Oren gave him a brief smile, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes.“Hey.”
Ty didn’t let it go right away.He gave Oren’s wrist a gentle squeeze, holding his gaze.“You say you’re okay, but I don’t think you are.What’s up?”he asked, voice low, just for them.
Oren hesitated, then nodded once.“I’m fine physically, I promise you.I do need to talk to you both about something, but I’d like to do it later.After dinner.”He glanced at Dale.“I know you noticed something, too.”
“Yeah,” Dale admitted, voice soft.“You looked a little stressed.I figured you’d talk when you were ready.”
Ty’s brow furrowed, not ready to let it go.“But you will talk to us about it after dinner?”
Oren reached out, took Ty’s hand, and gave it a light squeeze.“Yeah, I promise.Right now, I just want to enjoy being here.With the two of you.”He leaned in and pressed a kiss to Ty’s cheek, lingering for a moment.
Ty held his eyes a beat longer, then leaned in, brushing a kiss to Oren’s temple before turning to Dale.He crossed the space and planted a firm kiss on his mouth, grinning at the flare of heat in the other man’s eyes.
“Dinner smells amazing.”
“Tastes even better,” Dale said.“Now sit.Salad’s on the table.Pasta will be ready in two.”
They ate around the coffee table in the living space again, the fire crackling in front of them.Oren sat on the floor with his back to the hearth, Dale on the couch, Ty sprawled in the armchair.It was domestic and warm, and for a few minutes they just talked—about work, about some idiot who’d clogged the showers with sand at the gym, about the things that happened in their day.It was normal, and it was nice.
But Ty noticed the way Dale kept going quiet for short spells, and the way Oren kept not meeting his eyes.They were both hanging on to something.
Just as he was about to ask what the hell was going on, Dale set his fork down and cleared his throat.“We need to talk about this morning.”
Ty sat up a little straighter.
“Marsh and Bateman flagged something.Drones—small fast ones.Picked up on surveillance loops over the last few weeks.It’s not random.They think that there is someone tracking one of us or someone here.”
Ty’s mind instantly went to Oren.His gut tightened.If someone was coming after him, they were already too close.But that was ridiculous.He and Oren had only been on the Ridge for about a month and a half.They had nothing to do with the missions the Pathfinders had been on in the past.Well, except for what happened with the Colonel who came looking for Eli.
“Could it be tied to Eli?”he asked.“Some old loose end?”
Dale shook his head.“Marsh doesn’t think so.Said he’d tied everything off clean after the Colonel died.He’s thorough, and when it comes to Eli, that man would leave nothing to chance.”Ty appreciated that, because he felt the same way about Dale and Oren.“This feels different.Closer.More ...intentional, and not overly military.”
Oren frowned, curiosity overtaking whatever was taking his focus before.“What does that mean—not overly military?”
Dale shifted, crossing his arms.“The drones we’re picking up, they’re not military-grade.They’re more commercial—off-the-shelf types with standard software.Not something a state-run or, hell, even an independently run op would use.It’s almost like someone’s trying not to draw attention but still wants eyes on us.”
Ty’s brow furrowed deeper.“So, what, we tighten up?”he said, rubbing the back of his neck.“Internal checks.Patrol rotations.Use our own people only.Keep the outside contractors to daylight hours.”
“And comb through all security logs,” Oren added.“See if we’ve got any other anomalies—missing equipment, unscheduled entries.”
Ty nodded.“We need to keep everyone safe.Especially those who might be targets.”
They spent the next several minutes diving deep into tactical contingencies—where they could reinforce patrol routes, which blind spots in their current surveillance setup needed plugging, and how best to reassign security detail without raising panic.Ty tossed out ideas about staggered patrols and night shift rotations.Oren suggested a sweep of access logs and equipment inventories.Dale, more familiar with site logistics, offered to liaise with Marsh and Bateman to set up tighter checkpoints.The three of them leaned into the conversation with an ease born of shared experience and mutual trust, their voices lifting with purpose.This was their language.This they could do.
“I do have to tell you this as well,” Dale said with a huff of laughter, his smirk curling with amusement.“Bateman’s been giving me grief—real curious about the three of us.He said I look like a man that’s caught feelings.”
“Have you?”Oren asked, eyes intense.
“Caught feelings?”Dale asked, never dropping his gaze, just shifting between Oren and him.“Damn straight I have, and not ashamed to tell them.Just wish I had thought of something smart to fling back at the smug bastard.”
Ty chuckled.“Next time you see him, tell him that we’re still hashing out the logistics of who gets the middle spoon—it’s a critical position, after all.”
Dale’s grin widened.“That is fucking gold.I’ll tell him that I plan to take it on Thursdays.”
Oren laughed then, head tipping back, and Ty’s heart squeezed.God, he loved that sound.
Somehow, plates forgotten, the fire burning low, they ended up tangled on the rug.Oren leaned back against Ty’s chest, Dale on his side, one hand tracing lazy patterns on Oren’s knee.Kisses came slowly—first between Dale and Ty, then Dale and Oren, and finally Ty pulling Oren up to meet his mouth.
