Total pages in book: 24
Estimated words: 22821 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 114(@200wpm)___ 91(@250wpm)___ 76(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 22821 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 114(@200wpm)___ 91(@250wpm)___ 76(@300wpm)
'Nuff said.
Greg and Corey are already waiting for us when we step out of the shop, and the way they're grinning tells me they definitely knew about what went went down earlier—-or rather who went down on whom.
Huh.
How is it possible that it was only an hour or so ago when these two were practically shaking in fear in my presence...and yet here they are now, ribbing Rake and me about not being able to keep our hands off each other like teenagers.
I'm really starting to think something's seriously wrong with all of their heads, and maybe that's why the three of them are friends?
It's just a short walk from the shop to the port, and Rake's friends use the time to humor me with stories about their newly engaged friend. "Major" isn't actually a major at all as it turns out, but a nickname he earned on his first day on the job.
'Hi, I'm Royce, Jr. I majored in engineering and advertising.'
Corey's attempt to mimic how Major introduced himself to other newly recruited agents is hilarious, and it's when I feel my lips start to twitch that I realize this was Rake's plan all along.
Grrrr.
He made me think us attending this party is just a whim of his, but now I know it's simply his way of making sure his friends and I have enough time to realize we can actually get along. It's yet another sweet but misguided gesture—-
"Can I be the one to tell Major that Drake's fallen in love? Dude is going to be so psyched—-"
Greg freezes up like he's just yelled out God's name in a party full of Satanists, and it's only when I make a dismissive gesture with my hand that Rake's friend relaxes with a sheepish grin.
Amazing.
Does he really believe I'd automatically feel offended every time someone says a word with 'psych' in it in my hearing?
How this guy ended up working for the FBI, I honestly have no idea, but whatever the reason is, I'm betting it's also why being with Greg and Corey makes me feel normal...albeit in a mostly exasperated kind of way.
We spy a long queue of guests waiting to board the yacht when we reach the port, and it's while waiting for our turn that Rake suddenly cups hold of my cheeks.
Grr.
I try slapping his hands away, but he refuses to let go.
"Why do you keep trying to piss me off like this?" I snarl under my breath.
"Mostly because you're cute when you're angry," he answers promptly, "but this time, it's also to make sure I have all of your attention."
"For what?"
"To warn you about other idiots I used to work with—-"
"And who I'm most likely to meet tonight?"
"Unfortunately."
"Are there really that many idiots working in the FBI?"
"Definitely more than there should be," Rake admits with a grimace, "and some of them might tell you things that could make you think twice about marrying me."
"You haven't actually asked me to marry you—-"
"And risk having you say no?" Rake looks at me like I'm more psychotic than psychopathic. "I know I said there are idiots working in the FBI, but I didn't say I was one of them."
No, no, no.
I must be strong. I must not waver. I must remember that my smiles absolutely can't...come...cheap!
Hearing my phone ring is the distraction I need, but the news I get from my men isn't anything good.
Shit.
"What's wrong?" Rake has no trouble sensing the change in my mood as I drop my phone back in my pocket.
"It's Yiorgos. He hasn't been answering my calls since this morning, and my men are still out looking for him."
"Let me see what I can do."
Rake is already walking away before I can decide whether to stop or thank him. I've never been the type to ask for help or accept it, but it feels weirdly good that Rake's willing to step in even for my pro bono cases.
Greg and Corey immediately start talking as soon as Rake leaves, and I call them out on it as soon as they pause for breath. "Are you guys worried I might start killing people for fun if you don't keep me entertained?"
"Nah, of course not."
"Aww c'mon, we know you better than that now."
I'm about to tell them they're the worst liars on the planet when a woman walking past us catches my eye. She's matched her denim bikini top with a pair of silk pants, and tattooed on the underside of her right breast is a familiar-looking vagina flower.
"Do you guys know who she is?" I ask Rake's friends.
"Suzanne Packer," Greg supplies with a grimace when he sees who I'm looking at. "She's friends with Nicole, Major's fiancée. Only daughter of John Packer, whose yacht we're about to board."
"How did she and Nicole meet?"
"Art school. Nicole loves to collect works of 21st century Impressionists while Suzanne's into the more modern stuff."