“Just hear me out, fuckheads,” Mason said. “I was thinking maybe the reason LT hasn’t called Olivia is because that thing they had in Syria was just some sort of foxholeInLoveandWarbullshit. Nothing real. Then again, that wouldn’t explain the look on his face this morning.”
“It was real,” Bran gritted out.
“You say that like you’re sure,” Wolf said. “He said something to you?”
“Yeah, sure.” Bran nodded, gifting Wolf with the facial equivalent ofHaveyoulostyourever-loving mind?“He told me right after we exchanged manicure secrets, shared skin-care advice, and listed all our favorite Britney Spears songs.”
Wolf simply sat there in thatWolfway of his. Totally still. Totally enigmatic. To date, Bran had yet to find what it took to ruffle Wolf’s feathers. So, he was left with no recourse but to relent. “I mean seriously, dude. Can you imagine Leo ‘the Lion’ Anderson admitting he’s in a state of serious forlorn yearning for a cute, raven-haired spook?”Pigswillfly, hell will freeze over, and Sicily will elect an incorruptible government. “No. He hasn’t said a damn thing. And the truth is, at first I thought the reason he was walking around with a hangdog expression on his face like he’d been kicked in the apple bag was because of what happened back there.”
Wolf shot him a look, one brow arched, one corner of his mouth quirked. “Like he’d been kicked in the apple bag?”
“What?” Bran grinned, spreading his arms wide. “You know me.The master of motherfucking tact.”
“Unquestionably.”
“But I’ve known the guy for over fifteen years now,” he continued, unperturbed by Wolf’s quick agreement. “I’ve known him to lose men and soldier on.” Wolf opened his mouth to argue, but Bran raised a hand, cutting him off. “I know; I know. Rusty was different. One ofus.”
And by “us” he meant the original eight-man team they’d put together right out of SEAL training. The Crazy Eight. The Eight Amigos. The motherfriggin’ Great Eight. One of whom was in the grave. One of whom, Michael “Mad Dog” Wainwright, had returned home to Atlantic City to build ships in his family’s shipyard and make babies with the saucy redheaded diplomatic secretary they had saved from a bombed-out embassy in Pakistan during their final mission for the Navy. And six of whom—them—were living and working in the Keys, hoping like hell to find a better way of life than the one they’d left behind.
“But my point is that no matter what kinda shitstorm he’s weathered, no matter how many good men he’s loaded into flag-draped coffins for transport back home,” he continued, “LT has never once sworn off the ladies. Not until Syria. Not until Olivia. So yeah, it’s real. Now whether ‘real’ means unrequitedlustor ‘real’ means unrequitedloveis anybody’s guess.”
He hoped to hell it was the first. Because there was no way Leo and Olivia could make it work in the long run. The huge list of divorced spec-ops guys and spies he knew assured him of that fact. Tradecraft and civilian life just didn’t mix. And Bran sure as shit didn’t want to have to stand by and watch while his best friend got his heart broken.
“So maybe we just need to make sure we give Olivia and LT some alone time,” Wolf speculated. “Maybe after she’s waxed his ax a few times, he’ll realize one…um… What is it you Jersey boys call it?” he asked.
“Chucky.” Bran smiled despite himself, remembering the conversation he’d had with Wolf their very first night on Wayfarer Island when he’d explained the origins of that particular piece of slang.
“Right.” Wolf nodded. “Maybe then he’ll stop pining and realize onechuckyis as good as the next.”
“That’s possible,” Bran mused. Though he had some doubts. He’d never seen Leo look at another woman the way he looked at Olivia, his eyes chockablock full of heat and hormones and…something else. It was the “something else” that made Bran twitchy. “And since we’re on the subject of ax waxing and one chucky being as good as the next”—he turned his attention to Mason—“when willyouget back on that horse and ride, eh?”
Mason shot him a look meant to shrivel his balls. “Who the fuck says I haven’t?”
“Me,” Bran declared.
“And me,” Wolf added.
“It’s complicated,” Mason insisted, his expression about as friendly as a jar full of scorpions, which was pretty much SOP—standard operating procedure—whenever they dared bring up the subject of his philandering ex-wife. Bran had never hated a woman in his life. But he hated the former Mrs. Mason McCarthy with the fiery heat of a thousand suns.Nogoodputtana.
“What it is, iswaypast time,” Wolf was quick to insist. “Besides, it can’t be healthy. How many years has it been now? Six?”
“I thought it was seven,” Bran added helpfully.
“You can both immediately and rigorously go fuck yourselves; it’s only been five. And I got your healthy right here.” Mason flexed one arm, his massive bicep rolling into a hard sphere that looked about the size of a bowling ball.
“Have you ever noticed,” Bran mused, grinning evilly, “that guys who work out and get super beefy are generally trying to overcompensate for embarrassingly tiny sex organs?”
“Ihavenoticed that.” Wolf played along, nodding sagely.
“Puh-lease,” Mason snorted. “You could lay both your dicks end-to-end and they still wouldn’t compare to the hog I have packed in my pants. And why did this get turned around on me, anyway? Weren’t we talking about LT and Olivia?”
“Speak of the devil and she will appear,” Wolf muttered softly. Then he raised his voice. “Come on in, Agent Mortier.”
Bran spun in his seat to see Olivia standing in the doorway. And he could totally understand why Leo dug her. On the one hand, she was lean and mean, an honest-to-God government fighting machine. On the other hand, she was soft and pretty, a woman in her prime. And that combination was incredibly dynamic. Andveryhard to resist. Especially for guys like them who could appreciate more than most a woman with a backbone forged of white-hot alloyed steel.
“Am I interrupting?” she asked, her smoky voice rougher than usual. And from the shuttered look on her face Bran wasn’t sure how much of the conversation she’d heard.
Hopefullynone. Because Leo would skin them alive if he knew they were talking about his currently nonexistent sex life. But if he knew Olivia had overhead as well?GoodGod, a mere skinning would seem like child’s play compared to what Leo would do to them. Bran imagined it would be something rather foul and undoubtedly painful involving theircoglioni.
