Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 78745 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78745 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Dean slips an arm around Sophia’s waist, giving her a playful squeeze. “We’re going to set the table. If those dogs are ready, we can bring them in.”
I poke one of the hot dogs with my tongs, listening to the juice sizzle. “Yep, just a minute or two more. You guys mind grabbing the buns and condiments?”
“On it,” Dean says, turning back into the house with Sophia.
The screen door clacks shut, and Riggs steps forward to help me pull the hot dogs off. We slide them onto a large platter that Briar insisted we get—white porcelain, no chips around the edges—one of many little upgrades to the place since she moved in. I used to live a strictly functional life: minimal furnishings, no decorative nonsense. But now there are splashes of color in every room, pictures on the walls, a new throw blanket across the couch. Every time I see these little touches of her, a quiet joy sparks inside me.
Platter in hand, I nod for Riggs to open the door. We head inside, where the living room is in the midst of some chaotic conversation. Jeb is perched on the back of a chair, repeating “Bah-hah-mas!” in a singsong voice that’s part parrot, part comedic impression. Ranger stands near him, arms crossed, grinning. Beside Ranger is Tory, the petite blonde who overcame her own set of challenges—some of which I only half know, involving a security mission that went sideways. She’s wearing a bright smile, amused by the spectacle.
Across the room, Gunner sprawls on the couch, rolling his eyes while Maverick and Briar chat animatedly next to him. The moment we walk in with the hot dogs, the smell must hit them because the conversation halts, replaced by appreciative murmurs.
Briar looks up, and our eyes lock. Her smile is instant, brightening every corner of my heart. She bounds over to me, pressing a quick kiss to my cheek. “Smells amazing,” she says, her voice low enough that only I hear the approval in her tone.
“Have to keep you well-fed,” I murmur back, ignoring the gentle teasing glances from our friends. I never used to do small talk or flirty banter, but with Briar, it's as easy as breathing.
She giggles, guiding me toward the dining table, which has been extended to accommodate the entire group. Bowls of salad, chips, a tray of condiments, and a pitcher of iced tea line the center. Dean sets down a basket of warm buns, and Sophia places a stack of plates at one end. Within seconds, the once-quiet table is a flurry of activity as we all gather around, pulling out chairs and passing around dishes.
“All right, all right,” Ranger calls out, raising his voice to be heard above the hustle. “Let’s get a seat before Jeb decides to sample everything.” He gently shoos Jeb off the back of a chair, and the bird flutters to a smaller perch in the corner, squawking in mild protest.
We manage to cram around the table, a cozy sort of chaos. Dean at the head, Sophia beside him, then Maverick, Gunner, Ranger, Tory, Briar, and me. Riggs, who always picks the most awkward seat, ends up at the far corner near Jeb. The bird eyes him as though planning a sneak attack.
A lull settles as we dig in. Paper plates crinkle, and plastic cups rustle. The aroma of fresh-grilled beef mingles with the crisp tang of salad dressing. There’s a sense of relief in the air, that intangible weight lifted from all our shoulders.
Mid-meal, I glance across at Gunner, who’s wearing an expression of thinly veiled disgust. He picks at the label on his beer bottle. Maverick arches an eyebrow. “Something on your mind, Gunner?”
Gunner huffs. “The new assignment. Dean stuck me with bodyguard duty for that Hollywood actress, Scarlett something. I’m not looking forward to babysitting some pampered starlet.”
At that, Tory laughs softly. “You think it’s going to be that bad?”
He shoots her a half-glare. “I’m an ex-Marine, not a glorified fashion accessory. The job starts in a week—two months in Los Angeles, trailing after this actress at red carpet events and swanky parties.” He shudders. “Doesn’t seem like my scene.”
Ranger chuckles, nudging him with an elbow. “C’mon, maybe you’ll like it. All those fancy parties and free drinks. Might even see some big-name celebrities. Hell, you might end up on the front page of a magazine.”
Gunner’s face twists like someone just made him eat a lemon. “I’d rather babysit Jeb in a hurricane.”
“Bah-hah-mas!” Jeb exclaims from his perch, as if weighing in on the conversation. We can’t help but burst into laughter, the tension melting away in an instant.
Dean clears his throat, pretending to be serious. “Look, we all have to take the occasional assignment that’s not exactly a perfect fit. Just try not to scare the poor woman with your scowl.”