Total pages in book: 131
Estimated words: 131387 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 657(@200wpm)___ 526(@250wpm)___ 438(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 131387 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 657(@200wpm)___ 526(@250wpm)___ 438(@300wpm)
Oh.
Well then.
I smiled at her.
She didn’t smile back, but I could swear there was a twinkle in her eyes.
And then we all ate spaghetti.
Something to know.
Goons liked puppies.
I learned this by watching Mark sit on the floor in the romper room and letting all of Hutch’s babies crawl all over him.
But Mrs. Matthews pointed.
“I’ll take that one,” she announced like the puppies were donuts in a case.
They all looked a lot alike. All black. At this juncture, it was the color of their collars you had to use to tell them apart.
“That’s Nike and you picked well, Mrs. Matthews,” Hutch told her. “She’s one of two not already claimed.”
“You named that darling after a shoe?” Mrs. Matthews asked, horrified.
“No. I named her after the Greek goddess of victory, strength and speed.”
“Well, that makes sense,” she muttered. “I suppose they cost an arm and a leg.”
“If you want her protection trained, she does,” Hutch replied. “But gotta tell you, if you don’t, I’ll have to give you some breeder names. She won’t go wanting for long for an owner who needs her for what I’ll be training her for.”
“I want it all,” Mrs. Matthews informed him. “The boys can use the assistance, and they’ll love her.”
Her boys didn’t need assistance.
She might be a modern land baron (as such), but she didn’t need a guard dog.
She saw her son falling in love, and she loved her son, so that was that.
“Mark. We’re going,” she called.
Mark didn’t move.
He was busy tickling Remo’s belly.
Mrs. Matthews sighed.
Hutch gave her an out at the same time giving Mark more tickle time. “How about I get you a contract. You can take it with you, look it over and give me a call?”
“Let’s do that,” she said.
They took off to go to Hutch’s office, and I dropped down by Mark to get some tickles in too.
Very quietly, he said, “Dad died when she was pregnant with me.”
Stunned he was giving it to me and saddened at this knowledge, I turned to him.
“Car accident.”
“Oh God, Mark. I’m so sorry.”
“Yeah. Me too. She practically worshiped him. But they were young, and him dying that early put her in a bad spot. She worked her ass off to keep us fed and in the house she and Dad picked to start a family. And she just kept working. She had it rough. She had to be tough. She never wanted to be in that place again, and she wanted to leave me and mine so we wouldn’t ever be there either. Eventually, I took it over, my wife does the books, my boys got on board. But Ma has to be the face of things. It’s habit. The tough cookie who doesn’t get screwed over. Love her, and it really doesn’t matter that me and my boys do all the work and look like lackeys. She’s not going to be here forever, and this connects us daily.”
“You don’t really have to explain this to me.” I smiled at him. “I didn’t think you were a lackey. I thought you were a bodyguard.”
He chuckled.
Then he said, “She really likes you. She says you remind her of her. Striking out and taking risks to make your mark. She says, no matter how small that mark is, it’s still a mark.”
“Your name?” I guessed.
He looked sad. “My name is my dad’s name.”
I bumped shoulders with him. “And he made his mark.”
For a moment, Mark stilled.
Then he winked at me.
He decided tickle time was over before I did, but I expected this was so he could get his mom home and get home to his wife.
Eventually, Hutch and I stood on his porch with Tonks out nosing the ground to find her evening bathroom spot and Hannibal sitting next to Hutch, while I (not Hutch) waved them away.
After their taillights went out of sight, he called, “Come!” to Tonks (who’d taken care of her business, and by the way, she now had “come,” “drop it” (which she mostly had before from the fetch sessions) and “leave it” down, so she came right away).
We went inside, and as Hutch locked the door, I said, “It was kind of you to invite them to stay for dinner.”
He looked at me. “She’s like me. She needed to be sure you’re okay.”
God, this guy.
I went to him, put my hands on his chest and said, “Honey, seriously. I’m fine.”
“Talked to Rus today. They still haven’t apprehended Enstrom or Buress.”
I frowned.
Then I said, “They’ll get them.”
“Yeah.”
“I’m gonna make hot chocolate,” I informed him. “You want anything?”
He shook his head.
I rolled up to my toes and gave him a quick kiss.
Then I walked into his fantastic kitchen to warm up some milk on a century-old-plus stove.
THIRTY-ONE
Your Answer
Hutch
Late Wednesday afternoon, Wade pulled up the crime scene tape for Hutch, and Hutch ducked under it.