Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 100063 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 500(@200wpm)___ 400(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100063 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 500(@200wpm)___ 400(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
“What’s up?” The hesitation on the other end started to worry him. “Zy?”
“Oh, fuck it. You free tonight?”
“What do you need?”
“I want to talk.” He sighed. “About Trees.”
Yeah, Zy probably wasn’t happy that he’d accused his BFF of being a backstabber. “What’s there to say?”
“I want to go over the evidence.”
“All right. When and where?”
Zy rattled off the name of a sports bar downtown. “Can you meet me about nine?”
Not exactly the way One-Mile wanted to spend a Friday night, but… “I’ll be there.”
“Thanks.”
Then the line went dead. One-Mile looked at the clock. He had two hours to kill. After grabbing a crusty sandwich at the deli near his house, he headed for his destination. The bosses had known about Cutter and Brea’s engagement before he had. It stood to reason they knew more than they were letting on. But Joaquin had never spoken much to him. And currently, Hunter wasn’t speaking to him at all. That left Logan, who wasn’t thrilled with him…but was least likely to slam the door in his face.
When he rang the bell, he heard a commotion inside. A kid was crying. A woman’s high-pitched exasperation cut through it. A man mumbled something as footsteps stomped toward the door.
A smile crept across One-Mile’s face. Sometimes, he had trouble reconciling that fierce, brash Logan was a devoted husband to his high-school sweetheart and father of twin girls. His house must be loud and chaotic and nonstop responsibility.
But it wasn’t Logan who yanked the door open. Instead, Caleb greeted him, one of his granddaughters cradled in a beefy arm.
“Sir. I didn’t expect to see you here.”
“Hi, Walker. You’re actually coming at a good time. Here.” He thrust the child into his arms. “See if you can get Macy in her high chair. I’ve got to round up Mandy.”
Before he could object, the colonel turned away to chase another little one shrieking across the living room.
One-Mile peered down at the cherubic face of the girl in his arms. Her wide blue eyes, just like her father’s, looked as startled as he felt. The swish of dark curls, her tiny button nose, and baby-powder scent made her seem so innocent. But the pout on her little mouth said trouble was brewing.
Sure enough, she belted out an ear-splitting wail and tried to lurch out of his arms.
He held her firmly and raced her to the kitchen. “Look, cutie, we’re stuck with each other for a few minutes. Why don’t you sit down and chill?”
But when he tried to maneuver her into her high chair, the little hellion bowed her back, kicked her legs, and howled like she was on fire.
One-Mile shook his head. “I see you have your daddy’s temper.”
Caleb entered with a laugh, holding another screaming bundle. “You have no idea. And she’s the easy one. Mandy here is the real troublemaker. Aren’t you, baby girl?”
She paused to grin at her grandfather and flash a pair of dimples, as if she liked the idea of being a rabble-rouser from hell. Macy watched. And when Caleb cooed at her, she mimicked her sister’s angelic expression. Well, if he didn’t count her crazy eyes.
Logan was going to hate his life in about fifteen years. One-Mile almost felt sorry for the bastard.
The colonel took advantage of that moment to put Mandy in her high chair and shove a cracker in her hand. One-Mile managed to do the same with Macy as the other man slammed a sippy cup full of water on each tray.
Finally, other than the sounds of babies munching and slurping, silence reigned.
Caleb sagged against the nearby kitchen counter. “Tonight reminds me why having babies is a young man’s game.”
One-Mile couldn’t hold in a laugh. “You a little ragged, Grandpa?”
The colonel leveled him a quelling glare. “Well, this old man has two words for you. They start with an F and a you.”
That only made him laugh harder. “You babysitting tonight so Logan and Tara could go out?”
That would suck…but that’s the way his luck was running these days.
“No. If I’d willingly signed up for that insanity, I would have come prepared. This was a last-minute emergency.” Caleb grabbed a couple of jars of baby food from the cabinet and a pair of tiny spoons from a drawer before swiping two bibs off the counter. “Logan thought it would be a great idea to test out the Razor scooter he bought—strictly for Tyler Murphy’s boys, of course.” His accompanying eye roll called bullshit on Logan’s claim. “Did I mention there are three of them, all under the age of five?”
That made One-Mile grin. “So you’re saying they didn’t need one, and Logan took it out for a spin himself?”
“Yep.” Caleb opened a jar of sweet potatoes and shoved it in his hand, along with a little spoon. “So about ten minutes later, Tara had to take him to the ER. He’s got a broken finger, a sprained knee, and he’s waiting for stitches.” The older man bent to Mandy. “Sometimes I wonder about your daddy, princess. I think war scrambled his brains.”