“But… you don’t even date.”
“You don’t know what I do.”
She did, but I wouldn’t admit she was right. The look she gave me told me she didn’t need the confirmation.
“A Marine? What division? What’s his MOS? Who’s his commanding officer?”
I turned to him, and he had his cell phone in hand, his thumb flying up the screen. What the hell?
“Okay, Colonel Holt, USMC, retired, put the phone away,” I joked. Surely, he wasn’t texting one of his buddies.
He did not put the phone away. Instead, he looked at me as if I’d lost my mind.
“Declan, do you know anything about this guy? Does he know who our family is? What kinda assignments you’re a part of now? What sort of missions you’ve done with Holt?”
Was he in fucking sane? As if I’d tell anyone sensitive information about anything.
Instead of poking the bear, I opted to lighten the mode and joked, “Aww. You do love me.”
“Declan!”
“Damn. I knew you were a worrier, but this is excessive, even for you.”
“Goddammit, kid!” he screamed, shoving his hands into his hair. “He could be a spy. He could be a gold digger. How do you know he’s even a fucking Marine?”
“Umm, okay. Now, I know you’re losing it. How about you gimme some credit? Oh, and I’m not a fucking kid.”
You could cut steel with the look in his eyes as he said, “I’ll give you some credit when I don’t get reports from the team in Vegas that you’re wandering the streets drunk off your ass.”
“First, I wasn’t fucking drunk. At least not that drunk. The entire club got roofied!” I yelled. Then what he said dawned. “Wait a minute. You had me followed?”
“You’re damn right I had you followed. I don’t know what’s going on with you. First the mess with the Cagot girl, and now this.”
“Fuck you, Walker. But lemme ease your mind. I know he’s a Marine because he lives on base, and before you ask, yes, I’m sure. I’ve been to his apartment. I’ve seen him in uniform. I’ve met some of his buddies. He’s a fucking Marine. And I’d never give away sensitive info. Never. But if there’s a threat that has you this ramped up, I need to know about it, not be protected from it.”
He sighed, shoving his hands through his hair several times as he paced away from me, only to turn back. He was a trained sniper. He’d help train me to be one. He didn’t get frazzled easily.
“It’s not like you to be reckless.”
He’d lost some of the aggression and animosity, but now I was pissed.
“And it’s not like you to be such an asshole. Guess we’re both set on disappointing people today.”
I grabbed my suitcase and headed to the bedroom, shutting the door behind me and falling back against it. Trying to come to some… something about why he was being such a dick.
Walker and I had always been close. He and his dad butted heads regularly, and he was my dad’s favorite nephew, so he’d been around our place a lot when I was a kid. He’d shocked the family by joining the Marines. We were Navy people. Then, he nearly died on a mission, and he came home to the ranch to recover. He and I got close again. When he started Holt, I moved from the private military unit to his security company to help him out.
We’d worked our asses off together to make the company what it is. He’d tried several times to give me part ownership. I always refused. I didn’t want it. Then he’d offered me a position in upper management. When I refused that as well, he made me a team leader and told me to shut my trap when I said I didn’t want it.
Now I regretted my decision. Maybe he wasn’t asking for me but for himself because he was stretched thin. He had a wife and kids, and I knew he and his son, Jackson, had been butting heads lately. Jackson’s refusal to join the family business hadn’t gone over well. He’d chosen to risk his ass racing motorcycles instead. Not that I could say anything. I’d been the same way his age. Just exchange motorcycles for broncs and bulls.
My phone buzzed. Groaning, I pulled it from my pocket, but the frustration drained away.
“Missed me already, huh?”
Something between a laugh and a groan came through the line.
“What’s the matter, Papi?”
