The Trouble With Trying to Save an Assassin (Murder Sprees and Mute Decrees #2)

by Jennifer Cody

I look over at my personal assassin/bodyguard/adopted son, who’s still staring unseeing out the window as he contemplates all his life’s choices and remembers how bad his taste in bed partners is, and I lick my thumb and wipe away a spot of dirt on his freckled face. Huh, didn’t come off. Bellamy startles as I start scrubbing at the spot. “What the hell are you doing?!” he exclaims, pulling away from my parental love and care. Obviously I double down, grabbing his chin and forcing him to face me as I lick my thumb again and wipe at the dirt marring his perfect face. “Stop it! That’s disgusting! Why are you second-hand licking me?!” Fox points at Bellamy’s other cheek. “Missed a spot.” Bellamy gasps and jerks himself free from my attention. “Those are freckles! They don’t rub off!” I give him a skeptical look and bring my thumb up to lick it again. “No, no, no! Keep your spit in your mouth!” I swear it was dirt. “My face is not dirty.” See what an amazing parent I am? No kid of mine is going to spend his emotional effort self-flagellating about their past emotional entanglements. Brooding and moody isn’t sexy on Bellamy like it is on Fox. Bellamy jumps out of the car, and for a split second my brain panics about his ward, but then I realize we’ve arrived at our destination and take a breath to clear away that weird reaction. Romily Butcher isn’t the panic-mode type—that’s me, by the way. Sexy, slender, curly blond hair and brown eyes. Usually you find me wearing a thousand ...