She wasn’t sure what came over her then. And later she’d want to kick her own ass for the words that tumbled out of her mouth. But blame it on grief or guilt or stress or…freaking PTSD, but in that moment she didn’t give a rat’s ass about continuing to disguise her feelings. “That’s all you’ll allow us to be. Right, Fish? So friends it is.”
For the span of a few thundering heartbeats he stood there silently, his gaze searching hers. Then he said the most beautiful and heartbreaking words she’d ever heard. “I love ya too much not to love ya enough, Liza.”
19
Britt had seen Eliza walk by the television room headed for her bedroom nearly an hour earlier. He’d expected Fisher to find his way upstairs and had been all prepared to give his best friend a hard time for, you know, being all twitterpated and smitten. Annoyingly, though, Fisher had remained glaringly absent.
Since Britt couldn’t stand to see his good material go to waste, he made his way downstairs in search of his quarry.
Should I start with a joke about how he can’t stop staring at Eliza like she is an angel fallen straight from heaven? Or should I lead in by teasing him about how he’d been like a teenager debating whether he should throw his arm around his date at the movie theater when Eliza had started to break down in front of the feds last night?
The latter, he decided when he landed on the second floor and glanced expectantly around The War Room.
A forgotten mug sat on the conference table, its contents having gone cold hours before. Screen savers dipped and swirled on the various monitors, giving the space a club vibe—all that was missing was theootz-ootzsound of a DJ spinning tracks and people waving around glow sticks. Peanut was curled in the cushioned rolling chair Ozzie preferred when he was balls-deep in the dark web. But…no Fisher.
On to the shop.
Britt made his way down to the first floor. Someone had switched off the large overhead lights. So it was only the ambient glow from upstairs that allowed him to see the row of custom choppers and the dull glint of the bike lifts topped with motorcycles in varying degrees of completion. Again…no Fisher.
Which meant his brother-from-another-mother was likely either in the outbuilding that held their gym equipment or in the kitchen making a mess of something that, to most, would seem impossible to screw up.
His nose told him it was the latter. He followed the acrid smell of smoke.
Stopping in the kitchen doorway, he saw Fisher standing over the sink. The former Delta Force Sergeant Major’s hands were braced on the counter on either side of the deep bowl and his head hung between his broad shoulders in defeat.
“Why are you cooking when Eliza spent all day baking?” he asked as he made his way around the kitchen island. Once he stopped beside Fisher, he glanced down into the bottom of the sink at what looked to be a charbroiled football. Shaking his head, he sighed sadly. “Aw, man. You’re the reason we can’t have nice things.”
Fisher’s expression was miserable. “In my defense, I was left unsupervised.”
Chuckling, Britt clapped a hand on Fisher’s shoulder. “Well, then it’s Eliza’s fault for thinking just because you can install a V-twin engine, disassemble your primary weapon with your eyes closed, and recon a target space with a precision that still boggles my mind that you’d be able to accurately utilize the trickiest of manmade machines. That thing known as an oven.”
“I did everything I was supposed to do.” Fish gestured to the smoldering lump of blackened bread. “I don’t get it.” Glancing at Britt, he pulled a face. “She’ll never let me hear the end of it if she finds it in the trash tomorrow. Reckon I better go throw it over the back wall and let the geese in the river have at it.”
Britt picked up a fork and tapped the burned loaf. It was as hard as a rock and made a strangely hollow sound against the tines.
“That’s a terrible idea. Instead of finding a blackened loaf of bread in the trash, she’ll find a bunch of dead geese.”
“Oh, ha ha.” Fish snatched the fork from him. “It’s not that bad. And surely it’ll soften up once it’s in the river.” He tried stabbing the loaf but the fork just bounced off. Fish immediately changed his tune. “Maybe you’re right. So then what do ya reckon I should do with it?”
“Send it into space where it can join the other objects orbiting Neptune in the Kuiper Belt.”
Fisher scowled. “Is everything a joke to ya?”
“Only the funny stuff.” Britt grinned. Then he forced a serious expression because Fish really did look wretched. “Maybe if we put it in the little garden by the back wall it’ll blend in with the other landscape rocks and no one will be the wiser.”
“Won’t it start to rot and give itself away?”
“It’s already been petrified. I think that means it’s safe from rot.”
Fisher cocked his head as if he saw the merit in the suggestion.
Britt used his best friend’s distraction to get in his first dig. “While you think on that, how’s about you tell me what’s going on between you and Eliza. Because I swear, every time I’ve looked at you today, I’ve seen little hearts and flowers floating above your head. And I can’t help wondering if the reason she wasn’t quick to take McClean up on his proposal was because she’s carrying a torch for you.”
Fisher turned around so he could lean back against the countertop. “I had nothing to do with that last part. As for the hearts and flowers? Either you’ve been hallucinatin’ or you’re in desperate need of a trip to the optometrist. YaknowI’m allergic to romantic relationships.”
“There’s a first time for everything.”
He closely watched his friend’s face, expecting Fisher to continue to play it off. He was a little taken aback when, instead, Fish shook his head. “She’s too good for me.”
