Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 69069 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 345(@200wpm)___ 276(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69069 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 345(@200wpm)___ 276(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
And today’s interview being with a major news morning show? Yeah, let’s just say that it was going to be really fuckin’ fun.
“I’m sitting in the back,” I declared. “And if anybody has a problem with that, I’ll give you a hug and share whatever the fuck I have with you.”
Saint slid over a bit. “I don’t want the flu.”
“I don’t have the flu,” I said, but I didn’t sound as convincing as I probably should have.
“Nobody gets the flu this early in the year,” Dax grumbled as he walked in. “But just in case you do, stay the fuck away from me. Rowen would kill me if I gave the baby the flu.”
Dax was married to another of the ‘SWAT kids,’ Rowen used to be a Roberts and they’d just had their first baby together.
“A-fucking-men,” Ford said. “With Ashe being nineteen months pregnant, emotional as hell, and pissy to boot, she would seriously hate me for life if I gave that to her.”
I shrugged. “I wasn’t given the choice to stay home.”
“No, the fuck you weren’t,” Bennett said as he came into the room. “They’re ready for us. Grab your shit and let’s go.”
‘Our shit’ meant dress like we would for work, apparently.
After slinging on my gun belt and trying not to make any sudden movements, I followed the rest of them into the training gym where we could get a bit of training done when needed or we had spare time.
I immediately winced at all the harsh lights that were pointed at thirteen chairs in the middle of the room.
“Fuck,” I grumbled.
And, to top it all off, it was hotter than fuck inside the room.
“Fuck,” I heard Saint say beside me.
I shot him an amused look, then walked to the chairs and took the seat all the way to the left and in the back.
The others filed in around me, and soon every seat was filled.
The ones around me were the last, and the one directly next to me was Bennett.
And even then, he made sure to pull his seat as far over as he could.
I grunted out a laugh, which sounded incredibly pitiful, and took pity on Bennett by scooting my chair over about half a foot. Which put me out of sync with the other chairs and luckily hid me quite well behind Bourne’s head.
I slumped down even farther in my seat and closed my eyes.
I had no clue how far into the interview we were when Bennett kicked me.
I looked over at him with a glare.
“They’re talking to you,” he murmured.
My eyes went to the front where a woman was smiling serenely at me.
“I’m sorry, can you repeat that?” I asked.
My voice sounded awful.
“I said, what is it like working with your cousins on the SWAT team?” the lady asked.
Was her name Meredith?
“It’s like working with your cousins.” I shrugged.
What more was there to say?
I mean, they were my cousins. And I worked with them.
Bennett snorted beside me, covering his mouth with his hand to hide his smile.
I wasn’t sure what the funny shit of my statement was, but apparently it caused all the guys to be amused.
“Is that so?” Meredith asked. “It’s not different? You don’t worry about either of them at all?”
I looked over at Louis to see him batting his eyes at me.
“Louis is one of the snipers. I don’t necessarily see him get into many close contact situations to be all that worried about him,” I admitted.
I might feel differently if he were beside me, but I doubted it.
I felt the same way about Ford, my other cousin.
I didn’t worry about any of the SWAT team members any more or less because they were related to me.
“So, Louis got married to your daughter?” the reporter asked.
Since I was assuming she was no longer speaking to me, I chose to close my eyes again.
My head really wasn’t any better, and I knew that I was seriously running a fever now. I could feel my fuckin’ cheeks heating the longer I sat in the most uncomfortable chair in the world. What the hell did they do? Go shop at a fuckin’ bar to find these chairs? Didn’t they know that the tall chairs had to have some sort of footrest or the circulation was cut off to your goddamn legs?
“He did,” Bennett said from my side.
I leaned my head back on my shoulders and rolled out my neck, causing an audible crack to sound as I pivoted it this way and that.
When I straightened my head moments later, it was to find the reporter once again staring at me.
“I have the flu,” I said. “And these chairs are extremely uncomfortable.”
Her lips twitched.
“I asked if you felt like you had some big shoes to fill when it came to your father,” she said, this time much more sweetly.