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“Well shit. Luckily, I know a guy in Florida. He is a corporate lawyer, but also rendezvous in the underground. Ran across him when he was…donating weapons to the military.” I use the term donating loosely. Sure he gave a bunch to the military, but the way he got them is the…sketchy part. We operate on a don’t ask, don’t tell relationship, but we respect one another.

“Well, find out what the hell you can, Maverick. This is a clusterfuck and if we are going to cleanse it and get payback, we need to know who ALL the players are.” With that edict he leaves. What do I do when she finds out her father is one of them and I am going to kill him?

Chapter Eight

Nova

It has been three days since I went home with Loeb and my life changed. Don’t roll your eyes at me. I am not saying it changed in tremendous ways. No. But it certainly changed in small subtle ways that only those closest to me could notice. The morning after, we spent the entire day together. He shocked me that morning. He woke me up and told me to get dressed. Skeptical, I showered and met him downstairs. He met me at the stairs with toast, ham, and eggs as a sandwich and a bottle of orange juice.

“Where are we going?” I ask him, laughing. He is literally acting like a little kid right now and it is sweet and surprising. Nothing about this man says he was ever a little boy.

“I want to take you somewhere special to me. I realized this is moving at warped speed and that we have a lot to learn about one another. I wanted to give you the most important parts of me first.” he says pulling me into his arms kissing me before grabbing my jacket and hand.

“Well, lead the way.” I tell him intrigued by this side of him. On the way there, he asks me questions about my favorite movies, food, colors, books, any and everything he could think of. I, in turn, ask him as well. To say his answers shed yet more light on a side of him I think he shows no one else is an understatement. Nothing stuns me more than learning how much he loves T-Swift, Zayn and Imagine Dragons. This man is a mystery.

“Don’t look at me like that.” he says with a smirk as the disbelief shows on my face when he confesses that he loves musicals. Who is he? Before I know it, we are pulling up to an all boys home.

“What are we doing here?” I ask him, confused. He doesn’t get to answer because at least twenty little boys come flying out the front door calling his name and vying for his attention. I watch as he acknowledges each of them by name, not shy about hugging them and joking around with them. Watching how much these boys look up to him and adore him melts a piece of me I was trying to keep to myself. I can practically feel my ovaries doping themselves up with happy syrup.

“Alright boys calm down. I want to introduce you to Nova.” he says, turning his attention to me. I know they are young, but I have never liked attention…well…not since high school anyway. I wave a little and duck my head, not sure what to say.

“Oooo. Is she your girlfriend?” one of the boys asks in a teasing tone. I giggle when Loeb fake punches him.

“She is,” he says, winking at me. “Come on. Let’s go inside.” I follow him in and nothing I assumed about him makes sense after that. For the next four hours we play board games with them, help them with homework, sit and talk with them about whatever is on their minds and we cooked lunch with them. By the time it was time to leave, my heart was in love with those boys and I am hard pressed to admit, with him too.

On the way back to his place, he tells me how when he was in high school, he volunteered to be a mentor for the boys home, initially to have a reason to not come right home some days, but it turned into a passion of his. I want so badly to ask him why he didn’t want to go home but I figure I will save that for another time. After this, the rest of the days passed in a blur of mind blowing, out of body sex and snuggles. Yes. Snuggles. We watched TV and snuggle. We both read books and snuggled. I sit on his lap while he feeds me and he finds a way to tuck me into him even then. If I didn’t know any better, I would say he was deprived of touch. He is an enigma and I have an inkling that I haven’t even touched the surface.


Tags: ChaShiree M Romance