Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 133213 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 666(@200wpm)___ 533(@250wpm)___ 444(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 133213 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 666(@200wpm)___ 533(@250wpm)___ 444(@300wpm)
Didn’t he know it. Apparently everyone did. “Yeah, and he brought helicopters full of armed assassins with him. Guess he was serious about being a danger to us.”
His father pointed a finger his way. “I knew he thought he was protecting you. You’ve talked to him?”
He didn’t want to lie to his da. “Yes. But Carys doesn’t know we’ve been communicating on a regular basis. She absolutely doesn’t know he’s the guy I’ve been playing games with online for the last year or so. It was oddly the easiest way for us to talk.”
Because Tristan knew how to ping a signal across the globe.
“Do you want to keep something like that from your fiancée?” his father asked.
“Tristan didn’t think it was a good idea to bring her in. He thought she would freak out. And he’s not wrong. Carys can be stubborn when she thinks she’s right.” It was one of the reasons their threesome worked. He was the go between for two very strong personalities.
He wasn’t certain Tristan and Carys wouldn’t self-immolate if left alone. Not that he didn’t have his own situation. When he and Carys were alone they fell into patterns and routines, and found it difficult to break them. Especially since they were in the same field and could understand the pressures on each other. It sounded like perfection, but sometimes they required an outside force to remind them both there was something to life beyond studying and surgery and rounds. Tristan would have laughed if Aidan had told him they needed to go to a symposium on cutting-edge surgical techniques for their honeymoon. Tristan would have told him to stuff the conference or if it was important enough, to postpone the honeymoon. Instead, he and Carys had decided to be practical.
Tristan was the one who constantly pushed her boundaries. The one who could get her to cry.
Aidan was fairly certain Carys hadn’t cried in two years.
Was it all about to fall apart? He had no idea what he would do if he lost Carys, too.
“What’s going on, son?” His da stared at him with intelligent green eyes. “I know you haven’t wanted to talk about it, and your mother and I have honored your privacy, but it’s past time.”
Aidan shook his head. “I know very little, Da. I know a few years ago Tristan got involved in a long-running operation with one of the Agency teams he works with, and it got dangerous.”
“But Ian says he doesn’t know anything.”
The man known as Big Tag had been his father’s “brother” for most of his life. Aidan wasn’t about to throw him under the bus. “According to Tristan, he didn’t tell Uncle Ian. This wasn’t the team he’s on with the twins. Because Tristan is technically Army intelligence, he’s allowed to work all over the place. He works with military teams and Agency teams, but he doesn’t share information between them. I don’t know entirely how it works, but I know everyone’s frustrated with him. Unless they’re all lying to me and they’re in on it.”
“I know the twins. They would find a way to tell you if they knew something. If they believed this would all get sorted soon, they would have found a way to…” His father frowned. “Oh, I hope this wasn’t Kala’s way of forcing you to postpone the wedding. Sometimes that girl likes to play god. I wouldn’t be surprised if she found someone she didn’t like and set them up to do this knowing damn well we’d shoot an encroaching helo down.”
His cousin could be ruthless. “I don’t think so, Da.”
“Oh, she could do it,” a deep voice said. “If my daughter thought she could help her cousins out and get rid of someone who annoyed her at the same time, she would set it up. She believes in multitasking, however, I assure you she wouldn’t have put the kids in danger.”
Aidan looked over and the man, the myth, the legend himself was standing there, and he wasn’t alone. Tristan was beside him, looking worse for the wear. His security uniform was wrinkled, and his usually perfectly messy hair was just messy. He had a small cut on his jawline, and there were singe marks on the sleeve covering his left bicep.
He hadn’t thought to check on Tristan. Damn it. He’d been so fucking angry he hadn’t done his job. “Did you get hit?”
Ian huffed and slapped a hand gently upside Tristan’s head. “He’s fine. He got a taste of what could have happened because unlike the smarter members of my team, he forgot to duck when the bullets went flying. I’ve trained you poorly. Come Monday you’ll be back in school. After a couple of spontaneous sniping attempts, you’ll get better at ducking.”
“I didn’t want to let them out of my sights,” Tristan corrected and frowned at Ian. “They could have gotten away.”