Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 80660 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80660 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
She smiled. “You’ve gotten so polite in your old age. I’ll be right back, weirdo.”
He glanced over, and it looked like the girls had started a movie.
A couple of hours to go and then he’d be back at home and he could sleep. He was going to have jet lag from hell since he’d been in the air for two days, but he wasn’t going to be able to sleep until they were home and they’d made it through the hard part.
Except when they got home the hard part started.
He’d taken a couple of weeks off when Travis had been born. He was going to have to take more because his family needed him.
Alex and Liam could handle the office, but damn he felt like he was letting them down.
But sometimes a man had to choose his family over everything else. Everything.
He would focus on monitoring the situation with Ezra and Solo. It seemed like his ploy with Drake had worked, and they were heading back to England to continue the search. That was it. He could do a lot of that work from home, and in a few weeks it would all be settled. He was pretty damn sure Ezra and Solo were working their problems out because that tiny room they’d been in had smelled like sex, so they would probably both need jobs and he would be left with another freaking couple who would whine about assignments. No, Ian. We can’t be split up for six weeks, and what do you mean one of us is going to have to flirt to get information?
He needed more single dudes. They never minded flirting for info. Of course, it almost never worked. It always worked for the women he hired because dudes were dumb.
God, what he could have done with twenty Kayla Summers. Naturally she’d married her client, and now he was left with Erin, who would rather shove her fist up a dude’s ass than talk to him.
Also, his brother got cranky when he suggested sending her in as a diversion.
Yeah, he would come up with a staffing plan while he was on…a little bile rose in his throat…paternity leave.
“Mr. Taggart.” A quiet voice pulled him out of his thoughts.
He looked to his left, and Tasha was standing there. She’d slipped out of her seat while Kenzie and Kala were staring at a screen.
He tried to give her his best “I wasn’t just thinking about brutally murdering someone” face. “Hey. How was your lunch? Do you need something else?”
He asked the question in his best Russian, which was going to get so much better because he wasn’t going to be lazy about it anymore. He would join in on the plan he and Charlie had put in place. Charlie thought it would be good to split the day up. In the morning they spoke Russian and nothing else to the kids. At night they switched to English, and they helped Tasha learn to speak it.
She sat down in the seat Chelsea had occupied, her little face completely serious. “I would like to talk to you about helping with the boys. Your daughters spoke of younger children.”
Her Russian was very formal. He hoped his was a bit more relaxed. And right. “Yes, we have two boys. Seth is three, and Travis is almost three months old.”
She nodded as though processing that information. “I help with the babies in the orphanage. I am good with them. I do not mind changing diapers, and I can feed them as well so you and your wife shall have more time to yourself.”
He was missing something here. “Natasha, you don’t have to help with the babies. You can play with them, of course, but there’s no pressure on you. My wife and I can handle them.”
Her jaw tightened, and she seemed to think about that. “Then I shall clean. I am good with this, too.”
“When you get settled in we can talk about chores,” he replied. “Kala and Kenzie have some. They set the table for dinner and they clear it. They feed the dog. You’ll like him. He’s big but he’s very gentle. The only thing you have to worry about with Bud are his farts.”
He said the words, hoping to get a smile out of her, but now she seemed almost on the verge of tears.
“I can do good work.”
“I’m sure you can, but we’re going to relax and let you settle in.”
“I do not want to do…certain things, Mr. Taggart.”
A chill crept across his skin because he didn’t like the way that sounded. “What did they say you would have to do?”
“The other children…they say there is only one reason an American would take me in. I am old, and no one my age leaves except for bad reasons.” She met his eyes, strength there, and wariness. “I do not wish to do these things. But I am good at cleaning.”