Tied Over (Marshals #6) Read Online Mary Calmes

Categories Genre: Crime, M-M Romance, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Marshals Series by Mary Calmes
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Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 78364 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
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“Yeah, but I’m thinking this is your time with your dad too, right? I mean, he lives here, and you live in New York.”

“But Vanessa told me this morning she wanted some alone time with him.”

I nodded. “Well, then, that’s very nice of you.”

“Thanks.”

We were quiet for a bit.

“How long’ve you been here?” I prodded her.

“Since Wednesday.”

“I just got here.”

“I know. I didn’t see you before.”

I squinted at her because she was staring up at my face. “What’s wrong?”

“Are you hungry?”

“A little. Are you hungry?”

She nodded.

“Yanno, the food is on that big table in the dining room. I can see it from here. Why don’t you just go get a plate?”

“I was going to, but Uncle Luke is by the macaroni and cheese, and if I go over there when he’s there, he’s gonna ask me to go swimming in the pool or see if I want to play hide-and-seek again.”

“And you don’t like to do that stuff?”

“No, I like it. I just don’t like to do it with him.”

Instantly, I bristled, all my protective instincts hitting me like a wave. “How come?”

She shrugged. “If he finds me when I’m hiding, he tickles me or kisses me, and when he kisses me, he tries to put his tongue in my mouth, which is gross, and when he tickles me, he always pulls up my shirt.”

I nodded. “I wouldn’t like that either.”

“That’s not how me and my friends play at home, but he says that’s right.”

“It’s not right,” I assured her. “When you’re found, you’re supposed to race whoever finds you back to home base, and if you beat them, you get to hide again.”

“Yeah,” she agreed, nodding vigorously.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Yeah.”

I took a breath, afraid to ask but needing to know. “Uncle Luke, did he touch your chest under your shirt?”

She shook her head. “No. I ran away.”

I hadn’t realized I’d been holding my breath. “Good.”

“He didn’t take off my pants either.”

That was my next question.

“Mom says the only people who can see me naked are her or my doctor, and she said she has to be with me if the doctor ever has to look at my private places.”

I smiled at her. “That’s correct.”

“Uncle Luke didn’t try and take off my pants, but I was afraid he was going to since he kept lifting my shirt.”

“So you stayed away from him.”

She nodded.

“That was very good thinking.”

Her face brightened. “It was?”

“Oh yes,” I assured her. “If you feel like something is wrong, you have to go with your gut. That’s important.”

“My gut?”

“Like how you feel inside. You have to listen to that and follow what you think is right. Run away from what you think is wrong.”

“Okay.”

“You did really good.”

She was beaming up at me.

“Now listen, how about you and me go get some food together, and you can show me which one is your Uncle Luke. Would that be okay?”

“You’ll stay by me?”

“Yes, ma’am, I will.”

She bit her bottom lip. “You’re kinda hurt, though.”

“That’s true. But lemme show you something, all right?” Watching me, I saw her eyes get big when I stood up. “You see? I was sitting down so you couldn’t tell, and you probably thought I was small.”

“You’re really big.”

“And it’s only this arm right here that’s hurt. All the rest of me is good.”

“Yeah. You’re bigger than Luke—I mean, Uncle Luke.”

Little slip there. “Luke isn’t your uncle, is he?” I asked as she stood up beside me, slipping her hand into mine as we walked toward the two enormous tables covered in food.

“No. He’s my Uncle Giles’s friend, and he said I should call him uncle because everybody does. I understand because my mom has friends like my Aunt Viv and my Aunt Marta who aren’t related to me but I call aunt anyway.”

“Sure, that makes sense.”

At the table, I took a plate and passed it to her, surveying the other kids: five in the pool and another three playing what looked like tag. Four women sat by the pool, observing them; two men were racing the kids who were running around, while a man and a young boy were flying a kite. All the children were supervised except Stella.

“Hey, Star,” a man said, stepping up on the opposite side of the table and grabbing a plate, his entire focus on the little girl. “I’ve been waiting for you. I thought you were hungry?”

She nodded and looked up at me.

“Macaroni and cheese, right?” I asked her.

“Yeah.”

“Okay, here’s the spoon,” I said, passing it to her. “Pile it on.”

“Don’t eat those beans,” she said, pointing at the baked ones. “My mom says that most people make them with way too much brown sugar and they’ll give you the runs.”

I snorted. “Do you even know what the runs are?”

She gestured for me to bend down close, then whispered in my ear, “Squirtles.”



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