“I’m taking her to a safe house,” Tank said.
“Are there armed guards where you’re going?” her dad asked.
“Yeah,” Tank replied. “Me.”
Sydney loved that Tank was there, but she would have preferred to be handed off anywhere else. She could see her dad’s mind going a million miles a minute.
“I can ask ThunderStrike—” Mark said.
“Dad, Tank’s got this,” she scolded, at the same time her mom said, “Mark, he’s got this.”
Sydney took a few steps toward the front door, but Tank said, “Don’t go outside. I’ll pull into the garage when Caroline drives out.”
“Thank you,” Mark said to Tank.
“We’re out,” Caroline said as she led Grey toward the garage.
“I’ll close the garage door once I’m inside, then I’ll come in and get you,” Tank said to Sydney.
When the three vanished into the garage, Kathrine said, “Wow, he’s very handsome.”
Sydney smiled. “I didn’t notice.”
Her dad laughed. “Even I noticed.”
“Grey showed us a photo of all four brothers,” her mom said. “Very handsome men.”
“As long as they keep my daughters safe—” her dad said.
“You didn’t raise us to need a man,” Sydney pushed back.
“Not for protection,” Mark said putting his arm around his wife. “But it’s a completely different conversation if we’re talking about a life partner.”
“Why are we talking about life partners?” Sydney asked.
“Because I think we just met yours,” her mom murmured.
Sydney’s mouth dropped open, but no words came out. After several seconds, she said, “Thanks for dinner. It was fun seeing Robby again. Brought back a ton of childhood memories.”
“Sounds like he’s doing well,” her dad said.
“I would never have guessed he was a poker pro,” her mom said.
“Why?” Sydney asked.
“We used to play card games with you kids and he was terrible.”
“Poker is a skill,” her dad said. “Or maybe he’s cheating.”
Knock-knock.
The door from the garage opened, Tank stepped inside. “Okay, Cinderella, your carriage awaits.”
She smiled. “Are you my Prince Charming?”
“Absolutely.” He shook her dad’s hand. “I got this, Mr. Austin.”
“You better,” Mark warned as her mom handed him a wrapped plate. “My apple pie.”
