“Miles said he doesn’t celebrate the Fourth. I think he’s at the cemetery.” That grabbed my chest and squeezed tight. Fuck, I wasn’t sure what his story was, but it sounded painful. “Nacho said there was too much money on the table to walk away for a barbecue, so he’s running his food truck today.”
“No doubt,” I agreed, thinking of all the citywide fireworks and barbecues going on today. He would clean up. “We'll pack a plate for you to bring to Miles as well.”
“Sounds good,” Tex smiled, kicking up his boots on a lounger. “Can’t say I blame him though, I fucking hate this holiday.”
“The Fourth of July?” I asked. “How could anyone hate the Fourth of July?”
“Yep,” he drawled, popping the p. “Nothing but hyped-up Neanderthals with too many fireworks and firearms, acting like toddlers.”
“Tell me how you really feel.” Nash choked on his laugh, popping the tab on his Ginger ale.
Tex folded his arms behind his head. “Just reminds me of all those meatheads I served with. Fucking hypocrites, all of them.”
“Hypocrites?" I asked, scraping the grill clean with a wire brush.
“Yeah, hypocrites. The military is full of codependent guys who love to cuddle and ass grab. Yet, they claim they’re straight.” He snorted. “About as straight as my dick.”
I glanced over his shoulder, peering through the sliding glass door at McCormick and Stiles. They were doing their best to prove Tex’s point. Stiles had McCormick in a headlock, pretending to make him fuck his cock with his mouth.
Tex followed my line of sight. “Why don’t they just fuck already?” he asked, waving them off with his red-polished hand.
I was laughing when I answered, “I'm pretty sure they’re straight.”
Tex rolled his eyes. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”
Music floated through the outdoor speakers, and I figured West must have put it on from the kitchen. I grabbed a Ginger ale from the cooler as I sang along toProud to be an American. The gate swung open and Pharo climbed up the deck steps, stopping to smirk at the hot tub full of rubber birds.
“I've heard of a hot tub full of rubbers, but it wasn’t quite like this.”
I laughed, leaning in to give him the one-armed hug. “Glad you made it, man.” His striking looks never went unnoticed. Pharo was tall, like 6’4, maybe taller, and his body was jacked with muscle. His skin was tanned dark, probably from his time in Egypt, and he had the most unique golden eyes. He’d swept his highlighted waves into a man bun and was dressed in black cargo shorts and a matching black tank top.
Jax tapped Tex’s shoulder. “Wipe up your drool. He’s an asshole once you get to know him.”
I heard Tex respond, “Yeah, well, I’ve known a lot of pretty assholes, but that doesn’t mean I can’t look,” and I chuffed. The guy had a point.
Once the grill was hot enough, I headed inside to grab the meat, but Mandy called out, “Hey, could you maybe change the music?”
Born in the USAwas playing now, and everyone seemed to bob their heads with the music. “You don’t like this?”
Mandy swallowed and glanced around at the guys before admitting, “It’s getting to me.”
What he wasn’t saying was that the music was triggering him. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll find something else.” In the kitchen, I found West stirring a pot of baked beans over the stove. “Don’t forget to add garlic powder.”
He snagged my hips as I passed him, pulling me in for a quick, dirty kiss. “Is everyone here?”
“Yeah, they’re all out back.Alexa, play theTop Gunplaylist.”
“Come on, babe,” West grumbled.
“Mandy asked me to change the music, what do you want from me?” I grabbed the bag of meat Stiles brought and headed out back, just as the music filtered through the speakers.
Playing With Them Boys. Hell yeah. As if on cue, everyone groaned at the same time.
“Thanks a lot, Mandy,” Nash griped.
“What? I didn’t tell him to put this shit on. I just said change the music.”
WhenDanger Zonecame on, people started to move their feet, despite their obvious complaints. Tex popped up off the lounge chair and swished his slim hips as he made his way toward Mandy.
