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“And you?”
“Smithwicks.”
“Now, you’re talking.”
Foster backed up, waving her inside. “It’s still a work in progress so watch your step. And forgive the mess. It’s way better in the finished areas.”
“How much more do you have to renovate?”
“Not much. My parents did most of the work. Just a few rooms left but one of them is the first one you see, so that doesn’t instill confidence.”
She thanked him when he took her coat, hanging it on an old-fashioned rack before waving her through the construction zone and into the room beyond. His buddies were seated at a massive mahogany table, beers and pizza stacked beside them. Cards and chips tossed in for good measure. They glanced her way, nodded, then snapped their heads back. As if they’d just realized Foster wasn’t alone.
Foster motioned to an empty seat as he disappeared through another doorway only to appear a few moments later carrying a beer bottle. He popped the cap off with some fancy bottle opener, waiting until she’d taken her seat before placing it in front of her. “Hungry? Because I’m betting you haven’t eaten much if your dad’s had you working a double.”
“I’d love a slice.”
He nodded, stopping as he groaned and shook his head. “I swear, my mother would smack me up the backside of the head. Guys, this is Mackenzie. Atticus’ daughter, and your new pilot. Mac, starting on your right that’s Chase, Kash and Zain. Oh, and the mutt is Nyx.”
Mutt?
A cold, wet nose nudged her wrist a moment later, and she jumped as she stared into a set of soulful brown eyes. She gave the shepherd a scratch, laughing when the dog licked her hand before turning and disappearing under the table again.
“Who’s the handler?”
Kash grinned. “Guilty. And she’s far better than any of these other jackasses.”
“You included.” Zain offered his hand. “So, you’re Atticus’ secret weapon. Interesting.”
“Secret weapon?”
Zain shrugged, leaning back in his chair. “That’s what you father said. That he was bringing in a secret weapon he knew would change the scope of the unit.”
“He’s still referring to everyone as a unit? That man.”
“Old habits.” Chase glanced at Foster when he returned with a few different types of pizza on a plate. “Foster says you’ve got mad skills.”
Foster coughed, looking as if he wanted to sucker punch Chase in the jaw as he placed the plate in front of her. “Unlike these jerks who lack any form of tact.”
“Mad skills, huh?” Mac raised the bottle and took a tentative swig. The cool ale tasted sweet and fresh, and it eased any remaining tension straining her muscles. Dispelled the worry that accepting the invite was going to be an epic mistake. “That’s far kinder than what you could have said.”
Beckett paused short of taking his seat, glancing at Chase then back to her. “You didn’t say anything I didn’t already know.”
Kash cleared his throat. “Beck? It sounds like you have something you didn’t share with the class.”
“And it’s going to stay that way.” Foster took a long pull of his beer. “So, ex-Coast Guard. You get a chance to work in any of their TACLET units?”
Work. That was a conversation she could embrace.
“Just finished my sixth rotation with them before I came here.” Mac tilted her head. “Talk about a wild ride. But then, you’d know all about that. Flight Concepts. The 563rd. That’s an impressive resumé.”
Foster’s smile faded a bit as he glanced at his buddies. “Atticus has way too much time on his hands if he’s talking about that.”
“It slipped out here and there. But I’m an excellent listener.”
He leaned forward, resting his massive forearms on the table. “Why does that sound scarier than Atticus chatting about my CV?”
“Because you’re paranoid. All you ex-Spec Op boys are. But I suppose it’s part of your charm.” She shifted in her seat, suddenly aware the rest of his team were sitting there, watching them. Amused smiles curving their lips.