Rough Night
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Charlotte Taggart stared at her husband and then back at the man he’d brought in to handle the night’s responsibilities.
Michael Malone looked scared. Michael Malone was a former Navy SEAL/CIA team member who had worked many dangerous missions with a sure and steady hand. He’d grown up on a cattle ranch and spent much of his time on oil rigs. This was not a man who typically looked like he was going to faint.
“I don’t know, Malone,” her husband said in that tone he tended to reserve for the dumbasses in his life. Unfortunately, according to Ian Taggart, there were a lot of dumbasses in his life. “You think this is a good idea?”
Malone’s jaw squared. “I think I need to stop betting against Hutch.”
Yep, sometimes her husband was right about being surrounded by dumbasses. Although she’d discovered that even the most intelligent of men could be turned into a dumbass when they gathered in large groups and someone—usually Ian—came up with a fun game. His fun games in the past had included using an ATV to jump over the creek at the back of their property, sending exploding glitter dicks to his rivals, and his favorite, pitting his men against each other in the stupidest of contests. She was worried what they’d come up with now. “What did you make Hutch do?”
Ian shrugged one big shoulder. “It was just a little bet. Hutch and another guy were talking some smack about who could eat more tacos. It was taco Tuesday, so I only spent like fifty bucks on a hundred tacos, and I won us this sweet, sweet babysitting gig.”
She should have wondered why there had been cheering and groans of defeat coming from the break room a few days before. She’d been told by Phoebe that if she wanted to keep her belief that their crew had any sense whatsoever, she would avoid that room. Charlie had taken her up on that. Now she knew why Hutch had been downing antacids for days. “Who was he up against?”
Malone’s eyes went wide. “Boomer.”
Shit. She shouldn’t have missed that. Boomer was really just a walking gut who was also one of the world’s best snipers. She’d seen Boomer eat quantities of food that would have killed most human beings. “How the hell did Hutch beat Boomer?”
Malone sighed. “I didn’t know Boomer had already been to an all-you- can-eat breakfast buffet. But I suspect your husband did.”
Ian managed to look as innocent as a rat-fink gorgeous bastard could. “The dude asked for pancakes. What was I supposed to do? And don’t play that game with me, Malone. I know you and Case spiked Hutch’s coffee with bulk fiber, you assholes.”
And that explained why poor Hutch had been in the bathroom for days.
“So Ian bet a night of babysitting and Michael bet what? Also, what did Hutch and Boomer stand to get from this besides heart disease?”
Michael put up a hand. “First off, all Big Tag said was I would owe him one. And all I wanted from him if I won was his Sunday Cowboys tickets.”
“I figured if I lost, I would give my seat to Malone and you could have Sunday to go and have a spa day or something,” Ian said. “It was kind of a win/win for me. I either got to spend time with you tonight or I got to make sure you had a day off on Sunday.”
That man. He was sneaky and manipulative and no one should bet against him. She turned back to Malone, pointing his way. “He wins. He always wins, Mike. And everyone knows what owing him one means.”
Malone managed to pale as he looked back at the two girls playing quietly in the living room. “I kind of hoped it would be something like embedding myself in a crazy scientist’s clutches for months or joining a drug cartel so we could gather intel. You know, something like that. I could do that.”
Coward. Her sweet baby girls weren’t…no. She couldn’t even pretend in her brain. Those girls were trouble with a capital T, but it was only an hour and a half away from bedtime.
And it would be fun to go out for a little while. It would be nice to play. Ian had announced that he was taking her out after they’d finished a lovely dinner of honey soy pot roast that likely would have lasted for days with a normal family, but her husband knew a thing or two about putting food away, too. Eric Vail was having a play party and they were attending. Between work and kids and all their various projects, they hadn’t had a lot of time to play lately. It had been weeks since they’d even been to Sanctum.
A big hand cupped her shoulder. “Come on, Charlie baby. It’s one night out and he was a Navy SEAL. He can handle a sleeping infant, two tiny girls, and the mutt from hell.”
There was a chime from her phone that let her know someone was on the property. A minute later, Ian was ushering in Boomer. Where Kenzie and Kala had mostly ignored Malone, they lit up when Boomer walked in.
The big guy’s face brightened and he suddenly had his burly arms filled with tiny girls. “Hey, boss. Mike said since I failed the taco test, I have to come and help him. Are we babysitting? I thought it would be something bad. Are we going to watch Moana? I love that movie. Especially the chicken. The chicken is hilarious. Hey, do you think we could order some chicken, Mike? I’m a little hungry.”
Ian shook his head Michael’s way. “Touché, Mike. Well played. He’ll eat us out of house and home, but I’m not backing down because Macon is at the play party and he’s made lemon tarts. And Charlie can buy some more groceries. She does it all the time.”
Charlie sighed. Boys. All of them.
Boomer dropped to the ground and let the girls climb all over him like a jungle gym while Ian explained to Malone what would happen if his precious babies didn’t survive the night.
Honestly, she was a little more worried about the men surviving…
An hour and a half later and Charlie was definitely seeing the plus side to her husband’s plotting. Sometimes his manipulative side produced awesome results. Though she was a little worried about the chair.
“Are you sure this thing is sturdy? I don’t want to break Eric’s chair.”
She sat in Ian’s lap in Eric Vail’s beautifully decorated kitchen, waiting for the fun to start. Relaxed. How long had it been since she’d felt so relaxed? Since she’d been able to simply hang with her hubby and not worry about anything more than how long dessert was taking.
They were watching Macon Miles as he put the finishing touches on the dozen or so small lemon tarts he’d made especially for Ian. She always found it fascinating to watch the massive ex-soldier use his huge hands to create delicate treats.
“The chair is fine. Perfectly sturdy enough to hold us both. Come on, baby. Relax. Tell me this isn’t fun,” Ian growled against her cheek.
“You know I can’t.” Sitting in her husband’s lap, one hand on his chest, was kind of the bomb. She was wearing her favorite corset and a tiny little thong that didn’t cover anything at all. She liked it though. After her Master tortured her for a while, he would slide that ridiculous thong off and fuck her silly.
She needed that so very badly.
It was like Ian knew what she needed and had found a ridiculously manipulative way to give it to her. And yeah, that did something for her, too. Her Master was a ruthless bastard who would plot and plan and find a way to have her no matter what it took.
Her cell phone buzzed.
She glanced down. It was a text from Malone.
Okay to make the girls some S’mores? We’re having a pretend campout in the living room.
So maybe the billionaire oilman’s son wasn’t so bad at entertaining the kiddos. She texted a smiley face and a thumbs up and looked back at her Master. Here, that’s what he was—the dominant manly Master and she the sweetly bratty sub.
It felt so good to be his submissive for a bit.
A single brow arched over Ian’s icy blue eyes. They could go super cold when he wanted them to, and like blue flames when he was hot with desire. “You brought your cell phone?”
She wasn’t making any apologies for that, though she had hidden it in the left side of her corset. It fit in right under her arm. She and some of the other moms/subs had sewn in a little patch of matching material to hold their phones in. A little like a holster, but for information and communication, not a gun. Ian could carry the guns. She’d had enough of that for a lifetime. Besides, she knew that sometimes information was way more dangerous than bullets. “Normally I wouldn’t, Master, but we’re not at Sanctum and our babies aren’t with their usual sitter. I trust Malone and Boomer, but the girls…not so much. If they can cause chaos, they will, and they’ll giggle the whole time.”
She slipped the phone back into her corset.
“Well, I tried Serena but apparently she’s busy having a mental breakdown and went to nekkidville, which is somewhere in Southern Colorado. At least that’s what Jake said when I called earlier. He and Adam are taking a late flight so they can meet her there. I had to think fast so we didn’t get stuck with two more kids and no more sex. They managed to get Jesse and Phoebe to take them, but that meant they couldn’t take on ours, too.”
Charlie gasped a little. She’d looked at the calendar earlier in the week and sent them a nice card. She tried to keep all the important dates on her calendar. “But Ian, it’s their anniversary today.”
“I think they forgot, and it is so not my place to remind them. Look at it this way, now they have two more little ones to celebrate with,” he said with the smooth smile of a predator who knew he’d gotten away with something. “It wasn’t like they were going to do anything special. They would probably watch Harry Potter or something. They can totally do that with the kids.”
“That was mean, Ian.”
“Well, I didn’t remember it was their anniversary,” he admitted. “If they forget, how am I supposed to remember? Damn, you smell good.”
“I’m pretty sure I still smell like pot roast.” She should have insisted on a shower, but the minute she’d acquiesced, he’d bundled her into his truck and started for Fort Worth. She’d found out how carefully he’d planned everything because his kit had already been in the cab along with the bag she usually carried with her to Sanctum.
He ran his nose over her neck, breathing her in. “Yeah, you do smell good enough to eat. I’m going to eat you up later on. I’m going to get you tied down and once everyone is watching because my sub is so beautiful, that’s when I’ll show them how good you are at taking a cock.”
She shivered at the thought because he would take his time and do it all right. He would spank her and warm her up and play with all her parts until she couldn’t handle it a second longer.
Charlie couldn’t wait.
But she would have to because Macon was holding out the one thing in the world Ian would want to devour even faster than her pussy.
Ian had been on a low carb diet for weeks. His blood work had come back and she’d made him eat better to bring down his cholesterol. Healthy diets made her Master crabby. They had agreed he could break his sugar fast and have a little dessert at the play party.
“Here you go, Big Tag.” Macon handed the plate to Charlie and tipped his head. “I’m going to find my wife and tie her up for a while. You two have a blast.”
“Thanks, Macon,” she said, balancing the tray against her thigh. “You’re a lifesaver.”
Ian was already staring at the small tarts. “You’re the best, Pie Maker. I love you.”
She wasn’t sure if the last words had been said to Macon or the pies themselves. He’d kind of whispered the words, so she rather thought he was talking to those tarts. She picked one up. Two could play at this game. He would take very good care of her later on. She could make him happy now.
The door to the kitchen came open, but that didn’t bother Charlie at all. She was completely looking forward to some crazy exhibitionist sex.
She hadn’t known she was an exhibitionist until Ian Taggart had shown her. She could still remember him walking into The Velvet Collar. He’d been the target that night, a young, arrogant CIA operative she needed to distract in order to save her sister.
“God, Ian, you still look the same to me all these years later.” The words seemed to slip out of her mouth.
His lips curled up. So often he smirked and she found it sexy, but when that man truly smiled he could light up the world. “That’s because I put shit in your coffee to make your sight bad.”
She rolled her eyes.
His arms tightened and he got serious. “You’re still the same glorious woman, Charlie. I walked into that dungeon and my world flipped. I took one look at you and knew I’d do anything to get a collar around your neck. You took my breath away. You still do. You will until the day I die and that day, I’ll still see you standing there in the dungeon waiting for me.”
Her eyes clouded. She had been waiting for him. “I didn’t realize what I was waiting for until the first time I saw you. I knew. I knew I wouldn’t ever want another man. Come here, baby. You didn’t get dessert.”
She kind of realized they weren’t alone, but again, it didn’t matter. When she was with Ian, soft and submissive in his lap, it was easy to shut the world out.
It was Javier and the new girl. Juliana, she thought, but she went by Julie or Jules. They were standing in the middle of the kitchen, staring at the stove. It was a nice stove, but then she wasn’t a crazed foodie chef so maybe she didn’t get the sexy.
To each his own.
Ian’s hands came up, brushing against her cheeks. “No dessert because I knew what was coming. And by coming, I mean you. You’re going to be coming, my love. Over and over and over again. You’re going to come until I can’t stand, until my dick stops working. Take the first bite.”
They were practically having intercourse over a lemon tart and she was fine with that. She brought the tart in her hand to her lips. “It smells so good.”
“Nothing like how you smell, baby. You smell like sex and mine.”
Mine? Oh, yeah, she was his. She didn’t want to be anything in the world but his. She licked the tart, knowing full well that he was watching her every move. Hell, she could feel his dick swell under her butt. He didn’t try to hide it. That was hers, too. He shifted his pelvis as though trying to make himself more comfortable, but she knew he was really rubbing that massive erection against her. In these moments, he was a horny predatory tiger, rubbing himself against her leg to relieve the tension.
Charlie brought the tart to her lips and slowly took a bite, her eyes never leaving her husband’s. They were locked together, bodies touching as she savored the light, tart taste of Macon’s finest work. He was a master at turning lemons into perfectly prepared bites of heaven. Charlie licked her lips and then turned the treat her Master’s way.
“Only you, baby,” Big Tag whispered back.
Charlie loved the look in his eyes as she offered him the tart. She loved watching him enjoy it, knowing all the while that wouldn’t be the last treat he would enjoy that evening. Soon she would be the one he was enjoying, her legs splayed and her body at his mercy.
Right before she was sure he would take the tart, he pulled her down instead. His mouth took hers, tongue dominating in a bold move that took her breath away. She relaxed against him, giving him the power in that instant and letting him know she was his to do with as he wished.
Which only worked because she loved him, trusted him, knew he would never do a thing to hurt her.
Only this man. She’d only ever submitted to one man, and even then it was pretty much only sexual. As he kissed her senseless, she wondered where she would be if she hadn’t met Ian Taggart. It was funny how in her most desperate moment, her salvation had come in the form of a man who should have been her enemy.
“You taste better than any pie, my Charlie,” he whispered against her lips. His hands tightened on her and she felt one of those big palms stroke her thigh. “Why don’t you straddle me and let’s see what happens?”
She knew what would happen. She placed the tray of treats on the table beside them and gingerly shifted, twisting so she straddled her Master’s lap. Yes, there it was. His cock was right against her pussy. All she had to do was…
Ian groaned as she rolled her pelvis. “That’s right, baby. Now give me some of that sweet, sweet lemony goodness. Ride me and feed me. That’s what I want. Let me watch you come.”
“And if I can make you come?” It was a fun little game. She would try to see if she could get that big dick of his to go off before she did.
“Then I’ll walk around for the rest of the night a bit on the uncomfortable side,” he replied, his hands finding her hips. He shifted and she found herself with her clitoris in the perfect position. “But that’s not going to happen. I know exactly how to make you moan, Charlie baby.”
She felt her phone vibrate. Charlie winced. “It’s another text.”
He pumped his hips up against hers. “Answer it. If it’s anyone except Malone telling us one of the children is missing, I’m texting them a dick pic and asking them to leave us alone. Let’s see if you can text while I do this.”
His erection slid over the perfect place and Charlie could feel the orgasm starting to build. How could he still do this to her? All he had to do was start touching her, using that deep Dom voice on her, and her whole body was ready to comply to his any and every whim.
Did she have to answer? It probably wasn’t anything important. Was anything in the world as important as the way this man made her feel?
“Give me a taste of that tart, baby. Or better yet, pull those pretty nipples out and let me taste them. Let me lick and suck and bite on those sweet nipples.”
Her vision was going soft as he hauled her close. And her phone vibrated again.
“Ian,” she started.
“Do what you need to,” he replied as he licked her collarbone. “I’ll do what I have to.”
She was going to kill whoever was texting her. It was probably Malone, trying to figure out where the damn marshmallows were.
She bit back a groan and reached for her phone. It better be so good because she was getting close, and the minute Ian started sucking on her breasts she wouldn’t be able to hold…
Do you have a fire extinguisher?
“What?” Charlie shifted, trying to get a better grip on the phone. And the chair under Ian kind of exploded.
Charlie hit the floor, her knees knocking on the tile. Ian had gone backward but he’d managed to twist his body so he landed on his shoulder instead of knocking the back of his head against the windowsill.
Panic flooded Charlie’s veins. She scrambled to find her phone. “Ian?”
“I’m fine,” he groaned. “Call him. Damn it. Can’t we have one fucking night out without the world coming to an end? Ah, yeah, this is going to hurt.”
Had he thrown out his back again? She couldn’t stop and find out. Sarah Stevens was here somewhere and she was a nurse. Surely she could help.
Charlie grabbed the phone from the midst of the now fallen lemon tarts. The tray had turned over, but there were still several that had landed on the table. She would have to shove those in her purse if they were about to flee home. With shaking fingers she dialed the number for Michael.
“Hey, Charlotte, I think I got the fire out. Boomer stopped, dropped, and rolled on it. That did the trick. The girls thought it was hilarious, but we’ve got another problem now,” Michael was saying.
“There was a fire?” She practically screamed the question.
“Tell Boomer to sit on it,” Ian said from the floor. “Put him on speaker.”
She didn’t need his sarcasm, but he had the right to listen in. She clicked to go to speaker. “Where was the fire, Michael?”
“Well, you see when I told the girls we could have a campout in the living room, I kind of thought we would build a fort made out of sheets, you know what I’m talking about,” Michael continued, his Texas drawl slow and steady. “Damn, Charlotte. I didn’t think the girls would take it so literally.”
Her girls took everything literally. “The girls tried to start a fire? In my living room?”
“It was minor,” Michael promised. “Mostly because they couldn’t take apart the furniture to burn. That was their plan. Apparently Ian taught them how to use whatever’s around to stay warm in case they find themselves out in the woods at night. I saved the sofa, but they did manage to get that wicker basket of yours to burn. Kala said she had to use it because she couldn’t get to the hatchet.”
Charlie turned to her husband. “Why would our daughters know how to use a hatchet?”
He was a nice shade of pale and his shoulder seemed weirdly out of place. “You told me to teach them some life skills.”
She was going to kill everyone. Charlie turned her focus back to the man on the phone. “So the fire is out now?”
“Mostly, but there’s a problem with a crossbow,” Malone admitted. “Basically, Kenzie thought she should provide meat for the fire her sister started. Uhm, long story short, she shot Boomer. It’s okay. He gets shot a lot. He’s used to it, but I need to know if you have some tarp or something because when I pull this arrow out it’s going to get bloody. Should we do it in the garage? And where does Ian keep the first aid kit? Damn it, Kala. Don’t play with the arrow!”
“Don’t you take that arrow out.” She didn’t even know where the hell the arrow had lodged. It could be holding one of his arteries closed and when they pulled it out—bam, dead Boomer on her floor.
“You tell him I will kill him if this incident scars my baby girl for life,” Ian swore from his place on the floor. “Charlie, baby, my shoulder’s out of socket. Could you help me out?”
This was all his fault. He thought it was fun to teach the girls where the freaking crossbow was. And his shoulder came out of socket all the time. It was an old wound. He sometimes jerked it from the socket just to freak people out. Charlie grabbed one of the unspoiled tarts and shoved it in his mouth. “Happy now? I told you that chair wouldn’t hold us both and it’s the babysitter who got shot. Boomer might die on our living room floor.” She was back on the phone. “I’m so sorry. We’re on our way right now. Seriously, don’t take that arrow out.”
She glanced around. They weren’t alone. Javier and Jules had walked back in from the backyard and Macon and Ally ran in from the living room. This was not the exhibitionism she’d wanted tonight.
Ian popped up, his arm hanging limp at his side. It didn’t stop him from grabbing another tart with his good hand. “Macon! Buddy, I’m going to need these to go. Date night’s fucked up again. Javi, some help here?”
Javier shook his head and put out an arm, bracing himself. “Has anyone ever told you you’re completely insane?”
Big Tag grinned and used Javier’s straight arm to shove his shoulder back into socket with an audible crack. “Never heard that one before. Use condoms. Like three of ’em.”
“Call 911,” Charlie said into the phone.
“I think I can get the arrow out, Charlotte,” Malone drawled. “Especially if the girls kind of help me hold him down. Now that I think about it, we could tie him down.”
She heard one of the girls squeal in delight. That was so not happening. “911. Right now.”
“How about I call Theo? He and Erin are both pretty decent medics,” Malone argued. “Have you thought about the CPS visit that will inevitably come after we call the cops?”
Holy shit. She was going to lose her babies. Tears blurred her eyes.
“It doesn’t really hurt,” Boomer shouted over the line. “I’m totally stable and everything. Hey, could you pick up some Taco Bell on your way? I’m kind of hungry.”
“There’s some leftovers in the fridge. Where is he hit?” She was well aware she was walking through a play party. She tried to keep her voice down.
“It was just his leg,” Malone said. “No real problem. Not even much blood yet. It went through the meaty part of his calf. And if you’re talking about that chicken, yeah, he already found that and ate it. He also ate all your breakfast cereal and four ham sandwiches.”
“Damn it,” Ian cursed behind her. “Where the hell does he put it?”
Malone continued. “And do you know why the dog keeps whining? I tried to let him out, but he wouldn’t go.”
Boomer had eaten an entire chicken? And a whole lot of cereal, and then he’d moved on to the deli portion of her kitchen? She might have to let that go. She made it back to the master bedroom and grabbed her purse and her clothes. Those would have to go on in the truck because she didn’t have time. “Bud’s terrified of coyotes. There’s probably one in the back somewhere.”
“I can take care of it, Momma!” a delicate feminine voice yelled.
“Don’t you dare,” she growled into the phone. “I swear whichever one of you little demons tries to go outside and murder the local wildlife will find themselves in a corner for the rest of your life. Do I make myself clear?”
“Dang, Charlotte. She’s crying. You made her cry.” Malone managed to make it sound like the worst thing that had happened all night long.
“Could you order some pizza?” Boomer yelled. “Don’t cry, little girl. I’m okay. Just hungry.”
Charlie took a deep breath and looked back at Ian, who was following along.
Yep, she’d been right. Totally bad idea.
“Charlie, baby, you have to see the humor in the situation,” he said after roughly twenty minutes of chilly silence. “I mean the girls are barely five and they’ve got two Special Forces dudes on the ropes. There’s some humor there.”
This time the chill had come entirely from her direction.
She kept her eyes on the road. She was driving because Ian’s shoulder had popped back out of place when he’d twisted the wrong way trying to get to the box of leftover lemon tarts.
“Did you or did you not teach our baby girls, who aren’t even in kindergarten yet, how to build a fire?” She knew the answer to the question, but she wanted to hear it from his damn lips.
He turned to her. “How are they supposed to go to kindergarten if they don’t know how to build a fire? There are basic skills that are required to live, and I won’t apologize for that. They also know how to pitch a decent tent.”
Always with the sarcasm. Well, he wasn’t the one who had to deal with the public. He wasn’t the one everyone judged. “Do you know what they said to their preschool teacher the other day? You’re not the one who got called in. I am. I’m the one who has to deal with the teachers.”
“What did they do?” Ian asked.
She hadn’t mentioned it to him because she didn’t want to get mad. There was no way to avoid it now. He should know what his influence was doing. “The teacher told them it was time to come in from the playground and Kala said she didn’t want to.”
He sighed. “Baby, she’s stubborn. You know she didn’t just get that from me.”
He didn’t understand the half of it. “She got the other kids together and explained to them that they didn’t have to go in because there were fourteen of them and only one of the teacher.”
Ian snorted.
“She talked about how they could flank the teacher and take her out. She made plans in the dirt with a stick. She showed the others how they could overrun the teacher’s defenses and take back the playground. I’m not joking, Ian. Miss Mayberry was terrified.”
Ian winced as he turned in his seat. “Next time I’ll go and talk to the teacher.”
That would so put that sanctimonious teacher at ease. Shouldn’t a preschool teacher be tougher than that? “And that’s going to go so well. You think those girls can do no wrong. Do you know what they did to me at the grocery store?”
His eyes seemed to glaze over. “Well, yes, baby. They decided it would be funny if they played hide and seek with Mommy. You yelled about it for three days. I totally know.”
But she was going to tell him again. “They decided it would be funny to hide from Mommy and they pulled out the cereal boxes and hid behind them.”
“You called 911,” he said, proving he definitely knew the story.
“I called 911.”
“You thought our babies were dead.”
“I thought our babies were dead somewhere.” She still hadn’t gotten over the panic. They’d taken years off her life with that stunt. “And what did you do about it, Ian Taggart?”
He held up his working hand as though trying to placate her. “In my defense, I knew they weren’t dead. They were right in front of me.”
“You laughed, Ian. You high-fived them.”
He grimaced. “And that was wrong. I’m sorry, baby. I’m new to this whole parenting thing.”
“And I’m not?”
“No, you are not. You’ve been raising kids since you were a kid. I sometimes feel like a dipshit compared to you.”
He did? And honestly, it was rather clever. They’d managed to perfectly conceal themselves and stay off the security camera. They were only five but they’d considered the security cams. She turned on to the freeway that would take them home. “You raised a kid, too.”
“Nah, I raised a Sean. He wasn’t any trouble. He ate like a horse and he couldn’t comprehend algebra to save his life, but he was a good kid. Ours are rotten. Like Chelsea was.”
But it was said with a grin.
She would give him that because her sister still called him Satan from time to time. Chelsea hadn’t been easy. She’d been hard. She’d been stubborn and obnoxious. It had taken everything Charlie had to keep her sister alive.
Because they’d loved each other. They’d loved each other as fiercely as her twins did. Even at this young an age, Kenzie and Kala had each other’s backs. They watched out for each other in a way few children did. Bonded. They were fiercely bonded.
“Oh, god. It’s my fault.” Her hands tightened on the wheel as the truth rolled over her. “They’re not like you. They’re like me.”
“Well, I did manage to support my sibling in a legal fashion,” Ian said quietly. “I worked as a bagger and cleaned up at a fast food joint. You managed to become a teenaged assassin and then built one of the world’s most notorious information brokerages. And I find you endlessly fascinating, too. I know it makes you crazy that I love it when the twins do crazy shit, but it’s all because when they do it, I am reminded of just how much I love their mother. Their mother is a crazy bitch who rocks my world every single time she enters a room. Their mother is the best woman I’ve ever met and I want my kids—the girls and the boys—to be every bit as smart and savvy and badass as their mama.”
Damn. Now she wanted to pull off on the side of the road and mount him at the first possible time. Mount that man and ride him hard because he was hers and she was his. Because they made badass babies who might bring about the apocalypse and burn the world down, but they were going to be such amazing women someday. Women who could fight for what they believed in. Women who pushed the world forward.
Their daughters.
“You know Miss Mayberry never once mentioned that Kala already has amazing math skills,” Charlie said. “That teacher just talked about the bad stuff. How many kids know what it means to set up an army in a flanking position? From what I could tell between the teacher’s sobs, Kala’s battle plans were nearly perfect.”
“Damn straight they were. And I’ll give you a better one. That crossbow was locked up in the safe. They figured out my damn password.”
A thrill of terror went through her. “Holy shit. I thought one of them was watching me. I took out the Ruger to go with Erin and Phoebe to the shooting range the other day and Kenzie kept making up excuses to stay close. They’ve been planning this. I shouldn’t have let them watch Brave. They’ve been obsessed with bows and arrows since then.”
“I…I don’t think it was Brave.” His face was tense in that way that let her know she wouldn’t like what he said next.
“What did you do?”
“I thought The Hunger Games was about food. You know how much they like watching food talk,” he spit out. “It came on cable and I might have fallen asleep. It was right after Seth was born and then they totally blackmailed me so they could watch the second one, but I found out what happened in the third and I got dirt on them so we had mutually assured destruction and they haven’t seen Mockingjay. No way. No how.”
Her babies had blackmailed their father.
She’d blackmailed her dad. Oh, sure, he’d been a horrible Russian mobster who she’d eventually maneuvered into a position where she’d had him killed to save her and her sister’s lives, but…like mother like daughter.
“Charlie, baby, I know they make you crazy but they are the best things in the whole fucking world. I love my nieces and nephews—both blood and found—but damn, they’re sheep compared to our little psychopaths. Seth is my boy. He’s going to be dumb and strong, and he’s going to need his big sisters to show him who to beat the shit out of. They’re going to run the Agency, baby. I know it. I’ve already seen Fain looking them over. He’s not a weird pervert so I’m pretty sure he’s sizing them up as potential operatives. I’ll be happy if we can just keep them out of the business through college.”
They were super smart. A little ruthless for baby girls. And so much her and Ian.
“And they’re marrying Americans. Now that Damon has a boy I have to worry about foreigners,” Ian pronounced. “I’m instituting an arranged marriage thing in our family. American males only. No Brits and dear god, no Canadians allowed.”
She groaned. He was so obnoxious. “Just because you don’t like their bacon doesn’t mean Canadian men can’t make good husbands.”
Almost home. She got off the freeway. Was that a glow in the distance? Had Malone lied and the fire was still raging? Was their house in flames? Had they gotten the kids and Bud out? Had someone pulled the arrow out of Boomer’s leg and he’d bled out on her carpet and they would have to deal with his poor, sad, likely still hungry dead body.
“A civilization’s bacon says something about them, and you will never convince me otherwise,” Ian replied. “The only thing that could be worse is if one of my precious babies marries a vegan. What the fuck is almond milk, Charlie? Nuts don’t have breasts. They don’t have breasts.”
The truck shuddered and went still, rolling along but without any life.
Oh shit. She glanced down at the display.
“We’re out of gas. We have to walk.” How could she have forgotten about the gas? Ian had mentioned that they would need some on their way back, but he’d been eager to get to the party. Hell, he’d probably wanted to get there to ensure no one else got a lemon tart.
Her cell phone vibrated. She glanced down.
Please Charlotte. Please. I’ll do anything. I can’t handle it. It’s too horrible.
Her heart sank and she passed the phone to Ian.
He paled. “Park the truck.”
She shoved the F-150 into park. She was still in her corset. She’d shimmied into yoga pants but she didn’t have her sneakers on. There hadn’t been time, and who the hell could put on sneakers while wearing a fucking corset? No one. Not even Dita Von freaking Teese could manage it.
They were blocks from home. They lived in the country. She couldn’t walk without shoes. She would have to get out of the corset and Ian only had one working arm.
The world was bleak. Her babies…her precious babies.
Ian came around to her door, opening it and holding out his good hand. “Come on, baby. I’m going to Emmitt Smith this motherfucker.”
“What?”
“Emmitt Smith. Dallas Cowboys running back. 1992. It’s the last game of the season and the Cowboys need to beat the Giants in order to win a first round bye and home field advantage for the playoffs, but their best player, Emmitt Smith, severely separates his shoulder before the end of the first half. He’s got two choices—go to the hospital or suck it up and win. I’m going to suck it up and win, like Emmitt. I’m going to do it for our girls. And our son. Not the dog. He smells.”
She gasped as Ian leaned over and put his good shoulder in her midsection, lifting her into a fireman’s hold. “Ian!”
“I’ll get us home. I’ll save our babies from dumbasses and themselves. I’ll do it for us, Charlie.”
“Emmitt Smith was only holding a football,” she pointed out.
“His most precious possession.” Ian broke into a jog. “You’re mine, baby, and I won’t ever fail you. I’m leaving the lemon tarts behind. Be safe, little ones.”
He ran, sprinting in a way no man with a separated shoulder who didn’t play for the Dallas Cowboys in their heyday should run. His feet pounded the concrete, bringing them ever closer to their home and their devil children who might or might not have murdered Boomer this evening.
“I don’t smell smoke,” he said as he turned down their street.
It was a good thing. They might still have a house. Three more blocks and they would be home.
“Have I ever told you, you have the sexiest ass I’ve ever seen.” It was right there, his well-toned glutes working in time with his muscular legs. “I love you, Ian. If our children weren’t currently attempting to kill their babysitters, I would fuck you right here.”
He should know. He should never question where her desires lay.
He was her hero.
“And if I didn’t think my baby girls were currently attempting to burn down our house and accidently kill their infant brother, I would fuck you right here, too.” He never stopped running. “Yeah, Linkmans, I would fuck my gorgeous wife on your perfect lawn that always gets TP’d because you suck! Go get ’em, whoever you are. Get ’em good.”
She looked up and sure enough, there was a kid with a bulk pack of toilet paper standing at the edge of the Linkmans’ yard. Was that Johnny Kellerman? It didn’t matter because Ian was still running.
He ran past a minivan parked on the street. She was almost certain she knew that van. And it was rocking slightly. Whoever was in that van was having a nice night.
“Who are you?” TP boy asked, his voice hushed. “Is that Mr. Tag?”
“I am motherfucking Emmitt Smith!” Ian screamed and picked up the pace.
She held on as her husband heroically took them home.
She knew they were there when she heard Bud’s barking. The door came open and Bud nearly ran them over.
“Thank god!” Malone ran out into the yard.
Ian set her on her feet and she took a moment to reorient.
Malone had Seth in his hands, holding him under his little armpits and as far from his body as he could. “I’m pretty sure the toilet is overflowing because the girls were waterboarding their Ken doll. Boomer is alive but really hungry. The dog vomited on the carpet. Five times. It’s okay though because four times he totally ate it again. Only the last one stuck. And this one…god, he smells so bad. So bad. What do I do? How do you live like this?”
“Seth? That last frantic text was about Seth?” Charlie stared at him, her hands on her hips. “You were calm when the girls tried to set fire to the house and nearly killed one of your best friends, but you flip out over a baby’s poop? He pooped, Malone. It can be taken care of with a box of wipes and a clean diaper.”
“I’m used to terrible things happening. I can handle fires and Boomer getting shot. Been there, done that,” Malone admitted. “But not that smell. God, not that smell.”
Ian fell to the ground and didn’t even whine when Bud started licking him.
Charlie took her baby boy and cuddled him close.
“Situation normal, baby,” Ian managed to say.
Yep. All fucked up.
Two hours later, Charlie closed the door and the house was blissfully silent.
Date night had gone to hell, but the damage seemed fairly minimal. The house was still standing. Everyone seemed to be alive, though Malone had complained that his sense of smell had been forever damaged.
Boomer had survived. Theo had come over and stitched the big guy up as he’d enjoyed not one but two large pepperoni pizzas. Theo had some medic training and his wife, Erin, had helped out because… Well, she really liked blood.
The night was over and everything was quiet.
What a fucking day.
She locked the door and moved back into the house. What the hell had happened? Her girls. That’s what had happened.
So tired and yet she felt the need to check in on her babies.
She made sure the alarm was on and then headed to the room Kenzie and Kala shared.
No one there. Her heart skipped a beat. Why? Why did she do this? She should have taken the money from all the info brokering and lived a happy, designer clothes-filled life where her children never tried to burn down the house or murder people with arrows or…
She stopped in front of her own bedroom door. Ian was in the middle of their bed, his left arm taped up but still holding on to a baby girl. His eyes were closed, his head on the pillow, his arms filled with babies. Kenzie was on one side, Kala the other, and Seth was happily asleep on his father’s bare chest, his diapered rump in the air.
Yeah, that was why she did it. This ridiculous, overwhelming feeling of love was why she went home every night, looking for these amazing people who made up her family.
One eye opened, looking her way. “You coming to bed, baby? Sorry I left you with Theo. The girls were tired.”
She flicked the light off. “World domination is tiring.”
Even in the low light she could see the way he smiled. “Yeah, it is. It’s a Taggart world. My baby girls are princesses, but there’s only one queen, Charlie.”
Her. This was her house and she was the queen. She settled onto the mattress and cuddled close, one of their twins in between them. All of the warmth of her family encompassed her. They were here. Maybe they were whole or maybe there were even more Taggart demons to come.
Bring ’em on.
She was ready.
Charlie Taggart felt her husband’s fingers tangle with hers.
“It was a pretty good night,” he said.
She bit back a laugh. “Yes, it was, baby. Yes, it was.”