The Gender Plan (The Gender Game #6)(56)

“He knows enough to know how he feels about things,” I said calmly, interrupting her. “And I, for one, am glad that his apple fell so far from your tree.” Jay gave me an appreciative look, and I held out my hand to him. “Let’s go, Jay.”

Jay looked at the hand, and then gave a small shake of his head. “In a minute. I’m not finished.” I lowered my arm, but nodded, knowing I needed to let him say his piece. Jay looked back over to his mother. “Mom, this is… probably going to be the last time we see each other. And while I despise everything you’ve done to me, Lee, and everyone… I’m glad that I got to find an amazing family with Viggo and Violet. Their love for me is unconditional. Limitless. And as screwed up as it is, I would’ve never found them if you hadn’t put me on this path. So, thank you. And goodbye.”

Even I blinked in surprise as the young man excused himself and left, Desmond’s eyes burning a hole in his back on the way out. She stared after him even after the door closed, and then eventually rolled onto her side, presenting her back to the room.

Lacey stood up from the chair. “You should go,” she said in her ever-sweet voice. “I’ll be here on guard duty. Everything is taken care of.”

“You radio for anything,” I told her as Viggo passed over the spare keys to her cuff. “And if she talks too much, gag her.”

“Don’t worry,” she said, beaming so wide that a dimple formed in her cheek. “Ms. Dale gave me a debriefing on her I won’t soon forget. I’ll be careful—I’ll just shoot her in the leg if she starts something.”

It seemed odd that her voice continued to be sweet, considering the harshness of her words, yet I smiled. “You do that.”

Viggo and I left and climbed into the car. Jay was already waiting for us in the backseat, and as soon as I got in, we exchanged a big hug through the gap between the driver and passenger seats. “I’m so proud of you,” I said as soon as I let go of him.

“Thanks,” he said, blushing slightly. “I just… wanted to get it off my chest.”

“Well, it was good,” said Viggo. “You really got your point across.”

Jay flushed even deeper as Viggo turned on the car, executing a U-turn on the uneven dirt road that was more dirt than road. We drove the short distance to the house in silence. Viggo parked up front—mostly because he would be leaving soon—and we all got out.

“I gotta pack,” said Jay, and he scampered for the stairs.

I smiled at his exuberance, but it dimmed some when I realized he and my brother would be walking into multiple dangerous situations tonight. Anxiety suddenly struck me, and it took me a moment to pull myself together. We followed behind him at a sedate pace, heading upstairs to our room.

Viggo’s backpack was already packed, still lying on the bed where he had left it. I entered the room first, and then went over to the bag, picking it up. Turning, I saw Viggo closing the door behind him. I handed him the bag and watched him sling it over his shoulder.

“You packed everything you needed?” I asked.

“Even three of those surprisingly nifty waterproof bags you found,” he replied with a smile, a slightly teasing note in his voice.

“Everyone’s going to be super glad I included them in all the bags, considering you’re all going to a place where the stuff is practically everywhere.”

“It’s a good idea.”

We lapsed into silence, and a feeling of déjà vu fell upon me. It took me a minute to realize why: we had literally just done this less than a week ago. Said goodbye and had our last, lingering kisses before the mission began. I was beginning to hate it.

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Viggo asked, his green gaze studying my features.

“These damn goodbyes?” I quipped.

He chuckled ruefully and then smiled. “I’ve been thinking about it, and… maybe we shouldn’t this time. If everything goes according to plan—” He stopped, and then shook his head.

“Nothing ever goes according to plan,” I said, vocalizing what I was certain he was already thinking. “You’re not going to make me promise not to go into the city, are you?”

Viggo sighed heavily. “Of course not,” he said. “I know better, and to be honest, even with a broken arm and a still healing skull, you are formidable. Besides, who knows what’s going to happen? You might wind up having to.”

“I knew there was a reason I liked you,” I said with a smile. “You’re a smart man.”

“I know,” he replied with a wink. I smirked at him and then rose up on my tiptoes, pressing my lips against his in a kiss. It was short, barely a peck, but it still sent a pleasant hum coursing through my body. I settled back down on the soles of my feet and opened my eyes. “We should go.”

In response, Viggo threw open the door and moved into the hall. I followed him as he moved to the master bedroom—Henrik and Ms. Dale’s room—and raised his hand to knock. With the impact of his first knock, however, the door swung open, revealing Ms. Dale and Henrik, pressed together so closely that it was hard to tell where one ended and the other began.

Henrik’s face was buried in Ms. Dale’s neck, his hands around her waist, clasping her back firmly. Her eyes were closed, but she wore an expression of happiness and good humor, laughing huskily, her back arched as though she were pushing away from him, but her hands clinging firmly to his shoulders.