“It’s my job to do the saving, Finn.”
“Bullshit.” He squeezed me tighter against him. “We’re a team. We protect each other.”
“Knock, knock.” Duncan cracked the door open. “Are you decent?”
“It’s my office. Why wouldn’t we be decent?”
“Sound carries in this office. I’ll just leave it at that and wait right here with my eyes closed until I get the answer.”
I couldn’t even find it in myself to be embarrassed. It was hot; the way Finn took me on my desk. Most definitely a repeat-worthy performance, though maybe after-hours next time so no one would hear.
“We’re good. You can come in.”
Duncan entered; his focus directed on the man whose lap I was still seated on.
He didn’t mince words when he said, “You’ve had your few minutes, now I’d like mine.”
Finn stood us both up, touched his lips to my forehead then walked away. He didn’t make it to the door. Instead, he veered off course to go toe to toe with Duncan. He was the only man who could, since they both towered over the majority of the population at a cool six foot six. There were other similarities between them besides height. Their integrity for one, and their innate protective instincts foranother; however, my second-in-command was built like a brick shithouse. Thankfully, he looked more amused than annoyed.
“Don’t upset her.”
“I don’t intend to.”
That must’ve been good enough for Finn. He glanced over his shoulder, giving me one last once-over, then took his leave. Duncan made himself comfortable in one of the chairs, crossing an ankle over the opposite knee. I closed the distance, lifting myself up to sit on the edge of my desk.
“I was an asshole, Way.”
“You were. You were also right.”
“Still, calling you out in front of the team––”
“Was a dick move, but it’s not like I gave you a choice.”
We had a strict no bullshit policy in our friendship, which translated to our work relationship as well. In my eyes, being the RAC was simply a title. We shared the day-to-day responsibilities of running the office, which included pointing out when the other was being difficult. It’s the reason we worked so well together.
“We can figure something else out.”
“I want this to be over, Duncan. We need to go on the offensive.”
“You sure?”
“Not at all, but I also don’t want to live my life waiting for the other shoe to drop.”
He exhaled loudly. “Okay.” When he didn’t immediately move to leave, I knew there was something else on his mind.
“Spit it out.”
“Love looks good on you. It’s nice to see you’ve finally realized you deserve to be happy.”
“Your dayis coming, Duncan. When it does, I’ll remind you of the same.”
“Nah. That ship has already sunk.”
He was tight-lipped about his past, partly due to its classified nature, partly because of the pain those memories caused. A few years ago, after one too many shots of whiskey, his lips loosened enough to tell me he’d met and lost the love of his life. I never pushed him about the details, figuring he’d tell me when he was ready. Maybe that was the wrong decision. It was glaringly obvious he hadn’t moved on.
“Then find a new boat.”
His hearty laugh filled the air. Not the funny, ha-ha kind. No, this had a twinge of defeat laced in the tone. It made me sad and pissed me off in the same breath. Duncan had a huge heart, even if it was meticulously hidden underneath his surly exterior.
