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Jackson didn’t hesitate to get in a quick jab himself. “Better get Mark back to the gym, Quinn. Or the tanning salon. Everyone knows fat looks better tan than pale white.” Mark constantly gave Jackson shit for his nickname, claiming it was because Jackson had a muffin-top.
“Hey, hey,” Liam hopped in, “don’t beat up on him too much.”
“Thanks, brother.” Mark gave a smug smile, appreciative for Liam coming to his defense.
Liam grinned mischievously. “It’s been cold out here. Only gonna get colder. Twilight’s just plumping up. Getting his insulation primed and ready for those cold winter nights.”
“Yeah, he has to keep Charlie warm, you know.” Ben finally got his chance to chime in. “Or make sure he’s warm enough on his own when she finally sees the light and kicks him out.”
“You bunch of twatwaffles are way outta my league. There’s nothing better than this piece of man cake right here.”
“More like pancake,” Ben said. “A big ol’ fat stack of pancakes.”
“I’ll show you assholes some pancakes.” Mark stood and pretended to show us his ass.
“No one wants to see your ugly ass. Bad enough we gotta look at your face every damn day,” Quinn hollered.
“That’s all right. My ass is only for my wife anyway.”
“I’ll bet,” Quinn spat out on a laugh.
“Every piece of me is exceptional, and you know it.” To prove himself, he ripped his shirt off over his head and flexed for all of us. His huge arms, covered in tattoos, were bulging. He grinned as he made his bulky chest muscles dance to the beat of a song only he heard. “Let’s see how you pansy-ass mother fuckers compare to this right here.”
“Stop with your striptease. We don’t have sunglasses to protect our eyes against that stark whiteness. You’re gonna blind us all with that glittery, pale skin of yours,” Jackson told him.
“Plus, I’m all outta dollars,” Ben added.
“Cheap asshole,” Mark kidded.
“All right, you bunch of Neanderthals,” Jackson said, “we need to get back to business.”
Mark smirked as he covered himself again, proud of the fact he had effectively shut us all up. “The ladies love this,” Mark said in one final attempt to redeem himself as he ran his hand over his body.
“I’ll be sure to let Charlie know you said that,” Ben said.
“Don’t you fuckin’ dare,” Mark threatened. If he didn’t know Ben was joking, he’d probably be on the ground begging for Ben to keep his secret.
We all shared another laugh. Then Jackson cleared his throat in a way that indicated we needed to get back on track. That brought our attention front and center. We all shut the fuck up, prepared to focus on work instead of trying to outdo one another.
None of us meant a word we said when we joked like this. But it was standard procedure for our group to say shit just to get a rise out of one another. To see who could outdo who. Every time there was an opening, someone took a cheap shot to try and get under the other’s skin. Working with these guys was a blast.
If it weren’t for these guys, I didn’t know where I’d be right now. If I’d even be alive. Little did they know, I owed them my life. When I was down at my lowest, they had helped bring me back to life and gave me a purpose to live for.
* * *
I was thrilled to be taking point on the West Coast assignment. It wouldn’t be like being on a mission, I knew that, but being lead on this operation would get me out from behind the computer. At least for a while. It felt promising, knowing I was still of good use. And the fact that Jackson and my other co-workers recognized this made me feel good.
I checked my phone, expecting a long list of notifications. I didn’t have it on me since before the meeting with Jackson, Rogers, and Cruz. I rubbed my eyes and face. It had been a long and grueling day so far.
Only one notification mattered as I skimmed over the notifications.
Marisa’s awaiting text caught me off guard and got me sidetracked.
She wanted to see me.
And it wasn’t even Wednesday.
I needed to be paying attention to work. Marisa’s text made me want to blow it off and go to her.
