Total pages in book: 148
Estimated words: 139606 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 698(@200wpm)___ 558(@250wpm)___ 465(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 139606 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 698(@200wpm)___ 558(@250wpm)___ 465(@300wpm)
“I didn’t tell him anything, and Kala acts like a psycho around him so he thinks Kara is a complete nutbag,” Kenzie complained.
Her dad’s eyes didn’t open, but his lips curled up slightly.
It was time to point some things out to her sisters. Her dad was entirely too amused with Kala’s antics. “It’s actually a problem because he has remarked several times how completely different Kara seems on different days. I think now that he’s verified Kara is an operative he might just view it as a ploy to keep her target on his or her toes, but you two need to get your act together. Kara needs to be one seamless version of the two of you or it’s going to get out that you’re twins.”
“See, when you talk like that you make sense. So explain to me why you’re doing your sisters’ job?” He reached up and grasped her mom’s hand, gently pulling her until she was sitting on his lap, one big arm around her waist.
This was something she was extremely used to. Her parents’ displays of physical affection had been one of the foundations of her childhood. When she’d first come home with them it had been such a weird thing. There had been no physical affection at the orphanage. No hugs or pats on the back. Touching seemed like a bad thing as it only came with corporal punishment. It had been easier to accept affection from the children who had become her sisters and brothers, but eventually she’d allowed Ian and Charlotte Taggart to bring her into their warm hugs, and soon those hugs had become a safe place for her.
Dare was so alone. As alone as she’d been in that orphanage. He’d accepted her affection and soaked it all up and freaking bloomed as a top and a boyfriend.
He wouldn’t touch her again. She was afraid he might not really touch anyone again.
She’d done that to him.
“I met him our second night here in Sydney at a pub. I talked to him and liked him and I…”
“Yes, we got that,” her father said. “We do not need to talk about what happened next in any detail at all. Let’s move on to the ‘why didn’t you call in when the parameters changed’ portion of this discussion.”
Her mom gave her a smile. “We’ll do the details later. Away from your father’s tender ears.”
“There’s a reason I said no honey pots,” her dad complained.
“It wasn’t a honey pot.” They needed to understand what had really happened. “It was a ‘get back on the horse’ situation, and the horse turned out to be the right horse this time. Like the horse I would like to ride until the end.”
“We need better metaphors,” Lou said under her breath.
TJ chuckled and winked Lou’s way. “I think she’s doing great. And she’s right. Chet was not the right horse.”
“He’s a giant horse’s ass,” Cooper pointed out. “And you know why we didn’t call in.”
“Yes, Zach’s already given me the whole sink or swim talk,” her father argued.
“It wasn’t dangerous,” Tasha countered. “Not to us, at least. There was absolutely no way to know that we were working at cross purposes with our allies since the Agency chose not to inform us there were two teams on the ground.”
“You would have been informed if you’d called in,” her dad insisted. “Drake would have told you. You were on a need-to-know basis, and you didn’t need to know until the target changed. I don’t blame you. I blame Zach, and I’m going to fire his ass.”
“I agreed with him.” She wasn’t about to cost Zach his job even if she was angry.
“That’s some hypocrisy, Uncle Ian.” Tristan’s eyes had come up.
The uncle in this case didn’t denote a blood bond between Tristan and her father. They’d grown up in a big found family, and it had been easier to call the adults who were around all their childhoods by aunt or uncle.
A brow rose over her father’s eyes, and they seemed to have gone an icy blue. “Care to elaborate, nephew?”
Everyone in the room seemed to take a step back. Except Tris. “I’m talking about your first solo op. You didn’t bother to call in and explain that the man who was supposed to get you into the meeting with the potential bomb maker was murdered the night before your meeting. You simply talked your way in and nearly got killed yourself.”
“Yeah, good times,” her father said. “And not something you’re supposed to know about since that op was highly classified. Have you been on the Dark Web again?”
“I like to keep my skills sharp. If you want to fire me, you should feel free,” Tris snarked.
“And let some other team pick you up and use your seemingly never-ending death wish to their advantage? I think I owe your fathers more than that.”