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Jed leaned back and cocked a brow. “A baby, huh?”
She grinned. “Yeah. Mac and I are having a baby.”
His gaze shot to Mac, who grinned. Jed lifted his beer. “Congrats to both of you.”
“Thanks,” she said. “Hence the reason for all the mad recruiting the general has been doing over the past year. With a lot of us getting married, and now Mac and I having a baby . . . obviously I’ll be taking some downtime—”
“Retiring,” Mac said.
“Maternity leave,” Lily argued.
“Retiring,” Mac said again, his gaze focused on the game.
She rolled her eyes. “We’re still discussing that part. Anyway, we’re so glad to have you on board, Jed. Diaz already told us you did a great job on the Montana assignment. How do you like working for the Wild Riders?”
No one had ever cared whether he liked his job or not. Not when he was in the Marines, not when he was in the FBI. He did what he was assigned to do, like it or not. This was a different atmosphere entirely.
“It’s fine.”
She laughed. “You’re going to have to loosen up, Jed. I promise we don’t bite.”
“Jessie does,” Diaz said.
“And you like it,” Jessie shot back.
Jed shook his head. “Are all of you paired up?”
“Yes,” Lily said. “Like I said, that’s why the general needs some new blood. Some of us are moving on and out and it’s time for the next generation. That’s you, Jed.”
He didn’t know about the whole “next generation” stuff, but he liked the job. It was adventure, it took him around the country, and it beat the hell out of the boring shit he’d done for the FBI. When General Grange Lee had recruited him, he’d jumped at the chance to have a little more leeway in what he did for a living, while still doing a service for his country.
For the past year the general had trained him, put him through grueling evals. Then he’d let the other guys run Jed through maneuvers and practice scenarios, which meant time out here at headquarters in Dallas. He’d gone on a couple light assignments, nothing major, followed by the big one with Diaz—a harrowing undercover in Montana.
It had gotten ugly. He and Diaz had gone full throttle when the bullets had started flying. They’d taken down a group of survivalists, pulled in all the gunrunners and tied up the mission with a bright red bow. And hell, he’d done it all in his leathers and riding his Harley.
He liked this job.
“Templeton.”
He stood when the general came in. “Sir.”
“First thing, I keep telling you not to call me ‘sir.’”
“Sorry, sir.” Shit. Old habits died hard. “Sorry, General.”
Spence snickered. The general shot Spence a look that would freeze the devil in hell.
“You want dishwashing duty for the last month you’re working with me, Spence?”
“Nope.”
“Then mind your own fucking business.”
“You got it. Minding my own fucking business here, Grange.”
“You’re with me in my office, Jed.”
Jed got up and followed the general to his office, shutting the door behind him. He stood and waited while the general took a seat.
