Page 107 of Bossy Hero

His vision cascades to Lettie, warmth radiating from him to her.Oof. That’s one hell of a powerful gaze right there.

Despite my inner pep talk, tears fill my eyes, and my sinuses sting. I’ve seen that look before. Many times over the last sixteen years.

From Alan.

It’s love. Unfiltered and raw.

That boy is hopelessly in love.

Based on the brief chat I had with Lettie in the restroom, she clearly loves him as well. She’s also enraged at him, rightly so. However, their powerful love lingers.

When she asked what happened to my injured shoulder, I saw the change in her instantly as she listened to my explanation. What little color had returned to her cheeks after getting sick vanished again when I suggested the severity of the threat against Redleg.

It took her a minute to respond, but once she did, the meaning behind her words revealed her ever-present love for Tomer. She had no idea of the wasp’s nest she walked into this morning. Felt horrible for how she’d misjudged him, assuming he was lying to manipulate her. Apologized at least twenty-two times.

Sweet child.

Tomer clears his throat, recapturing my wayward thoughts. “Lettie, this is your father, Alan Lancaster. He didn’t know you existed until earlier today, so go easy on him. You don’t need to be scared of him because he’s the most honorable man you’ll ever know. You’re gonna love him.”

I had better leave, or else I’ll blubber all over the place. Thankfully, Tomer’s exiting, so I follow him into the hallway. And together, we wait for the people we love on the other side of the door.

Both of whom have been cheated out of their relationship for more than twenty-five years.

“Well,that’s it, then. Consider my decision made.” Sammy emphatically nods, oddly resembling a bobblehead doll. A beautiful one. Even exhausted from the last eighteen hours, she’s a radiant vision.

She and I kill time in Sawyer’s office while he, Alan, Leo, and a few others talk shop about this whole mafia nightmare. They’re likely drawing up battle plans on a whiteboard and hacking the NSA or whatever.

Not sure how this is my life.

“This is the last straw,” she adds, standing abruptly and crossing her arms. They rest nicely on her swollen pregnant belly.

I remember the days of having a built-in shelf. One of very few perks of the third trimester. Great place to put a sandwich. Or the remote.

Wow. My thoughts are all over the place, which tracks considering how little sleep I’ve had.

Oh, and the pain of a freaking gunshot wound. No big deal.

I brace my forehead on my fingertips, digging in firmly to hopefully release the tension. “What are you going on about, my dear child?”

She thrusts a straight arm toward the hallway in the direction of Alan’s office and the conference room. “Those meetings.That’swhat I’m talking about.” More over-the-top head bobbing.

My daughter’s known for her dramatic flair. As her pregnancy has progressed, it’s gotten worse. And her fiancé, Sawyer, seems to encourage it, doting on her like she’s a princess. He’s creating a monster and is pleased as punch about it.

Then again, it’s possible her reaction is normal, and mine is off.

Hold the flip phone. I still don’t know why she’s this fired up.

“Sammy, what about the meetings?”

“All the good shit happens during those secret squirrel meetings. Well, I’m not missing the next show, that’s for damn sure. From here on out, you can bet your sweet ass I’ll be in the front row with my popcorn.”

“I’ll bring the wine,” I quip.

Truth be told, she makes a great point. This morning’s meeting likely topped them all, and there’s stiff competition for that honor.

“Seriously, Mom. Let’s look back on what we’ve missed.”

“Darling, those aren’t our meetings. We don’t work here. I have a job of my own.”

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