Total pages in book: 33
Estimated words: 31616 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 158(@200wpm)___ 126(@250wpm)___ 105(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 31616 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 158(@200wpm)___ 126(@250wpm)___ 105(@300wpm)
Right now, the decoy fighter jets are just that. They look like all the rest, but they have none of the capabilities of a real one. They’re only a distraction that has a high chance of being shot down. That's the whole point of it.
“A few years?” Ocean asks with intrigue in her tone, knowing that I must have some kind of information.
“Okay, maybe a year,” I admit.
I’m not the one building the damn things. However, I have been helping with some of the technology behind part of it. Some of Ocean’s own mechanics are being used as well. We’ve played together for so long I know how to weave our work together.
This is probably going to come as a shock, but I’ve become a little obsessed with evading and stealth technology. Also with scanning and picking up someone trying to use it.
To this day, I’m still annoyed that I never found my husband's planted surveillance in my own home. It made me realize that sometimes using a bit of basic technology can help you go undetected at times.
It also made Duffy and me come to a new agreement. I was kidnapped by one of her agents, who tried to kill my husband. I only agreed to work with her, no one else. I know it puts her at ease that when we do meet up, my security detail is Owen, my father, and always my eyes in the sky, Ocean.
“Fine, but I’m getting one.” I fight back a laugh. She has no reason to own one, but if that’s what she wants, then who am I to stop her from having it?
“Obviously,” I agree. It could come in handy one day, I’m sure.
“How’s my little munchkin?” I lean over and pull the curtain away from the window. I see my father out in the field behind our new farmhouse taking large steps which I know he’s counting. Matilda mimics him the best she can with her little legs as Alfie perches on the fence and keeps an eye on everything. I love watching them together.
I hadn’t been wrong about knowing Owen and my father would get along. Owen knew my dad and I were kind of a package deal. In fact, when we looked at this place, he asked if my dad would like it too.
“Busy. I think a new bomb shelter is in the works.”
“Really? I’ve come up with a new locking mechanism. I bet your dad would love it.” I let out a small laugh.
“I’m sure he would. Bring it or the plans over for dinner on Sunday.”
We have dinner together once a week. Ocean is Matilda’s godmother even though she can be a bit crazy at times. Not that I have a ton of room to talk, but I know she’d never let anything happen to our baby girl. She’s just as protective and fierce as we are.
I rub my hand against the small bump already forming for our second baby. A boy this time. I wonder what he’ll be like. I love that Matilda has a little bit of both Owen and me in her. It’s so fascinating to me to watch her bloom.
I’ve spent my life reading computer programs in order to predict someone’s next move. It’s not that way with children. They surprise you at every turn. It’s refreshing and makes me think this is what I missed with my own mother.
“Owen going to make apple pie?” Ocean asks. I’m married to one of the world's most deadly men, but all my family and friends can think about is his fresh apple pie.
“I’m sure I can make that happen,” I agree before we end the call.
“Ace.” Owen kisses the freckle behind my ear. “Did you miss me?”
“Kinda,” I tease. I always miss him, but I also know where he is at all times. He doesn’t let me get far, either.
He turns me in my chair to face him. He doesn’t go on missions—or jobs, as you might call them—often, but sometimes there really is no other choice. As crazy and obsessive as I can be, I trust my husband. It also might be because I always have eyes on him. What can I say? Some things never change.
“Are you doing all right?” He leans down and kisses my small baby bump.
“No more morning sickness, so that’s a plus for me. My dad, however, asked for a ton of concrete to be delivered.”
“I know.” Owen chuckles. “There are far better products we can use for his bomb shelter.” He runs his hand through his hair.
“It’s a cute summer project for him and Matilda to do.” I remember building one with my father when I was a little girl. It’s a memory I always hold on tightly to.
“I agree, but I’d help them along.” I don’t know why he’s so worried about this. I’ll cover their tracts and clean up after them. Order some of the things my dad wants without being red-flagged.