Joke's on You (SWAT Generation 2.0 Book 6)

by Lani Lynn Vale

  I grinned and hugged him tight. His tiny arms wrapped around my head and squeezed, likely messing up my hair. Hair that Asa had begged me to do today because he wanted it to look ‘just like his.’

  And usually, if it was within my power to give it to my kid, I gave it.

  Like putting gel in my hair and slicking it up so that it had a mini-mohawk just like his.

  “Love you, Daddy,” Asa said as he got ready to jump out.

  My kid was a knees to chest kind of kid.

  He had already put all of his crap back on, and he was bolting out of the car, running. His knees would practically hit his chest with how fast he moved.

  I wished all kids in the car pickup and drop-off line would do the same.

  But, sadly, they didn’t.

  Like today.

  The chick behind me.

  I could see her fixing her kid’s ponytail and bow as she inched closer and closer to my back bumper.

  I just prayed that she didn’t hit me, because I didn’t have time to deal with any fender benders.

  I was already pushing it.

  I usually was when it came to dropping Asa off and getting to the station by eight.

  The teacher unloading the kids opened the door, and Asa was gone, running inside before anybody could even say hi to him.

  “That kid.” She laughed as she looked at me. “You got a good one there, Officer Pena.”

  I grinned. “I sure do. Have a good one, Ms. Space.”

  Ms. Space, the language arts teacher, waved and closed my door.

  I moved forward out of the line in time to avoid being hit by bow-mom behind us.

  I was halfway to the station before I realized that Asa had forgotten his school folder on the floor of my backseat.

  Son of a bitch.

  Chapter 2

  Did you know that the center of a donut is 100% fat free?

  -T-shirt

  Dillan

  I packed the last of my homemade, decorated donuts up for the family that was having a party for their daughter’s first birthday, when something on the news station I was listening to caught my attention.

  “A SWAT situation has taken place at the local mall,” the man commenting said. “Kilgore SWAT officers are now on scene and engaging the shooter.”

  My heart all but stopped in my chest as I whipped around, spinning on my heel to stare in horror at the television.

  Every single time I heard about something that involved Booth Pena, my heart would stop. Fear would clog my throat, and until I knew that he was okay, I couldn’t do anything but think about how fucking stupid I was.

  Kind of like now.

  There Booth was, in a dangerous situation just like he’d put himself in for the last six years, and I couldn’t do a damn thing about it because I was a freakin’ coward.

  Why was I a coward?

  Because I was who my dad made me.

  My father, a decorated Army vet, loved to make Delanie’s and my life miserable.

  If my father knew that I had feelings for Booth Pena, shit would hit the fan.

  Hell, it had hit the fan when Delanie had wound up pregnant.

  That was why, sadly, my father no longer talked to her.

  I’d have done the same damn thing if I could, but Delanie had forbidden me from disowning him like he had done to her.

  We need his money, Dill-Pickle. I can’t do this all alone.

  Her words from the moment that she found out that she was pregnant, and again after my father had disowned her shortly after Asa’s birth? Yeah, those still burned like a brand in my brain.

  I hated my father.

  Hated him with so much passion that I was honestly surprised he didn’t burst into flames every time that he forced me to meet with him once a month.

  But, you didn’t cross David Gunnarson, the son of Iceland’s one-time prime minister. David Gunnarson, the man that moved to the states, defied his father in all ways, and even joined the United States Army, and became everything he could be.

  David Gunnarson who thought it was normal to treat his daughters like crap because they were just his to manipulate when he saw fit.

  Needless to say, our father wasn’t our favorite person in the world.

  Ever since our mother had died, he’d turned into someone we didn’t even recognize.

  “Shots fired!”

  I stiffened as I once again paid attention to the screen.

  Usually, the old man that came and talked it up in the morning, eating my donuts and drinking my coffee, turned the television on to the news station.

  It would usually stay on until I walked out after closing up the shop.

  My phone rang as I stared at the screen, and I woodenly answered it.

  “Hello?” I said, heart in my throat.

  “Hey, Dill.” Delanie’s voice filled my ear. “Can you do me a favor and take a lunch to Asa? They tried calling Booth, but he’s not answering. I can’t believe he sent him with no lunch today. Jesus. He knows Asa will straight up not eat.”

  I swallowed thickly at the television screen.

  “I saw them pull into the parking lot,” I said. “Right after a busload of kids. He probably ended up eating his sandwich again like he always does when he’s over there. And Booth intended to bring him another lunch.”

  “Well why didn’t he?” she all but growled. “I’m hours and hundreds of miles away. He can’t be doing—”

  I interrupted her. “There’s an active shooter situation at the mall.”

  Delanie shut up as if I’d slapped her.

  “Oh, no,” she whispered. “He’s there, isn’t he?”

  I wasn’t the only one that got scared when it came to Booth putting his life at risk.

  Though, Delanie’s worry was two-fold.

  Not only was she worried about the father of her child, but she was also worried about the uncle of her child.

  See, a long time ago, when we’d first arrived in Kilgore, I’d taken one look at Booth, and she’d taken one look at Bourne, and we’d fallen.

  Though, it was only much later, after Asa was born, that Delanie admitted that she had a crush on Bourne. And had since the moment that she met him.

  Most would think that Delanie and I would have had a falling out because she damn well knew that I had a thing for Booth Pena.

  But I knew my sister. I knew that had she been in the right frame of mind, she wouldn’t have done what she’d done that night.

  See, my father had come home from work—a private government contracted job that paid ridiculously well and kept him busy—and told us that our grandfather had passed away.

  He’d then said that he refused to go to the funeral, and that if we wanted him to, he’d send flowers.

  He’d send flowers.

  To his dead-wife’s father’s funeral.

  Instead of letting us fly home to help my grandmother and be there for her.

  My papa was our best friend growing up. After Mom died, it was Papa and Grams that took care of us. Papa and Grams that raised us.

  Then my father had overheard something that he didn’t agree with one night, and the next night we were all but gone. A week later, we were in the states, completely and utterly lost, and trying to find purchase where there wasn’t any to be found.

  As an afterthought, he’d then announced that we would be entering into an arranged marriage. Then, when we’d both questioned him, he’d shut us down with a swift, sharp word and left before either of us could say a word.

  So yeah, I knew the reasons behind Delanie getting drunk off her ass—or whatever the hell happened that she either wouldn’t admit, or really didn’t know about—and sleeping with the one person that made me feel alive again.

  “Yes,” I croaked. “He’s there.”

  She blew out a steadying breath. “If you wouldn’t mind still taking Asa…”

  “I’m closing up now,” I said
as I took one last glance at the television. “I’ll take him some lunch.”

  “Thank you, Dill. Love you,” she whispered.

  After saying the same to her, I closed up shop early, ran by the sandwich shop, and grabbed Asa a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, chips, and a sweet tea.

  Then I sent a text to Booth and hoped that he’d be okay later to get it.

  I arrived at the school in record time, walking into the office with a smile on my face.

  “Hello, dear.” The school’s receptionist smiled warmly. “Bringing your son some lunch?”

  I didn’t bother to correct her that I wasn’t Delanie.

  It really, really wasn’t worth it.

  The last time I’d corrected her, we’d had a lengthy conversation about how hard it was on Asa. How it must be confusing to have two sets of twins in his life play such important roles.

  Then, I’d missed half of Asa’s lunch all because the woman didn’t know how to shut up.

  “I’m here to eat lunch with Asa,” I replied.

  She nodded her head, did something on the computer, then printed off a nametag.

  I nearly rolled my eyes when it said ‘Delanie Davidsdottir’ on it and not Dillan.

  But again, I didn’t bother to correct her.

  “Thank you,” I said as I walked to the office door and waited for her to open it.

  She did, and I zipped out, heading straight for the lunchroom.

  I found my Asa sitting all by himself at a little table against the back wall.

  I smiled sadly, then walked up to where he was sitting with no plate in front of him.

  With ten minutes left of lunch, there was a commotion at the door of the lunchroom and I looked up to see Booth and Bourne barreling down on us.

  Booth had a pizza in his hand, and Bourne had one, too.

  I couldn’t stop the relieved breath that left my throat at the sight of both of them happy and healthy.

  Even though Bourne didn’t like me all that much, my sister liked him, so it was hard for me not to care that he was okay, too.

  And Asa seemed to love him.

  “Daddy!” Asa screamed loudly.

  All the other second graders that were around him looked at him, then at the two black-clad figures walking our way.

  Booth hadn’t even bothered to take his ski mask off completely. It was on the top of his head, resting like a beanie instead of covering his face.

  And Bourne had black paint on his cheeks.

  I saw all the second graders looking at the two men in awe.

  I also saw the moment that Asa became the ‘cool kid’ in their eyes, all because of his uncle and his dad.

  Asa bolted toward his father.

  Booth handed his pizza off to Bourne and scooped up Asa, bringing him in close to his chest.

  I watched, admiring the steady gait of Booth, as he sauntered back toward our table.

  His eyes latched onto mine when they were a few feet away, and my breath caught in my throat.

  God, was he gorgeous.

  Booth was six-foot-three inches of tanned, sexy skin. Black hair shaved into a high and tight—just long enough to give him a mohawk if he so chose—and the biggest hands that I’d ever seen. Then there were his eyes.

  His eyes were the windows to his soul. They showed when he was mad. When he was sad. When he was happy.

  Those intense chocolate orbs made me shiver every single time they landed on me.

  Like right now.

  I felt a tingle race up my spine, and I had the intense urge to get up and throw myself into his arms.

  I didn’t.

  Barely.

  Luckily, the squeals of a lot of little girls pointing at the two black-clad figures had me blinking out of my Booth stupor.

  I watched, hopefully blankly, as the two large men walked up to the itty bitty table I was currently sitting at.

  Even for me, it was small.

  So the moment that they sat down, I had to cover my mouth and close my eyes to keep my humor at bay.

  “It’s tight,” Booth admitted.

  “That’s what she said,” Bourne murmured underneath his breath.

  There was a long, silent pause. Then I couldn’t stop it. I laughed.

  “God.” I shook my head, switching my eyes from one man to the other. “That’s really not appropriate, and I shouldn’t laugh…”

  I left the last part hanging because that’s when I started to laugh again.

  Something on his shirt caught my eye, and I saw six ragged holes in his uniform shirt.

  I frowned.

  But before I could get a closer look, he shifted Asa so that he was covering the majority of whatever had caught my eye.

  “You already ate, Bud?” Booth asked, eyes staring at me warily.

  “Yes.” Asa didn’t bother to lie. “And I’m not all that hungry. My sandwich was good. They cut my crusts off perfectly.”

  I covered my mouth with my hand to keep the giggle inside.

  Booth’s brown eyes found mine and he rolled them.

  I’d been hearing for a while that Booth didn’t cut Asa’s crusts off correctly.

  If there was even a little bit of darker brown where a crust had once been, then he didn’t like it.

  There had to be absolutely zero crust, meaning that you practically had to cut into the ‘good bread’ to get away from the ‘bad.’

  Booth didn’t bother to try to make the effort. Delanie, Bourne, and I did.

  Which was why Asa never let him forget it.

  “Well,” Booth said. “I guess I’ll just have to enjoy this pizza on my own. How’s it going?” Booth asked, his eyes on me.

  Asa reached forward for the rest of his sandwich, and I absently pushed it over toward him, along with his drink and his cookie.

  “Good,” I said. “I got a call from Delanie asking me to bring this one lunch. So I closed my shop up early and headed out. Did you forget to bring your lunch today?”

  That question was directed at Asa, who continued to eat his peanut butter and jelly sandwich even though there was now pizza in front of him.

  “I ate my sandwich,” he admitted. “For breakfast. Daddy said we couldn’t stop at your shop because there were too many fu—” Booth placed his hand over Asa’s mouth before he could finish what was inevitably going to be a bad word.

  Bourne started to chuckle as he opened the box of pizza.

  I started to salivate.

  God, I loved Moe’s pizza.

  The only problem was that it was only open for lunchtime, and nine times out of ten, by the time that I had time to eat it, they were closed.

  “You gonna eat any of that pizza, Bud?” Bourne asked. “Or you gonna be boring and stay with the PB&J like always?”

  Asa took another bite of his sandwich in answer.

  “You have eight minutes, children!” a teacher bellowed from the front of the room.

  Most of the kids were almost done with their food, but there were some, like Asa, that were still eating.

  There was a mad scramble to finish before time was up.

  “I’m gonna finish this. Then I’m gonna eat two pieces,” Asa announced.

  I watched as he slowly took another bite.

  “Not like that you’re not,” I told him. “You better hustle up and stop eating like a bird, or you’re gonna have to go back to class.”

  “Daddy will just take me home,” Asa promised.

  My brows went up.

  “Not today, I can’t, bud,” Booth announced as he bit into a slice of pizza, effortlessly maneuvering it around Asa’s head. “I have to go back to work. But I’m on track to still pick you up.”

  Asa sighed.

  “Okay, so I’ll only finish this,” Asa grumbled.

  He did finish that, and a half of his cookie, before they announced that it was time to go back to class.

  Gym.

&nbs
p; Gross.

  I would’ve totally puked my guts up if I’d had to eat and then immediately gone to gym.

  “Love you, Daddy,” Asa said, throwing his arm around Booth’s shoulder. “Bye, Aunt Dillan. Uncle Bourne.”

  Then, without any other words, he was gone, leaving his mess behind.

  Bourne picked up another piece of pizza as he got up, picking up Asa’s trash as he went.

  He did save the cookie, though, popping it into his mouth on the way back from the trash can.

  I rolled my eyes and stood up, gathering my purse and keys.

  “Thanks,” Booth said as he closed the pizza boxes.

  Bourne snagged one more piece before he gestured for his brother to finish closing it.

  I rolled my eyes again.

  He’d already eaten five slices.

  Where did the man put it all?

  “You’re welcome,” I said as my fingers adjusted the strap of my purse to rest flatly between my breasts. “How did…” I didn’t say ‘the call’ but barely.

  Once again my eyes drifted down his chest.

  The holes that were there were confusing me.

  I mean, you couldn’t see them all that well, but you could see them enough that it was concerning to me.

  “What is that?” I asked.

  But before I could answer, his phone made a strange, coughing, broken sound.

  He sighed. “I have to get back to the station. I didn’t really have the time to stop by and bring lunch, but I didn’t want him to go hungry.”

  My lips quirked. “You could’ve read your text messages and saved yourself the trip.”

  His turn to roll his eyes.

  “Something happened to it,” he hedged. “Screen’s completely shattered.”

  I didn’t know what to say to that, so I didn’t.

  “You want to take this home?” he asked. “If you don’t, it’ll just go to waste in the car. I don’t have time to go by the house and put it in the fridge.”

  Bourne walked away to go talk to the secretary that worked the office, and I eyed the pizza like it was going to jump out and bite me.

  “I really shouldn’t,” I admitted. “I’m…”

  I refrained from telling him I was on a diet.

  He really didn’t need to know.