“I can only imagine, especially if he's anything like his dad.”
Trent was halfway across the bridge. One of the gators—Dolly, probably—let out a low bellow that vibrated through the humid air. Dove watched him pause, turn toward the sound, and say something too quiet for her to hear. The bellowing stopped.
“I just want an hour of his time,” her uncle said.
"I'll talk to him.”
“Before you go, I want to ask you something.”
“I’m afraid to hear this,” Dove said.
“Is there something going on between you and Trent?”
Dove resented that she wished there were something real between her and Trent. It was rare for her to care this much for a man. It wasn’t that she didn’t have relationships. She just didn’t do ones that lasted. Ones that required anything other than having a good time, and when they ended, it was no big deal because she hadn’t put down roots. The Army moved her from one location to the next, and she’d welcomed the change.
Generally, the Aegis Network kept its operatives in one location, unless a request was made or a new office was opening. This was the first time since high school that she had her feet firmly planted in the ground.
But Trent was supposed to be a fling. When things had started to go sideways even before he’d been shot saving his childhood friend, Fallon, from the assholes who were trying to kidnap and kill her, Dove had to admit, it stung. It still stung. “We’re friends.”
“Is that all you are?”
“Yes.” And, in that moment, it was the truth. Didn’t matter that they struggled to keep their boundaries intact because they couldn't keep their hands to themselves. “I’ve got to go.”
“I guess that means I’ll see you shortly.”
Shit. “Probably not.”
“Right. That’s what I thought,” he said. “For the record, I’m glad you found someone. And if Trent is anything like his father, he’s the kind of man I might approve of.”
The line went dead before she could respond. Not that she even knew what to say.
Dove stared at her phone for a long moment. Her uncle had always understood her better than anyone—including her parents. Her mom didn’t know how to handle a tomboy. Not that her mother didn’t love her—she did. But she’d wanted a daughter she could dress up and take to the country club for mother-daughter brunches and fashion shows. That wasn’t Dove.
And her dad, well, he hadn’t wanted her in the Army. He hadn’t wanted that kind of hard life for his only girl. He’d lived it. Spent eight years in the Army. To him, it was utter hell, nothing more than a means to an end. He got an education and served his time, plus a little extra.
The screen door creaked open, and Trent slipped out of his water-soaked boots before stepping into the kitchen.
His face was drawn, exhaustion carved into every line, but his eyes found hers immediately. "They're gone," he said. “Didn’t find anything in the tree line, so no idea what those men had, but if it was feed of any kind, some animal got it by now. Though, that doesn’t make any sense, because not all of the gators responded.” He moved past her to the sink, turning on the tap and letting the water run over his hands. She watched the mud swirl down the drain, brown fading to gray, fading to clear. "Chloe's going to run the two shell casings she found in the trees through the system," he said. "See if they match anything on file. Dawson's put out feelers with the marine patrol, in case anyone spots the boat."
"That's good."
"It's something." He turned off the water but didn't move, just stood there with his hands braced against the edge of the sink, head bowed. "Probably won't lead anywhere. If Karl hired those guys, he’s not stupid enough to use traceable weapons or registered boats."
“He was dumb enough to send a couple of yahoos to a natural habitat in the Everglades without telling them exactly what they were getting into.” Dove set her phone on the counter and crossed the kitchen to stand beside him. Close, but not touching. “I want to change the subject for a minute.”
“Do you, now.” He turned, sporting a familiar grin.
Shit. He was gonna be pissed. “My uncle would like a few minutes of your time.”
Trent's shoulders lifted. “I can’t imagine why.”
“I don’t know. Maybe it’s twenty years of guilt. Maybe it’s something else.”
“I take it you believe it’s something else.” He pushed away from the sink, running a hand through his hair.
“I don’t know. But I think it’s strange that he showed up. That all this stuff is happening. That an ex-colleague of his is pushing to allow mining next to your property after he knew what happened twenty years ago.” Dove let out a long breath. “Will you talk to him? For me?”
“I can do that, just not tonight. I need…”
