Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 130414 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 652(@200wpm)___ 522(@250wpm)___ 435(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 130414 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 652(@200wpm)___ 522(@250wpm)___ 435(@300wpm)
We stopped before a row of men, adorned in a uniform of black fatigues, protective glasses, and helmets. All four blinked back at me like I’d just paid them a visit straight from space. Maybe I did go a little overboard with the outfit. Still, Romeo’s outburst was completely uncalled for.
Senior gestured to the man closest to the Humvee. “This is Matthew Krasinski, one of our top engineers. Matt, this is my daughter-in-law, Dallas.”
Matt reached for my hand. “Pleasure.”
I shook it, eyes darting everywhere in search of Romeo again. I couldn’t find him anywhere. Panic overtook me. Was this the straw that broke the camel’s back? After all we’d been through? A stupid La Perla mini-dress was going to send us to the lawyer’s office to sign divorce papers?
Then it hit me. The thing I’d known in the back of my head for weeks now but refused to articulate in my mind—I didn’t want a divorce. I wanted the opposite of divorce. And the old tricks in my hat—of pressing his buttons with my messy, lazy, unapologetically shocking behavior—didn’t work. I wasn’t drawing him closer. I was pushing him away.
Matt motioned to the monstrous tank. “Are you ready to see this baby in action?”
Not even a little.
“Sure.”
But the Humvee didn’t move. Neither did the men around it.
Finally, Senior shook his head, chuckling. “Okay, I see everyone’s a little distracted. Let’s give them some space, Dallas, shall we?” He set his hand on my back, leading me toward the helicopter while Bruce trailed us.
I swept my eyes across the tarmac. “Where did Romeo go?”
Bruce settled on my other side. “Probably to sulk. Junior does that often. He can’t stand when people are nice to his father. Such an unbecoming trait in someone expected to inherit a leadership position.”
Senior nodded his agreement. “He’s not making you miserable, is he?”
“No, not at all,” I shot out. An odd sense of ownership seized my throat. Only I could take jabs at Romeo.
“You can always come to me for anything. I should’ve mentioned it earlier. I’m here if you need me.”
“Er … thanks.”
I continued searching, mildly aware something was amiss—and not just my husband. Senior’s hand slipped, hitting the curve of my butt. I startled, shoulders sagging when he hiked his hand up my back again.
Red-hot mortification dusted his cheeks. “My apologies. My hands aren’t what they used to be, unfortunately. Not as steady.”
I gave him the benefit of the doubt, because the alternative struck me as too outlandish.
Bruce rushed to Senior’s side, offering an arm. “Where is Junior when his father needs him? He really is unreliable.”
As soon as the drill began, I understood why Romeo didn’t want me here. The experiment consisted of the Humvee, driven by a trained professional, sailing across the tarmac as everything from nature to man-made catastrophes attempted to wipe its existence off Earth. The vehicle galloped into an array of dangerous obstacles: mud, ice, water, and fallen trees. Meanwhile, dozens of armed men shot bullets into the rear. Just when the noise died down, an explosion quaked beneath my heels. I wobbled, one teeter away from face-planting on the harsh cement. Senior seemed worse off, barely able to maintain balance, which he already struggled to do on a regular basis. Bruce flew to the rescue, offering his forearm again.
The tank lulled to a stop, engine cutting. A man holding an orange light stick directed the vehicle to move past us for the second obstacle course. My mini dress rode up, exposing the edge of my butt. I forced myself to watch, quivering in my stupid outfit, cursing myself for ignoring Romeo’s weather forecast.
Senior brushed Bruce aside, retrieved his phone, and aimed it at a rocket launcher, recording the display. “This is my favorite part. You’ll see how the vehicle gets out of all of it unscathed.”
But apparently, this almighty Humvee could not withstand a simple ten-foot drive, because as soon as it roared to life again, it drove directly into a ditch.
“What in the absolute cluster?!” Senior staggered toward the tank, which protruded perpendicular to the road, stuck hood-down in a six-foot-deep trench. “What happened?”
The driver crawled out, ripping his helmet off.
Matt sprinted over to help him, sparing me a glare. “Your daughter-in-law happened, sir. Steven couldn’t stop staring at her and got distracted.”
Steven lurched to his feet, a rooster-red blush pecking his cheeks. “I’m so sorry, sir. This isn’t … I mean … look, sir, you could see her entire, hmm, you know, in that outfit.”
“Check yourself, boy.” Senior swayed with the force of his shout. “You shouldn’t be commenting about my daughter-in-law’s outfit, let alone what’s beneath it. Where’s my son?” He scanned the growing crowd while Matt yanked Steven away.
“Should be here any minute.” Cara materialized, tucked into a sensible coat. Such a lovely, fully functional coat, too. My teeth chattered, fingers invading frostbite territory. “He went to grab something from the helicopter.”