Survivor (First to Fight #2)(64)
“That’s the damn truth,” Logan slurs. “Fucking women. You think you can trust them. Think they’re good, honest people. So you marry them. Put them up in a nice house, let them leech off of your benefits and f*cking awesome medical insurance. Then, the next thing you know, you go overseas to defend your country and come home to find that they’ve maxed out your credit cards and have been letting a f*cking Jodi sleep in your goddamn bed since the day you shipped out.” He gestures with his drink, beer sloshing over the lip.
Jack raises his bottle. “Here, here.”
“So glad you’re done with her,” I tell him. “You feel like shit now, but it’s a good thing.”
“Now you just need to get in the gym with me, let my dad’s guys shape you up,” Jack says. “They’ll have you so black and blue and exhausted that you’ll be like, Denise who?”
“Hell, yes,” Logan hollers.
“Maybe you should slow down a little, man.”
Logan answers with a burp and chugs the rest of his drink. I shake my head at him.
Jack turns his attention to me as Logan lumbers off to get another drink or take a piss off the dock. “Next time you’re home, you better come see us at the gym. Bust out some of your spec ops moves.”
I shrug. “I would hate to put all your boys to shame there, Jack.”
Jack arches an eyebrow in my direction. “You’re on. You and me, to the mat. Next time you have leave, if you don’t show up, we’ll know who the real badass is.”
“It’ll still be me, bitch, but I’ll take your cute little challenge.” I sip my beer. “How’s the small business life treating you, by the way?”
“Not bad, man, not bad. We’ve hit a rough patch since dad turned it over to me, but we’ll bounce back. Is your ole’ man still busting your ass about taking over the auto shop?”
“He brings it up at least twice every time we talk. I had to leave earlier because I didn’t want to get the third degree.”
“Are you gonna take him up on the offer?”
When I joined the Marines, I fully intended that it would be for life. But after eight years, a lot of things have changed. I’ve changed. I thought the degree in business was a smart move just in case. I never expected that I would actually be in the situation to use it.
“Don’t know. I’m due to reup after the next assignment, but I don’t know if that’s gonna happen. Don’t you dare say a word to him.”
Jack lifts his beer. “Sure, man. I hear you. When Dad had his stroke last year I knew it was time. I wasn’t ever going to be a lifer, though. Running the gym was always my endgame. You just have to figure out what your endgame is gonna be.” He glances at Sofie who is holding onto a laughing Olivia. “Then again, sometimes that endgame changes, so who the hell knows?”
Logan starts ambling up the dock, swaying considerably, so Jack abandons his beer and the seat to make sure our friend doesn’t drown his sorrows—and himself—in the lake.
“You’re being quiet.” Olivia snags Jack’s empty chair next to me. Her sweet vanilla scent carries on the soft breeze as she leans toward me, her dress dipping scandalously low in the front. I force myself to look her in the face when I respond.
“Got a lot on my mind,” I say, glancing back toward Jack to make sure he isn’t lurking nearby.
She nods, licking her lips. “Well, we’re gonna miss you around here.”
My gaze travels over her again. “I’m not here enough for you to miss me.”
“Then maybe we should remedy that.”
We share a heated look. “Not so sure that would be a good idea, Liv. Your boyfriend might not like you spending time with someone else.”
Olivia quirks an eyebrow. “What boyfriend?”
“Hey, Ben,” Jack calls. “Need you to take the big guy home. I think he’s had enough.”
“I swear to God, I’d like to beat his ex-wife. Poor guy,” Sofie mutters as she joins us.
“I’ll go with.” Livvie stands and wipes her hands on her dress. “You’ve been drinking, and besides, weren’t we just saying that we haven’t had near enough time to catch up?”
“Hell,” I tell her, unable to stop myself, “we may need all night to do that.”
She smiles, and the wicked curve of her lips makes my mouth go dry. “I’ve always wanted to give your big truck a try. If you’ll let me drive, that is.”
Heat unfurls in my stomach, which has nothing to do with the beer. “You got it, Spitfire,” I say tossing my empty beer bottle in the trashcan.
She looks back over her shoulder. “Do you think it’s safe to leave the two of them here alone?”
I jerk my chin toward Jack and Sofie. “They’re big kids. They should be able to play nice.”
Besides, she should be more worried about herself.
I follow her back to the house, trying to look anywhere but the shapely lines of her hips and waist as she climbs the steps in front of me.
Livvie opens the sliding glass door and we step into the house. She closes it behind me, shutting out the laughter and conversation from those outside. My truck is parked next to the back porch. I toss her the keys, and she catches them with a wide grin. My heart damn near jumps out of my chest when she slithers into the driver’s seat. And not because I’m nervous about letting her behind the wheel of my baby.