brown under the lights, and the crisp white sleeveless blouse clung to her skin.
“You, me, and her.” It wasn’t a question, but Ty nodded anyway. “What happens?”
“That’s on me. Nonnegotiable rule is that nothing happens that she doesn’t want.” Sean raised a brow, as in
No shit, Sherlock
, so Ty added, “You up for it?”
An uncharacteristic bitterness twisted Sean’s mouth. A part of Ty’s mind he thought he’d eradicated warred between thinking this was a bad idea for Sean, and thinking it was exactly what he needed when Sean said, “Why the fuck not?” more to himself than to Ty. “Has she done this before?”
Good question, one he would have asked in another lifetime. Ty shrugged, as if the thought of Lauren with not one but two other men didn’t ache like newly formed scar tissue. “None of my business.”
“Have you done this before?”
The jaded feeling swamped him again. “Jesus. You’re a lieutenant, not my mother.”
Sean looked at Ty’s empty glass, then at the cluster of glasses on the bar by his elbow. “If this is on you, you might want to ease up on the shots.”
Lauren’s breathless, smiling arrival saved him from a suitably obscenity-laden response, and if he didn’t order another whiskey,it was because he had to introduce Lauren to the man she was going to fuck later. Lauren shook Sean’s hand, her considering look nicely masked by the smile. She got the bartender’s attention and asked for water. “You want one?” she said to Ty.
“Yeah,” he said, and drank it when it came. Then signaled for another glass.
“How do you know Ty?” Lauren asked Sean. Her skin gleamed with sweat, and her eyes were bright, shining with a patina of dancing and alcohol. She was smart to choose water.
“We served together,” he said. “Ty was the guy who held everyone together. Personal problems, girl problems, grudges, whatever. He was magic with the friendlies, too. We’d go through the same villages again and again, trying to form relationships, strengthen ties while we were on patrol, and Ty was the guy who learned Farsi so he could make conversation. I remember this one time—”
Sean had been very careful to deemphasize his officer rank and present Ty in the best possible light, but the sludge inside him crawled up his throat. “Knock it off,” he broke in. “She’s already sleeping with me, and playing nice with the locals has a low CDI factor,” he said, then tried to distract her by wrapping his arm around her shoulders to pull her in for a kiss. She bit his lip hard enough to make him yelp, then gave him an insincere smile.
Sean froze with his beer halfway to his mouth as he watched this. Lauren turned to him and said, “I grew up on Army bases, so I know what CDI means. Chicks Dig It. The average male thinks things that go boom have a higher CDI than the hard work of diplomacy.”
He gave Ty a glance that said
You are so in over your head
. “You don’t seem like the type to go for that.”
“I’m not, and he knows it. Since you mentioned it, I noticed the same thing on the rig. The other workers looked to him for advice or just a shoulder, but it makes him really uncomfortable when youbring up what he used to be,” she said to Sean in a tone so mildly amused it took Ty a second to realize that she’d just stripped away the illusion that he was hiding anything from her. “Let’s dance instead.”
She took Ty’s hand, but he stayed put. “Kiss that and make it better, first,” he said, tapping his lower lip with his index finger.
“Does it hurt?” she asked, a hint of
poor Ty
in her voice.
“Yeah.” Everything hurt, especially watching Lauren and knowing he couldn’t risk what she had to offer. Standing in a club full of people who were drinking and dancing their pain away, maybe fucking it away later with a stranger. Grief and despair were everywhere, covered with the thinnest veneer of life.
“We’re even, then,” she said, too low
“You, me, and her.” It wasn’t a question, but Ty nodded anyway. “What happens?”
“That’s on me. Nonnegotiable rule is that nothing happens that she doesn’t want.” Sean raised a brow, as in
No shit, Sherlock
, so Ty added, “You up for it?”
An uncharacteristic bitterness twisted Sean’s mouth. A part of Ty’s mind he thought he’d eradicated warred between thinking this was a bad idea for Sean, and thinking it was exactly what he needed when Sean said, “Why the fuck not?” more to himself than to Ty. “Has she done this before?”
Good question, one he would have asked in another lifetime. Ty shrugged, as if the thought of Lauren with not one but two other men didn’t ache like newly formed scar tissue. “None of my business.”
“Have you done this before?”
The jaded feeling swamped him again. “Jesus. You’re a lieutenant, not my mother.”
Sean looked at Ty’s empty glass, then at the cluster of glasses on the bar by his elbow. “If this is on you, you might want to ease up on the shots.”
Lauren’s breathless, smiling arrival saved him from a suitably obscenity-laden response, and if he didn’t order another whiskey,it was because he had to introduce Lauren to the man she was going to fuck later. Lauren shook Sean’s hand, her considering look nicely masked by the smile. She got the bartender’s attention and asked for water. “You want one?” she said to Ty.
“Yeah,” he said, and drank it when it came. Then signaled for another glass.
“How do you know Ty?” Lauren asked Sean. Her skin gleamed with sweat, and her eyes were bright, shining with a patina of dancing and alcohol. She was smart to choose water.
“We served together,” he said. “Ty was the guy who held everyone together. Personal problems, girl problems, grudges, whatever. He was magic with the friendlies, too. We’d go through the same villages again and again, trying to form relationships, strengthen ties while we were on patrol, and Ty was the guy who learned Farsi so he could make conversation. I remember this one time—”
Sean had been very careful to deemphasize his officer rank and present Ty in the best possible light, but the sludge inside him crawled up his throat. “Knock it off,” he broke in. “She’s already sleeping with me, and playing nice with the locals has a low CDI factor,” he said, then tried to distract her by wrapping his arm around her shoulders to pull her in for a kiss. She bit his lip hard enough to make him yelp, then gave him an insincere smile.
Sean froze with his beer halfway to his mouth as he watched this. Lauren turned to him and said, “I grew up on Army bases, so I know what CDI means. Chicks Dig It. The average male thinks things that go boom have a higher CDI than the hard work of diplomacy.”
He gave Ty a glance that said
You are so in over your head
. “You don’t seem like the type to go for that.”
“I’m not, and he knows it. Since you mentioned it, I noticed the same thing on the rig. The other workers looked to him for advice or just a shoulder, but it makes him really uncomfortable when youbring up what he used to be,” she said to Sean in a tone so mildly amused it took Ty a second to realize that she’d just stripped away the illusion that he was hiding anything from her. “Let’s dance instead.”
She took Ty’s hand, but he stayed put. “Kiss that and make it better, first,” he said, tapping his lower lip with his index finger.
“Does it hurt?” she asked, a hint of
poor Ty
in her voice.
“Yeah.” Everything hurt, especially watching Lauren and knowing he couldn’t risk what she had to offer. Standing in a club full of people who were drinking and dancing their pain away, maybe fucking it away later with a stranger. Grief and despair were everywhere, covered with the thinnest veneer of life.
“We’re even, then,” she said, too low
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