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“Thanks, Doug.” I glance at my three friends. “You okay with this?”
“Fuck yeah, but it’s not us you need to worry about. Jay is the final decision maker in this scenario. She may have her heart set on a different idea.”
“She won’t,” Rich chimes in. “What Ace had planned will be exactly what she wants.”
“What about you? Are you okay with this?”
“Hard not to be, knowing what you’re giving her.”
“Can I trust you and Amanda to sit on this for a while?”
He shuffles uncomfortably, and I feel slightly guilty for asking him to hide something else from his daughter.
“Give us a heads-up when you decide to tell her so we can disappear for a few days.”
“Got it.” I laugh, thinking about the tongue-lashing she gave him on Friday afternoon before we came here.
Drake and Sam walk up with their arms full of beer bottles.
“I think I love your girlfriend,” Sam comments, handing me a fresh bottle.
“I know I do,” I reply icily, watching the cocky grin slip into place.
“Any chance there’s a sister?”
“Only child,” Rich answers with notable relief. “We knew immediately one Harley was all we could handle.”
“How about cousins?”
“We may have some rabid contenders on Amanda’s side of the family. Her cousin Shayla is a wild child.”
I smile at the reminder of Shayla. I met her several times during my senior year and was thankful Harley had her in her life. She was confident, no-nonsense, and tough. Everything Harley needed to get past the pretentious bitches that judged her in high school. Through the years, Harley kept me updated on her continuous tales of ‘debauchery’, as she liked to call them.
“How is Shayla?”
Rich arches an eyebrow with a quick shake of the head. “Last I heard, she’s bulldozing her way through Europe, driving her parents crazy. No plans to settle down but doing quite well for herself in the fashion industry.”
Sam doesn’t even blink, instead keeping his eyes on mine. “I’ll look forward to meeting her at the wedding.”
I smile widely, tipping my beer at him.
“I’m getting the vibe that Jewls is off-limits?”
A low rumble comes from Major’s throat.
“Better move soon, man, or else someone will.” Drake takes his life into his own hands by poking his brother, whose jaw ticks.
“We’re just friends.”
The sound of Elton John screeches through the air, followed by a loud cheer of approval. The women are shimmying and twirling, each with a full glass in one hand and the other arm in the air.
“Any idea how much Sangria your mom made?” Jim asks Major.
“Her list of ingredients was triple the usual, if that tells you anything.”
“And we’ve been pouring heavy,” Drake provides, with Sam nodding.
“An afternoon of margaritas followed by a night of highly potent Sangria, perfect.” Doug sounds pleased. “Now it’s time to talk.”
“I agree, it’s the first time we have you four together.” Mark, Talon’s father, is an easy-going man. Like Talon, he’d rather crack a joke for a good laugh, but his tone is stone serious.
My good mood vanishes and my body goes rigid. This is not the type of conversation where they razz me about Harley and buying the land to build her a house. This is leading somewhere darker. Somewhere we can’t go.
The guys told their parents the same story when we left active duty for the Reserves. I glazed over the details with my mom in the few times we spoke, but I’d told Rich as much as I could. The explanation was simple and easy. Only the four of us, and a few highly specialized officials, know the details of our commitment.
Mark, Doug, Jim, and Rich all share the same serious expression, and I know their trek around the neighborhood wasn’t to check out the surroundings, but to give them time to plot their attack. They teamed up, knowing we’d do the same.
“What do you want to talk about?” Ford asks his dad casually.
“Are you going back?” Doug goes straight to the point.
“We hope not.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
Talon, Ford, and Major all look to me, silently communicating it’s my choice how far to take this.
“It means there are only a few scenarios that would pull us back in. In the event that happens, it’s temporary.”
“Would you go back into the zone?”
“Depends on the situation.”
“Any chance you can enlighten us on the scenarios?” Drake questions acidly.
Our silence is our answer.
“Didn’t think so,” he mumbles.
“So, you’re not out of the woods yet?” Jim speaks up.
“Dad, we can’t go into details. The probability is slim, but in the off-chance we get called up, whatever the reason, it’ll fall directly under special operations,” Major tries to explain.
“This makes no sense. The military has thousands of people who should be able to handle things like that.”
“No one similar to us. Like I said, the possibility is slim. We made a deal with the Marines that is highly unusual.”
