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“Nope.”

“Ty!”

“Nope, nope, nope.”

“Come on! Please?”

A smile spread across Ty’s face and he glanced sideways at Zane. He was teasing him, the bastard.

“As you wish,” Ty drawled, amused.

Zane brought out his pack of cigarettes, but Ty reached and placed a hand over them. Zane met his eyes, prepared to argue for his right to smoke while they were here, but then Ty pulled one of his cigars out and handed it to Zane instead.

“Cuban?” Zane asked.

“Only if you’re not a Fed.”

“Deal.”

“Where’s your lighter?” Ty asked.

“I lost it.”

Ty flopped his hands dramatically. “This is why we can’t have nice things, Zane!”

The scuff of a boot heel below drew Zane’s attention before he could respond. They both sat up straighter, peering at the edge of the balcony. Zane jumped when a hand reached up and grabbed onto the bottom of the railing. They were five stories high.

A second later, Nick’s head appeared over the edge. All Zane could do was blink at him.

Nick grinned and pulled himself up, rolling over the railing and landing with ease and silence. The man was an impressive specimen, Zane would give him that.

“What the hell, man?” Ty said.

“Maid parked a housekeeping cart in front of our room. We couldn’t get it to budge.”

“So climbing the building was easier than climbing over the cart?”

Nick laughed, then turned to peer over the railing. “Come on, son, you’re getting slow.”

“I really haven’t had occasion to climb buildings in the last couple years, okay?” a voice said from over the edge. “Why do you know how to do this so easily?”

Nick reached down and helped Kelly climb onto the balcony. Kelly leaned against the railing and took a deep breath as Nick clapped him on the shoulder. They both looked at Ty and Zane, grinning.

Ty glanced at Zane, not even trying to explain.

Nick pulled two bottles out of his pockets and offered them to Ty and Zane. The one he handed Zane was water. Zane glanced up at him, surprised. How the hell did Nick know he wouldn’t drink a beer? Nick merely gave him a gentle smile. He took another beer out of somewhere and sat in the chair beside Ty, kicking his feet onto the railing. Kelly did the same, settling in the chair on Zane’s other side and producing more bottles, setting them on the ground for later.

Nick took a long drink as Zane stared at his profile.

Nick smiled, not looking at them. “We knew you’d be out here eventually. After you got the knocking boots out of the way. The housekeeping around here is kind of aggressive, huh? They tried to get in our room twice after we got in.”

“Yeah, we got extra towels while we were in the . . . shower,” Zane said before he could think better of it.

“You dirty little bunnies,” Kelly mumbled, smiling.

Ty shook his head and looked at Nick. “How many floors did you just climb up?”

“Only two, why?”

Ty laughed and touched his beer bottle to Nick’s, and then Kelly’s, and then Zane’s water bottle before taking a drink.

“Were we interrupting?” Kelly asked.

“No, Ty was just getting ready to tell me about the Marine he was f**king back in the day,” Zane answered.

“Seriously?” Nick asked, voice breaking. “Jesus, did everyone know you were queer but me?”

“Shut up!”

Zane tossed his head back and laughed.

“I want to hear it,” Kelly said with obvious relish. He sat forward. “Was it someone we were stationed with?”

Nick muttered and jerked his head, but he didn’t comment further. Ty just rolled his eyes. He gave the other two men a wary glance. “I don’t want to hear any shit for this if you two listen in.”

Nick solemnly held up a hand, but Kelly shook his head. “No promises. And don’t leave out the skeevy parts.”

Ty ran a hand over his face. “Oh God.”

Zane tried to keep his laughter quiet. He reached out and slid his fingers into Ty’s hand, squeezing.

“Okay,” Ty said with a deep inhalation. “You asked for it.”

Corporal Tyler Grady sat in his rack, reading the letter for perhaps the tenth time. He had known he’d get news like this one day, but it still hit him hard. His eyes traced over the handwriting again.

David Whitlock had written to congratulate him on making Force Recon. He’d ended the letter by telling Ty that he’d met someone in college. He was happy, and he thought he might be in love. But David was asking Ty’s permission to proceed, saying that he would wait if Ty asked it, just like he’d promised when Ty left.

Ty shook his head as he read it. He wouldn’t stand for that. David deserved so much more than Ty could ever have given him.

He pressed the letter to his bare chest and fell back onto his rack to stare at the canvas top of the tent above his head. After a moment he threw his arm over his eyes. He’d left for this very reason, to give David the freedom to move, to give himself options that didn’t involve sharing his life with someone he couldn’t commit himself to completely.

That didn’t make it feel any less like heartbreak.

The rack beside him creaked as someone sat down. Ty peered out from under his arm to see dark blond hair, compelling eyes that changed from blue to gray and back, and a smirk that always looked like it needed to be slapped.

“Ugh.”

Captain Chas Turner pursed his lips. “Oh, I know, it’s the intelligence officer, bury your head in the sand.”

Ty sat up. “Good afternoon, Captain.”

“Good afternoon, Corporal.” His eyes drifted to the letter Ty held in his hand. “I came to discuss the new policy I’ve instituted with the mail.”

Ty inclined his head as a sinking feeling started in his stomach.

“Every batch, we open a letter or two at random, just to make sure nothing important is being leaked. Yours happened to be that random letter this week.”

Ty held his breath and waited for the other shoe to drop.

Turner clucked his tongue and looked behind him to make sure they were alone in the barracks. The rest of the boys were outside, blowing off steam. When Ty had left them, they’d been creating a scarecrow out of munitions debris and dressing it in someone’s pilfered salty cammies. Ty had received his letters before the real fun could start and chosen to retreat to read them in peace, missing the culmination of the exercise.


Tags: Abigail Roux Cut & Run Thriller