The Housewife Assassin's Guide to Gracious Killing Read Online Free PDF Page A

sorry, Jack. Sometimes I’m too stupid for words.”
    “No, Donna, you’re human. Besides, if you didn’t care, I’d be asking for a transfer.” Jack shakes his head sadly. “Let me ask you, how many times have you played the honeypot on an op?”
    I can’t help but snort at that question. “When have I not? Okay, say, eighty-five, maybe ninety percent of them.”
    “Including the ones we’ve been on together, am I correct?”
    My nod is grudging at best. “It’s part of the job. And… you’ve accepted it.”
    “Yes, I’ve accepted it. Do you think it’s been easy for me?”
    I know it hasn’t, not since our very first mission together. Jack’s assignment—to move in with me and the children and pretend to be my deceased husband, Carl, whom, it turned out, had left the SEALS to become a hard man—an assassin—for Acme.
    His “reappearance” (really, Jack’s impersonation) provoked the world’s most notorious terrorist cell, the Quorum, to come knocking on our door. Apparently, Carl had taken something the Quorum desperately wants. But whatever it is, it has yet to be found.
    Unlike Carl, who showed up alive and well.
    Turns out, he was a double agent, and one of the Quorum’s top assassins.
    But Carl’s misplaced this item everyone’s looking for. I can’t imagine what it was, but here’s hoping I find it before he does.
    Sheesh! After being married to a guy for thirteen years, you’d think I’d have realized something was wrong, am I right? I swear it’s true: love is blind.
    It blinded me a second time: When Carl resurfaced, he tried to convince me it was Jack who was the double agent. I believed him because I was grateful for his miraculous return from the grave, doubled with the guilt I felt at allowing Jack to replace him: as a father, a husband and a lover. 
    I believed Carl because I missed his touch so badly.
    I wanted to believe him, body and soul.
    Boy, was I wrong. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, take a bullet.
    Carl did. Unfortunately, he still got away. 
    Hopefully, he’ll stay away, forever. In any regard, I’m divorcing him. Maybe then, he’ll take the broad hint that he blew it. If he doesn’t, I’d advise him to watch his back.
    Divorces are sooo messy. 
    So is working with the man you love. I’ve heard Jack swear into my earpiece as other men touch me. Once, he beat a target within an inch of his life, all because the guy manhandled me too roughly for Jack’s taste.
    You can only imagine how I crushed Jack’s heart when I believed Carl over him.
    No, I don’t like playing the honeypot. But if I’m to be honest, I have to admit I love the way it stokes Jack’s passion for me. No doubt about it: being desired makes you even more desirable to the one who loves you most. 
    Like now. Forget pie. Jack is what I crave.
    My kiss tells him so. “Okay I get it,” I murmur into his ear. “I owe you an apology.” 
    “Or something.” 
    I love his naughty smile. And the way his lips know mine so well. Not to mention my neck… my breasts…
    One by one, his long, strong fingers nudge open each button on my sweater—
    “Mom!” Jeff yells from the top of the steps. “We’ve finished our homework! Now can we have some pie?”
    With a sigh, Jack drops his head onto my breasts. But just for a moment. Our fingers collide as we fumble with my sweater buttons. When I’m sure I’m primly attired again, I call up to the kids to come and get it. 
    To prove to Jack he can count on my love and devotion anytime, I cut him a humongous piece of pie, and top it with a large dollop of ice cream. 
    That should keep his tongue in tiptop shape, for later.
    Trisha giggles through a mouthful of apple rhubarb. “Mommy got her buttons all wrong! How silly is that?”
    I run upstairs before Jeff and Mary figure out what she’s talking about.
     

    “How sweet! A pie!” Despite the delight in her tone, Babette stares down at my offering as if she’s already gotten a