Jacked (Trent Brothers #1)(24)
If Sidell only knew how accurately I had fired today at the range, making every shot a center mass kill shot, maybe he’d shut his big, fat yap. I hoped our captain was smart enough to realize this shit was creating animosity within the team that was getting close to becoming irreparable.
An hour ago, I was calm, content even despite finding a few fans waiting outside my house. Since restful sleep was disrupted by the usual nightmares, I’d gone to the gym and had a good workout, even managing to bench press twenty pounds over my last weight. That alone made my day. Forty-five minutes running on the treadmill, an hour at the gun range, and ten minutes listening to my mom rejoicing about her long-distance phone call from my brother Jason, life was normal.
Sidell grabbed another large mailer with a noticeable bulge in the middle, holding it up for all to see. “Okay boys, here’s our ‘what did Trent get in the mail this time?’ entry.”
Bastard sniffed both sides of it like a damn bloodhound. “Victoria’s Secret. One of those sexy demi-bra things where their luscious nippies peek out the top. Lace. Black. Size thirty-six C. Write that down, Westfield. That’s my guess. Here’s my ten bucks.” He kissed the package. “Don’t let me down, babe. My kid needs dental work soon.”
Officer Nate Westfield chuckled and then wrote Sidell’s answer on the dry erase board—the very same board where we should be discussing tactical maneuvers for blocking the stolen vehicles we chased every night instead of this nonsense.
The muscle along my jaw tightened as the urge to reach for my gun and end this misery made the palm of my hand itch. This constant needling from certain members of my team had surpassed annoying weeks ago. Now it was getting unbearable with no ending in sight. Fuckers were ripping into packages like it was Christmas.
Jesse Ramirez was on me as soon as he walked into our bullpen, grabbing the empty chair next to me and flipping it around to straddle it. “Hey Adam, don’t mean to be a pain in your ass, but Ellie wants to know if you’re coming or not. We need to give the caterer a final head count.”
I didn’t know how to tell him I avoided weddings like the plague, especially when the bride-to-be hated my guts now that I’d ended my relationship with Nikki. Still, Jesse and I’d been friends for years.
“You’re the only one in the unit who hasn’t sent back their thing,” Jesse continued.
That’s because the frilly invite was still sitting on my kitchen table, reminding me of my failures. I squinted up at him. “Next month, right?”
Guy looked partially gut-punched with anticipation. “Yep. Saturday, two o’clock. You can’t miss my wedding, bro. I need to know you’re coming.”
For a moment, I sort of envied him. He was part of the crew for a long time, a friend from day one, and I respected the hell out of him. “Yeah, man, of course I’ll be there. Wouldn’t miss it.”
Jesse looked relieved. “Cool. One or two?”
“What?” I know I just heard him say it was at two o’clock.
Ramirez used his fingers to count. “One or two? You bringing somebody or you coming alone, ’cause you know Ellie’s friends with Nikki and, well, she’s invited.”
Marcus groaned and glared over at him. “Damn fool. Now why you had to go bringing that sore shit up? Huh?”
Ramirez put his hands up. “Hey, just providing intel, that’s all. You could always hook up with Ellie’s friend Joanna. She’s one of the bridesmaids. You met her at the picnic, remember? Long brown hair… The one with the huge—”
I stopped him before he finished that thought. “Two.” I’d end up coming alone and leaving right after the dinner but there was no need to have anyone’s expectations brewing for the next few weeks. I’d just pad his envelope with extra cash for the wasted meal.
Ramirez raised a surprised brow. “You thinking about getting back with Nikki then or…?”
Was he out of his f*cking mind?
He backed down like a smart son of a bitch. “Okay, two it is.”
Marcus met my gaze for a second before shaking his head and chuckling. Even in silence, I knew he had my back.
I just hoped Marcus didn’t tell his wife about my little fib because Cherise would grill me for answers, seeing as I didn’t do the dating thing much anymore. Bringing a date to a wedding was inviting trouble. But Marcus and I had no secrets. His wife and I, even less. I trusted them both with my life.
“Bets? Bets? You in?” Sidell was going around the room, making sure everyone got their ante in. He knew better than to ask me.
Ballsy * stopped in front of us anyway. “Marcus, you in?”
I gave Marcus a little chin nod when I caught his glance out of the corner of my eye—my silent approval for him to do his thing. He’d won two of them already, adding a few hundred to my goddaughter’s savings account, but he respected me enough to make sure I was in decent headspace before joining the pool. Despite my loathing of this weekly ritual, I’d even go so far as loaning him ten bucks if it meant more might follow it into Sadie’s college fund.
Marcus appeared torn—partially disgusted and partially desiring to stuff another wad of cash in his pocket. “Let me see the package first.”
You could tell by the shape of the envelope that it contained a bra with those preformed cups. Fucking deceiving devices meant for men to fall victim from false tit sizes, they were.