“Each?” I ask as my eyes land on my mother.
“Oh yes, Carole was the dirtiest of us at the stores,” Livvie says, much to my horror. My mom shrugs as if this isn’t a big deal.
“Oh, God,” I say, covering my face while the women around me laugh.
CHAPTER 3
EVAN
My therapist says I need to rebuild my bond with Nate, which I get. We’re twins, and the connection between us is unbreakable. Not to mention, he’s my right-hand man when it comes to my security business. I get why things happened the way they did, but that doesn’t make facing him any easier. When it comes to combat and protecting our families, Nate and I see eye-to-eye, but when Ryley and EJ are in the mix—that’s when I have an issue. I don’t want to share them with my brother, even though he’s very much been a part of their lives. It’s a hard road to travel right now.
I’m staring at the brown, nondescript clapboard building of a shooting range where the guys and I are meeting today when Nate pulls into the parking spot to my right. This is part of my bonding exercises with my brother—shoot guns and play GI Joe for a few hours. Honestly, after the bridal shower the other day, I need this. As much as I loved being at the shower for Ryley, I need to recharge my man card.
Nate and I get out of our respective vehicles at the same time and meet in front of my truck. We don’t hug. It’s not because I don’t want to because I think part of me does. It’s because hugging him seems awkward right now. Instead, I say. “Hey, how was your flight?”
Nate splits his time between here, Washington D.C., where my security firm has a field office set up, and Las Vegas, where Cara is on assignment, likely trying to take down some mafia syndicate or infiltrate some underground gambling operation. She’s reticent about what she’s doing, and if Nate knows anything, he doesn’t say. Personally, I think Cara has the coolest job and one I wouldn’t mind having.
“Not too bad,” he says. “I flew to Vegas to see Cara and then drove here. The drive is nice. I find it peaceful.”
“So, I take it Cara didn’t come back with you?” Ryley expected to see Cara at the bridal shower even though her RSVP came in as a maybe. We knew Nate wouldn’t make it, and I can’t really say if I missed him or not. This situation we’re in is odd. Technically, I’m his boss, and I trust him with my business. But when it’s personal, my feelings toward my brother are all over the place.
Nate shakes his head and looks away from me. The temptation to ask him if everything is okay sits at the tip of my tongue, but I bite back my question. Do I want to know if they’re having trouble? No, I don’t think I do, but only because I don’t want Ryley to know. The jealousy I feel when it comes to my fiancée and my brother is genuine and uncomfortable. As Nate’s brother, though, I should ask him and offer some advice if it's warranted. Not that I have much to offer, but it’s the brotherly thing to do.
“Cara’s working,” he says as he shuffles his foot over a pebble. “This case she’s on . . . it’s a tough one. I wish I could help her.”
“Can we help her?” I ask. Cara did a lot for us after my team returned from Cuba and was instrumental in helping us figure out what the hell had happened in the six years I was gone.
“Possibly,” Nate says. “I’ll ask her and see what we can offer. I suppose having access to a couple of CIA liaisons isn’t a bad thing.”
“Can’t hurt.” I turn at the sound of someone pulling in. Justin Rask waves from the passenger side of McCoy’s truck. I glance back at my brother and lean closer. “Ry seems to think Rask and Tink have something going on.”
Nate blanches and then pales. We make eye contact and stare at each other. His thoughts are probably the same as mine—we need to put a stop to this—but then I remember she’s not the teenage girl we used to chase boys away from. However, this situation might be different. The man in question is Rask, and I know what he’s been through. Life has not been easy for him since our return, and he still struggles emotionally. I don’t want my sister involved with that kind of shit.
“She’s not old enough to date,” Nate says as he stares into the cab of McCoy’s truck.
I laugh. We used to say this all the time when someone dared to ask Livvie out. “Sadly, she is.”