Tahiti. Who goes to Tahiti on Christmas? Men named Brian, that’s who. Okay, so maybe he was letting this Brian give every other Brian on the planet a bad rap, but A.J. had felt there was something off about him from the beginning. Hence the request for the assist from the guys on his team. And had the rest of Bravo been available, he would’ve recruited their help as well.
“You know, Wyatt here is getting married in July, too.” Roman pointed toward Echo One. A.J. took a deep breath, unsure whether to be thankful or not for Roman’s effort to calm everyone down and prevent the exchange of blows. Roman hadn’t been around the Hawkins brothers long enough to know if they were all hot-tempered or not, but Roman knew A.J., so . . .
“Congrats,” Brian said, his eyes widening in a silent thank-you for the help. Not too many friendly faces at the table. “And what kind of bachelor party are you having? Not like this, I bet,” Brian remarked, inching back into the territory of clueless and stupid instead of afraid.
“Not having one,” Wyatt quickly replied.
“Let’s hope work doesn’t get in the way of Wyatt’s wedding,” Chris joked, and the blood nearly drained from Wyatt’s face as he pivoted toward Chris.
“You did not just say that.” Wyatt scowled. “You probably just jinxed us.”
“That’s like saying it’s quiet while working a shift on patrol on the streets of L.A.,” Beckett said with a grimace.
“Did you work in L.A. before here?” Chris asked in surprise as if not expecting the Alabama sheriff to have ever worked in Los Angeles.
“Yeah, but that’s a story for another day,” Beckett answered, his tone gravelly.
“If I don’t get to marry Natasha on time because we have to spin up,” Wyatt said, dead serious, “I’m gonna kill you.”
Chapter Three
A.J. scrutinized his reflection in the mirror above the sink in Caleb’s guest bathroom. Hands braced on the cool tile counter, he took a moment to stare into his light green eyes as the day’s events played over in his mind. When his gaze slipped down to his denim shirt, the top two buttons undone, the sleeves rolled to the elbows, he shook his head. What had he been thinking wearing something so hot during summer in the South? Was it the bump on his head that had him off? That had him seeing his long-lost friend as clear as moonshine on a summer day?
“Get a grip.” He turned on the faucet, splashed some water on his face, and expelled a deep breath before using a white hand towel with a crimson letter A embroidered on the center. His family bled the University of Alabama colors. His mom had preemptively stitched baby onesies long before McKenna was born in red and white with “Roll Tide” or “Crimson Tide” printed on them. She had a whole stack waiting for when the rest of her children chose to procreate. At the rate they were all going, Beckett might have offered their mom the one and only grandbaby.
“Maybe Ella was right? I should’ve gone to see the doc.” He twisted to the side to glimpse the bandage in the mirror. Still intact. “And am I talking to myself?”
There was a knock at the door, followed by a soft voice asking, “You okay?”
A.J. opened the door and scooped Rory into his arms for a hug.
“Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?” She squeaked as A.J. tightened his embrace.
“It’s been too long.” He set Rory down and leaned against the interior frame of the bathroom door while she remained in the hallway.
“You know me. Always chasing the next big adventure.” Rory pushed the wisps of light blonde hair that had fallen from her ponytail behind her ears before tucking her hands in the back pockets of her frayed jean shorts.
“Where were you last?”
“Somewhere in the Caribbean.” She gave him a bold smile that said it all. He needed more details, but he also knew Rory wasn’t going to divulge much more.
And if he pressed her, she’d push right back about his life. It had become a balancing act between them over the years.
Rory’s smile stretched, her eyes glinting as if reading his thoughts. “So, how’s private security treating you? Eight and a half years with that agency now, right?” And this was her opening, her way to remind him he had secrets, too.
His parents had practically begged him to leave his “civilian” job and move back home to help on the family ranch. Follow in his father’s footsteps. Neither his mom nor his dad understood the work he did, and how could they? A.J. had lied to them for eight and a half years. Besides, they had Caleb and Shep for help. Did they really need A.J.?
“I’m still in one piece,” he said with a half smile.
He grabbed his hat from the bathroom counter before they walked down the hall to the big open kitchen. A.J.’s mom had used her design skills to create a plan for Caleb’s house whether he wanted her help or not. His brother now lived on the pages of some Southern home magazine.
“And what happened to your head today?” She pointed to the bandage on his head, which was a reminder to put his hat back on.
“A rock. No big deal.” Only maybe it was because he saw a dead man near Shaw’s haunted cabin, and then he’d puked in the privacy of the forest without the guys knowing shortly before they helped patch his head.
They stood in front of the sliding glass doors that overlooked the patio and pool area out back. A few of the guys were in Caleb’s pool, including Perfect Brian, whose hair was no longer perfectly styled, but the wet strands were sticking every which way from what A.J. could tell.
“You boys play too rough.” Her Southern drawl hadn’t been lost during all her worldly travels. “And what are they doing to that poor guy?” Rory lifted her gaze to A.J.’s for a moment, humor shining in her pretty hazel eyes before she focused back on Chris, who’d just cannonballed into the pool missing Brian by a fraction of an inch.
He didn’t want to talk about Brian, even if that was why they were there. “I hear you’re thinking of moving to New Orleans. You consider changing your line of work? You always loved working with animals.”
“One last gig, and maybe I’ll switch gears.” She lifted her shoulders, not too convincing. She was a thrill-seeker, that was for sure, and it was something he understood. “I did speak to a few people about possibly helping out with training police dogs.”
He pointed to Chris, who was now on the diving board about to do a backflip into the deep end. “Captain America over there wants a canine for the team. Maybe you can help us.”
An amused chuckle left her lips. “Well, if y’all have any questions or need anything when the time comes, look me up. You know where to find me.”
“Actually, I don’t. You’re on the go as much as me.”
“Life is short. Gotta live it up while you can, I suppose.” She reached up and fixed his hat. “Ella says you’re still single.”
“Yup.” A.J. had been burned before, and maybe that was why he’d been too afraid to take the plunge and call Anastasia.
Rory knew all about A.J.’s past since A.J.’s long-time relationship back in his twenties had been with one of Rory and Ella’s best friends. But maybe burned was the wrong choice of words. That damn fire Caleb had going back behind the pool, the flames shooting a bit too high, was screwing with his thoughts.