Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 75640 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75640 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
“Not actually right where I’m sitting,” Arley promptly corrects. “Sometimes I get up. Dance around. It helps me think.” She innocently shrugs. “Process.”
He nods his comprehension. “Understood.”
“Hope you’re a Thirty Seconds to Mars fan because that is what I’m vibing to this morning.”
Yi’s forehead wrinkles in obvious discomfort. “Is that a…song?”
“It’s a boy band,” I reply, beam bright and crooked.
“It is so not a boy band!”
“They’re boys-”
“They’re men!”
“They hold instruments-”
“They play them!”
“Put the two together and what do you have?” Humor continues floating in my tone. “Boy band.”
“You’re standing in my office declaring war, I hope you know that.”
The corner of my lip lifts higher. “Excuse me, Angel Cake, but the song is actually called ‘This is War’.” My smirk deepens as does her glare. “You should really know that if you’re gonna call yourself a fangirl.”
“Should we start calling you a fanboy because you know that?”
“I prefer attentive boyfriend.”
She giggles, shakes her head, and sighs, “What am I gonna do with you?”
“Kiss me and tell me to stay safe,” I casually command during the short cross over to her, “and in a few hours kiss me hello and say you’re glad that I did?”
“I can do that, Cowboy.”
My frame leans forward for her arms to wind around my neck. “So do that, Angel Cake.”
Our mouths knock into one another’s and on instinct, I curl one hand around the back of her neck to keep her in place. Gentle presses meant to say goodbye don’t take long to turn into heavier pushes to indicate what I want her thinking about while I’m gone. By the time I pull back to rest my forehead against hers, she’s slightly panting.
And shaky.
And so fucking beautiful it sparks an ache in my chest.
“Stay safe, Slater.”
“And you…” my hand slides around to lovingly pinch her chin, “stay sweet, Arley.”
Arley simply nods once prior to planting a chaste kiss on my lips. “Go get ‘em, Cowboy.”
“You have been waitin’ way too long to say that, haven’t ya?”
Snickers are shot my direction on a gentle push away. “Get out of my office.”
With one final sweet smirk, I do the toughest shit I’ve had to do in weeks.
I leave Arley behind for a mission.
Except this time, it’s her life that hangs in the balance.
Chapter 16
Slater
Shutting off the SUV is followed by Reynolds leaning over between the seats. “I’m telling you. Dr. Rothwell may have terrible taste in dudes-”
“Because she wouldn’t fuck you?” Blu playfully interrupts as we turn to face him in tandem.
“She’s not my type.”
“Because she doesn’t spin around a pole covered in glitter?” I add to the jeering.
“Look, it’s not my fault I only have time to fuck strippers!”
“Yeah, man, that’s entirely your own fault,” my best friend argues between chuckles.
“My point is-”
“Oh good,” more snickers break free, “there was a point to this shit.”
“Terrible taste in dudes, fucking incredible taste in tech.” He displays a small black box in his open palm. “She created these new coms that not only allow for optimal communication between agents in remote locations but also give you the combined protection you’d get from using plugs and muffs at the range.”
An intrigued hum doesn’t hesitate to leave me. “Impressive.”
“She is when she’s not trying to light you on fire or electrocute you.”
“Is that really why you changed branches?” Blu investigates during another laugh.
“Can we just um…” he flips open the item, “go over all this shit one more time?”
Blu retrieves the tactical tablet from under his seat, enters his passcode, and then props it on the dash for everyone to view. “It’s simple but stringent. We go in hot and quiet. Due to the really tight schedule Guggenheim’s security team keeps there’s no room for fuckups or hesitations.” Another swipe reveals the layout of the riverside property. “Our breech points are gonna be here.” He points to the area on the far left. “Here.” His digit moves to the opposite side. “And here.” It lands on the spot near the river opening. “One guard is stationed in each section, and they sound off every seven minutes that their area is clear. Then at the top of the hour – every hour – someone new comes out to take over their position. This is the optimal time to strike because we’re effectively killing two birds in the same minute, preventing them from calling into security for additional reinforcements for at least seven minutes. The one area we’re not breeching will be the first to sound off, so we have to get inside and take out head of security before he has a chance to alert Guggenheim that there’s been a breach. If we don’t? If Guggenheim gets a chance to get to his saferoom and push his panic button, everything is over.”
“Because it’s impossible to break into his saferoom?” Reynolds instantly inquires.