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He lowered his voice. “I’ll help you relax later.”
She shivered, desire a lazy coil in her belly. Oh, yes, despite everything they’d done to each other last night and today, she wanted more. So much more.
“Miles loved a good Scotch.” Shep was studying his glass.
Against her, Gemma felt Boone stiffen. She pressed a hand to his chest.
“Remember that expensive bottle of…” Shep shook his head. “I can’t remember the name of it. The bottle he wanted when he got engaged.”
Boone’s lips twitched. “I remember. The whole team pitched in to buy it for him. Damn stuff tasted like ash.”
Shep laughed. It was a low, sexy rumble that Gemma guessed he didn’t use very much.
She stayed quiet and listened as they reminisced about their fallen friends.
Shep leaned forward. “Remember the time Julio drank that entire bottle of tequila? He was celebrating when Martina had Eddie.”
“Eddie is Julio’s son,” Boone told Gemma. “He was sad that he missed the birth while we were away on a mission, but he sure made up for it with the enthusiasm of his celebration.”
“Never seen anyone puke so much.” Shep grunted. “He was green the next day on the helo.”
Gemma smiled. She wondered if they let themselves remember their friends—and the good times—very often. “What was Charlie’s drink of choice?”
Shep groaned. “Craft beer. He used to brew his own.”
Boone chuckled. “He was obsessed. Talked about his home-brewingallthe time.”
“Finally, we were all stateside, and he made us try it.” Shep pulled a face.
“He called it Ghost Hops.” Boone started laughing even harder.
“Fuck, I’d forgotten that.” Shep’s deep laugh joined Boone’s.
“It tasted horrible,” Boone told her.
Shep snorted. “It tasted like dirty bath water.”
“It sounds like they were good friends, and lots of fun.”
Boone toyed with her hair. “They were.” There was a ding from Boone’s pocket. “That’s my phone.” He pulled it out and looked at the screen, his brow furrowing. “There’s a message from Vander.”
Gemma couldn’t help but stiffen, her good mood leaking away.
Boone’s face hardened and he met her gaze. “Ace found something on the dark web. He’s sent it through.”
Mouth dry, she reached for the laptop sitting closed on the coffee table. She opened it and peered at the screen. “Oh, God. Apparently, Carruthers is planning an auction very soon.”
A muscle ticked in Boone’s jaw. “Of what?”
“An encrypted satellite targeting system called Flux.”
He frowned. “Okay.”
She kept reading the information, her chest winding tighter. “Boone, Flux is used by countries across the world. Militaries across the world. They use this satellite targeting system for their missiles and drones.”
“Fuck,” Shep muttered.
Boone looked like he’d been hit hard. “So, if someone had their hands on Flux, they could hack our military’s missile strikes, drone missions…?”
