Page 33 of Hunted, Season Three

“Don’t worry,” Val less than quietly states.“I’ll pretend my head thermometer doesn’t work and shove one up his ass instead.”

“Yes, please,” sings our woman.

“Fuck no,” he grumbles.

“Safety inspections are quite natural, Mutt,” Bunny says with a snarky smirk.

“For cars.”

“And for people,” our girl proclaims on a wink.

“How long until it’s safe to spank her?”Nolan lightheartedly asks Garcia’s sister.

“McAdams didnotacquire a radio or sat phone,” Garcia resumes speaking, “or any other viable means of communication that you need when you’re planning on having contact with the outside world that deep into the woods; however, I imagine his mother isn’t going to take his lack of connection very well given the response she had the last time he took an impromptu vacation without her.”

My boyfriend tilts his head in question.

“Per Zero’s report, she chartered a private jet to Spike Village twenty-two minutes after we had confirmed reports that the fake McAdams was in Florida headed home.”

“Fuckme,” escapes the man behind me on a low whisper.

“Yeah…” Garcia releases an almost defeated sigh as he lifts his own cup of coffee.“Mrs.McAdamsdoes not like having her precious son out of her sight for long.”One single sip is taken.“Let’s just hope she doesn’t come searching for him before Christmas…”

Chapter 7

Bunny

I let my legs that are dangling off the edge of the kitchen table gently rock, suck the white, homemade frosting off the tip of my thumb, and lovingly beam down at The Kid who is finishing up his holiday cookie creation.

“Look!”He angles his plate for me to better admire his artwork.“He’s a gingerbreadmanchanic.”

Oh…

Oh…boy.

How can one person be this adorably awful?

“Get it?”Additional enthusiasm rips through his expression.“Manchanic?!”

Rather than snow on his parade – after all it is Christmas Eve – I simply coo, “You’re cute.”

Kid’s cheeks slightly blush as he brushes off the praise with a bashful smile.

“Really?” grumps Mutt from the seat beside him.“He makes a corny fucking dad joke-”

“I gotta practice,” our boyfriend interjects, grin wildly growing.“I mean Iamgonna be a dad.”

He is.

They both are.

And that’s where I’m trying to keep my focus for now.

My attention.

Myenergy.

Yeah, Brad’s dead –for a fucking fact– but the saga that is McAdams I know isn’t.

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