I have been relaxing. Mostly. I know T.J.’s safe at the Sentinel compound, and Buck spoiled me with a perfectly cooked steak, roasted potatoes, asparagus, and a salad I strongly suspect he prepared by glaring at it untilit assembled itself.
There was kissing, too, before and after the meal, all of it with wine-soaked lips and roaming hands. I was tempted several times to tell Buck I wanted to skip dinner altogether, but the food smelled too good.
The only thing that mars the evening just a little, besides the risk of danger always on my mind, is the awareness that Weston and Calder are nearby, and I’m not with them.
It’s not a preference or a competition. If I were with one of them, I’d be missing Buck just as much as I’m missing them.
Even though the men have shared a woman before, I don’t know exactly what that looked like for them, and I haven’t asked. Things are still developing with the four of us, and with work and T.J. and everything else going on, our unconventional relationship hasn’t settled into anything resembling normalcy.
All I know is I enjoy any time I get with them, whatever it looks like, and I’m planning to enjoy tonight to the fullest.
A few minutes later, as I’m watching a reveal of someone’s new dining room, Buck’s phone rings. He dries his hands, takes the call, responds to whoever it is in clipped tones, then clicks off.
“Calder and Weston are outside. They want to talk a minute,” he tells me as he heads for his boots by the door. “I’ll be right back.” He looks more serious than usual, which is saying something, but maybe he’s just irritated about interrupting our evening.
After he steps out through the back door, I return my attentionto the program and tell myself not to be curious, but that only lasts about a minute.
When I mute the TV, the murmur of male voices from outside becomes more prominent. They sound close to the house, close enough that I hear my name.
I can’t even pretend to be a woman who can hear her name through a wall and not start paying full attention—especially when it’s coming from men I’m involved with, and threats are hanging over all our heads.
I set my glass down and go over to the door, which is unlatched.
Weston’s voice is the first I hear clearly. “She needs to know what the options are.”
Then Calder, lower and rougher. “Not like that.”
Options.A cold knot forms in my stomach.
I step away from the door, guilty for eavesdropping, but I quickly decide whatever they’re talking about is my business, even if they’re not choosing to include me.
“…if Kozlov pushes faster than we expect,” Buck says, “we need a fallback that doesn’t depend on luck.”
My pulse starts to pound.
“If there’s any sign the school’s compromised again, Elena and T.J. go to the Sentinel compound and stay there,” Weston says.
“And if the compound gets hit?” That’s Calder.
Buck’s delayed response is hardand flat. “It won’t.”
“That’s not an answer,” Weston says.
“It’s the one you’re getting.”
The sound of something scuffing over rocks is followed by Weston’s clipped tone. “You asked for contingencies. So let’s talk contingencies.”
The knot in my stomach starts to burn as Calder exhales like he’s tired of the whole conversation. “Worst case, Elena takes the kid and disappears under federal protection until the network’s fully burned down.”
My fingers curl against the edge of the door.
“Then one of us goes with them,” Weston says.
“No,” Buck barks.
“He’s right,” Calder says. “She’d need someone.”
None of them speaks for a beat, then Buck says, “If it comes to that, she won’t be alone.”
