Total pages in book: 165
Estimated words: 154925 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 775(@200wpm)___ 620(@250wpm)___ 516(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 154925 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 775(@200wpm)___ 620(@250wpm)___ 516(@300wpm)
The words had been said with a slightly husky feminine tone, and when he turned, sure enough there was a woman. A young woman who looked like she’d walked off the pages of a goth comic book. She was petite, a good foot shorter than him, with two purple pig tails, and she liked black. She had on a black miniskirt with sparkly suspenders over a black button-up. Dark green leggings and combat boots completed the look.
She was absolutely nothing like the two types of women he’d been surrounded by the last decade of his life. Military women who kept things neat and clean and practical, or the sophisticated crowd he’d run in when he’d been a spy. Women who were polished and thought out every single word they said and action made.
The first he would have nodded and made some simple conversation with. The second he would spend some time figuring out to ensure they weren’t here to spy on him.
He had absolutely no idea what to do with the woman in front of him. “Uh, I don’t think he’s going to kill me.”
She was weirdly fascinating. And just plain weird. She had a messenger bag over her shoulder, and the wide strap was decorated with a bunch of buttons, one which proclaimed her the Mistress of Code. She seemed to like code and the color green since she had a big button with the words I Always Play Green and some weird figure on it. “Confident. I like it. Are you a client or a new hire?” She gasped as she seemed to think of something. “Or a new vendor? Because if you are trying to sell the big guy anything that’s not a lemon tart, he might kill you. We should rethink this.”
It was her smile that did it. A small uptick of lips that let him know she was fucking with him and probably fucked with every guy in her life. Not in a “I’m looking to screw you over, take your secrets, and then probably murder you on the way out the door” way he’d gotten used to.
In the “I don’t take life too seriously” way. Like the women he’d been friends with in college. The ones he’d been comfortable with in another lifetime. In the life he’d had before he’d so brutally destroyed everything around him.
He should walk away from this woman. He was toxic, and his world for so long had been blood and secrets and death. She wouldn’t even know how to walk in his world. She also wasn’t his type. The last thing he needed was even a casual flirtation.
“I’m the new guy.” He held out a hand. “Name’s Kyle Hawthorne. I’m starting in the bodyguard unit today.”
She was completely harmless. It wouldn’t hurt to talk to the cute goth chick while he was here. He wouldn’t be here forever. He was giving this two months tops. That should be enough time to satisfy his family and the higher-ups at the CIA that he wasn’t going to do something dangerous. And then he would go do something dangerous.
She reached out, that smile turning into something truly glorious. Her black-tinged lips spread and showed even white teeth, but it was the way that smile lit up her eyes that made him pause. “MaeBe.”
Oh, she was playing with fire because for the first time in months he felt his groin tighten as he took her hand in his and felt an actual fucking spark that probably wasn’t static electricity. He couldn’t help the way his own lips curled up, and the words that flowed out of his mouth could have come from his twenty-year-old self. “Maybe? I would say that’s a little presumptuous of you, but I think I’ll go with it.”
Who the fuck was he? He didn’t flirt with cuties. Not when information wasn’t on the line.
He didn’t want information from her. Not anything beyond why she only played green and what she was doing standing in front of an office filled with hardened ex-soldiers.
Her eyes rolled but it was softened with a laugh as she released his hand and stepped back. “It’s my name, Kyle. Not a prediction of the future. I’m Mae Beatrice Vaughn, hence the MaeBe nickname. My mom came up with it, and it stuck with me. I’m in cybersecurity.”
“Really? You work here?”
She pulled a key card out of her bag and held it up. “I do. I know it’s hard to think about. I should probably be getting ready to DJ a bar mitzvah or something. Or perhaps working in the dark corners of the web catfishing people for cash, but no. I’m here with the good guys. And don’t go with it, buddy. I only date weirdoes, and you, sir, are the boss’s nephew.” She looked at him critically. “You don’t look like the big guy.”