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“Oh, right, right, right,” I said, remembering the SEAL code for nicknames. I kept my snort of laughter in check as I asked, “And what’s yours again?” My big brown eyes faked innocence, unlike the titter in my voice that gave me away.
She groaned out and covered her face. “Kitty,” she said through her hands.
“I’m sorry”—I brought my hand to my ear—“I didn’t quite catch that.” My laugh almost sputtered out of my mouth.
Catherine dropped her hands, her eyes squinting into teeny slits as she glared at me. “Kitty,” she said unamused.
“Oh, that’s right.” I tapped my chin with my perfectly polished fingernail. “Kitty Cat.”
“Ugh, I hate Mark. Stupid dumbass Mark Dixon.”
“Meow,” I said and stretched out my arm to her like a cat.
“You’re a bitch, you know that?”
At that, I made my hand into a cat-like claw and hissed at her a few times. I lost myself to laughter. Catherine did too. We were laughing hysterically. She couldn’t fool me. She loved Mark like a brother. Hated him like a brother. But mostly, she adored him for helping to keep Jackson safe and alive, just like she did all the guys who worked with him.
“All right, back to Sandman.”
“Who?” I asked.
“Tyler. His name is Tyler Sanderson.”
“And why do they call him Sandman?”
“I don’t know.” Her shoulders rose and fell in a shrug. “’Cause he’s super dreamy. Really, super dreamy. Like he’s the Sandman who brings good little girls really good dreams at night.”
“Oh, God,” I groaned out.
“I bet he gets the ladies to say that a lot too.” She snorted.
“Catherine, might I remind you, you’re married. Happily married.”
“Very happily married. But I can still appreciate a good man. Especially when I’m trying to help my friend out.”
“Good deflection,” I commended her.
“I’m not covering anything up. I have the best husband in the world. I’m just sayin’ Tyler’s a great guy too.”
“Huh.” I contemplated her words.
“You might remember him.” I gave her a blank look, not knowing who on Earth she was talking about. “He works with Jackson.” She was thinking . . . “He was at our New Year’s Eve party the year before last.”
“I’m gonna need a little more than that.”
“Sandy blond hair. Deep blue eyes. Tall. Really muscular. He works out all the time. Broad shoulders.” She waggled her brows. “Like I said, super dreamy looking.”
“You mean the guy that spent the whole night in the corner looking like someone kicked his puppy.”
“Uh—”
“Catherine, he barely said more than ten words to me. Pretty sure I literally counted them because I thought to myself, there’s something wrong with this guy.”
“There’s nothing wrong with him.”
“Well, I doubt he’d be interested in me. He definitely didn’t seem the least bit interested in me that night. And I tried to talk to him.”
“Well—”
