Her Light & Tender Heart [Completed]

You are the Sunshine of My Life

Dedication: This chapter is dedicated to the Academy Fan Fiction group on Facebook. They turn readers into writers, and I'd challenge anyone to find a more supportive group of people online.

Chapter Four

"I heard that JFK did it with a goat."

"For real? That's crazy."

"Yeah, I swear. My brother told me."

"Was the goat into it?"

"No clue."

"JFK is a rapper, right?"

I estimated another twenty minutes before my headache turned into a colossal migraine.

"Were we like that?" North's voice rumbled beside me, scowl firmly in place as he surveyed the young dogs loitering around the shooting range.

"Worse," I snorted, feeling a smile tug at my firmly pursed lips. "North Taylor, you were much, much worse."

"At least we never talked about fucking goats," North pointed out dryly, as he repositioned the holster at his hip. "Literally."

"No, just buying an army of them to open your own ice cream shop, based on a foundation of goat milk," I retorted, unable to stop myself from raising an eyebrow in challenge. "At least, that's what your brother did."

"Fucking idiot," North sighed, but I caught the fondness for his brother mixed in with his disapproving tone.

"He also wanted to use them to climb mountains, and see if they could help with sneaking into buildings over three stories high. Thought they'd open a whole new level to retrieval gigs," I added, remembering the look on eleven-year-old Lucian's face when Owen informed him that we would not in fact be purchasing a herd of goats. I'd never seen him so crushed.

North mumbled under his breath, most likely thanking the Lord that he hadn't spent his teenage years taking care of farm animals, before checking his phone for what must've been the twelfth time since we'd arrived.

Which was ten minutes ago.

"How much longer are we here for?" He asked, putting the phone away as I watched one of the boys poke at a dead worm on the ground. Did I really used to find things like that interesting?

Then I remembered the toothpick playground I'd made for a family of rolly-pollies in my backyard. It was the highlight of my eight-year-old life, until the dad was accidentally impaled on their seesaw.

"We just got here, North."

His agitated sigh was partially masked by a particularly loud competitor in the belching contest to our left.

"I don't know how Ravenstahl and the others do this all the time." My broodiest brother shook his head. "They're so loud, and small, and annoying. Look at them, running around like little shits."

We hadn't even started the training class yet. Why in the world did North volunteer to help fill in for the Toma team today?

Oh, right. Because Sang was inside helping with Nathan's martial arts class.

"Raven's favorite TV show is Spongebob," I pointed out, something that never failed to tickle my funnybone. "He fits right in with them. Plus, if any of the little hooligans step out of line, he just needs to look in their direction and they become perfect little soldiers."

"Why don't they do that for me?" North frowned, crossing his arms in a way that was meant to intimidate. "I'm just as scary."

I couldn't suppress a snort.