Two weeks later – Monday morning
RYAN SHOULD’VE BEEN TIRED WHEN he walked into the Sniper 1 offices early Monday morning, but he wasn’t. Or maybe he was and he’d simply gotten used to the feeling after two weeks of practically no sleep. Thanks to the incident with Z when they were in Coyote Ridge, he couldn’t sleep anymore aside from a couple of fitful hours here and there. His conscience weighed on him, making him crazy, fearful that tomorrow Z would decide to tell Trace or Marissa or, hell, anyone what had happened between them.
That didn’t stop Ryan from going on with life, but it sure as hell didn’t make sleep any easier than it had been prior to that night. But it was Monday morning, time to get a new week started, and here he was, the first to arrive, as was usually the case. Granted, it had always been his choice to come in before anyone else had bothered to roll out of bed. That was his nature—work, work, work, then work some more. On top of that, he’d adopted the motto: early to rise, late to bed.
Regardless of how much sleep he’d managed, Ryan enjoyed that first hour or so of every morning in the office to himself. It gave him time to get things in order, sort out his thoughts, and have a cup of coffee or two.
This morning he’d stopped by Percolation—the coffee shop on the bottom floor of the building they worked in—and chatted with Ally, the sweet little owner, for a minute before heading up.
Now that he was there, the steady hum of anticipation churned in his veins. He was eager to get the week started, to get his mind off things that were better left alone—namely Z.
After flipping on the main lights on his way to his office, Ryan hit the button on the electronic panel that would open the blinds throughout the building. In no time, the sun would drown out the fluorescents, but until then, there’d be something to see by.
All the desks were empty, as were the other offices as he maneuvered down the narrow hall. Once he’d unlocked his office door, he set his coffee cup and his laptop on his desk, hit the power button, and eased into his chair. While he waited for the machine to boot up, Ryan glanced out the window, admiring the dimly lit concrete jungle that grew around him. Sometimes he wished for a more scenic view; other times, like now, the never-ending rows of buildings didn’t bother him. It was familiar. Comfortable even.
And today was a new day.
When he was turning back around to face his computer, he noticed the bright yellow Post-It note that had been taped to the phone on his desk.
Important assignment. Let’s talk first thing Monday.
It was written in his father’s short, block-lettered handwriting, but why the hell would Bryce leave him a handwritten message? It wasn’t the Stone Age anymore; they had things like email and text messaging and no longer needed to resort to using…pen and paper.
After entering the password on his laptop, Ryan pulled up his email. He scanned his inbox quickly. Nothing. With his curiosity piqued, Ryan grabbed his cell phone and punched in his father’s number.
“Mornin’,” Bryce greeted roughly, sounding as though he’d just crawled out of bed. “I’m on my way in. We’ll talk when I get there.”
“So you know why I’m calling,” Ryan inquired.
“I assume you saw my note.”
“Why not just send me an email with the details?” Ryan asked, leaning back in his chair and spinning around to look out the window again.
“Can’t.”
Ryan’s eyebrows shot up into his hairline. The only reason his father wouldn’t send an email with information would be if the assignment wasn’t supposed to be documented. “Can you—”
“Ten minutes, RT. I’ll be there then.”
Ryan frowned when his father hung up, but he understood. He was merely curious, and his father got a kick out of testing his patience.
Twenty minutes later—not ten as his father had promised—Bryce strolled into Ryan’s office, a cup of coffee in his hand and two-day beard growth on his jaw.
“Forget to shave?”
Bryce rubbed the golden stubble on his chin. “I’m testin’ this whole retirement thing.”
“Yet you’re here.”
“One step at a time, kid. One step at a time.”
Ryan reached for his coffee and relaxed into his chair once again. “So what’s up?”
“Casper’s coming,” Bryce told him. “He’s in his office.”
Casper and Bryce? First thing on a Monday? This should be interesting.
“You tell him yet?” Casper questioned as he trudged into the room carrying a cup of coffee and his cell phone.
“Did y’all ride together?” Ryan watched them closely. Since they all lived in separate houses scattered on a vast amount of land that they considered a compound, it wasn’t unheard of for people to carpool, but Ryan got the feeling this was something more than an effort to save the planet.
“Yeah.”
Leaning back in his chair, Ryan regarded them both suspiciously. “Okay, spill. What’s goin’ on?”
Casper’s white-gray eyes darted to Bryce as though encouraging him to share the details. Ryan wished one of them would.
And then, half an hour later as he stared at the two of them, the conversation still turning in his head, Ryan wished they would’ve kept this assignment to themselves.
Based on what he’d just heard, it was going to be a very long day.
Z STROLLED INTO THE OFFICE on Monday morning with a smile on his face. There wasn’t a specific reason for the grin; it was just there. Could’ve been that he’d gotten nearly eight hours of sleep the night before, or perhaps because the sun was shining. As a rule, he didn’t need a reason to smile; he simply tried to do it often. And coming to work on a Monday morning, to do a job he loved…well, that warranted a big fucking smile as far as he was concerned.
“Mornin’, Z,” Jayden Brooks—Sniper 1’s receptionist—greeted, her cheery face lighting up as though he was someone important.
“Mornin’, Glue,” he replied easily, using the nickname they’d given her thanks to her ability to keep the office together. “How was your weekend?”
“Same ol’, same ol’. You?” Her sweet smile caused her eyes to crinkle.
It was the identical conversation they had anytime he came in, and he didn’t mind Jayden’s friendly manner. Not that he intended to tell her—or anyone, for that matter—about his weekend. They’d all come to think of him as the playboy extraordinaire, believing he spent all his time naked with a different man each night. It was a reputation he didn’t refute but one that he wasn’t guilty of. If they knew the truth, they’d probably think he had a few screws loose. Which was why he kept his mouth shut when it came to his personal life.
“Not enough excitement. Which is why I show up here every week.”
Jayden’s light green eyes sparkled. “Smart man. And speaking of excitement”—her eyebrows shifted—“RT, Casper, and Bryce are waitin’ for you.”
“Me?” What the hell were they waiting on him for? Grabbing his phone from his pocket, Z checked to make sure he hadn’t missed any calls.
Nope. Nothing.
“It just came up,” Jayden explained, clearly picking up on his confusion. “They’ve been kinda quiet, just told me to make sure you found them when you got in.”
Shit. He’d known that RT was acting weird for the past couple of weeks, ignoring Z, sending him on out-of-state assignments probably to put as much distance between them as physically possible. Not that any amount of space would make the memories of that night go away, but Z was obviously more accepting of what had transpired between them than RT was.
Then again, Z was hoping for a repeat.
Granted, that wouldn’t likely happen if RT were going to fire him.
Surely not.
Fuck. He hoped not. What the hell would he do if he didn’t have this job? Mall security?
Shit.