Consolation (Consolation Duet #1)(21)

My hand grips his arm. “I’m happy to see you.”

Mark in his true fashion smirks, “I’m not a bad view, eh, Lee?”

These guys are all the same. Morons. “Sure, you’re the most handsome man I’ve seen in weeks . . . well, besides my mailman. He’s pretty dreamy.”

“I think I could take him.”

“Pretty sure that’s a federal offense.”

“He can’t touch these guns,” he retorts and flexes.

I roll my eyes and snort, “Oh, dear God.”

I laugh as we walk to the conference room and I notice the stares, but I pretend not to.

Mark notices my unease, “I know this is going to be awkward, but give it a few days and you’ll be one of the guys.”

“Do I really want that?”

“I can make up a cute name for you . . . let’s see,” he sits in the chair and looks deep in thought.

“I’m worried you’ll burn what little brain cells you have left if you keep thinking that hard,” I taunt him. Being around Mark is like being around a puppy. He naturally brings out the fun and playful side. And he’s caring yet strong and has this undeniable pull that makes you want to be near him.

“Keep it up and your name will be something you don’t like,” his brow raises and his lip curls. “You know you don’t get to pick. Call signs are given. They’re a rite of passage and you get no say. I mean, you think I wanted to be called Twilight?”

Leaning in my chair, I tap the pen. “I don’t know, I mean, you look like you could have a thing for vampires.”

He laughs and I follow. “Fill out the paperwork and then I’ll be back.” He walks over and places his hand on my shoulder. “I’m glad you’re here. We need the help with Muffin gone.”


My hand rests on his. “I know it’s hard having them both gone.” In a matter of a few months, Mark lost his two best friends in a manner of speaking. Aaron and he were extremely close. They spent weekends rebuilding Aaron’s car, barbeques on the beach, and then Jackson moved to California. I can’t imagine it’s been easy for him either.

“You know me,” he replies and removes his hand. I look at the paper and I hear the door click closed. Aaron’s death has rocked our worlds and none of us are acknowledging it.

Once I finish filling out what feels like three hundred forms, I head out to find Mark.

Not paying any attention, I open the door and hear a deep voice, “Hey.”

I drop the papers and look up to see Jackson. My hand clutches my chest, “Hey, you scared the shit out of me.” I give a nervous laugh.

Well, this is unexpected. Jackson called the other day to see how we were doing and make sure I was still planning to come to work for him. He towers over me with his six-foot-three frame. I’m not short by any means, but he makes me feel tiny. He crouches and picks up the papers.

“Sorry about that. Catherine says I do the same thing,” he laughs and his eyes light up when he says her name.

“How’s she doing?” I ask. I’ve spoken to her a few times since her move to California, but with the time difference, we seem to miss each other.

Jackson’s joy is prevalent in his features. His eyes brighten, his lips lift, and my heart cracks. I remember being that in love. “Great, we’re great.”

I laugh to cover the pain that’s building. “I didn’t ask about you,” nudging him, I say playfully.

“Yeah, yeah. Everyone cares about her and couldn’t care less about me,” he winks. “How are you doing?” he asks, wrapping his arm around my shoulder and pulling me in. He’s carried immense guilt for all that’s happened and offered me a job any time I wanted to work. The flexibility and ability to make my own hours was more than appealing. As a journalist, I had to go when the story came. There would’ve been way too many nights I wouldn’t be able to put Aarabelle to sleep.

I let out a slow breath as he releases me. “I’m living. Liam’s been around taking care of things around the house. He’s helped a lot with the stupid, mundane stuff.”

“Dempsey’s a good guy. I spoke with him last week.”

“Oh,” I reply, a little surprised. I didn’t know they were friends like that.

Jackson chuckles at my response. “I have to check on you somehow since you won’t answer my calls.”

“I answer!” I exclaim defensively. “Well, sometimes . . .” I trail off.

“It’s okay. I know you’re busy and Demps says you lie anyway,” he gives me a knowing look. Jackson is good at reading people. They all are. Sometimes being friends with all SEALs isn’t all that great. Sure, I’m always safe and protected, but it’s impossible to hide anything. Aaron being gone for a while has made me a little lost as to how to act. I drew my strength from him, now I have to rely on my own. Which I think I’ve done a pretty good job at.

“I don’t lie . . . I’m just tired of saying the same thing over and over.”

“Yeah, I remember that feeling,” Jackson replies.

Oh, how could I forget? Jackson knows better than anyone else. He’s been exactly where I am when his wife died. I’m an idiot and insensitive. “Jackson,” I place my hand on his arm, “I can’t believe I’ve been so stupid.”