Page 138 of Manhattan Secret
She’s so rarely quiet it’s hard to see, but who am I to argue with my hubby when he says something nice.
The hellraiser in question bounds across our room and struggles to climb on the bed, only making it after the third attempt.
She’s small for four, according to the testing from our doctor, but apart from her height, our girl excels in all the adolescent charts so far.
I don’t know what I’ll do with two geniuses in the house.
Living with one criminally minded genius is bad enough with just Lachie.
Though, for the most part, he stays on the right side of the law now doing amazing things for the FBI. Thank god he never wanted to be a field agent; I couldn’t cope with him being gone so much.
Instead, he’s the one behind the computer hunting down terrorist threats or espionage. Basically, my man gets paid to hack.
It’s his ideal job. I swear, his first few months, he was like a kid in a candy store, so freaking happy. Obviously, he can’t tell me much about confidential tasks, but I know he’s done a lot of good in his four years with them. A lot.
“Are we ready to go now?” Ellie asks, clambering to sit between us. Thumb in her mouth, and a stuffed cat under her arm. The poor thing has seen better days, but she’s attached to it.
“Soon, baby. Are you packed? We go to the airport in four hours, remember, I showed you on your watch.”
Ellie likes things a certain way, witheverything. Like now, while she’s obsessed with blue and knowing her schedule backwards and forwards. And the time she’d only eat square food or wear a certain pair of boots.
She’s fussy with what toys she takes on our family trips, it becomes a whole thing, so we always leave that up to her.
She nods at Lachie’s question, excitement in her eyes. She loves seeing her grandparents and before long, she’ll be able to see them all the time.
“Why don’t you go pick out three books for the plane.”
This is a magic word for Ellie, she adores books.
Already her bedroom resembles a mini bookstore.
Kisses all around, she jumps off the bed and scrambles off, shouting she’s bringing books for her cousins.
We’re going to end up paying for extra luggage.
We might have to tell Theo we need two cars when he picks us up.
Lachie takes this as his cue to drag me out of bed and bundle my tired self into the bathroom, flicking the lock, he has me pinned to the twin sinks in seconds—his mouth attached to my throat, his hands everywhere else.
“By my guess we have at least twenty minutes,” he groans, tasting me.
“Is that so?” I grin, leaning up on my tiptoes to reach his mouth, both arms wind around his neck.
“Laney, less talking, more doing me.”
His bossy nature hasn’t lessened one bit.
Fortunately for Lachlan Fierro, I happen to love the side of him that is extremely bossy.
He takes charge, he gets shit done and if he needs to, he takes names and numbers. Thankfully, his revenge days are far and few between now he’s matured.
Ha. Who am I kidding. People would be idiots to do him dirty. My clever boy will still destroy if he has to. Especially to protect his family.
Honest to god, there’s nothing sexier than watching him fix a problem.
Whether it’s something simple (to him) that needs fixing around the house or something bigger that requires his brain power and epic computer wizardry.
More often than not, the moment he finishes, I’m on him like a panther attack, ripping at his clothes.
