Halos and Heroes - 8. Chapter 8

“Well, that escalated quickly,” is our family motto.

 

WITHIN the span of less than two hours, I’d delivered a dozen donuts to the eager female masses, changed out of Ben’s booty shorts into a pair of my own jeans, and gotten slapped on the back of my head with affectionate irritation by Sofia when I’d hugged her. I’d also had to accept the fact that Emma now had a new man in her life to share both her rambling little girl stories, and her Beanie Babies with. The one she’d gifted to A.J. was a purple dragon with iridescent green scales, and a hot pink plume of fire poking out between its pointed white teeth. I had a bear, a pig, and a porcupine on my bed, while A.J. got a fucking dragon. I wasn’t sure if there was some hidden meaning in there meant for me to decipher, like dream interpretation. The mind of a 7-year-old was a place I probably wouldn’t understand until Emma was almost 8 years old. At that point I’d have to start all over again anyway.

Tara and I had made polite conversation; a lot of mundane small talk I only had to give half of my attention to. Thank God, because the rest of my brain had been focused on thinking about effective ways to cock block my older niece, who also seemed to consider A.J. a fascinating new toy she wanted to play with. By the way Adelyn was batting her long eyelashes at him, I doubted it was a tea party or game of Uno that that she had in mind.

A.J.’s track record with relationships wasn’t as long as Max’s; mostly because he didn’t play for both teams like Max did. But Max had urged me to hurry home because my surprise, ‘was something girls liked,’ and though he’d been teasing me, he wasn’t wrong. Over thirty-six years, A.J. had honed his good ol’ boy charm into an image that made him as successful with women as he was at his job. ‘Ladies’ man,’ was an old-fashioned term, but it was better than calling him the equally appropriate, ‘seducer of sweet, and sometimes slightly slutty bunnies.’

The women that A.J. hired to work at his security firm came in all shapes and sizes, but their main allure was always what was in their head, not what was between their legs. He hired the best and brightest, regardless of gender, because he refused to be surrounded by incompetent people. When it came to dating though, A.J. had a definite type; female and brunette. Usually, long haired brunettes who looked great from the back in a pair of faded blue jeans and tiny tank tops. Brains were optional. Very few of them were the type of women he’d ever bring home to meet any one of his 8 million brothers, sisters, cousins, aunts, uncles, nieces, or nephews, much less his parents and grandparents. He also rarely introduced anyone to me. I’d asked him about that once. His response had been one of his trademark grins followed by, “If they’re not fit to introduce to members of my family, why would you meet any of them, Sarge?”

A.J. wasn’t the problem with this current situation. Despite liking, “slightly loose ladies,” he and I were family. He considered the women in mine to be sacred, which meant they were to be protected and cared for, just like the ones in his own. Sofia was his physical type, but he’d never disrespect her. He’d also gouge out his own eyes before he let an inappropriate thought towards Addie enter his mind. Considering how many nieces he had, a couple of them around her age, and plenty of them both younger and older, he’d probably give her the ‘stay away from boys until you’re at least thirty and want kids, because they’re all stupid, regardless of age,’ speech before I did.

However, that didn’t mean he wasn’t innocently amused by Adelyn’s slightly awkward flirting.

Despite being a pretty girl in jeans snug enough to give me agita, and a black T-shirt with a large, colorful rainbow on it that served as a backdrop for the cartoon unicorn who was flipping us all the bird, she didn’t behave with the confidence of a kid skilled in seduction, even though she was sure as shit trying to give it the old college try.

When Addie leaned against the kitchen counter to try and push up breasts that could put her in the running for chairwoman of the itty-bitty-titty committee, she shifted uncomfortably, like she realized she was missing the Lolita mark. She also worried her lower lip nervously with her upper teeth every time she tried to make a joke and it failed. Both slim hands topped with short black fingernails, tucked her long hair behind her ears so many times that I lost track. No one looking at her, who also knew me, could ever deny that she and I shared some major genetic markers, or that Addie had about as much game as her uncle.

Thank you, God.

Ben was the first to leave, citing a work thing. He’d kissed me goodbye before he’d left; just a brief brush of his lips against my cheek, but it’d earned me a lot of wide grins that I’d refused to acknowledge, even though one of them had been on Adelyn’s face.

Tara left shortly after Sofia announced she had to get ready for work, about a half hour later. The pretty blonde had been wearing an ankle length sundress in a wild, eclectic pattern of blues and greens. The thin straps of the dress had left her slim shoulders mostly bare, exposing the ink I’d been curious about before; a vibrant landscape of vivid red poppies, twisting green vines with delicate leaves, and tiny white flowers. The florals loomed at the base of her neck, then swept over her left shoulder and upper back on that same side, before winding all the way down her left arm to her wrist. Among the flowers on the back of her left shoulder, was a small red cardinal holding a silver key in its mouth that looked very similar to the necklace around her slim neck.

There was definitely a story there, and while I still wanted to know what it was, my Adelyn watching mission hadn’t allowed time for me to ask about it. Fortunately, Tara had opened the door and offered an invitation for another time and place when she’d wiggled her fingers in farewell at A.J, then looked right at me as she said, “You and I will talk later, sir.” That promise had been followed up with her making the two-finger gesture that universally represented, ‘I’ve got eyes on you.’ She’d blown kisses to the girls, bussed a kiss to Sofia’s cheek, then left, leaving the spacious, open concept space suddenly feeling a lot smaller without her energy. Since Tara seemed to be close to both Sofia and Ben, I had a feeling that our next conversation might involve some variation of, ‘hurt either of them, and I’ll cut your dick off and feed it to you.’

My own slightly predatory, protective instincts approved of hers, but I was also a tiny bit terrified for my anatomy.

After Sofia had gone upstairs to shower and change for her work shift at the hospital, it’d just been A.J., Emma, Adelyn and me in the kitchen. No one had eaten lunch yet, since donuts had derailed the usual daily dietary timeline. I’d promised Sofia three meals a day as part of my mea culpa, but she’d have to compromise today with two.

BLT’s were quick and easy to assemble. A.J.’s sandwich got spicy brown mustard instead of the mayo I put on mine and Adelyn’s. I was pleased with myself for remembering how she used to like it. But when I offered her the plate, Adelyn declared she was on a carb-free diet. Apparently, she thought I’d suddenly developed acute amnesia within the last two hours, and forgotten how she’d practically inhaled her Boston cream donut earlier. When I put lettuce, bacon and tomato on a plate with a side of mayo in front of her instead, she rolled her eyes and said that bacon and processed meats in general, were bad for the health of all human beings. A.J. and I split her bacon evenly between us, then fist bumped silently without missing a beat. Emma ate Addie’s tomatoes with the pieces of ham and cheese I stacked on top of each other, then rolled into little tubes for her. Adelyn finally rolled her eyes at all of us and went upstairs with some extra stomping when her offer to show A.J. her room was met with his slow, lazily drawled words.

“Maybe later, Addie, when your uncle’s ready for some backup for his reconnaissance mission to identify any special guys in your picture frames. My niece keeps all her current crushes in a ‘friend frame.’ ”

He grinned at me as Adelyn made a sound of frustration that was somewhere between a growl and a Banshee shriek. Best case scenario, she was a little over her newest crush.

Fucking awesome.

I could’ve kissed A.J. Instead, I gave him my entire portion of bacon from inside my BLT. He’d earned it

A.J. grinned and saluted me with one perfectly crispy piece. “Never fails.”

“Keep it up and I’ll pay you in bacon.”

“Thanks Sarge. Long as it’s not your personal sausage, I’m all on board for a feast.”

“I don’t like sausage,” Emma cut in, her words slightly muffled around the pieces of ham and cheese in her mouth.

“That’s ok. Not everyone’s into sausage.” A.J. didn’t look in my direction, but it worked for me because I could hear the wicked smile in his voice.

I hid my smile in the bite I took of my now vegetarian BLT. I finished my sandwich first, then left A.J. to supervise Emma’s consumption of processed meat tubes and tomato slices, while I made a ham and cheddar cheese sandwich for Sofia. I stacked the meat and cheese on a roll after I sliced it in half. Slices of tomatoes, and some shredded lettuce, were packed into their own plastic container for her to assemble on her sandwich when she got to work so the bread wouldn’t get soggy. Carrot sticks also got their own little container. A Granny Smith apple rounded out the healthy part of her lunch. I put the remaining half of her peanut donut into yet another small container—Tupperware was obviously still a thing, at least in this house—into her fabric lunch box. Then I filled her insulated purple water bottle with cold, filtered water from the fridge. Let’s hear it for uncle / brother-in-law of the year.

Both of Sofia’s eyebrows lifted over surprised, chocolate-colored eyes when she came back into the kitchen and I held up her goodies; the lunch bag in one hand, the water bottle in the other. She accepted the soft fabric lunch box that was covered in large flowers almost the same bright shade of pink as her scrubs, and stashed it in an oversized, and equally brightly colored bag that was already slung over her left shoulder. She accepted the thermos with a thank you, then looked from me to A.J. who was perched on a stool, meticulously peeling a red apple for a captivated Emma. The skin unfurled in a long, perfect strip that curled the longer it got.

A.J. winked at Sofia. Her lips twisted slightly before she said, “Remember what I said to you and Max earlier... No necesito que nadie me arregle a mí y a mi familia. Nosotros nos encargamos de ello. ¿Me entiendes?”

I had no clue what incident that mini tirade had spawned from, because I seemed to be late to this party. I’d have to ask both A.J. and Max about it at some point, to make sure I got every possible side and angle of the story to justify why my mild-mannered sister-in-law was fired up.

I wasn’t sure if Sofia actually expected A.J. to answer her, or if she’d deliberately switched to Spanish because it sounded more authoritative when people reamed you out in a language you didn’t understand. Unfortunately, if that had been her intent, she was out of luck. With so many recent movies and shows starring sassy, Latina characters with subtitles to make their passionate rants clearer, even non-Spanish speakers could recognize when they were being asked if they understood a question. In A.J.’s case, she wanted to make sure they were clear that she didn’t need him, and assumably Max, since he was mentioned as well, to fix her or her family.

Both Max and A.J. had an ear for languages. They’d made it a game between the two of them years ago to see who could learn more. A.J. currently had Max beat. His fluency in English, Spanish, Italian, Arabic, Japanese, and Russian, trumped Max’s English, Spanish, Cajun-French, and very fluent dialect of sexy smart-ass. Max learned languages for fun. For A.J., it was about necessity as much as enjoyment. Being able to communicate in multiple languages made him more successful at his job when dealing with clientele of all different backgrounds. He was good with people in general, so when he responded with a lazy, “Yes ma’am. I’m not here to fix anybody. I’m just stickin’ around for a week or two to look pretty, and be an ear for an old friend.”

Sofias lips rounded into a soft "O" of surprise. She glanced at me. I shrugged.

I couldn't blame her for being caught off guard. Brains, and the ability read a room and maintain steady focus to pick things up quickly, weren't usually the first thing women noticed about A.J. Despite all the new bulks he'd put on, his wild mop of tousled ginger hair still flopped carelessly over drab green eyes when he didnt bother styling it. Eyes, that unless an occasion called for seriousness, usually gleamed with the mischief innate in little boys right before they tugged the pigtails of a girl they liked. His strong jawed face witha narrow, subtly clefted chin. And dimples deep enough to take you to the other wide of the earth if you fell into them, were surrounded by strawberry blonde stubble that said late morning sunrise and mimosas, more than 5 o'clock anywhere. He was younger than I was by four years, but he looked even younger than 30. A.J claimed it was because he refused to let life jam a stick up his ass. Overall, the effect was as wholesome as Howdy Fucking Doodie, not 007 despite intelligence and security being something he so good at, he'd built a successful business around those skills. He just didnt look like the metaphorical onion with its many layers.

"He'd have understood if you yelled at him in Russian too. Last time I spoke to him, he said he was learning French."

“C’était il y a trois mois. Il faut suivre.” A.J.’s accent was flawless, the melodic lilt of French recognizable even though I had no fucking idea what he was saying.

A.J.’s grin was as satisfied as a lazy, content cat. “That was three months ago, Sarge. You gotta keep up. I started German a few weeks ago. I’m considerin’ Mandarin too, but German and Russian are good for usin’ around the kids and mixed company, ‘cause sayin’ somethin’ like, ‘I want a piece of bread,’ sounds mean as all heck in those two languages.”

When I glanced at Sofia, she looked a bit like a deer in headlights. Not afraid, but also not entirely sure what to do or say. It made me wonder when she’d last really spoken to a guy who wasn’t related to her, or just a friend. She didn’t seem to have a lot of the latter, other than Tara and Ben. It made sense since she’d been trying to hide the secret horrors of her house for five years from the public eye. I could relate. Which was why I also knew that kind of round the clock secrecy made it hard to develop meaningful relationships of any kind.

Sofia blinked, then nodded, her cheeks now only a few shades lighter than her scrubs even though I knew she wasn’t wearing makeup.

“Ok then… I’m glad we’re on the same page about that. But regarding him…” She turned to look directly at me, even as she spoke to A.J. again. “He’s going to need help, especially with Ben. Sam doesn’t know how to flirt. It’s a good thing he never liked girls, because they’d either have eaten him alive, or been the kind of woman who would’ve waited a million years for him to make a move that never came. They’d just have stared one another awkwardly in the eyes for hours.”

“Sounds very borin’.” A.J.’s voice was neutral, but after being friends for almost a decade, I knew all his tells. The subtle shifting bulge in the corner of his right cheek meant he’d jammed his tongue in there to keep the smartass contained.

“Hey now!” I protested.

Sofia ignored me. So, did A.J.

“I’ll make sure to give him some lessons on s-e-x-y stealth.” The first word was spelled with rapid fire skill—another trick picked up from having a huge family packed to the gills with little ears—"And a few of my go-to lunch and dinner recipes. All quick, easy, and kiddo approved.”

Sofia was visibly fighting back a smile now, the lines of her face softening in a way I hadn’t seen in years. For too brief of a moment, she looked like the woman who’d once been one of my closest friends. Someone who’d lit up any room she walked into.

“Max tried. Sam’s still Sam.”

“That’s only because Max is more about the chase than the catch, so he’s not as good at teachin' romantic tactics as I am. Sometimes he forgets that quality over quantity matters when you’re playin’ a longer game. Charm translates to flirtation better when you learn to relax, and focus on one thing at a time at any given moment before you move on to the next.”

A.J. held up the long strip of apple peel for us to see, then quickly coiled it into a loose shape on Emma’s plate resembled a rose. It delighted my niece, who whooped and looked at A.J. like he’d just handed her the moon. He winked at Emma and gently tugged her braid teasingly, then looked at Sofia as he said, “Like how to make women determined not to like you, smile anyway.”

Sofia blinked again, but this time, she allowed her smile to twist her bare lips up into a genuine smile that showed a hint of teeth. “Sam doesn’t like girls.”

“I know.” A.J.’s own grin deepened. “But the same concepts apply, regardless of gender. Killin’ two birds with one stone is always an efficient use of one’s time.”

“He’s as bad as Max is,” Sofia said to me, wisely refusing to touch A.J.’s comment with any length of pole.

“He is,” I agreed. “And he’s straight.”

Sofia’s lips twitched. A.J. smirked as he began slicing the now bare apple, carefully removing all of the seeds. He focused deliberately on his task to ignore the discreet rub of my right middle finger across the right corner of my temple. I knew he saw the gesture when the smirk deepened before he popped one slice of apple into his mouth off the safe flat edge of the knife. He fanned the other pieces in an arc at the top of my niece’s plate for her.

“Thank you, A.J.,” Emma said, her little girl voice even more adoring than Addie’s cow-eyed looks had been.

“You’re welcome, doll face.”

They smiled at one another and my injured pride’s only consolation was that she’d probably be the same way with Max when he came to visit. A.J. and Max were similar in so many ways, that if anyone with a singular shrinky bone in their body met each of them, then saw how they interacted with me both separately and together side by side, they’d probably accuse me having a type.

They might not be wrong, though in A.J.’s case, it wasn’t a romantic connection. He and Max were just both good men whom I trusted implicitly. The biggest discrepancy between them was that A.J. was as straight as they came, whereas Max rocked his diagonal status with complete, unflinching confidence, happy to put it out the world that whoever didn’t like it, could go fuck themselves. Ironically, though that key difference between them was what made A.J. as unavailable to me romantically as Max was, their basic, shared foundation of loyalty to me, bonded A.J. and I together as closely together as I was bonded to Max. Maybe even closer in some ways, because sex would never complicate things for A.J. and I like it did for Max and me.

Sofia’s smile softened when she saw A.J. smoothly switch the knife to his other hand to high five Emma when her hand came up. His fingers were going to be sticky as hell, but I knew he didn’t care. I’d seen him interact in similar ways with the nieces and nephews in his own family who were around Emma’s age. Both he and Max had elevated charming bullshit to an art form, and my nieces were falling for it hook, line and sinker. Sofia seemed a little less impressed so far, but A.J. had gotten a smile out of her twice in less than ten minutes. Not a record breaker for him, but considering the parameters he was working with, it wasn’t bad.

Sofia set her ridiculously large bag on the island, then rummaged around inside of it like a beautiful human trash panda for what felt like an eternity, until she finally produced a black wallet. The length of the expedition made me twitch. That bag was a danger magnet. If her keys ended up lost somewhere near the bottom, it was almost an open invitation to any would-be mugger, or rapist who wanted to take advantage of a woman who barely weighed a buck and a dime.

I frowned. Sofia was definitely getting a new, bright pink, slim and pocketable wallet to hold her license and credit cards. She was also going to have a keyless starter system installed in her car as a very early Christmas present from me.

She pulled three crisp, bank distributed Benjamins from her wallet, and offered the money to me.

"Would you mind taking Addie and Emma to the mall to get some new summer clothes? I’ve been meaning to take them but haven’t had a chance with everything that’s been going on.”

“Sure,” I said, taking the bills. “I need to pick up a few things for myself anyway.”

I folded the bills neatly, then slid them into the back pocket of my jeans, which I’d changed into almost immediately after everyone had been set up with their donuts. I’d kept Ben’s t-shirt on though, telling myself it was stupid to dirty up another shirt of mine since I’d have to wash his anyway before I returned it to him. I’d ignored the spark of pleasure that had bloomed low in my gut when Ben had swept me with a look of purely male satisfaction after I’d returned to the kitchen.

It was unlikely I’d use the money Sofia had given me. She didn’t seem to need financial assistance from me, but I hadn’t spoiled my nieces in years, so they were due a shopping spree. Overprotective Uncle Sam logic also argued that if I used my money, I'd be able to prevent new pairs of booty shorts from entering the house. It was a win-win as far as I was concerned.

“I’ll even aim for a few t-shirts without profanity, or unicorns trying to stick it to the man.”

Sofia grinned as she put her wallet back into her bag. “I appreciate the enthusiasm, but you need to cook dinner tonight, so not getting yourself annihilated by a teenage girl’s laser eyes is your top priority.”

“In that case I’ll go too, as backup. Safety in numbers and all. You can show me your favorite places around here. Maybe somewhere with good homemade ice cream,” A.J. said, eliciting another happy sound from Emma.

Thank God I had no ego left when it came to my family, or I’d be a gutted man.

Emma abruptly turned to look at me, her brown eyes hopeful. “Can we get ice cream, Uncle Sam?”

My heart wagged it’s fucking tail. A.J. was the toy uncle. I was the uncle, and apparently whatever I said, was how we’d roll.

“If you finish your lunch, absolutely. You’ve got two rolls to go. Make them disappear and maybe we can spring for a double scoop with extra sprinkles for you and me.”

“A.J. too?”

I grinned. “Nope. A.J.’s boring. He likes plain chocolate ice cream. No syrup or sprinkles.”

Emma looked horrified. “Not even whipped cream?”

“Not even a cherry on top.”

I laughed when Emma shot A.J. a disapproving look that clearly said, what the hell dude? as I threw him under the bus and backed it the fuck up. I wasn’t above fighting dirty to remain Emma’s #1 hero.

“Hey, sometimes simple is good. Clean, down home, uncomplicated ingredients result in a recipe you can really enjoy and savor when you’re eatin’ it, givin' it the respect a dish like that is due, without all the extra artificial stuff people feel they need to add to spice things up.”

It was an innocent sounding comment to anyone who was health conscious. Nothing to make little ears perk with interest. It was also appropriate to the current topic of conversation. However, I knew A.J. My tongue pressed against the slick back of my lower row of teeth when I followed his gaze as his voice suddenly dropped to a lazier octave, his smile that slow but focused one that usually meant trouble. That smile was aimed with laser direct intensity at Sofia.

My lips twitched when Sofia briefly glanced up at A.J. before fumbling her water bottle as she tried to stick it into her bag. I smoothly caught it before it hit the floor, then handed it back to her. Sofia didn’t meet my eyes as she took a moment to fidget by putting it into her bag neatly rather than just tossing it in. Her bottle was the insulated, leakproof kind. She didn’t need to be that careful with it.

I hid my grin in my hand. I recognized awkward dawdling. I was a master at it.

Emma gave me a look of gratitude when I stole the last of her ham and cheese rolls with a wink, because an empty plate meant a quicker path to the promised land of ice cream. I stole a sideways glance at Sofia as I chewed.

Her hair was drawn back from her delicately featured face into a braid almost to her mid back. Without any cosmetic artifice, I could clearly see the deepening blush that crawled up her cheeks, then worked its way into her temples and hairline.

A.J. had been teasing before, subtly enough now that Sofia could ignore it. Now he was outright flirting, albeit more gently than he ususally did with women. The flirting itself didn’t surprise me, because it was practically a default for him around a pretty woman. What did surprise me, was that although Sofia was flustered, she wasn’t running, or looking toward me to step in and put A.J. in check.

As I watched, she reached up with one hand to tuck a strand of dark hair that had escaped the braid, back behind her ear. She looked so much like Adelyn in that moment, that had it been anyone other than A.J. inspiring that degree of vulnerability, me stepping in would’ve been the least of his problems. Fortunately for A.J., I trusted him with my life. Trusting him with my family was a non-issue.

I wasn’t going to outright encourage shenanigans between my sister-in-law and my best friend who lived on the other side of the country, but Sofia had been put through the fucking wringer by Connor just like I had. We both needed to be reminded that while we might be a little broken, we weren’t fucking dead yet. And after this morning in Ben’s kitchen, I could testify that my own hormones were very much alive, and open to celebrating that fact. Granted, I was as uninterested in the status of Sofia’s hormones as I was in Adelyn’s, because I didn’t want to end up in prison. But, she and A.J. were both adults capable of consent. If they were on the same page, then I was alright with them seizing the day while he was here. I knew A.J. wouldn’t hurt her. He had some tomcat tendencies, but he wouldn’t have survived to adulthood in his relatively conservative southern family that was 2/3 female, if he didn’t know how to respect women.

Sofia glanced up at A.J. as she murmured, “I don’t easy spicy food so…none of that in your recipes… but…other things…I might be willing to try…”

I coughed into my hand hard to keep from setting the exaggeratedly drawn out ‘oooooookay,’ that was resonating in my head, out and free to the world.

Sofia’s blush intensified, but she offered me a brief grin before she leaned over to hug and kiss Emma goodbye. My cheek got brushed by the softness of her lips next. She lingered long enough to murmur against my ear, “not a word…”

I grinned and ignored her, hugging her properly so I could speak discreetly into the thickness of her hair. “He talks a lot of shit, but he’s safe. I’d have already ended him otherwise.”

Sofia chuckled before hugging me back. When she pulled away she grabbed her bag. “I need to get to work. Emma, please go change because you spilled something on your t-shirt. And make sure to brush your teeth. Two whole minutes.” The warning was as much for me as for Emma, since Sofia knew my take on kids, and the ridiculous over protection of baby teeth that would fall out soon anyway.

“Ok, mami. I’ll tell Addie too.”

“Good looking out for my mental health, kiddo,” I said. Emma giggled when I winked, the joke clearly sailing straight over her head. Sofia gave her another motherly hug and kiss combination, before she glanced over at A.J. Her voice was steady, but her chin was slightly lifted; a subtle tell of nerves I was very familiar. She’d done it since we were kids.

“Are you coming back for dinner?”

“I’ll be helpin’ Sam make it. I don’t trust him on his own.”

“Neither do I.” Sofia’s smile was crooked and brief, but genuine as she ignored my grumbling about smartasses all around. It gave me hope that the vibrant, funny girl I’d loved like a true sister, was still in there. As long as I had my metaphorical fingers in my ears and pretended, I didn’t see A.J. trying to coax her out, it was all good.

“Ok. Sam, I’ll call you later when I’m on my way home, just in case you need me to grab anything from the grocery store.”

Sofia gave one last quick wave I assumed was directed at all of us, then left.

Emma got up as well to do what she’d been told. But then she paused and grinned at me, holding up one small finger in the universal gesture of ‘hold on a second,’ before she dashed out of the kitchen. A.J. shrugged when I shot him a quizzical look, clearly as out of the loop as I was.

“They’re little weirdos at this age.”

I hid my smile when Emma came back quickly, carrying something small and rainbow colored. She handed it to me. I grinned as I turned it between my hands. It looked like some kind of lizard, but was definitely not a dragon. The toy had its long, narrow pink felt tongue sticking out, curled up at the end. No flames for me. Unless of course, it was a gay lizard in all its rainbow-colored glory. In that case, it was flaming.

“Thanks sweetheart. New friend to join the rest of the troops on my bed?”

Emma nodded. “His name’s Chaz. He’s a chameleon, just like you.”

A.J. made a choking noise that sounded suspiciously like a muffled laugh. Emma probably had no idea how accurate her insight was. A chameleon was exactly what I’d had to be in the military. Blending in with unfamiliar surroundings to get in, get a job done, then get out without raising newsworthy alarm bells. But to a degree, I’d also done it in my personal life; blending in, playing whatever part I needed to in order to keep the peace.

I’d been a happy son in public to avoid CPS involvement when Connor and I were kids. To the Melones, I’d always been a good son, to prove that I was worth the time and effort they put into making me a part of their family. To Sofia, I’d tried to be a good brother. And from the time the girls were born, I’d always aimed to be an uncle who had it all together so they and Sofia always felt safe. I was only operating at about 70% of that goal right now, but I was still was aiming for 100% one day. Even in front of Max, I occasionally hid in plain sight. I’d never lied to him directly, but pretending for almost two decades that I wasn’t in love with him, had elevated lies of omission to the term being worthy of redefinition.

Ironically, A.J. and now Ben were the only people in my life who saw past whatever pattern of distraction I decided to put on. A.J. had been part of my Ranger team, and once he found out about Connor and Devlin, we didn’t have any other secrets between us. Ben….. well Ben was just a persistent pain in my ass who’d probably have been just as good a prosecutor as he was a priest, because the man could see straight through the best laid bullshit.

“Do you like him?”

Emma’s voice brought my focus back to her face. I nodded, then set Chaz on a clean part of the counter in front of me to watch while I fixed Emma’s braid. It had started drooping from the top, slightly lopsided like it always seemed to get halfway through the day, whether it was in one plait or two. She stood between my legs with her back to me while I sat on the stool. I gave her the two bands I removed from her hair. They had plastic balls on them in a sunny yellow color, complete with happy faces. I’d braided Adelyn’s hair for her when she was little and Sofia had to work early hospital shifts. I’d gotten good at it back then. Apparently, muscle memory was a real thing because I still remembered how to do this.

“Any special reason you think I’m like Chaz?”

I loosened Emma’s thick hair and gently combed it out with my fingers before gathering the heavy mass high up on her head after smoothing the top and sides back. “Tie,” I said to her. She handed it to me, then responded.

“You used to wear a uniform with lots of different colors. Mami said it was so bad people couldn’t see you. To keep you safe.”

“She’s right, but I don’t wear cammo anymore because I’m home and safe here with you,” I said. I neatly wrapped the elastic hair band twice around the hair that I had gathered in my fist. I adjusted the yellow balls so the smiley faces looked cheerfully upward, then quickly braided the dark mass into a single thick rope down her back.

“I know, but Chaz is rainbow colored, so he blends in with any color, no matter what you’re wearing.”

“Sounds like someone’s encouragin’ you to rock those rainbows loud and proud now that you’re retired,” A.J. murmured near my ear as he passed me on his way to the refrigerator. My hands were full, so all I could do was offer him a dirty look instead of choosing friendly violence. He grinned, helping himself to a bottle of water from the fridge. He chugged most of it before I finished off the bottom of Emma’s braid with the second tie. I smoothed the top of her head with both hands to flatten any flyaways.

“Gorgeous. Go take care of those teeth and t-shirt, then tell Addie the game plan and let her know A.J. is coming too.”

Because that might possibly get her moving without preplanning my demise.

“Ok, Uncle Sam.”

She smiled at A.J. “I’m glad Uncle Sam has friends now. You and Uncle Max and Father Ben make three. I have five best friends, but three’s a good number too.”

I refused to look at A.J. but could hear his soft snickering as he finished his water. He crumpled the plastic bottle, tossed it into the recycle bin, then got enough control of himself to sing song in barely passable pitch. “You've got a friend in me; you've got a friend in me… You've got troubles, I've got 'em too, but there isn't anythin’ I wouldn't do for you… We stick together and we see it through. 'cause you've got a friend in me.”

Emma giggled then paused, her already large eyes rounding behind her glasses as if something had suddenly occurred to her. “Uncle Sam, I was wrong. You have four best friends.”

“I do?”

“Yep.” She held up her slim right hand, lifting one finger at a time as she counted. I noted with absentminded amusement that each one was painted a different bright color in her own interpretation of cammo apparently. “Uncle Max, A.J., Father Ben, and me.”

I felt my expression soften. “ Kiddo, you’re at the very top of that list. The tippy top.”

I got a smile so wide, I could see every well-maintained tooth in my niece’s mouth. “Go take care of the things your mom told you to do, then round up Addie. A.J. and I are going to take a quick walk so I can show him around a little bit since he’s never been here before. When we get back, we’ll go, so be ready.”

“Ok. We can show A.J. the carousel at the mall. I like the unicorn.”

“That used to be Addie’s favorite when she was your age.”

“I know, but now she doesn’t like to ride it anymore cuz she’s usually wants to hang out with her boyfriend when we go to the mall with her friends.”

Boyfriend?

I exchanged a look with A.J. when I heard him whistle low and with feeling as he drew a finger slowly across his own neck, out of Emma’s line of sight.

Amen, brother.

This was the first time I was hearing about any boyfriend. I felt my eyes narrow. Sofia had been the same around the same age when she'd gotten pregnant with Adelyn, so a teenage kid's hormones and my niece didn't fly with me. At some point I would be meeting this potential juvenile delinquent who was interested in my niece who, judging by her disastrous attempts at flirting with A.J., was inexperienced at best.

“Well, the carousel sounds cool,” A.J. said, breaking through my silent plans for potentially ending a teenage boy. “Maybe they have a dragon,” he said, before tossing me my house keys from one of the hooks on the wall where the other sets of keys hung. Mine were clearly identified by the small plastic tag Sofia had put on it that said, ‘Uncle Sam’s house keys,’ in her neat, elegant script. I’d added the key to my rental to the same ring. At some point, I’d have to look into getting my own vehicle since I was now staying in Florida.

I caught the keys mid-air, then we headed out after Emma left the room. We only went as far as the front porch. I knew Adelyn was old enough to watch Emma alone. God only knew how many times she’d had to do it over the last five years when Sofia had to work late shifts at the hospital. They’d be fine. I was the one who needed the reassurance.

A.J. grinned as if he read my mind, but he displayed truly monumental levels of self-restraint, and kept all commentary to himself. Teams of grown men who were officially trained for combat situations didn’t require an overprotective streak in their leader, but I’d always had their backs. I would’ve willingly chosen not to come home if the choice had been between any of their lives, or mine. A.J. knew that. The girls and Sofia just got those instincts turned up to two hundred percent.

The porch swing groaned softly under our combined weight when we sat down.

“Your heart must be all gooey inside right now, like a good lava cake. You know I have a lot of nieces and love ‘em all, but Emma is a doll-faced sweetie pie. Those glasses are ridiculous.” He rounded both his hands around his eyes.

I chuckled. “She is, and they are, but don’t think I didn’t notice you getting your share of hero worship. I got a chameleon. You got a fucking dragon,”

A.J. grinned, his teeth as bright as his hair in the sunshine. “It’s the whole ginger thing. People look at me and think red. Fiery. Spicy.” His eyes crinkled into little half-moons as his dimples appeared. “Doesn’t hurt that I’m also hot.”

I snorted. “And oh, so humble.”

“Hey, lying is bad, so saying I’m not worthy of dragon status is lying to a kid. That’s not my pseudo uncle style.”

“Well, if that’s what you’re running with, then make sure you work that “pseudo uncle magic,” on Addie. “The clothes give me agita as it is. I don’t need to lose my mind over her potentially being lured into becoming some old perv’s sugar baby. Florida isn’t a good place to bury bodies, especially when hurricane season starts.”

“There’s always the Glades,” A.J. said, ginger brows hitching high with amusement as he set the swing into a slow rock with one leg on the ground, the other drawn up to his chest, the heel of his boot flat on the seat.

“Gators will eat just about anythin’, and they hide their food. Nobody would ever find the bodies.”

“That information would’ve been helpful during the past 6 years when I was working.”

“Yeah, well, considerin’ the look in your eyes when Emma dropped a dime on Adelyn’s boy toy, it may still be useful. She’s a pretty girl. Sweet. Smart. But if those micro shorts she was wearin’ before Sofia made her change are a common occurrence, you gotta be walkin’ around with daily migraines.” He grinned when I grunted noncommittally. “I know you, Sarge. You’re fixin’ to call in every favor you have to get fact checks on her mystery miscreant. Fortunately for you, you can keep those favors banked because you happen to know a guy who owns his own security firm, and has that ability available at his fingertips because he hires very good people.”

I smirked when A.J. pointed at himself an exaggerated gesture. “Thanks man. First, we need to figure out who he is. Maybe she’ll open up to you. I’d get nowhere.”

I paused, thinking about how hard Addie shut me down every time I tried to get her to hear me out on anything, or even to accept my apologies so we could start trying to build some sort of dialogue.

“Oooh, I know that face,” A.J. said, squinting his eyes at me. “That’s the, ‘there’s some fucked up situation happenin’ right now’ face. But seein’ as it’s just you and me out here, what’s on your mind?”

“Same thing I’ve been thinking for over a week now.”

“And that is?”

I exhaled heavily, lacing my hands behind my head, both my thumbs digging into the tense flesh at the nape of my neck as I tried to rub it away.

“That I’ve been out of their lives for 5 years. In some ways, they’re all strangers to me now, so I should probably act the part until I earn their trust back, especially Adelyn’s. Sofia and I have been friends since we were kids, so she has years of context to fall back on whenever she finally decides to use it to weigh whether or not I truly deserve a second chance. Emma was too young the last time I saw her, to really remember much about me. Her feelings are based on current events, so it’s easier with her.”

“Judging by the army of plushies she showed me in your room earlier, I agree with you. The kid thinks you walk on water.”

I moved my hand away from my neck so that I could just roll my head around side to side, finding only minor relief in the harsh pop as everything temporarily realigned.

“Yeah, Addie’s the one that’s going to be tough. And I get it, believe me. I know she needs time to adjust, and that I should just let things play out on whatever timeline she chooses, but…”

“But you can’t, because you’ve never been good when things are out of your control. You’re a big ball of experience created OCD. You’re also a bit of a hardass.” A.J. chuckled when I side-eyed him. “Sorry Sarge, but it’s true. Then again, those personality quirks are what made you a fantastic leader. We all would’ve followed you to hell and back. Girls are an entirely different kind of animal though. It’s all about the feelins’ with them.”

I knuckled my eyes restlessly. “I’m trying, A.J." I sighed. “I’m not saying that Adelyn can’t. or shouldn’t be 50 Shades of Pissed about how I handled things. But two things can always be true at once. In this case, it’s true that she can be angry and resentful because I made a mistake that she feels negatively impacted her life. Also true, I still have the right to act like I give a shit, because I do. I might’ve dropped the ball for the last five years, but that doesn’t negate the fact I was in her life from the first day when she made her debut into this world. I was the first person after Sofia to hold Adelyn at the hospital when she was born, because Connor never showed up. Whenever Sofia’s parents couldn’t watch Adelyn, and Sofia was going to school, or working hours that I wasn’t, Addie was usually with me, not Connor. I taught her to ride a bike, and she lost her first tooth in a gummy worm I gave her while we were at a Disney matinee together. I obviously wasn’t around for every life milestone because Connor and I were both enlisted, but I did see a lot of her up until age 12. I had less time with Emma, but I was there more often than Connor was… until I wasn’t.”

My head pulsed, the stress aggravating my hangover. I pinched the bridge of my nose hard. "I know it may sound stupid, but in a way, Emma and Addie have always been more mine than Connor’s, so this shit is killing me. And the worst part is, I fucking did it to myself, all because I let him get into my head.”

“It’s not stupid,” A.J. said, his earlier humor tucked away for now as he shifted on the swing, throwing off the previous easy rocking motion until he was able to face me. He switched legs so his left was hanging off the swing, the toe of his boot braced on the ground to start our back-and-forth journey all over again, while the right was flattened on the swing, his right arm resting loosely on top of that same knee.

“I mean, they are yours. Biologically speakin’ anyway.”

Whatever expression was on my face—probably some skepticism blended with a lot of W.T.F.— prompted him to immediately elaborate.

“You were identical twins, Sam. You share the same DNA. And yeah, on some deep dive, micro chromosome level or whatever, there are goin’ to be some differences. But on a standard paternity, or DNA test for one of those ancestry sites, you’d be earnin’ yourself a #1 Dad mug.”

“I’m waiting for a point.”

He offered me a crooked grin. “All I’m sayin’ is that maybe for once, there’s no nature vs. nurture debate, because they’re workin’ together here. Genetically, the girls are yours, so maybe some of those protective paternal predispositions are already built in toward Adelyn and Emma. Adding in the fact that you helped raise them means those daddy instincts kickin’ in hard make even more sense. Genetics alone don’t make a sperm donor a dad. You have to give a shit to actually claim a kid as yours. You have to show up. I mean hell Sarge, I knew you and Connor were identical twins, but he never showed us pictures of Sofia and the girls. You did. So, when I got here and Sofia showed me around, all the family photos kind of freaked me out, if I’m absolutely honest with you. I couldn’t tell who was who half the time, especially when the girls were in the photos with you at varyin’ ages.”

“Yeah, I know. It’s fucking weird for me too,” I admitted. “Especially the handful that were taken after I stopped coming home.” I paused, choosing my words carefully, even though I knew A.J. was as unlikely to judge me as Max was.

“When Connor was alive and we stood side by side, there was a clear distinction between our technical roles no matter what we looked like. Connor was their father. I was their uncle.”

“But now Connor’s dead,” A.J. said.

“Yeah, and I’m still their uncle, but having to step in like this…” I exhaled a frustrated sound. “It’s just a weird fucking situation man. Frankly, if I hadn’t known how gay I am since I was a kid, Sofia and I probably would’ve ended up together. We’ve always been close, so I’d never have let Connor get anywhere near her if there’d been even the slightest possibility of us ending up together. I’ve always loved her. Just not in the way she needs or deserves.”

“And yet, the ever interestin, and also very fickle Lady Fate brought you back here, and you're now raisin' those two kids together. Which, you’re killin’ in the braidin’ of little girl's hair department, by the way. That’s not even a skill I’ve acquired over the umpteen years that new kids have been added to our family tree to strengthen my uncle street cred.”

He offered me a fond smile. “Knockin’ boots isn’t a requirement for a happy family, Sarge. You just all need to find your fit, regardless of titles. Lord knows I’m a godfather to enough of my nieces and nephews, that that if God forbid some horrible shit went down, I’d be rockin’ the daddy/ uncle hybrid status too.” He paused, making a comfortable humming sound as the swing finally found the perfect lazy rhythm again. “The best families are like wolf packs because it doesn’t matter who gave birth to the wolf puppy spawn. They just make it work. You’re here now, so that’s what you gotta do; make it work, hard and ugly as it might be at times. You’ve never pussied out on anythin’ in all the time I’ve known you. This isn’t the time to start, so consider this some tough fuckin’ love shit."

My lip curved slightly, and I deliberately leaned back more heavily in the swing seat, squaring off my stance to distribute my weight more solidly so that A.J. really had to work for that steady rock. Considering how much muscle he'd packed on since I’d last seen him, he could handle it. A.J. wasn’t my type, but I could appreciate the aesthetic as much as the women in my family could.

My lips scrunched for a moment with distasteful mental realization. I quickly recalibrated, changing women, to Sofia in my head. Addie was a hard no in any equation involving A.J., unless she started looking at him like an uncle the way she looked at Max.

“Did you ever consider tellin’ them the truth about Connor?”

My skin suddenly felt cold despite the climbing humid temperatures. “About him cheating, or about him being gay?”

“Maybe all of it to Sofia, and at least the gay part to Adelyn. Just to give them both some context, and maybe a little closure on that end so they can process, then move forward with all the rest of the interpersonal family garbage and emotions they need to work out.”

“You’re telling me I should break their hearts all over again.”

I felt my eyebrow lift and A.J. shrugged.

“I’m not sayin’ it won’t hurt. Frankly, if it were a different situation where they thought they were one big happy family before Connor died, I’d tell you to take the secret to your grave. In that scenario, they could've never imagined him havin’ an XY side piece, and the knowledge of his infidelity would’ve likely caused some irreversible emotional damage. But that’s not what we’re workin’ with here. Connor had some major fuckin’ issues. We can all agree on that. And it doesn’t make any of the shit he put them through ok. But maybe if they knew at the very least that Connor was a closeted gay man because of his inability to adult like a normal human being ninety percent of the time, then they could work that out in their heads however it makes sense to them, even if it means they might romanticize the shithead like he was the star of some tragic cowboy drama livin' two lives.”

The swing stopped moving when A.J. moved the foot he had on the ground to gently kick my sneaker, obviously reading my facial expression that said I was one hundred percent not on board with Connor getting a free pass like that, especially considering that I'd gone through a lot of the same shit, and I didn't hit girls.

“I know, I know. But sometimes compassion heals better than hate does, even when the hate is justified.”

“Maybe, but where would that leave me?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that if we go that route, optics say that the reason I abandoned my family for five years was because I had to put my brother’s secret over their well-being.”

A.J. sighed. “Shit. Yeah, sorry, Sarge. I didn’t connect those dots in my head before I said anythin'. My bad.”

“It’s ok. I told you… it’s fucking complicated. Connor being gay and cheating with Devlin isn’t why I left, or why I stayed away. But if I tell them Connor was gay, then I also have to tell them what broke the relationship between my brother and me. Which leads to Devlin and me, then to Devlin and Connor. That’s bad enough, because then it might seem like I dropped my family because I was angry that my brother, ‘stole my boyfriend.’ It comes off as petty and selfish. Why would they trust a man like that?”

Clarity softened A.J.’s features. “But, if you tell them that you stayed away because you thought you were protectin’ them, it means you need to come clean about your PTSD.”

I nodded slightly, closing my eyes for a moment. The idea of talking about all of this with a therapist, starting from the very beginning of my fucked-up childhood, was daunting. But A.J. and Max knew almost everything about me. There was a certain kind of comfort being around people who could help finish your sentences and fill in the blanks.

“Connor was a violent monster in their lives toward the end. I don’t want them to be afraid of me too, just because we’re goddamn mirror images.”

And there it was, the painful truth that I’d never wanted to admit, not even to myself. I exhaled noisily, rubbing both my hands over the back of my head before I leaned forward. Pressing my palms hard against my thighs, I planted my feet more firmly on the floor which meant that not even A.J.’s best efforts could make the porch swing move. I turned my head to look at him.

“I’d rather just keep my mouth shut and have them believe Connor and I got into some unknown stupid shit we both refused to talk about, and I couldn’t get past. They can hate me for failing to see what Connor was doing to them because I stayed away. I can work around that.”

“You can, but it’d be workin’ harder not smarter,” A.J. said. He met my gaze squarely and held it. “You should at least tell Sofia. She can decide whether or not Adelyn needs to know, but at least she can stop feelin’ like she had anythin’ to do with Connor being a fuckin’ dumpster fire. She loves you. She trusts you. I honestly think all it would take to smooth in a lot of the rough spots between the two of you, is some clarity. She has eyes, Sam. She sees that you’re tryin’. She knows you clearly adore her kids. You did a better job with Emma’s hair then I’ve ever done with any of my nieces, and I’ve been doin’ the uncle thing much longer than you.”

I considered it. A.J. hadn’t built up one of the most successful private security firms in the US because he was stupid, or out of touch with the way people thought. He was a pro at effectively problem solving all kinds of shit. And if I was honest with myself, I suspected Sofia already had an idea that Connor was keeping a major secret. Telling her he’d been gay and just a damaged human being might give her some peace, but would it do the same for Adelyn? Connor and I had known with absolute certainty that our father was an abusive, lying, and cheating prick. But even now with almost twenty years between this moment, and the last time we’d seen one another, thinking about my father always made me taste copper in my mouth because I inevitably bit down hard on my tongue to keep from snarling.

“I’ll think about it, but I make no promises. Sofia, like my mother, laid down and took it. She made her choice. Adelyn tried to go down fighting.” I paused because I suddenly couldn’t breathe around the thickness in my throat. “The last time she saw her father alive, she threatened to kill him if he came after them again. She might not have wanted Connor to ever come back, but I bet she was always secretly sure that he would. I was sure, regardless of how many times our dad left. I used to hold my breath, mentally psyching myself up to do battle with my personal motherfucking dragon… And I did until our mom died and Connor and I finally moved out. Addie doesn’t get that kind of closure.”

“Maybe not, but closure isn’t black and white, Sarge. It all depends on the situation and context. Connor continued the circle of violence your dad started. You’re endin’ it by bein’ here and lovin’ them as clearly as you do. That’s closure on that one clusterfuck. The rest can be worked through slowly, so long as… you’re here… in every possible way.”

The emphasis A.J. put on that word, combined with the subtle tilt of his head, made my brow arch. Max had asked him to come here, so I had a pretty good idea about all the possible important selling points of his pitch to make A.J. drop everything and come down here.

“Guess you talked to Max.’

“Max is my closest compadre beside you, so yeah, we talk. And sometimes it’s even about you.”

“Just ask what you want to ask, A.J.”

As much as A.J. like to bullshit, there were times when charm and clever words didn’t have a place. Sometimes, only someone who’d been with you through the toughest shit, could be as blunt as situations like this merited.

“Do I have to worry about findin’ anythin’ in your room that would result in a second name and death date being added to Connor’s headstone to save the cost of engravin’ a second one with the exact same date of birth? I mean under other circumstances, like being taken out in action all ride or die, I’d have personally paid for the very best for you, Sarge. But if you pussy out and leave the rest of us behind because you were too full of fuckin’ pride to ask for the help you know we’d all offer without any hesitation, then all you deserve is to get tossed on top of Connors pile of ashes. Max and me, we might even piss on your grave at that point. A two for one special for the brothers Trammell.”

He was serious. More serious than I’d probably seen him be in years. The only thing he was possibly joking about was pissing on my grave if I committed suicide, but we both knew he couldn’t promise me that Max wouldn’t. We both knew how Max could be when he was pushed too far, and all niceties were off the table.

His parents had given him an expensive wristwatch when he’d finished his residency program. Not quite in the territory of a Rolex, but still upper echelon. I’d “borrowed” it I’d for a few days so that I could get the back engraved with one of his favorite self-identifying slogans— ‘Do no harm. Take no shit.’

The phrase been appropriate then. It still was.

I met A.J.’s gaze steadily. “Max took all of my bullets before I left Afghanistan. The only thing I still had until this morning that wasn’t great for my health, was the whiskey left in my flask. I emptied that out in the bathroom when I changed into jeans after getting home today.”

“Good. Because I really didn’t want to have to try and kick some Devil Dog ass just because you were bein’ stupid.”

“With all the new bulk you’re sporting, and the fact that I’m still hungover, the odds would probably be in your favor.”

A.J. preened, curling his bicep to press a kiss to the hard, tatted muscle. He ignored the rude sound I made.

“Hey, we can’t all naturally be built like we’re related to Greek gods. I have to keep up with the people I hire. I mean shit, Sarge. Some of these kids comin’ in, they make me glad I’m stupidly overconfident in any, and all things I put my mind to. If Max ever retires, I should try and hire him. I’d be getting’ a top-tier doctor who knows what he’s doin’, and can weed out the ‘roid heads from the naturally gifted, and hard-workin’. He’d have access to a lot of good lookin’ first and last dates who have very accomodatin’ beliefs about southern hospitality. Everyone wins.”

We chuckled in unison. A.J. sobered first.

“Just so you know, I’ve never seen him like that before.”

“Who?”

“Max. He was frantic man. Called me up as soon as your flight took off from Afghanistan. He said he’d searched through all your shit, and he was 90% sure he’d found all the ammunition you’d hoarded, but it was killin' him that he couldn’t come with you to Florida. He was rattled, Sarge, and I’ve never seen that motherfucker scared about anythin’ before.”

I had, though the memory was fuzzy because it’d been in the hospital after I was almost killed on that night my team had been ambushed. I’d never seen that same level of open-faced panic in Max's expression again, but it’d been telling on a level I’d wanted to believe would change everything between us, since we'd been together monogamous for eight months after that.

It hadn’t.

“I know that he’d have gotten on that plane with me if he could,” I said quietly. “But now that he was shot, I’m assuming he’ll get down here as soon as all the red tape is handled, and he sees his mom. If Vera finds out second hand that he was hurt, she’d take us both out and probably you as well, simply for the sin of knowing before she did.”

“Southern women are a helluva scary breed,” A.J. agreed. “As far as Max goes, we might pass one another like ships in the night with a few days overlap if we’re lucky. But either way, I promised him that I wouldn’t leave until I was sure you were solid.”

“I can’t say I’m solid, not yet, but I can say that I have three really good reasons to work towards that goal.”

“Six.”

I offered A.J. a quizzical look. He was all teeth and amusement as he held up both hands like Emma had done in the kitchen, tucking down one finger at a time as he counted.

“Six. Sofia, Adelyn, Emma, Max, me, and the surprisingly sexy, sexy Father Benjamin Santiago.”

I rolled my eyes, but we both knew I wasn’t fooling anybody. We were sitting in the shade under the overhang of the front porch, but I could still feel the heat in my ears. He was facing me so he could damn well see the color that came and went too often to be played off as a sunburn.

“So, Sarge, A.J. said, his grin escalating from mischievous to a wide, shit-eating one. “How did your overnight adventure go? Did Father Ben really see you for the guy you are under all the cobwebs? Did he help you find heaven?”

He waggled his eyebrows when I neatly rotated my right wrist neatly, so he got properly flipped off. “We didn’t sleep together. He just brought me to his place yesterday so that the girls and Sofia wouldn’t see me so fucked up. I showered at his place alone, then changed into the clothing he leant me while we tossed mine into the wash. Then we talked. That’s it.”

Lies.

A.J.’s snort called me out even before he said anything. “I’ve always followed you down every blind corner I had to because I trusted you more than anyone else on this planet, Sarge, but to quote the lovely Mrs. Melone, and every good southern lady I’ve ever met, includin’ all of the female harpies in my own family, don’t piss on my leg and say it’s rainin'. Ben kissed you goodbye.”

“On the cheek,” I pointed out, keeping my voice calm in a vain attempt to keep the heat in my cheeks from spreading.

A laugh burst out of A.J. as he waggled a finger at me like he was reprimanding a naughty child. “He kissed you on the cheek in public,” he corrected. “In a public that included your family, so that baller move tells me that wasn’t the first kiss you shared. Just the only one you’re willin’ to talk about, which of course makes me wonder where the other ones went.”

I lost the war with my blush, feeling my cheeks and even my throat heat when A.J. offered me a meaningful, and not-at-all subtle once over that remained in the vicinity of my crotch before he whistled low. “Reaaallllly??? It went down like that?”

I’ve never been one to kiss and tell, mostly because I’d had to hide who I was, so the only one who ever got my filthiest confessions was Max. But A.J. was assuming a lot that never actually happened. For some stupid reason, I wanted to protect Ben from anyone getting the wrong idea about him, so I gave A.J. the condensed, Cliff Notes version, starting with how Ben and I’d talked for hours last night. I gave him only the necessary highlights about our mini make-out session in the kitchen, concentrating more on how I’d felt when he’d kissed me till I nearly forgot to breathe. It was less explicit than a play-by-play, but also more telling. I knew that, but I confessed anyway.

Finally, I filled in all the blanks that Max’s deep dive had brought up. By the time I’d finished, my monologue that culminated with the fact Ben had been a high-priced escort before he became the compassionate, priestly man with passionate tendencies directed my way, A.J. had stopped teasing me.

His eyes were wide and when he whistled again, this time it was more in appreciative approval than mischief. “Ok, so, yeah. That’s a whole lot to digest, but in a hot DAYUM way. Have you told Max about Bens’s past incarnation?”

“No. I just found out before we got here. Please don’t say anything to Ben. He’s not ashamed of it, but he doesn’t exactly consider it a crowning glory of achievement either.”

“You know I won’t say anythin’, Sam. We all have our secrets. I’m just tickled pink that I actually learned somethin’ juicy about your life before Max did. But if I were you, I wouldn’t tell him that you told me first. He’ll get pissy. Sometimes he forgets that sharin’ is carin’ when it comes to you.”

A.J. grinned like a school-age kid who’d won the grand prize of being first in line to return to the classroom to get back to work after recess was over.

He wasn’t wrong though. Max probably would be slightly miffed that I hadn’t told him first, because he was always the first person I confided in. But in my defense, A.J. was here. Max wasn’t. My mind glossed over the fact that I wasn’t sure yet how much I wanted to share with my best friend about whatever was possibly happening between Ben and me. Max had encouraged the potential relationship, but it still felt awkward. I’d cut my own throat before I called this a love triangle, but I couldn’t deny that I still had feelings for Max despite beginning to form new ones for Ben.

“I’ll tell him eventually, probably in person when he gets down here.” At which point I’d hopefully have a better grasp on who fell into what column of my feelings; new and passionate, with unknown promise, or platonically passionate and comfortable due to a long history.

“That makes sense. He probably wants to vett Ben himself, even though he sent me to get the lay of the land and see whether I was yay or nay.”

“Max already said that I should give Ben a shot.”

“I know he did, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t want to make sure that the person you’re givin’ a shot to, is worth it. Despite all his crazy, Max he loves you. If he’s goin’ to let you go off and live happily ever after with someone, he’ll want to know it’s really goin’ to be a happy endin'.”

I arched an eyebrow, just staring at A.J for a moment. There seemed to be more to that statement than there should’ve been, because A.J. knew all about my friends with benefits situation with Max, and that it had always been Max’s choice not to be monogamous past those 8 months that we'd never actually labeled. I wanted to pry, but Pandora had been bitten hard in the ass when she opened her box, so I left this one alone for now. I had other questions to ask anyway.

“What was that in the kitchen before?”

“What was what?”

“You know what.”

To his credit, A.J. didn’t play stupid. He shrugged as he offered a smile, almost absently thumbing the knee of his jeans where his foot was still propped on the swing bench. “Sofia’s great. She’s smart, beautiful, and though she’s been through some serious shit, she’s still standin’. That’s sexy in and of itself. But you know I’d never cross the line, Sam. I teased her just because I wanted to see her smile. Doesn’t seem like she does a lot of that.”

“She doesn’t,” I agreed. “At least not to anyone outside of our family. But you got more than one out of her, which puts you ahead of the curve.”

He was watching me carefully now. Unlike Max who had to be in constant motion, A.J. had mastered the art of sitting perfectly still when he was thinking or waiting.

Patient.

Disciplined.

“And… you’re ok with that?”

I didn’t have to consider the question for more than a few seconds before I nodded. “If she’s alright with it, and you guys are on the same page as far as the longevity of whatever you may start lasting only until you go home to Alabama, then yeah, I’m okay with it. Just keep it as discreet as possible so the girls don’t get mixed signals.”

A.J. nodded in agreement.

“I know you’d never hurt her, man. And sometimes everyone needs to feel they’re seen.”

“That’s very philosophical of you, Sarge. Looks like Ben is rubbin" off on you.”

A.J. grinned, and the swing rocked hard when it was robbed of his weight as he abruptly got to his feet.

I felt my brow hitch. “Where are you going?”

“Back to my hotel real quick. I want to make two short phone calls back to the office since I’m workin’ from home so to speak. Just text me the address, or name of the mall, and I’ll meet you guys there.”

We hugged goodbye quickly, not because we had macho hangups about touching, but because he had calls to make and I had kids to organize. A.J. murmured, “nice shirt,” before he headed out to his sleek black SUV rental. I waved him off when he pulled out of the driveway, then headed back inside. The house was surprisingly quiet, indicating the kids were probably still upstairs. Without the hustle and bustle—slamming doors and all—the house felt empty. It was amazing how accustomed I'd become to the chaos.

Adelyn's voice suddenly floated down from the upstairs, the thump of her footsteps adding angry percussion overhead. “Emma, I told you not to touch my things!”

“I didn’t touch your dumb bag, Addie!” Emma’s face was twisted with as much irritation as I heard in her sister voice, when she appeared seemingly out of nowhere from the direction of possibly the living room. She came over to stand near me and I offered her a sympathetic smile.

She’d changed her entire outfit instead of just her grubby t-shirt. She was wearing black shorts and a sunny yellow tank top striped with thin black lines. The combination made her look a bit like a bee, but it went with both her hair ties and the annoyed, buzzing energy she was giving off.

“What are we looking for?”

“Addie’s dumb purse. I didn’t touch it. I have mine,” Emma said. She around so I could see the small, teddy bear backpack she had slung over her narrow shoulders.

My gaze panned from her to the direction of Adelyn’s voice. "I think I saw you throw your bag in the dining room when you came in yesterday, Addie," I called out.

Adelyn didn't answer, but a few minutes later, she popped into the kitchen with her now recovered bag slung over one slim shoulder.

Like Emma, she’d changed her entire outfit. It was a far cry from the relatively tame black t-shirt and jeans she’d been wearing earlier. A sheer, long sleeved white tee shirt over a white cami and denim shorts—made shorter by the sky-high heels on her wooden sandals—were appropriate for the weather, but too hot for my peace of mind.

Oh, hell no.

"I’m ready to go.”

“So am I, as soon as those shorts either magically grow about three inches, or you revisit your earlier jeans situation. I’d even take the unicorn t-shirt that told me to go scratch.”

Her eyes narrowed. I could almost physically feel her weighing her options, trying to decide on her optimal plan of attack. Unfortunately for her, my conversation with A.J. had reinvigorated my protective instincts. I wasn’t her father, but I was the man in her life bound by both blood and love for her wonderfully wretched self, who was willing to make some tough calls if they were in her best interest.

I ignored her outrage when I spotted the car keys I’d left on the counter and grabbed them first when she lunged. I tucked them into my pocket as she seethed.

"I know how to drive.”

“Awesome. So do I, and I will, as soon as you change your pants. Unless you’re planning on taking us on a detour to a nightclub before we meet A.J. at the mall. It’d explain the outfit."

Adelyn's cheeks flushed hot pink. "This is how non-millennials with a stick up their a-, butt dress,” she amended, reluctantly, but quickly enough to mollify me. “It's called cool."

"Ah." I nodded. "Lemming syndrome. Gotcha. Go change." I held out my hand to Emma, bending low in a bow that set her giggling. "After you, Madame."

She bowed back and giggled. "Addie's dressed up for her booooyfriend," she sang.

"Shut up, Emma!"

And just like that, the unknown boyfriend popped up again like an unwanted Whack-A-Mole.

"Watch the language," I warned. "And who’s this boyfriend?"

Adelyn glared at Emma, then turned her hostility back on me, full force, blue eyes blazing with the fury of Satan’s right hand.

"Jake's not my boyfriend, just a guy I hang out with sometimes."

"Mami doesn't like him," Emma volunteered. "He smokes."

And the plot thickens.

"Cigarettes," Adelyn cut in. "He's allowed. He's in college."

"And he's dating a seventeen-year-old?" I could feel my own eyes narrowing. A college kid's hormones and my teenage niece didn't fly with me, especially if Sofia didnt like him. A.J. would be running the damn background check. I just needed to get a last name for Jake.

"Chill out, Uncle Sam. He's a freshman.”

"I want to meet this Jake kid."

"No way!"

"Why not? He's a good kid, right? Only smokes cigarettes? What's wrong with me saying a friendly hello to Jake…?" I waited for Adelyn to supply me with a last name. I wasn’t surprised when she didn’t, but Emma was always helpful.

“His name is Jake Barnes, like the bookstore.”

Bingo. God bless nosy little girls.

“Emma! This is some bullsh—" Adelyn trailed off, catching herself again when my eyebrow cocked and held in silent warning.

"Hey, you're the one who pointed out I dropped the ball on being part of your family because I haven’t been around. This is me being relevant."

“You’re being a jerk about this.”

“The fantastic thing about adults, is that we’ve absorbed the whole sticks and stones adage into our bone marrow. I love you kiddo. But you’re wasting time, because we aren’t leaving this house till you get some appropriate clothes on. If you’re going to get dressed up for a guy, wear things that make him use his imagination a little.”

I couldn’t end a kid over his private thoughts if they stayed in his damn head and he kept his hands to himself.

"Now you're worried about how guys see me? It’s been five years. I’m not a kid anymore, Uncle Sam, so this is some serious BS, " Adelyn snapped.

That stung, but I sucked up the truth. "Growing up lesson number one kiddo; try to learn from the mistakes of others. I need to get some shopping done anyway, and your mom asked me to take you guys to the mall, so that’s the game plan. A.J. is going to meet us there, so we need to get moving. Emma and I won't crowd you or your friends. We'll do our own shopping, and then you can do your thing for a couple of hours while the rest of us grab ice cream or a matinee if anything half decent is playing that Emma can watch. Just text me on my cell when you're ready to go home."

I watched for rolling eyeballs as Adelyn finally huffed her way towards the staircase, her wooden heals clicking in angry staccato on the tile floor. "This is retarded. I'm not some little kid you need to drive around. Jake can drive me home."

Yeah, that wasn’t happening.

"Really? I guess I missed that memo when you stomped your foot like that."

"Whatever." The time-tested answer for all teen problems was hurled at me with contempt. "I’ll change, but when we get to the mall you have to drop me off at the corner. Same for pickup. I don't need some soldier guy freaking out my friends."

I looked down at my faded blue jeans and borrowed tee shirt that I hadn’t realized till now, had a faded outline of what looked vaguely like… Cookie Monster? For Christ’s sake. No wonder A.J. had commented on it. I’d apparently been more focused on the fact the material smelled like Ben than the fact I was walking around in a vintage ode to Sesame Street. God forbid the man with cartoon Muppets on his shirt, his dignity in the toilet, and a hangover that still would not quit, be allowed to say hello to impressionable teens.

"I'll be wielding an ice cream cone, a seven-year-old, and the other former soldier guy you had no issues with earlier. Everyone likes A.J., ice cream and Emma. They can take or leave me for all I care, but it’s still a combination that I highly doubt will send anyone running away screaming."

"Fine. I'm just not going to go!"

"Whoa, slow down. I already told you I'll give you space. Relax, Addie."

"I'll relax when you go back to Afghanistan," she snapped. "Go kill babies or something."

I felt a sudden burst of heat rise in my ears, slowly going deaf as my senses were overloaded. I’d known she’d eventually throw down hard when I pushed back and played the responsible adult card, but I hadn’t expected that. Before I could say something I'd regret, Emma's little voice cut in.

"No!" We both turned to look at her as she said it again. Fists curled beneath her chin in small balls. "I want Uncle Sam to stay! Don't be mean because you're sad, Addie!"

Adelyn’s spine stiffened and her left hand tightened around the bottom post of the staircase. I was too far to actually tell, but judging by that death grip, her knuckles were probably turning white. "I'm not sad! Dad's dead because he was a shitty human being and he"— She pointed a black polished finger at me—"is just like him."

"Hey," I protested, my voice harsher than I liked considering Emma was in the room and I could feel her anxiety. "You don't know the first thing about me, kid. I'm trying to fix that. But if we turn every talk into a fight, that's never going to happen."

"I don't want to talk. I want you to leave."

"NO!" Emma shouted it this time, a tiny warrior with eyes blazing as she planted herself between her sister and me, in her full queen bee glory. "He's staying, because he promised. Right, Uncle Sam?"

I felt Emma's small hand slide into mine, and my voice gained the confidence it had lacked when I’d spoken to both Ben and A.J. earlier. "I'm staying, Addie, so we'll both have to learn to deal. Period. The end. Go change your shorts because your mom is expecting a summer fashion show when she gets home. Scoot."

I expected retaliation, not the trembling of Adelyn's lower lip. She turned away, but not before I saw her eyes well with tears. I sighed as she stalked upstairs. The angry slam of her bedroom door was my reward for this hard win.

"That went well," I muttered, looking down at Emma, who stood rigid at my side. "What flavor ice cream should we get, gorgeous? I'll even spring for a triple scoop."

"Strawberry with extra sprinkles? Or the unicorn one with all the colors that tastes like cotton candy.” Her hopeful look eased some of the tension in my chest, and I squeezed her gently until she relaxed into my hip.

"Sure. We'll go big with extra sprinkles. We can wait for Addie in the car to give her some time to cool down. She needs to rock some chilly penguin vibes or whatever lives in the cold that doesn’t have a crazy number of teeth."

Emma's giggles led us out way out the door and towards my rental which was parked in the street in front of the house. I glanced back at the house once I had Emma buckled into her booster seat in the back. I wasn’t sure if I’d have to go and get Adelyn because I doubted it took that long to change one part of her outfit, but as I watched, her slim form appeared in her bedroom window. My niece made sure I had a clear view of her before she flipped me off with gusto, using both hands. Then she popped out of sight. She reappeared a few minutes later. I’d gotten only down to 80 after I’d started counting backward under my breath from one hundred. In Farsi.

The unicorn t-shirt was back, but a bright blue skater skirt and her vans had replaced her previous outfit. The skirt was short, but it covered her ass, and the hem was only three or four inches above her knees, so it would do. Choosing your battles was adulting 101.

***

As I looked around the crowded mall that was almost as overwhelming as the Orlando airport between shoppers happily having conversations at varying octaves, and the medley of scents floating out of the food court whenever one of the stores the girls wanted to stop at was close to it, I found it difficult to remember I'd agreed to this circle of hell. When I was stationed in Afghanistan, there had been a lot of open-air markets in the towns and villages we patrolled. Most of the time they were relatively friendly zones, but that had never meant being able to completely let your guard down. Warzones were always unpredictable, even when they were quiet. Your world could go from sugar to shit in the blink of an eye, turning your everyday background noise of cheerful shop owners and customers haggling, into the screams of innocent bystanders as gas masks were frantically distributed haphazardly by supporting civilian teams if we were lucky during a gas strike. If we weren’t, it could be a blind firefight, or a storm of body parts, and copper tasting carnage raining down on us as a homemade bomb vest tore the wearer, and anyone unfortunate enough to be close to them, apart.

I was currently standing in an air-conditioned shopping mall in suburban Florida, where most people were walking around in clothing that left little to the imagination so I could tell most of them weren’t armed, even though it was a concealed carry state. There was no reason for me to feel like I was a minute away from breaking out into a cold sweat. I didnt have to keep turning to look sharply over my shoulder every time an extra loud burst of shrieking laughter from groups of teenage kids broke out, or a baby started to cry. I was safe. The girls I was here with were safe. They had me, and they had A.J. I wasn’t armed, but I knew he always was. He was also currently having a very deep conversation with Emma about the different fairy powers that were coolest to have.

Breathe, Sam.

I exhaled slowly. It would’ve been better if we’d gotten here just as the mall had opened at 10am, but it was well past noon at this point. We’d had to park a ridiculous distance from the mall entrance, and people packed every store like they hadn't gotten the memo that there were still more shopping days left in the calendar year. I'd never been an avid shopper, but a mall on the weekend increased my appreciation for doing it all online. I was tempted to close my eyes for a moment to orient myself, but blocking out visuals didn't help with the noise levels, and I didn’t want to take my eyes off Emma for even a moment.

Fortunately, we were done with shopping, which had been an ordeal in and of itself. I’d finally handed off the hot potato that was Adelyn, to A.J. to handle, since he had nieces ranging from age two to twenty-one. There were some benefits to being the youngest child in a family of eleven. One of them, was being able to hang out with your adult nephews and nieces to get some insight into the inner workings of youth that you thankfully forgot most of as you got older, and occasionally wiser.

I’d taken Emma shopping when A.J. and Addie had gone off together to complete their own shopping mission. He’d waved away my offer of the cash Sofia had given me. I’d told him I’d pay him back later, and he’d grinned and winked at me conspiratorially. I got the message. If he was using his own money, he still had veto powers over Adelyn’s wardrobe choices, but he'd probably do it in a more charming and diplomatic way than I could. It was all good as far as I was concerned.

Shopping with a seven-year-old had been easy because Emma was cute, and just happy to be alive and spend time with me. We’d gotten more than a few appreciative smiles whenever we’d passed women who were probably thinking anything from the wholesome, ‘aww, look how happy she is with her daddy,’ to the thirstier, ‘he seems like a good dad, but I don’t see a ring. I wonder if he’d good in bed despite that ridiculous shirt.’ I just returned the smiles when I happened to catch their eyes, because I didn’t want to come off as a dick. Otherwise, I kept my focus on Emma until we had finished an hour-long excursion. We’d done some reasonable damage to my credit card, and ended up with several bags filled with cute, Uncle Sam approved clothing for her, as well as a floppy straw hat, and two pairs of sunglasses because the same Uncle Sam was a sucker for her puppy dog pout. One pair was shaped like pink hearts. The other was a more classic style, though the frame was iridescent. Considering that neither pair was prescription, I didn’t let her wear them around the mall, but I compromised by promising her a beach day where she could switch out between both of them to her heart’s content.

We’d also managed to grab another pair of sneakers and jeans for me, and two pairs of pants close enough to my preferred, tactical BDU style to satisfy me. One was a khaki color, the other light gray in a relatively lightweight material appropriate for the summer heat. I’d picked out two packages of plain t-shirts for myself; one black set and one white, because they went with anything. I’d also snagged one pack of black tanks, and another of white for the same reason. I liked minimalism. A spartan lifestyle appealed to me, because everything having a place meant organization. Organization was the opposite of chaos, which was what Connor and I had been raised around. My brother had reveled in it. I didn’t, preferring to know my game plan ahead of time. At the very least, I had control over basic outfits and a room that still looked exactly how Sofia had decorated it, except for the Beanie Babies that were on my bed, my clothing that was in the drawers, and the few toiletries I had in the bathroom. I was good with that.

Emma wasn’t. Which was why in addition to the plain t-shirts, there were also two vintage graphic tees in one of my bags. They’d been purchased at her insistence after she’d picked them out for me. I wasn’t a Star Wars nerd or into Marvel superheroes, but they were better than Cookie Monster, so I’d chalked them up to a necessary evil to keep her happy.

When we'd first arrived at the mall, I'd looked around, hoping to catch a glimpse of Adelyn’s horny hoodlum, but he’d wisely kept his whereabouts unknown, though I was pretty sure he’d been the one she’d been frantically texting with in the car.

By the time Emma and I met up with A.J. in the food court for a massive ice cream sundae with the promised extra sprinkles for Emma, and a single scoop of chocolate on a sugar cone for A.J., I was exhausted. But I was giving Adelyn—who’d gone off with a group of only friends comprised only of girls according to A.J.—another hour before I’d force her to check in with a phone call. If she ignored it, the friend finder app Sofia had told me was installed on her phone, would be activated. If that failed, there was always A.J., who could call his team and track her damn phone’s exact location. But before I went the scorched earth route, I settled for taking Emma to the carousel so she could ride her unicorn until it was time to wrangle Addie to head home.

Emma was smiling gleefully as her purple unicorn bobbed up, down, and around for her fifth ride. I’d have been nauseous at that point, but she was going strong. There were still smudges of strawberry ice cream on her mouth.

Beside me, A.J. had leveled out the scoop of chocolate on his cone so it wouldn’t tip, and was now sucking out the ice cream from the bottom after he’d bitten the tip off. I pressed my tongue to the left side of my mouth, lodging it against the underside of my molars because yeah, there were so many filthy places I could take that approach to that would scandalize most straight men if I’d teased them about it. Then again, this was A.J. He’d probably just cheerfully offer to give me some suggestions on how to use the cone to practice how to perfectly hollow your cheeks when sucking a hard cock, even though he’d never even touched a dick that wasn’t his own.

While I was pondering whether or not I was tired enough to open that can of words just to pass the time, my cell buzzed. Bouncing around in my jacket pocket must’ve set the volume to vibration only. When I pulled it out and checked my messages, Ben’s name was at the top.

Ben: Glad we had a chance to talk this morning. Wouldn't mind a repeat soon.

My thumb hovered over the message for a moment as I considered whether or not to answer it. A.J. decided for me when he peered over my shoulder.

“Oooh he didn’t even wait twenty-four hours. That boy means business.”

“Yeah,” I said. My teeth felt like they vibrated fromnny muffled growl before I sighed. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Keep it simple. Me too, is universal, especially when followed by an emoji. I’d go with the standard smiley for now, nothing sexy, though the shy one could work too.” He grinned, somehow managing to not smear ice cream anywhere on his face or clothing despite not using the napkins he’d been handed when he bought the cone.

“I’d never have pegged you for a blusher beneath all your layers of stoic badass. The hell dog has a big ol’ heart. Who knew?”

I ignored him as I contemplated my phone. “Ben wants something serious. I don’t know how to do serious. I could barely do one-night stands.”

“Well, it’s good to learn somethin’ new every day, so consider this your somethin’ new.” He slurped the remaining ice cream through his cone, then finally wrapped two of the thin napkins around the base so he could start eating the now empty cone from the top.

“I know you like him because you turn colors whenever I say his name. What’s the harm in givin’ it a try? Ben seems like a good guy, and he’s obviously willin’ to drop everythin’ to have your back. You know I approve of that. You guys spent hours talkin’, and you didn’t explode from the emotional share. You also promised to keep your ass on terra firma, and not self-ascend to the heavenly plane yet, so what’s the issue?”

“Aside from not having had sex with anyone other than sporadically with Max for at least a year and a half?”

“So, you’re havin’ performance anxiety because FBS is a former gentleman of nightly standin’?”

A.J.’s smile turned into a grin before he crunched his cone with cheerful gusto when I shot him a dirty look.

“No. Well, not really. He hasn’t been with anyone else in years so yeah, some of the stress is from wondering if he’ll be disappointed.” My brows pinched together. “Most of it's about Max and me.”

A.J.’s brow lifted and held. “You’re still in love with him?”

“I never fell out of love with him,” I said. “But it’s more about how easy sex is between us. Max and I have been doing this dance since we were sixteen years old. We know everything about one another so in…certain situations,” I said, lowering my voice and choosing my words carefully because of where we were, “it makes things easier. No talking about likes or dislikes, no awkwardness when the layers start coming off. No need to think about whether it’s going to be a long, slow walk of shame at the end, or a night spent deciding who’s going to be the little spoon.”

“Aww, Sarge, that’s all the good stuff. The butterflies in the tummy things are what turn into the best kind of fireworks once you get past the initial weirdness of getting naked with someone new who you like.”

“Says the guy who’s never gone out with the same girl more than three times.”

A.J. inclined his head a little, eyes crinkling as he carefully wrapped the remainder of his cone in the last of his napkins, then set it on the bench beside him to toss later when we passed a garbage can.

“Third time’s supposed to be the charm. It hasn’t been yet, so why force the issue? When I meet the right one, I’m goin’ to know it before that third date is even scheduled. That’s how it works in my family. My daddy said he knew my mom was the one after their first date when she told him she wouldn’t be sleepin’ with him until there was a ring on her finger, and they actually said I do. Since they were both seventeen at the time, and she’d already told him earlier in the evenin’ that she was plannin’ to get her bachelor’s degree before she settled down, that’s sayin’ somethin’ about the spark they felt. My siblings all have similar stories. Granted, sometimes the dates were months or even years apart because of missed connections, but they still always knew who their forever person was by the third date. Why the hell do you think I have so many damn nieces and nephews?”

He snorted as he leaned back more comfortably on the bench.

“Katie just had her second and third; fraternal twin boys. And yet again, neither one is named after the best uncle in the world, who also happens to be named after two kings.”

My amused look and subtle nod let A.J. know he could continue his rant after I shot a brief glance Emma’s way to make sure she was still on the unicorn.

“King Alexander, one of the greatest commanders of Greek armies. And of course, King James, for whom a bible is named after. So, you have your supremely pious, and your ultimate badass rolled into one. They’re twins. One could’ve been Alexander, and the other James with whatever stupid middle names Katie and John chose. No one will ever use them anyway, unless the kids have done some stupid shit and then every name they have comes out to haunt them. But do you know what she went with?”

I had no idea, but he was amped, so it had to be good.

“Arthur and Oliver. I mean Jesus H. Christ, Katie!”

“Arthur was a king with knights and a round table,” I pointed out, not caring that my grin was deepening despite the withering look A.J. cast my way.

“Grade school kids aren’t that well-read, Sarge. Arthur is going to end up as Artie. As in, Artie Fartie, or Fartie Artie, dependin’ if he takes after his dad who has IBS. And Oliver, shit, that’s all Olly-olly-oxen free! Almost as bad as Brian’s son Marco. Let’s hear it for Marco fucking Polo.”

My laughter abruptly rumbled free from deep in my chest, like a levee coming apart; a burst of natural force that had been held down for too long by getting stuck in my head with a million different lines of bullshit. For the first time since we’d arrived at the mall, I relaxed. “Well, when you settle down, make sure you convince your wife you want to raise kings. Unless you have girls. Then you’re screwed.”

He grumbled before the out turned into a slow sly smile. “Or if you and Ben decide to tie the knot one day and work that modern medical magic to have kids, you can make my dreams of a name legacy come true. Benjamin and Samuel are both biblical names, so throwin’ a James in there would make for a sweet family triangle.”

“That would entail me getting past actually texting him back,” I said. My self-derisive snort didn’t discourage A.J. in the slightest.

“That’s true. I guess it depends on whether you want to move turtle slow or shift gears in the other direction.”

“You mean accelerate instead of tap the breaks?” I considered those two options after he nodded, then rubbed the back of my neck with my left hand. “Ben initially seemed to want to take things slow, but then he kissed me last night and agains this morning and fuck.. the man can kiss... just ...FUCK… I'm so fucking screwed…”

A.J. was all teeth, gleeful as one of Satan’s minions. “Your head just about popped off?”

I nodded with a wry look. "Yeah, both of them."

A.J. looked delighted at my confession. His lips curled into a spine-melting grin that unlike Ben’s wide spectrum of smiles from sweet to sexy, had absolutely no effect on my libido.

“So maybe he just wants to be sure you’re all in before he hits that gas hard.”

The air in the mall suddenly seemed too thin and tight to get a good breath from as my brain launched into warp speed, imagining what might’ve happened this morning between Ben and me if we’d made a few different choices for things to play out differently…

Like if Ben’s hands had chosen to slide beneath my t-shirt to tweak my sensitive nipples, rolling them roughly between his fingers the way I liked, until they stiffened into peaks. I’d have begged him to explore them with his tongue and teeth until he shut me up with one of those long, drugging kisses that short-circuited any intelligent part of my mental wiring. Or maybe he’d have let his hands slide down the flat planes of my abs, following the V shaped cut of my hips into the front of my borrowed shorts, which had been so much looser at the waistband than my own jeans. Ben wouldn’t have had to worry about popping open a button one handed, or dealing with the extra layer of my boxer briefs with the snug elastic waistband, because his shorts had lain against my bare skin all night long, and into today until I’d changed at home. I’d been rock hard for him both last night and this morning, my cock curving up toward my own abdomen. I’d been leaking so heavily each time, that I was shocked the evidence of my arousal hadn’t left a wet spot on the fabric of my shorts. If Ben had slid off the island and dropped to his knees, his long, tan fingers digging into my hips to control the speed and tempo like I had no doubt he would, he’d have tasted me even before he did anything to make me spill down his throat…

I blinked as fairer toned fingers suddenly waved in front of my face, breaking me out my stroll down the erotic rabbit hole that was absolutely inappropriate in a crowded public mall.

My ears burned as A.J. smirked, those same long fingers flicking my shoulder. “Yeah, I’d definitely make it clear you’re into him, because one of you needs to ride it like they stole it. You’re practically leakin’ pent up sexual frustration.”

Before I could say anything, A.J. grabbed my phone out of my hand and got to his feet with rapid grace so he could tap out something on my cell. I swore and got up, abandoning our bags for a moment.

“Give me my fucking phone, A.J.”

A.J. ignored my grumbling, moving out of my way smoothly until he was close enough to the carousel that going after him would have made a scene. My need for control meant my anxiety over what he might be texting to Ben made my skin crawl, but there was also a certain kind of free-feeling exhilaration that this small part was out of my hands.

I forced a slow exhale as A.J. continued to type as a smile crept over his lips that looked too satisfied for my comfort. He kept typing while he retrieved Emma from the carousel once her ride was over. Then they walked back toward me together. He was holding her hand in his left. The right one, offered me my phone back, face up, so I could see the message string clearly.

Sam: Me too…

Ben: Really? And here I thought I’d have to concoct some elaborate plot with Sofia for us to just casually happen to be in the same place at the same time.

Sam: No… I’m just bad at this. But… I want to talk and maybe …the other stuff that went with the talking.

Ben: ??? Well... that can be arranged.

Sam: Good. I have to return your t-shirt.

My eye twitched when that sentence was followed by a cookie emoji. Ben had responded immediately.

Ben: You should keep it. I like it better on you than me. Come to the group tomorrow. We can go back to my place afterward and talk if you want to decompress and… maybe see about those other things that go with talking.

I swallowed hard. Oh, dear Lord.

Forget warp speed. I suddenly felt like this short, tech friendly conversation was being fueled by Superman infused high octane, with an electric charge that was shooting through my body with high voltage. It was terrifying and exhilarating at the same time. Like canon balling into the frigid waters like a proper human polar bear taking the plunge, instead of easing into a heated suburban pool, one toe at a time while you decided if diving in headfirst was wise when the safe slow dip was so much easier.

My nerves urged me to go the safe route, to somehow get myself out of this domino effect A.J. had started, and just wait for Max to get to Florida so we could sate this desire growing in my belly the way we best knew how.

Familiar.

Safe.

The only problem with that solution, other than Max still being in Afghanistan, was that Ben made me feel those same two things even as he simultaneously made my pulse race. When I was with him, every nerve ending in my body told me that I didn’t need to wait for Superman, because Ben was equal parts Clark Kent and Man of Steel.

Jeeeeeeeeesus.

Sam: yeah… The group thing might be tough. I’m not the ‘open up and share’ type.

Ben: I know, but it’ll be ok. I’ll hold your hand.

I exhaled as I read the last text A.J. had sent.

Sam: I’ll be there.

I looked up at A.J. “You’re a D-I-C-K.”

“Nah, I’m a guy who always has your six. You needed a kick in the rear that I provided, because FBS definitely wants that part of you. Sarge.”

"Who were you talking to, Uncle Sam?"

I glanced down at Emma as I slid my phone into my pocket after discreetly flipping A.J. off by scratching my hairline with my middle finger. “Father Ben. He just wanted to say hello.”

Her eyes brightened and I felt a chill like ice cubes flow down my spine even before she said. "Oh, you have to play with him tomorrow, remember? He said to remind you because you promised."

From the mouths of babes...

I leaned down to scoop her up onto my hip after thrusting most of the shopping bags at A.J. to hide the hard goosing I gave to his ribs when he laughed.