“Shouldn’t that be saved for your wedding?”
“Nah, it was a gift from Leah. She said we probably needed it now to help fortify ourselves when dealing with her mom.”
“Careful. That’s your future mother-in-law you’re disparaging.”
Kyle snorted as he led the way over to the wet bar near the wall of windows overlooking the river. “Charlotte actually likes me. I think.”
“You think?”
“It’s hard to tell. I wouldn’t want to ever play poker with her, you know?” Kyle pulled out a bottle of whiskey from a distillery Liam was familiar with from how badly it dinged his account when he replenished it in his own home. “She’d clean me out.”
Charlotte Jacqueline Callahan, née Montgomery, was a woman Liam had never wanted to cross, much the same way he never wanted to cross his mum. Georgia, the Countess of Wessex, and Charlotte had met on the charity circuit on both sides of the pond when they were younger. The pair were close friends, and the reason he and Jamie had been introduced to each other as children. But he agreed with Kyle’s assessment—Charlotte was unreadable on the best of days, just like the rest of Liam’s own family, despite the smiles they all wore for the cameras.
Liam took the proffered glass of whiskey and sniffed appreciatively at its contents before swallowing a mouthful. The whiskey burned in the sharp way that cleared his nose and settled his stomach.
“Congratulations on your promotion,” Kyle said as he poured out two more glasses of whiskey.
“Cheers,” Liam replied. The promotion had come at the beginning of the year. While Liam was appreciative of the new rank, part of him believed it had been done for future retirement purposes. Better to end his career as a colonel than a lieutenant colonel in some minds.
“How’s your team?”
The question was innocuous, but it still made Liam grimace. “Not sure how much longer they’ll be my team.”
Kyle glanced at him, his green-eyed gaze steady in a way that was too knowing for Liam’s liking. “Your higher-ups still trying to get you off the field?”
“If by higher-ups you mean the queen, then yes.”
“I told you staying in the field wasn’t going to be easy,” Jamie said as he came down the stairs from the second level in their three-level home.
Liam made a face. “Piss off.”
Jamie shrugged, his smile more apologetic than anything else. “We talked about that, remember? After Alpha Team disbanded.”
“You talked.”
“And you should’ve listened,” Kyle said, staring at Liam pointedly.
Liam would’ve argued, but he’d had experiences arguing with NCOs when they thought they were in the right, and it never turned out well for him. “I’m not ready to retire.”
“You think we were?” Kyle tipped his glass in Jamie’s direction, leaning into the taller man’s embrace once Jamie got within arm’s reach. “We’d still be fighting if Jamie was there to lead us.”
Jamie picked up the last glass of whiskey and took a large sip. “Even if the attack on D.C. hadn’t happened, I don’t know how much longer I could have stayed in the field if my father won the presidency.”
“He did win.”
“Yes, and it’s bad optics for the First Son to be leading clandestine missions on foreign soil. Worse for a prince.”
Liam rolled his eyes. “You’re not saying anything I haven’t heard before.”
“Then maybe you should listen,” Kyle said.
Liam knew they meant well, but it still rankled that he heard the same argument for him to retire from his best mate. “I didn’t fly out here to talk about work.”
“In that case, we can talk about your lack of a plus-one. I thought you were bringing someone?”
“I am fairly certain I only RSVPed for myself. Please tell me I don’t have to partner with a stray guest.”
Kyle shared a look with Jamie, having a whole conversation in the span of seconds. Deep down, Liam was a tad jealous. A part of him wished he had someone in his life the way Jamie had Kyle. They’d literally almost died for each other, and if that wasn’t love, Liam didn’t know what was.
