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Not that the Jay-man would be staying with them. Before he disappeared, the guy bought the town’s long-abandoned airport. And by airport, he meant a vintage WWII hangar and a couple miles of weathered runways slowly crumbling back into dust. There was plenty of land there to add a house, if Jason wanted.
He sighed heavily. Thinking about Jason only made him think about the man’s gorgeous sister again. His business or not, he couldn’t shake off the weird feeling of Jane lying to him outside the bank.
Impatient with his thoughts, he stalked into the ranch house, jaw clenched. The door slammed behind him.
Tai’s browfurrowed as he looked up from the tablet in his hands. “What happened, was Jane out of number ten screws? I know how you hate using those smaller ones.” He teased.
Bridger held up the bag of screws before heading straight for the kitchen sink. “I got the screws.” He poured a glass of water, ducking Tai’s assessing gaze. “Where is everyone? I thought we were gonna talk about outfitting the big barn.”
Tai set the tablet down slowly, folding his arms across his chest. “Who stole your sunshine today?”
Bridger scowled, his fingers curling into fists. “I just want to get things up and running. What if we get another case? I want us to be fully geared up.”
Tai stood, stepping in front of Bridger. “Seriously. What happened to you? Get run over by a stampede on your way back from town?”
Kind of.
Tai didn’t have his abilities to read body language, but the man knew him better than anyone. Unfortunately. And the big Islander matched him for tenacity. Tai wouldn’t give up until Bridger spilled his guts.
Which he had no intention of doing. Game on.
Tai retreated back behind the table, but the look he threw Bridger promised further interrogation.
Whatever.
“Rest of the crew’s on their way in to sketch out a plan for the barn. You might wanna check the attitude.” Tai warned him.
Bridger steeled himself as the team assembled in the ranch’s great room. Their main pilot, Kate Hackett, tall and willowy with long brown hair, leaned against the fireplace mantel, arms crossed, her deep brown eyes betraying a hint of impatience. Fenn Scarborough, the best spy Bridger had ever seen, lounged on the couch, toying with a deck of cards, a smirk playing on his exceedingly handsome face. The air between the two crackled with tension.
Like always.
“Come on, Scar, you can’t honestly expect me to believe that,” Kate said, shaking her head.
“Believe what?” Bridger asked, more to distract himself than anything else. These two were like puppies, biting and snarling and nipping each other twenty-four seven.
“Scarborough here thinks he can talk his way out of any situation,” Kate said, rolling her eyes. “Anytime. Anywhere.”
Fenn feigned chagrin. “It’s a gift.”
“More like a curse,” Paige Penderson their scarily-talented hacker, chimed in from her spot on the floor, surrounded by not one, but three cutting edge laptops.
“I think we need to move the armory to the outer barn,” Mason Ortiz, their security expert said, his quiet voice cutting through the chatter. “The workout area Fenn sketched out in the big barn isn’t big enough. Tai and I are gonna be banging elbows when we’re lifting.”
“Or the two of you could, you know, dial down the intensity,” Fenn said, his eyes glittering with mischief.
Tai and Mason looked horrified.
Kate rolled her eyes. “Laziness. Just one of your many weaknesses.”
Fenn waggled his eyebrows. “Just as long as you’re counting.”
Kate shot him a look that should have sent the man up in flames, but he refused to stop grinning.
Paige brandished her laptop like a weapon. “I’ve got the exact measurements right here.” She grabbed a remote from the table in front of her, switching on the big-screen monitor mounted on the far wall. “We can try out whatever layouts you want.”
She quickly populated a blank schematic with line drawings including a vast workout area, secured armory, and room for helicopter storage alongside a fully-outfitted mechanic’s station. The discussion shifted to the design, each teammate adding their two cents. All of which made sense to Bridger.
Every one of them had anted up big chunks of their multi-million-dollar payouts to make sure their new venture had the best of the best in tech and equipment. The tension drained from Bridger’s shoulders. They were made for this work. Less than an hour later, they had a working blueprint.
