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)
“Asher might be more suited for that job,” Maverick says. “He’s got the calm, quiet thing going on. He can handle starlets, no problem.”
Gunner levels a scowl at them. “At least I won’t have to deal with your wisecracks. I’ll be on the west coast, far away from this crew.”
Riggs, who’s been silent, chimes in with a smirk. “Send pictures, or we’ll never believe it’s real.”
The table breaks into another round of laughter, and I smile, letting the conversation wash over me. This is what we fought for—these moments of camaraderie, free from fear or bullets or kidnappings. My gaze shifts to Briar, who’s nibbling on a chip while surveying the group with a contented expression. She catches me looking and raises an eyebrow in question.
I lean closer, letting the chatter fade into the background. “How’re you holding up?” I ask softly, mindful of her past anxieties.
Her green eyes shine with warmth. “I’m good,” she answers, resting a hand on mine under the table. “Happy.”
A wave of affection swells in my chest. God, I love her. The thought is so strong I can’t help the surge of pride that follows—pride that she chose me, that we survived all that chaos and still found each other intact.
Across the table, Dean pushes back his chair and stands. The group grows quiet, expecting some sort of announcement. Dean’s always been the leader, the anchor for us. He clears his throat, glancing around.
“I just want to say,” he begins, “it’s good to have all of us here, healthy and safe. Lincoln, Asher, and Boone are definitely missed, but their jobs are still going strong and they’re in the thick of it now. However, we’ve seen some dark days, but nights like this remind me why we do what we do—to protect the people who matter, and to keep living even after the worst storms.”
A flicker of emotion passes over his features, and Sophia slips her hand into his. The rest of us nod, murmuring our agreement. I feel Briar squeeze my fingers again, an unspoken vow that we’re in this together.
“Now,” Dean continues, forcing a lighter tone, “I’m going to excuse myself to rummage through Orion’s fridge. I need another drink, and there’s bound to be dessert around here. Right, Sophia?”
Sophia laughs. “We brought homemade cupcakes. Double chocolate, your favorite.”
A general groan of delight ripples around the table. I catch Gunner rolling his eyes again, but the corner of his mouth quirks up. Maverick chuckles, patting his stomach. “Well, we might have to waddle out of here.”
We continue feasting, the conversation weaving from topic to topic—Ranger and Tory’s upcoming trip to the mountains, Maverick’s new side hobby designing custom drone attachments, Riggs’s plan to visit family overseas. Even Jeb gets a mention, though mostly to complain about his 5 a.m. squawking. Briar volunteers an impassioned defense of the bird, claiming he’s just “energetically curious.” We all grin and humor her.
Eventually, the plates clear, the drinks run low, and we drift into the backyard to sprawl on lawn chairs, the sky overhead streaked with oranges and purples from the setting sun. Jeb waddles around on the grass, pecking at random spots. Ranger keeps an eye on him, calling out, “Don’t you dare take flight and vanish, you little thief.” Jeb merely cocks his head, squawks “Bah-hah-mas!” once more, and flutters closer.
I settle onto a cushioned outdoor sofa, Briar tucked beside me. She leans her head against my shoulder, and I drape an arm around her. Her hair smells like citrus shampoo and sunshine. The rest of the crew lounge around, finishing off the last of the iced tea or cracking open new bottles of beer. A comfortable silence envelops us, punctuated by the chirping of crickets and the occasional whir of a passing car in the distance.
When darkness finally settles, Dean and Sophia start gathering their things. Gunner stands, picking at his phone, no doubt checking for the next dreaded Hollywood assignment. Maverick and Riggs chat quietly about tomorrow’s training schedule. Ranger and Tory slip inside to wash a few dishes, and the muffled sound of running water filters through the open windows.
Briar shifts in my arms, her lips grazing my ear. “Ready for them to go so we can have some alone time?”
My heart stutters at her soft tone. Alone time. After everything, that concept feels sacred. I nod, pressing my mouth to her forehead. “More than ready.”
As if on cue, the final goodbyes are said. Maverick, who was quiet most of the evening, offers a handshake and a grin, referencing an early morning briefing with Dean. Ranger and Tory linger a bit, exchanging a warm look with me and Briar. Then, with Jeb safely back on his perch, we’re left alone at last.
We migrate back into the house, flipping off a few lights until only the living room lamp casts a gentle glow. The remains of the evening’s feast clutter the table, but it can wait. I guide Briar to the couch, and we sink into the cushions, the hush of night settling around us.