Our beers arrive and I pick mine up, gesturing with my chin in the direction of our eldest brother as another of his law enforcement colleagues gets up to toast his promotion. “Shane’s never looked happier. Leave it to him to make Commander by the time he turned forty-two. Dad must be pleased as hell about that.”
Jake glances that way and nods. “You have no idea. Mom is too. They’re hosting a cookout for Shane and Lisa and the kids at the house next weekend. I think Mom invited the whole damn neighborhood.”
“I wouldn’t expect anything less.”
“You’re going to be there, right?”
I shrug and take a drink of my beer. “Depends on work, I guess. And other things.”
He grunts. “Work and other things. I swear, brother, sometimes you’re as elusive as that ‘shadow mogul’ billionaire you work for. Looks like you’ve even got the wardrobe.”
Because the jab is good-natured and not unanticipated, I let it roll off me. I also let the tabloid-inspired nickname for Dominic Baine go without comment. Nick’s reputation as a reclusive genius and ruthless corporate raider isn’t totally unwarranted, but the fact is he’s changed now that Avery Ross is in his life. No one who knows him would say he’s been tamed or mellowed, but there is a peace about him that hadn’t been there when I first met the man a little over a year ago.
His other, more private reputation—the darker one whispered about away from mainstream news headlines and business profiles—is a topic best kept between him and his fiancée.
God knows, I don’t have any room to judge when itcomes to someone else’s personal kinks.
“I can’t stay long,” I murmur, eyeing Jake over the rim of my glass. “I should head over and give Shane my congrats, then get out of here.”
Jake lets out a low whistle. “Two minutes inside the door and you’re already angling for the fastest way to make your escape. That’s got to be some kind of record.”
He’s right, and I’m not going to deny it. “I came because I had to. For Shane. For Mom. Hell, even for myself. I know what this promotion means to our brother.”
“And to Dad,” Jake says, slanting a sober look on me. “He wants the best for all of his sons. He wants to see all of us succeed.”
I scoff into my glass. “Some more than others.”
I sound bitter, but damn if I can help it. Things have never been good between me and my father, but over the past couple of years, our disagreements and apparent dislike for each other has expanded into a bona fide estrangement.
My gaze strays into the pub, spotting the old man. He’s seated at the table next to Shane, his meaty hand wrapped around the same mug of beer he’s been holding since I arrived. He’s beaming under the praise being heaped on his eldest son, chuckling at every joke, grinning as the revelry and celebration continues. From all appearances, having the time of his fucking life.
He’s grown a short beard since I saw him last. Most of the whiskers have come in gray instead of the coppery hue of his thinning hair. And the beard doesn’t quite disguise the leanness of his face, the thin, aging sag of his jowls.
“He’s losing weight,” I remark, swiveling back around to face the bar.
“You think so?” Jake frowns, throwing a quick glance in Dad’s direction before looking at me again. “I guess you’d see it before any of us, considering how long it’s been since you’ve been home.” He winces as soon as the words leave his mouth. “Shit. That came out wrong. I don’t mean anything by it, Gabe.”
I shake my head and polish off the rest of my beer. “Don’t worry about it. You’re right, it’s been too long. I should make a point to come around more—for Mom, if nothing else.”
“She’d like that. I think he would, too, even if he doesn’t say it.” Jake fists his hand and knocks his knuckles into my arm. “Anyway, fuck the family drama hour. Tell me how things are going for you in the city. You doing anything interesting for Baine, or is it just a lot of standing around in pricey suits and sunglasses pretending to look useful?”
I laugh, because for the most part, he’s got it nailed. And I can’t deny that I’m getting to the point where I’m craving something more. “You sound jealous, bro.”
He blows out a chuckle. “Yeah, maybe a little. Do you have any idea how much ass I’d be getting if I could say I was working for Dominic Baine?”
“I must’ve missed that item in the benefits package,” I tell him with a smirk.
“Maybe you weren’t looking hard enough.” Jake’s never been shy about his voracious appetite for women. He grins, but he’s studying me now. “You know, it’s going on four years since you and Tracy broke up. You’re not getting any younger. Not getting any better looking, either.”
“What are you trying to say?”
He shrugs, takes a swig of beer. “You need to get back out there sometime. Get back on the horse, so to speak.”
“Dating advice from you?” I exhale a wry curse. “That’s about as helpful as it was coming from Dad back when I was thirteen.”
But Jake doesn’t seem ready to let the subject go. He faces me full-on, his brown eyes careful, yet probing. “I know things haven’t been easy for you since you came home. All the surgeries, the year-plus of rehab. I’m not going to act like I can relate to anything you’ve gone through, but don’t think I won’t be here to kick your ass if I think you need it.”
I feel my jaw tense up at the reminder of my injury. Not that I need reminders. There are times I still wake up thinking my body’s intact. Other times, I dream I’m hobbling over the scorched and bloodied dirt road where my unit’s Humvee hit that IED, trying to retrieve the chunks of muscle and bone that had once been the lower portion of my left leg.
