“Long.”
Austin slumped a little, leaning over the drink he’d been nursing. “When I was seventeen, my mother was murdered.”
I gasped, my hand flying to my mouth. “Oh my God. I’m so sorry.”
He turned his head, giving me a sad smile. “Thanks. It feels like a lifetime ago, but every time I close my eyes, I see it.”
“See it?” I asked, concerned and confused by the dark change to his demeanor. I felt guilty now for asking him about his past, wanting to keep the focus away from me. “We don’t have to talk about this. We can talk about something else.”
“It’s fine. It doesn’t hurt talking about it anymore.”
I placed my hand on his arm, giving him a light squeeze. “I’m so sorry.”
“Men were after my father and murdered my mother to get to him. After that, I was sent to live with my older brother in Florida, and the rest is history.”
“Wait…” I placed the glass I was about to take a sip from on the bar, giving Austin my undivided attention. “You just said a whole lot in only a few words. I need a minute here to digest everything.”
“I’ve had years, and I barely believe it either.” He took a sip of his drink, staring behind the bar, his face unreadable.
“And your brother?” I asked, still reeling.
Austin turned to me, a small smile on his lips. “He’s a good guy. Took me in after we hadn’t seen each other for a decade. He put a roof over my head, fed me, and put up with my bullshit long enough for me to graduate and enlist. Do you have any siblings?”
I nodded, wondering if I would’ve been able to raise Cullen if something happened to our parents. “A little brother. He’s a complete pain in the ass.”
“It’s our job to be a pain in the ass.”
An uneasy silence suddenly developed between us. I was rarely at a loss for words, but as I sat next to Austin and he told me some heavy things, I felt the weight of those words and his life experiences. “Blondie calls me G.I. Junior because my parents are kind of kick-ass.”
Austin’s blue eyes sparkled. “Kind of?”
I shrug. “I don’t usually talk about them, but since you…” I let my voice drift off, because I didn’t want to recount what he just stated. I gazed down at my drink, hand gripping the glass tight. “My dad works for a security company. A completely kick-ass company and he’s totally badass.” I chuckled, swinging my eyes to Austin. “But I’ll never admit that to his face.”
My words were a lie of omission. By calling my father a security agent, I downplayed most of his career. He was so much more, but I wasn’t ready or willing to share all the details of his life with Austin, a navy man himself.
Being a SEAL was a big fucking deal, especially to people who were in the military. I didn’t want to be barraged with a million questions about my badass dad and his fighting days.
Austin laughed, lifting his drink to his lips as he turned his body toward me. “And your mom?”
I sighed. “She was CIA,” I blurted just as Austin was swallowing a mouthful of Jack.
He choked, eyes watering as he struggled to get the whiskey down his throat and catch his breath. “CIA?” he asked between coughs.
I nodded. “I have some big shoes to fill.”
“Wait, like, did she have a desk job at the CIA?”
I pursed my lips, rolling my eyes. “She did not push papers all day. She was an agent in the field.”
“So.” He coughed again, covering his mouth, and paused for a second. His eyes were glued to mine. “Your dad is a badass security guy, and your mom worked for the CIA. Are you shitting me right now?”
I waved my hand at him, rolling my eyes. “Well, no, I’m not shitting you.”
Why was I so willing to tell my mom’s past but not my father’s? CIA is impressive—hell, people dream of being an undercover agent, assuming the life is glamorous when, in fact…it’s not. Maybe it was because I was talking about my mom, who wasn’t some damsel in distress in need of rescuing. There wasn’t a better role model for me than a mom who could bust heads.
He laughed, his perfect white teeth gleaming. “We could not have come from two different worlds.”
“But here we are, same place, same time, same life.” I smiled, liking the way he looked at me when I spoke.
