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Chapter Three
Jaxson
“Nice of Lincoln to offer to get us drinks,” I said. Our friend and newest member of the Eagle Tactical team had disappeared to the bar and hadn’t returned.
I’d have worried if I hadn’t noticed that he sat perched on a stool, talking up the cute little blonde.
I tended to be observant in nature, my military training factored into the equation, but I failed to notice the blonde on her approach. Only that she had sat on a stool beside him.
Had he offered to grab us drinks because he wanted to speak to her?
Or had she snuck up and spoken to him first?
Ariella sat across from me.
The giant booth felt cold and lonely. I wanted her on my lap, curled up against my body. That would have to wait until later.
Tonight.
In the privacy of my home.
It was complicated.
I was Ariella’s boss, and we’d made a rule of no fraternizing.
Obviously, it hadn’t lasted. It’d been too difficult for me to work around her and live with her. The living arrangements had happened before we were involved.
Well, kind of.
We had slept together, and then her house burned down.
Seeing as how I was her next-door neighbor, I offered to let her stay. One night turned into two.
She couldn’t afford to live anywhere else, and she’s great with my daughter Izzie.
Hiding our relationship from the guys, though, that was the hardest thing I’ve ever done.
But I didn’t see another choice. Ariella needed the job, and I neededher.
Mason grumbled under his breath as he sat beside Hazel and me next to him.
“What’s that?” I asked, glancing at Mason.
“I want a drink—a really stiff, hard shot of something. Anything,” Mason said.
Hazel patted his good arm, the one that hadn’t been shot recently.
Mason was still recovering, albeit he had been home from the hospital for six weeks, but it took time to heal and recuperate.
It seemed he was getting a little stir crazy, not that I could blame him. I didn’t think I could handle being cooped up at my house for six weeks either.
He nudged Hazel beside him. “Are you really going to tell me I can’t have one drink?”
“That’s right, tough guy.” Her hand slipped onto his thigh, and I averted my gaze. “No alcohol until you get the all-clear from the doctor. You have an appointment tomorrow, and if he says you can drink like a fish, then I’ll bring you all the liquor that you want.”
“He’s not going to say that,” I said. There was no way his physician would make that statement.
Hazel ran a hand through Mason’s hair, pushing the long dark strands out of his eyes. “How about I grab you something special from the bar, a sweet virgin treat?”