Jack rocked his chair as he looked around the boardroom at DreamMakers. There was a warm spot of satisfaction in his gut, not only from being the first into the room for their weekly planning meeting and getting to pick his favorite chair. Nope. His happiness went a lot deeper than scoring the best seat in the room.
“You’d better get rid of that expression before Parker walks into the room if you know what’s good for you,” Dean said, plopping into the chair next to him.
“What expression?” Jack asked innocently.
Dean leaned forward, his eyes lighting up with amusement. “You look well fucked.”
He didn’t need to answer. Dean’s jealousy was obvious.
Especially when his friend double-checked to make sure they were still alone, then lowered his voice. “She’s a wildcat in the sack, isn’t she?”
“I’m far too much of a gentleman to kiss and tell.”
Dean made a rude noise. “Come on, just one little breadcrumb.”
Jack shook his head. “Why are you asking me for dirty details? I thought you had a hot date last night. Did something go wrong?”
His friend leaned back in his chair. “It was a little too clingy. She didn’t only ask about the next date, she wanted to know what my plans were for the fall.”
Kiss of death in a relationship with Dean. “I take it you told her you were liable to be going wheels-up at any time?”
“You know it. Bullshit on long-term planning.” Dean patted the leather boardroom table in front of him. “Only girl I’m interested in that far into the future is DreamMakers.”
“Married to your job?” Gillian strode into the office, her perfect posture carrying her to settle in the seat next to Dean. “Why, that doesn’t sound at all like you.”
“I’m very dedicated to DreamMakers,” Dean insisted vigorously.
“Uh-huh, I’m sure you are. As evidenced by your attention to detail and the sacrifices you make. Like going undercover into…” She glanced down at a card in her hand. “Enticing Massages by Merrill.” She grinned at Jack, ignoring the sputtering noises coming from Dean. “Good to see you again, sir.”
“Hey. How come he still gets a sir, and I don’t anymore?” Dean complained.
“Because you asked me not to call you that!” Gillian said in exasperation. She rested her elbows on the table as the DreamMakers staff slipped in one after the other. “Besides, I could never go back to calling you sir now that I’ve seen you naked.”
Didi jerked to a halt. The older woman was dressed entirely in neon, rainbow colors alternating from her bright orange sneakers all the way up to the garish pink bow in her hair. “Do I even want to hear this?”
“Do any of us want to hear this?” Parker asked with a frown. “Right now, I mean. I want to hear all the details later, but this is supposed to be a staff meeting.”
Dean shuffled uncomfortably in his seat. “It wasn’t anything important. The last recon we did had some complications.”
Jack’s curiosity was at an all-time high. “Are you blushing? My God, you are.” He glanced over at Gillian. “Okay, now you have to tell us. In the interest of staff well-being I need to know what happened.”
She seemed to be fighting laughter, and a part of him wished she’d let it loose. He suspected Gillian Reyes was a firecracker under her professional surface, which had been more or less confirmed by their other new hire Colby, who knew one of the men in Gillian’s former unit. Her old teammate claimed that Gillian had fit right in among the all-male crew, shooting the shit with the boys and drinking more than one of them under the table when the unit was on leave.
“It was a simple misunderstanding,” Gillian began with a barely restrained smirk.
“I really don’t think anyone needs to hear this.” Dean folded his arms and pouted.
“If I find out you’ve violated any DreamMakers rules and regulations, I will be very disappointed with you, young man.” Didi focused on Dean, her glasses perched on the tip of her nose as she glared down forbiddingly. “That’s why I gave you the easy pocket version of our most important commandments.”
The rest of the team had settled around the table, Pepper joining them. Jack couldn’t help but smile even harder. Her expression showed complete contentment, and he was the one who’d put it there.
The new guy, Colby, observed the interplay at the end of the table like he was watching a tennis match, his dark eyes bouncing back and forth, his shaved military haircut a mere buzz of black over his head. The tattoo covering one muscular arm stood out against his mocha skin, and he would’ve made a seriously deadly picture if not for the one line of ink at the bottom of the tat—the one that read Mom.
Jack liked the guy, whose charming smiles came fast and easy.
“I don’t know what I’m more curious about,” Colby said with a dimpled grin. “The pocket version of the rules, or how you ended up naked when you were supposed to be gathering recon on a librarian?”