a breath.
And the meeting was finished.
Chapter Eight
Just Right
Boone
Boone did not have a good feeling about the fact that Ryn had informed him she was in the bridal department of Nordstrom.
He had a worse feeling as he approached the bridal department of Nordstrom and saw, lazing around on couches, various members of the Rock Chicks and all of the Dream Team.
In a nutshell, it was Indy, Roxie, Daisy and Shirleen of the RCs.
And Ryn, Evie, Hattie and Pepper of the Dream.
Pepper was up and not wearing a bridal gown.
She was modeling a trench coat.
“Secret agent woman!” Daisy was shouting in her country lilt. “We need to find you a fedora!”
Boone’s eyes wandered, and if he was not wrong, it was Daisy’s kid toddling around on the floor with Lee and Indy’s two, along with Roxie’s brood.
Boone wanted kids.
He wanted three, like his family.
Though not all boys. If he had his choice, there’d be at least one girl.
However, he’d take them as they came and not be disappointed.
When he found the right woman, he wanted a big house with lots happening all the time. He wanted to be busy with sports and recitals and teaching kids how to drive and helping them with their homework and then graduations and weddings, all this until he retired.
Then he’d park his and his woman’s asses by whichever kid lived where they wanted to live, buy a house with a pool, and the only things he had to do was keep the pool clean and put up with his children giving him shit about spoiling his grandchildren.