Total pages in book: 144
Estimated words: 135382 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 677(@200wpm)___ 542(@250wpm)___ 451(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 135382 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 677(@200wpm)___ 542(@250wpm)___ 451(@300wpm)
“He’s coming here.” The fucker was coming for Steph. There was no other explanation. The question was why was he coming to see Steph and who else was he working for?
“He landed forty minutes ago,” Wade replied.
Brody needed to get to the airport. How far could he have gotten? He needed to drop Nate off somewhere safe. “I have to get to the office.”
“Why? Remy’s bringing him here. I thought you would want to talk to the guy so I sent Remy out to nab him the moment he gets off the plane. He texted me two minutes ago and he should be pulling in now. You want me to tell him to turn around and head back to downtown?”
There was a brief knock and then the door opened.
“Hey, mate, no need to push. I’m perfectly capable of walking and…” Alfi walked in, Remy’s big body pushing him along. He stopped when he caught sight of Brody and his expression changed. “Brody! I’m right happy to see you.” He frowned back at the Cajun guard. “Now you’re in for it. That’s Brody Carter and he’s been my best mate since we were kids. He’s not going to let you push me around. Bloody Americans. What the hell has happened to your country? Bastard shows up and doesn’t even offer me a meal. I’m starving. Do you know what airplane food is like? And I had to fly bloody coach. Got wedged in between a grandma who smelled like spearmint and tried to convince me to date her spinster daughter and a man I’m pretty sure was really a shaved bear.”
“Does he ever shut up?” Remy asked, the end of his patience obvious.
Nope. Alfi never shut up. He could talk for hours and hours and he could make himself sound like an expert at almost anything. Mostly because he never let anyone get a word in edgewise. Only one thing ever managed to make the man go quiet.
Brody stepped up and popped his former best friend right in the face.
Nate gurgled and seemed to giggle, obviously enjoying the way he bounced from the activity.
Alfi yelped and covered his nose. “Damn, mate. What was that for?” He frowned and then sighed. “Fine. I probably deserved that. Is that the little nipper?” He was back to grinning. “Aw, you remember me. I’m your Uncle Alfi. Looks like you finally met your dad. Now, is there any food around here? Man needs to keep up his energy.”
Remy shook his head. “Can I gag him?”
Brody sighed. “Won’t work. He’ll find a way to be annoying. Besides, I could use food, too. Come on, then. Let’s sit down and you can explain why you’re such a bloody bastard.”
“Or I could shoot him,” Remy muttered under his breath.
Alfi was on his feet, trying to follow. “No need to get violent. Besides, I got intel. I can be helpful. Hey, tell me there’s decent beer here. The plane was a barbaric place. Did I tell you about the hairless bear I was forced to sit next to? Oh, that man smelled to high heaven, I tell you.”
Alfi followed Wade out and Brody kind of wished he’d let Remy have his way.
Twenty minutes later, Brody leaned over and kissed his son’s sleeping forehead. He’d found the fully functional nursery while Wade had taken Alfi to the small kitchen, which was well stocked since there were two guests somewhere else in the building.
He picked up the mobile part of the baby monitor and made sure it was on. He looked around the room, wondering if he should stay.
He had a job to do. He’d never hesitated to do his job. Not once. He would toss his personal life aside in a heartbeat. He’d broken dates, hung up on his mum (which never ended well), and once left a doctor’s appointment in the middle of an exam because his job had called him. But Nate wasn’t his personal life. Nate was his son. Nate was more important than any bloody job. Nate was his job now, the only one that mattered beyond taking care of Steph.
“It’s perfectly safe,” a soft voice said.
He looked over and a lovely woman with pitch-black hair was standing in the doorway. She was dressed in cotton pants and a long tunic that looked comfortable and oddly exotic. There was only person she could be. “Your Majesty.”
The queen of Loa Mali stepped into the room, a book in her hand. “Please, call me Day. I’m not used to the royal thing. You must be Mr. Carter. I was informed you might be in and out of the club. And this young man?”
“My son, Nathan. Nate. I’m worried about leaving him alone. His mum might get upset.”
The queen smiled, a peaceful expression. “Well, the good news for you is I happen to have a bit of time. I’ll stay and sit with him.”