Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 87284 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 436(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87284 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 436(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
“Ty! Ty!” That was Jet. He flew down the stairs as I changed shoes in the hallway, and he settled on the banister. “Men suck!”
“Oh, piss off,” Ty snapped.
“Piss off!” Jet mimicked. “Rina!”
“Rina’s in Mexico, studying turtles,” Ty told him. “You’ll see her in a few weeks.”
“Piss off!” Jet repeated.
“Love you too, buddy.” Ty sighed and walked out the door. “No, you stay here, Terra.”
“Love you!” Jet cawed.
That made me laugh. I’d read a bit about parrots but nowhere near enough. I only knew that some retained their vocabularies and kept them fairly small; others learned countless words but forgot them as their owners stopped using them. Some parrots had clear speech, others not so much. But Jet definitely sounded like he could actually talk.
After giving Terra a quick pat on the head, I hurried after her daddy and closed the door behind me. Given that Ty was evidently ready to roll at all hours of the day, I decided to follow his lead. I’d risk my nicer shorts tonight, and tomorrow, I’d be back in cargo shorts.
I wanted him to be impressed. Claiming otherwise would be a lie.
“Do we know anything about this one?” I asked, getting in next to him on the golf cart.
“Not really,” he replied and backed out. “You’re about to meet Willie Locke. He grew up near Homestead and ran a farm there for fifty years. So he was around and active when Homestead got their own population of invasive tegus. They absolutely wrecked his business—and it’s left him with some nightmares.”
Damn, that sucked. The black-and-white Argentine tegu was a menace. A freaking stunning, intelligent, strong menace that stopped at nothing to feed on eggs.
Ironically, they often made a great pet because they could be quite docile. But the feral ones…? Jeesh. Not to mention, the pet owners who did a bad job—they were the reason we were in this mess.
“I fucking hate the pet trade sometimes.” I shook my head.
“You and me both, kid.” Ty turned on the main road. “But it’s not all on them. Stricter laws have drawn out the shady owners who don’t give a fuck.”
That was true. There were consequences to the best intentions as well.
“Anyway.” He moved on. “Willie calls a few times a year. Always says it’s a tegu. It never is.”
“Are they local to this area?” I asked.
Ty shook his head. “I think we’ve had two sightings the past couple years. One of them was a direct release from a pet owner.” He paused as he slowed down at a light, and there was nobody around. The island was very quiet. The light changed back to green right away, too. “Besides, the tegus are hibernating this time of year.”
Of course, I should’ve thought of that.
“Can you check the side pocket of my duffel to see if my utility gloves are there?” he asked.
“Yeah, sure.” I twisted my body and reached for the duffel on the bench seat in the back. “You didn’t use them today, did you?”
“I rarely do with snakes,” he answered. “But it’s dark, and if Willie thinks he’s seen a tegu, it’s a larger lizard. He lives on the water too, and it’s real close to the neighboring island. His property is the first you see if you swim across, which a lot of reptiles do. Hell, it’s so shallow I think you can wade across it.”
“Well, you have three pairs of gloves here, so we’re set,” I said.
“Perfect.”
We left the paved road behind a moment later, and the gravel crunched under the tires as we passed a “Private Property” sign. It had a rifle on it too. Lovely.
I inhaled deeply and looked at all the mangrove trees around us. The island was suddenly a ghostly place, yet so alive. The golf cart was almost completely silent too, so it was easy to hear the rustling and squeaking and occasional chirping. I heard frogs. Moths and insects flew by the headlights. The air smelled like ocean and damp soil.
I freaking loved it. A rush of happiness flooded me.
“Did you mean what you said to your boyfriend?” Ty asked. “That this is a dream come true?”
I batted away a critter from my face. “Yes, Sir—Jesus fuck. Yes, Ty. Sorry, it happens automatically when I’m around kinksters.”
He chuckled. “It’s fine.”
I blew out a breath, a bit frustrated. The man screamed of dominance and control, and he didn’t wanna be called Sir. Such a waste.
Reese had smiled widely and ruffled my hair earlier when I’d called him Sir, as I’d done from the moment we’d been introduced. And he’d said, “I like polite little pets.”
I’d grinned like a dork.
“What about you? Are you living your dream?” I could sense Ty had follow-up questions about my own dream statement, but I’d already given away so much. It was his turn. I was itching for the full picture that was Ty Madison.