Mack received a text from Cass to meet up and talk later in the afternoon, which worked for him because he was just about to sign off from work on the start of his next ninety-six hours off duty.
The night had been a real bitch, and he looked forward to engine duty again come the new year.
He nodded to the LT and waved to some of guys and gals coming on D shift. Before he could slip out to his car, Tex and Reggie boxed him in.
Crap.
Brad exited close behind them and smiled, looking more like a human shark than a Ken doll. “Well, well. Mr. I Don’t Have Time for My Friends. I think we need to talk.”
Mack groaned. “I’m tired. Maybe later?”
Brad nodded to Tex.
“I got ’im.” He yanked Mack’s bag away and tossed it to Reggie. Then he had Mack over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry—how appropriate—and shoved him inside his truck. “See you at your place,” Tex said before roaring away.
Mack fumbled to get his seat belt on. “Kidnapping’s a crime, asshole.”
“Shut up. We’re worrying about you. Time to talk.”
“I’m saying nothing.” He tried not to be amused, but Tex kept laughing like an evil mastermind and turning up his country music.
By the time they arrived at Brad’s condo, going the long way, Mack would have happily told them everything they wanted to hear if only to save himself from more Kenny Chesney.
“Git on with ya.”
“Easy, Hee Haw. I’m going,” Mack grumbled as he walked up to Brad’s place. He didn’t bother knocking and entered with an attitude. Better to be on the offensive because when he told them what they actually didn’t want to hear and they acted all offended, he could insist on doing what was surely for their own good.
The open floor plan of Brad’s place meant the living room to the right and dining area just ahead gave Brad plenty of space for parties. The kitchen, sectioned off by a few overhead cabinets and a counter behind the dining area, showed Brad and Reggie getting out chips, dip, and some drinks.
So not a total waste of Mack’s time then.
He sighed. Loudly. “I’m tired. Can we please get this over with? Whose feelings did I hurt? And can I just say right now, I’m sorry?”
Brad and Reggie came out with the food and drinks and plopped them on the dining table, where the guys used to have poker games.
Mack felt a pang of wistfulness but suppressed it. “I’ll have a cream soda.” At Reggie’s look, he sullenly added, “Please.”
“That’s better.” Reggie set it in front of him, doling out the other drinks before taking a seat himself. The one nearest the door.
Meaning Mack would have to go through Reggie to leave. A not-so-subtle threat.
Tex and Brad sat as well, and Brad—of course it would have to be Brad leading this feel-good meeting—said, “We’ve been talking. All of us. The girls too.”
Mack refused to acknowledge the heat crawling over his cheeks. Instead, he took a big sip of soda. And sneezed when he felt bubbles coming out of his nose.
Tex just shook his head, trying to hide a grin.
“We all realize how you feel.”
“I don’t think you do.”
Reggie sighed. “Mack, please. Before Maggie and Emily, I felt the same way. Odd man out. Always the third wheel. Wondering when we could just have guy time without all the girls around.”
Mack hadn’t thought Reggie would ever admit that aloud to the guys. “Oh?”
“Yeah, oh.” Reggie gave him a dark look. “Stop being a pussy and tell us the truth. Are you avoiding us because we’re all coupled up and you aren’t?”
“Or because you don’t think your new squeeze will stand up to the rest of us?” Tex asked. “Because we ain’t blind. We know you have a thing with the monster soccer gal.”
