“Daniel wasn’t the only one,” Jax says in a quiet tone.
Daniel and Jax make eye contact, and a quiet moment passes between them before Daniel speaks up again. “Jax had it the same. Except—”
“I was one of the troublemakers.” Jax’s jaw is set, his eyes guarded.
“It’s understandable,” I say, giving him a kind look. “Most schools are designed for teaching large groups of students basic information, with everyone moving along at the same speed on the same trajectory. They aren’t as well suited for addressing individual needs, which means unfortunately, some students fall through the cracks. It happens on both sides of the coin — the ones struggling with lessons and the ones who aren’t challenged.”
Daniel raises his chin toward me. “Precisely. So, when the Army saw the undeveloped talent and my pension for data engineering, they wanted to send me to college.”
“Through the ROTC program?” Zoey asks.
“Yeah.”
I lift an eyebrow. “I don’t take you as a buzz-cut, squat thrust kind of guy.”
He purses his lips and gives a curt shake of his head. “I wasn’t. It didn’t work out well. None of it.”
Trigg passes him the roast chicken, and Daniel places a large chunk of chicken breast on his plate before continuing. “I couldn’t sit through the lectures, the underclassman work was mind-numbing, and I was getting dinged left and right for insubordination during the ROTC training. I dropped out end of second year.”
Zoey hands me the stuffed squash, and I carefully move one to my plate, making room between my mashed potatoes and green beans. “They let you do that? The Army, that is — after paying your way?”
“Yes and no. College was more of a formality, so they were willing to let that slide if I agreed to do contract work. They’d let me go if I’d sign a two-year contract to install and implement software at discreet FOB’s in places like Afghanistan. That’s what they really wanted me for.”
“FOB’s?” Zoey asks.
“Forward Operating Bases. They’re pretty much fenced off camps in the middle of nowhere. All the infrastructure, electricity, and everything has to be able to run independently. It all gets shipped in by the government. The ones I helped set up were designed to provide support for special ops teams. They were remote posts, but I got to work with some very sensitive, top-secret surveillance and operational equipment. That’s when I met these guys,” Daniel says, spreading his hands at his friends around the table. “I had to keep coming back in to fix stuff because Gunner broke everything.”
“Hey,” Gunner mumbles around a mouthful of meatloaf. “It’s not my fault there was sand everywhere.”
“It really did wreak havoc with the equipment,” Trigg agrees.
“How did that transform into Pentabyte, though?” I ask.
“Jude and I spent a lot of time together, since he was running command and relying on me to keep everything operational. I even left the base with them a few times. Did you know he was one of the youngest majors in the force?”
“I didn’t.” That’s impressive. I glance at Jude, but he keeps his head down, focused on dishing out a serving of meatloaf.
“Rising star, that one,” Trigg says. “Guys just gravitated to him. You should have seen it. Got promoted up through the ranks quite quickly. He was a damn fine officer, and he ran one hell of a command center.”
“That’s why I couldn’t do it anymore.” Jude finally speaks up.
Zoey wrinkles her brow in confusion. “You couldn’t do it anymore because you were so good at it?”
“Kinda, yeah.” He pulls at his ear before continuing. “I was still real young, and I wanted to be out in the field with my men, doing what I was trained to do. But after I accepted the major’s commission, it was all desk work and filing mission reports. I rarely was allowed to take part in any of the missions in a physical way. All I ever did anymore was sit in the command center.”
“I’m glad you went out on that last one,” Trigg says.
“Gunner would have trekked across half of the Middle East to get you out of there.”
“Damn right.” Gunner sends a toothy grin over to his roommate, and there’s a modest silence before Daniel clears his throat and continues.
“Jude mostly stuck at the base with me,” Daniel says. “What we were doing was all cutting edge and exciting for me, but Jude? I could tell it was burning him up not being out there with his men, especially when...”
Daniel trails off, and there is another moment of silence. Some of the guys shift uncomfortably and others eat quietly, their eyes down.
“Especially when there were casualties,” Jude says finally. “Worst damn part of the job, being so far from my men when shit went south.”
Gunner takes a breather from wolfing down his food. “But you held us together, boss.”
Jude slugs Gunner hard on the shoulder, and they give each other a tight, brief smile. Once again, I admire how much these guys can communicate without saying a word.
Daniel speaks up from the end of the table. “So, when we both started talking about what we wanted to do after our contracts were up, I asked if Jude would come on board with my software plans. I didn’t want to do team management, but Jude is great at that. And hell, he picked up on the tech stuff like a natural — he’d helped me a lot at the base since he liked to stay busy when we were out there. I knew we’d be a good fit.”
“And Trigg and Gunner?” Zoey asks.
Jude smiles from across the table, but Daniel is the one who explains. “Never leave a man behind. Those three had a special bond over their years of service. Trigg is the moneyman. Him and Gunner already had an online business going back then. They were making more money than Jude and I ever did, thanks to Trigg’s smart investments. So, he was a shoe-in for being in charge of the books, and Gunner, I dare say that man can sell anything to anyone. Pentabyte never would have gotten off the ground if it weren’t for his marketing skills.”
I look over at the guy mounding a second helping of mashed potatoes on his plate then back at Daniel, a dubious expression on my face.
“Seriously,” he tells me. “The man could sell manure to a cattle farmer. No one was biting my proposals until he came onboard.”
“Where does the twin-power come in?” Zoey asks, her eyes flitting across the table to Jax.
“He was a bit of a wild card, but we finally convinced Jax to join us, and that made the team complete.”
I take a swallow of wine and nod at Jax. “And you’re the… what? CIO? What is that?”
“Chief Information Officer. It’s about as exciting as it sounds, but I like it. It’s good, steady work.”
“So, you were in the military, too?”
I watch Jax carefully at Zoey’s question. I’d asked him a nearly identical question on the rooftop at the Gala the first night we met. He was really vague with me then. I’m curious what he’ll say now.
Across the table, Jax looks up from a bite of meatloaf. He chews quietly for a few seconds, his eyes trained on Zoey and I. “No. I’ve been in the tech field ever since high school. Nothing formal.”
“You mean it was just part time work or…?” Zoey asks, reaching for a refill of Pinot.
Jax pauses with another forkful of meatloaf halfway to his mouth then puts his fork down. He rubs his chin for a moment, staring at me, his eyes searching my face, deciding something. Beside me, Zoey tips the wine bottle and pours herself another glass.
Finally, Jax replies, his gaze fixed on me. “It means Pentabyte is the first corporate job I’ve held. I got by before on... well, let’s just call it freelance work. Some of it, I’m not too proud of. But, my work here is making me a better man.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Zoey glance at me, but I can’t bring myself to break eye contact with Jax. I have a good idea what he’s talking about. It’s the dark devil that whispers to all of us in the industry at one point or another, the pull of black hat work where ethical
lines are crossed but money and freedom reign supreme. The way he’s looking at me — that firmness in his jaw, the questioning in his eyes — he wants me to know, to understand.
Our intense stare is interrupted when Gunner nudges him to pass over the roast chicken. Jax hands Gunner the serving dish then picks up his wine glass, tipping it back to take a long swallow.
I return my eyes to my plate and cut a spear of asparagus into bit size pieces. Silence descends across the table as we all tuck into our feast. Jax is always a hard act to follow.
“How about you?” Daniel pipes up after a few beats, motioning at me. “Why did you pick software engineering?”
“Oh, nothing as interesting as you guys. I’m not that adventurous.”
Zoey lets out a snort. “Oh really? How about the time you hacked the university’s security mainframe to disable the electronic lock on the football team’s locker room?
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I say, feigning innocence as I ladle some more gravy on my mashed potatoes.
“Riiight. And I suppose we didn’t sneak in and steal a bunch of monogrammed towels?”
That got Jude’s attention. “That’s where those came from?”
I poke at my meatloaf, embarrassed as hell. “That was highly illegal. I don’t do that stuff anymore, even as a joke.”
“So, that wasn’t you who broke into the hospital’s internal server and sent out an email to the entire building with a picture of Doctor Maxwell in a Batman thong?”
“Please tell me Doctor Maxwell is a woman,” Trigg interjects.
Zoey shakes in laughter. “No. Big hairy dude. Whitest ass cheeks you’ve ever seen.”
“I didn’t put his face in there,” Emma counters.
“Like everyone didn’t know it was him.”
“Well, he started keeping his hands to himself, didn’t he?”
Zoey gives me a big smile. “Yes, he did.”
I explain to the guys, “The email said, ‘Beware of Mr. Thong, he likes to grope women and pretend it was an accident’.”
Zoey gives a shiver. “Ugh! That guy was such a bastard.” She turns to me. “The ER nurses went in together and got you those cakes. Remember?”
Now I’m laughing, too. “Yeah, they had the picture from the email put on this big sheet cake, but none of us could stand to take a bite because it was just his giant hairy ass, you know? So, the next day they brought in a new cake, this time it was Batman in a thong.”
“That’s a much better visual,” Gunner says.
Zoey pauses. “Batman in a thong?”
Gunner shrugs, going for a third helping of mashed potatoes. “Yeah. Who doesn’t like tall, dark, and handsome?”
“I love tall, dark, and handsome,” Zoey says. “But Batman wears a mask. How do you know he’s handsome?”
He rolls his eyes. “Helloooo! Bruce Wayne. Wait,” Gunner says, placing his hands on the table. “You know Clark Kent doesn’t actually need glasses, right?”
Zoey giggles from behind her almost-empty wine glass.
“Please, continue,” Daniel says to my best friend as he rises from his seat. “Tell us more about our young entrepreneur’s devious ways. We need to know all the dirty details about Emma.”
“Well, in that case...” Zoey says, teasing me with a big grin.
I shoot her a shut-up look, but her eyes light up as Daniel returns to the table with another bottle of Pinot, and I know I’m so screwed.
21
Daniel
Gunner tucks into about his fourth serving of mashed potatoes — dessert, he says — but the rest of us are pushed back from the table, cloth napkins thrown on the table in defeat. We’re burning a few calories from all the laughter, though, as Zoey regales us with tales of Emma’s pranks.
“So, Doctor Stanley is convinced Nurse Adams is just having a panic attack, but we persuade him to hook up the leads from an EKG Emma had programmed.”
I lean both forearms on the table, loving how horrified and yet delighted Emma looks with both hands across her face, peeking out from them as her best friend continues the story.
“We get Nurse Adams hooked up to the machine,” Zoey says, “and it looks like she’s having a heart attack. Stanley freaks out, but everyone on the floor knows what’s going on. He’s issuing orders for supplies to be rushed in, then all of a sudden, the machine throws out all the signs Adams is having a seizure. She goes stiff — she’s playing it really well — and God, Doctor Stanley is yelling at the top of his lungs for a crash cart.”
The guys and I are all laughing as we picture the scenario playing out. “And everyone’s holding it together?” I ask.
Zoey swigs down the last of her Pinot Noir. “Oh, yeah, we’re all scrambling around, acting like it’s a genuine situation. So, just as Doctor Stanley’s warming up the defibrillator, the machine stops throwing alarms, Adams goes limp, and it looks like she’s just slipped into a deep coma. Stanley is standing there, his mouth open, paddles in hand,” she holds her hands up, acting out the scene, “when the machine peeps and reads completely normal vitals. Adams sits up, says ‘Thank you very much, Doctor, I feel much better’, and walks out of the room.”
“He had to have known at that point,” I say, my mouth hanging open.
Zoey shakes her head. “No, it took a while. He just stood there, holding the paddles, staring at the machine — and that’s when Adams came back in with a huge cake and we all shouted, ‘Happy Retirement!’”
Gunner claps his hands together and rocks back in his chair with laughter. “That’s great!”
Emma’s hands are still across her face, but I can see a smile playing on her lips. “If it hadn’t already been his last day, that stunt would have pushed him into retirement, I know it.”
Trigg is still chuckling as he points at Gunner. “This guy is our prankster. If you two ever team up, we’re in trouble.”
“Are we done embarrassing me yet?” Emma asks.
“Embarrassing? This is good stuff,” I assure her.
Nonetheless, Zoey pushes back her chair and rises to her feet. “Yes, I suppose I’m done torturing you, for now. I have the early shift tomorrow, and it is past my bedtime.”
Emma gets up, too, and that’s the signal for the rest of us to jump into motion as well.
“Better get these dishes taken care of before everything starts caking on,” Jude says, and the guys and I begin grabbing things off the table.
Zoey reaches for her own plate, but I scoop it up before she can get her hands around it. “Go on and get some sleep,” I tell her. “We can take care of this.”
“Are you sure?” She hesitates, but the weariness is already setting into her eyes. The night has continued much later than we had originally planned. She turns to look at Emma.
“Go to bed.” Emma’s voice is kind but firm. “We can clean up, here. I’ll stay behind to help.”
Trigg barely has his mouth open to protest before Emma cuts him off. “I’m not letting you guys do it all. I’m gonna help.” She gives a no-nonsense look around the table, and we all silently acquiesce.
“Alright, well, don’t stay out too late.” Zoey says, turning away from the table, but I still see the wink and nudge she gives Emma, and the resulting blush on Emma’s beautiful features.
Something about Zoey’s gesture and the slightly-flustered expression Emma has excites me, infusing me with energy. We all say our goodbyes to Zoey and quickly turn our focus onto bussing the mess from the table into my kitchen. Emma is enveloped in the center of the kitchen as we all get to work. It’s a large area, but five big guys take up a lot of space, and we have to watch out from bumping into one another, but I love having all the guys here, and Emma’s company is the icing on the cake.
Jax places a hand low on Emma’s hip as he positions himself next to his brother, dishtowel in hand. “Can I squeeze in here?”
Emma swallows, and she practically seems to break into a sweat at Jax’s touch. “Sorry. I
want to help, but I don’t want to get in the way if you guys have some sort of routine worked out.”
“You’re definitely not in the way,” Jude assures her.
Jax dips low, hands gripping her at both hips, and she squeals in surprise and delight as he sets her on the counter next to him. “Right there is a great spot. I’ll hand the dishes to you, and you sort and stack them, then hand Daniel’s stuff over to him, and he’ll put them away.”
There’s no way all of this is going to fit in my dishwasher, so Jude already has one side of the sink full of warm, sudsy water, and Trigg takes over the faucet, giving everything a good rinse before he hands them over to be scrubbed.
“Cleaning rag?” Gunner asks.
I place a steadying hand on Emma’s thigh and reach past her to the cabinet housing my dishcloths and kitchen towels. I feel the tension that comes into her muscles. I linger there for a moment, not wanting to pull my hand off her leg, and as I rifle through the cabinet, she leans close to me and inhales, taking a deep breath of my scent. She does it so subtly, she probably thinks I haven’t noticed, but the simple gesture sets me off, and I have to resist the urge to slide my hand further up her thigh.
I try to keep my head clear and push aside just how much Emma is enjoying all our attention, throwing a clean cloth to Trigg, who in return wets it with soap water and tosses it to Gunner.
The big guy heads over to wipe down my dining room table, and Emma hands me a set of plates, giving me a coy smile as she does. I make a special point to brush her fingers as I take the place settings, and her lips give just the barest hint of a tremble. She bites her bottom lip to keep it from quivering, but that playful, sexy look in her eyes is still giving her away. I let my gaze linger on her beautiful face for just a moment before I remind myself of my manners.
I turn and load the plates into their respective place, but goddammit, I can’t stop thinking about Emma’s full lips. I notice Jax does the same thing, brushing her fingers as he passes her a clean dish. She gives him that same delightfully coy smile, and it only gets my blood pumping all the more. I sure as hell want to touch her again, myself, to lean into her and taste those gorgeous lips. But I’d also love to just sit back and watch Jax kiss her. Watch him slip his fingers under the hem of her shirt and up that warm, smooth skin of hers, her spine arching into his touch.
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