“We don’t need another T-shirt, Daddy, but can we have a pair of your blue and white boxers?” Soren asked giving Arlington a pleading look as Taggart began letting out more string as the wind picked up a little.
“If it will keep my T-shirts intact, I suppose one pair can be sacrificed,” Arlington relented as his lips twitched.
“Ohh, and we’ll definitely need another fun sock.”
“Well, you will have to find that elsewhere, since Daddy doesn’t own any fun socks.”
“How sad,” Soren murmured, as yet another thought began to form. “Everyone should have fun socks. We should get Daddy some. For playtime, when it’s just us. We should get him ones with fun characters and foods he likes.”
“Yes, let's,” Taggart agreed giddily dancing on the spot. “He can wear plain things during security times and fun things when it’s just us at home.”
Grinning, they locked eyes as their plan took shape.
“Daddy needs our adventures as much as we do,” Taggart whispered as Soren slid an arm around his waist.
While the sky was still blue, it was getting dimmer as more clouds began drifting in from the east. There had been storms out that way, and now Soren distinctly picked up the scent of impending rain.
“Yes, he does.” Soren shivered. “Right now, we need to bring our kite down. The rain is coming, and the wind is about to get stronger. Let’s help Daddy by getting ready to go home before the storm comes.”
Nodding, Taggart began to carefully reel it in. They soon had it back in their arms safely and hurried to where Arlington was already opening the back door of the SUV for them.
“Always saving me from the storms, Daddy,” Soren said as he slid in and carefully placed the kite in the cargo area behind him.
“I have to,” he replied as he closed the door behind Taggart after he’d gotten in too. “Since you always seem determined to get caught in them.”
Chapter Twelve
Taggart
Outside there was a hive of activity that didn’t bother Taggart, or wouldn’t usually, today was different because the wallow was being dug out. The wall had been started at the beginning of the week, and they were making significant progress on that. He had no actual interest in, not really. The wallow—now that was a different thing altogether because when it was finished, he was going to get to play in it with both Arlo’s rhino and Soren’s bird.
He'd spent days imagining exactly what it would be like to lie on Arlo’s big body floating in the water. He’d projected those thoughts to both mates, driving them nuts with positions because he wanted to find the perfect place to lounge. Soren had subsequently blocked him because he advised he couldn’t concentrate ‘for toffee’. Not that Taggart got that, but he smiled and tried to reel back his overenthusiastic thoughts.
Had it worked? Well, not really, but he had tried.
Those excited feelings were what he had used to keep grounded, as he’d continued on with mining information to keep himself occupied while all the busy work happened outside. There was so much data that even the keyword searches he was using had to be refined constantly with each relevant piece of information that Arlo thought pertinent to the investigation. In his line of work, progress could be small or monumental. Right now, it was the latter, though Taggart’s gut suggested there was monumental shit inside the files, he just hadn’t found ityet.
He’d started a search on the name of the remaining evading council member, who seemed to have disappeared into thin air. Someone was hiding him, and that frightened Taggart more than he could voice to his mates. He’d dialed back his worries with concerted effort when it upset Soren so much that Arlo had to go all Daddy on him once more. It wasn’t a bad thing when it showed how much Arlo cared about him and Soren. It was just that he felt so bad when he got into trouble. No matter how much he told himself his mate—his Daddy—would forgive him, he didn’t like being naughty after he’d gotten rejected so much in the past. Then his brain would spiral, and the sass would happen.
He'd gotten to sit in the corner for twenty minutes, not allowed to talk or listen to music. Daddy had pegged him right on the punishment. It was torture when he knew Soren was getting cuddles and Daddy's time in another room.
The door opened, and Taggart realized too late he’d zoned out of what he was doing and had to quickly blank the screens when it wasn’t either Arlo or Soren standing in the doorway.
A shifter Taggart couldn’t remember meeting, that smelled weird, gaze swept the room with way too much interest. Dressed in dirty jeans and a ripped T-shirt smeared with something gray that could have been concrete, his boots looked odd when they were shiny.
Taggart rose from his seat, grateful Arlo had reminded him to pull on shorts so he wasn’t naked, frowning at the stranger. “Are you lost?” he asked, uncertain why someone would be back in this part of the house when he couldn’t get a read off the other man.
Daddy, can you come to my office, like now?
Whatsup?
“I was looking for a bathroom to use. The one”—he jabbed a thumb over his shoulder towards the front of the house—“is got someone in and I’m desperate to go.” Before he’d finished speaking, he was fully in the room, looking at the blank screens and at Taggart’s equipment and scattered files. Taggart moved around in front of his desk trying to shield some of the information.
Taggart, what is it?
There’s a stranger in my office, he just walked in and—
I’m coming, have you got anything to use to protect yourself?
