The Epilogues: Part I: Badge of Honor (The Potentate of Atlanta Book 6) Hailey Edwards (books for 10th graders .txt) đź“–
- Author: Hailey Edwards
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Not a single facial tic admitted if I was right or wrong as he set off at a lope for the Faraday.
“This explains why he’s always there when I leave or return home,” I mused. “The little stalker.”
I was so proud of him. I would have never suspected he was embedded so close to me. He did good.
His big reveal did leave me wondering who Reece and Anca might be, but that was their secret to share. Or not. I was happy either way. Curious, but content my team was a well-oiled machine.
The scent of meat hitting the grill set my stomach growling loud enough to raise eyebrows around me.
From the heart of the crowd, Addie and Boaz rushed me, sweeping me up into a two-sided hug that held my feet off the ground while they squished, squeezed, and smooched me. The typical embarrassing stuff older siblings inflicted on their younger counterparts. Almost worse than the parents in fifties sitcoms.
Sure, I shoved them away and wiped off their kisses with my palms, but I loved every second of it.
Midas rescued me from my siblings, and, in one smooth transaction, Ford swooped in to claim them.
He talked their ears off while guiding them toward the food and entertainment, allowing me a breather. They were in town for the week, so there would be plenty of time to catch up with them tomorrow.
If the past few days had been a nightmare, then this—right here, right now—was a dream come true.
Arm around my shoulders, Midas tucked me against him. “Are you going to change into your Torres original?”
“If I go to our room,” I confessed, guilt twisting my stomach, “I’m going to fall asleep, not get dolled up.”
When Neely heard his masterpiece went unworn, he would murder me. Maybe I could soothe his ego by wearing it to the wedding reception instead. It wasn’t like the color mattered when my wedding was as nontraditional as it got. The matching tie for Midas would fit that idea nicely too.
“You need to make the rounds,” Bishop advised me. “Everyone wants to congratulate you.”
“The pack set up six buffet tables.” Midas tempted me. “One is all chocolate.”
“Those are my kind of rounds.” Cookies. Donuts. Cakes. “Let’s start there.”
“I thought you might say that.” He leaned down to claim my lips, and my toes curled in my boots. “Coming with us, Bishop?”
“Those tornado potatoes aren’t going to eat themselves.” He patted his stomach. “Why does food always taste better when you put it on a stick?”
“It’s truly one of life’s greatest, and most delicious, mysteries.”
Focused on the guy frying the spiral cut spuds on skewers, Bishop hunted his prey of choice.
“My daughter, the potentate.” Tisdale’s voice carried over the din. “Congratulations.” She kissed my forehead. “I couldn’t be prouder.”
The world blurred around the edges of my vision as her words sank into me and soothed the ragged edges of old wounds. They would flare up again, they always did, but Tisdale gave me precious relief.
“Thanks.” I ditched her son to tuck myself against her side. “It doesn’t feel real yet.”
“You’ve had a big day.” She rubbed her hand over my back. “You know what would make it better?”
“Eating my weight in chocolate and then taking a weeklong nap?”
“I was thinking more along these lines.” She guided me away from the crowd. “We bought you a little something to celebrate your promotion.”
“We?”
“The pack and I.” She grinned at Midas. “Not even my son has seen it yet.”
Brows dipping low, Midas searched his mother’s face. “I’m alarmed you felt the need to hide it from me.”
“I wanted to surprise you both.” She cupped my shoulders. “Are you ready, sweetheart?”
“Yes?”
“Close your eyes,” she instructed. “Both of you.”
The problem with closing my eyes was I wasn’t certain I could crank them open again.
“Yeehaw,” Ford shouted. “Ride ’em, cowgirl.”
“Your Texas is showing,” I yelled blindly. “Tuck it in before I trip over it.”
Tisdale must have moved behind me because her chin rested on my shoulder. “Open your eyes.”
A massive black beast of a pickup truck idled at the curb. The driver side door stood open, and the smell of its new leather interior wafted to even my weaker nose. I laughed at the squeak toy alien from Toy Story hanging from the rearview mirror.
Color me surprised that Ford had upgraded his beloved truck.
“Well?” Tisdale leaned around me, concern knitting her brow. “What do you think?”
“About?” I scanned the area in search of a box or bag or bow. “Where is it?”
Ford slid in front of me. “How many fingers am I holding up?”
“Uh, three?” I swatted them out of my face. “Why?”
“That’s your gift.” He walked over to the truck and gave it a pat on the fender. “Can you see it now?”
The horizon tilted to one side as it hit me Tisdale had bought me a frakking truck. A monster of a truck. It stole my voice, and more stupid tears threatened when I should have run dry hours ago. I drifted around it in a daze, pausing at the tailgate when I spotted the license plate.
BMEUP
“Beam me up,” I read, laughing. “This is mine?”
“You spend a fortune on Swyft,” Tisdale lectured. “This way, you can save money.”
The motherly sentiment swelled my heart to the bursting point.
“I’ll have to learn to drive in Atlanta traffic.” I continued around to the hood. “That’s scary.”
“You’ll get the hang of it,” Tisdale assured me. “I have no doubt.”
“And if you don’t,” Midas said, amusement thick in his voice, “you can get Remy to teach you.”
A shudder rippled the length of my spine as I pictured her yelling directions at me from the bench seat.
“I’ll figure it out.” I patted the truck, already growing attached to the USS Enterprise. Or maybe I would name her the Enterpickup. “Well, Midas?”
He crossed to me, but he didn’t spare the vehicle a second glance. “I’m surprised.”
“You don’t look surprised.” I sashayed
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