Luke closed the phone and tucked it back into its drawer, turning the lock. He didn’t want to know where the commander had gotten him the budget he’d just been quoted. Shoot, for all he knew, it was funny money, appearing only in a bank account made to look like it was being transferred to the bad guys. He had a feeling not, though. For one thing, he didn’t think even the federal government could manipulate the banking system that way. For another, he had a feeling the commander had been given whatever funds he needed to run the ops he was currently overseeing. Likely, the budgets were off the grid and not available to any oversight committee review. All the more reason for Luke not to ask any damned questions.

He was okay with that. What he wasn’t okay with was what he just had to do to keep his fake identity in the bidding for the Brain Trust. There was no swallowing back the acid clawing at his throat right now.

The group behind the Brain Trust was moving forward with its plans for an auction, and they were moving forward in stages. Stage one was a buy-in bid for the chance to bid on the next round. The payoff? Not only would you get to the next round, you’d gain access to their proof-of-product. The leaders of the group would be pulling some kind of one-off crime. Something large enough to prove to the bidders that they had a package of information worth buying.

Luke just hoped like hell that didn’t mean taking lives. He’d been poking around in the chat room long enough to know it could mean something as big as taking down a plane or releasing a chemical compound that could kill hundreds, if not thousands. He was praying they’d choose something more discreet. In fact, that’s what he was banking on. He’d battled with his own conscience and argued with the commander, but the end analysis led them both to the same conclusion. It was simply a risk they had to take.

If they wanted to actually put an end to this for good, to get all the players involved and take down some of their buyers in the process, he’d need to do this. He rubbed a hand over his chest. It sure as hell didn’t make this part of it any easier. Working undercover always held an element of unease. You had to do what you were hardwired not to. SEALs, cops, agents—most went into the job because of an innate drive to seek justice. To defend the vulnerable, to do right no matter the cost. So, shoving aside that drive for the greater good came at a hard price.

He’d watched Zach do this back when Zach was working vice, running undercover drug deals. He had seen the wear on his brother as time went on. He was sure Zach still held some scars from that time. Hell, Zach probably held a lot of scars from his time as a cop. He was a detective now in major crimes. What he saw from day-to-day had to be bad.

Maybe he could ask Zach how he managed to keep going day after day with this feeling in his gut.

For now, he shoved aside the ball of heartburn simmering there and focused on day-to-day routines to try to erase the guilt.

Luke headed for his kitchen to grab the laundry basket he’d tossed on his counter earlier, when his phone rang. The incoming FaceTime call from Naomi was enough to wash the grim thoughts swamping his mind. She could always bring a smile to his face.

“Hey, Naomi.” He held the phone up, soaking in the sight of her. She was sitting on a bench in what looked like the central area on her campus. He could see the quad behind her, students crossing the grass in groups or pairs. “Everything all right?”

She shook her head but there was a grin softening her look. “I’m fine. I’m always fine.” She had told Luke and Zach over and over they didn’t need to worry about her so much. The lesson never took, and he doubted it ever would. She was his world.

“How’s school?” He grabbed the handle of the laundry basket and headed out into the hall with her still on screen as she told him about classes. He liked listening to her tell him about her world. It made him feel like she was still close by.

The unmistakable sound of Lyra’s girl racing down the hall reached his ears and he had to shove aside guilt again. Naomi had bought his line about helping a friend out by staying at his place for a month more easily than Zach, but he hated the fact he was going to have to introduce her to the girls and Lyra.

Bad enough he was leading Lyra on to trap her into implicating herself.

There was a time he wouldn’t have cared. He had a job to do and that job required him to pretend to be someone he wasn’t. Completing his mission would save untold numbers of people, so he’d do it without a moment’s hesitation or remorse. It’s part of what made a SEAL a SEAL. The willingness to run hell-bent and flat-out toward danger and stick your life in front of another’s, even if that person was a stranger.

So, he hated that he now had the urge to hang up on Naomi so she wouldn’t meet the girls. So she wouldn’t ask later what had happened to Lyra and if he ever saw her or her twins anymore. Naomi would ask. She was that type of person. She cared about others and thought about strangers in ways others might not.

The urge to hang up came too late. Already Naomi was smiling and asking who was making all the noise. Luke knelt to meet the girls at their level. Rather than hitting the camera icon that would turn his camera toward the girls and allow Naomi to see what he was seeing, he turned the phone so Prentiss and Alyssa could see Naomi.

As he’d come to expect in the last few days, Alyssa and Prentiss were dressed alike, but there were distinct differences to their appearance. Alyssa wore her hair in neat pigtails, a sausage curl coming out on either side of her head, purple bow at the base of each. The bows matched her dress, complete with frills and not a spot of her lunch or dirt or whatever else a child of her age would run into throughout the day marking it.

Prentiss, on the other hand, sported the same dress and pigtails, but one bow had come undone, the pigtails loose and disheveled rather than neatly primped. There was a spot of what he would swear was grease from a car or other engine on her dress and the knees of her leggings showed the evidence of having knelt in dirt at some point in the day.

He’d discovered Alyssa was the one who dressed them in matching outfits each day. According to Lyra, Alyssa was into fashion and enjoyed planning their outfits. Prentiss didn’t mind dressing in whatever Alyssa chose for her, so, Lyra had told him with a shrug, that’s the way they arranged things.

Luke turned the phone to face the girls. “Naomi, meet Prentiss and Alyssa. Girls, this is my niece, Naomi.”

“She’s an all-grown girl.” Alyssa’s statement was matter-of-fact.

Luke put on a big sigh as Lyra walked up to join them. “She is an all-grown girl. I had to let her go to college this year. Can you believe she picked a school that’s a four-hour drive from here?”

“I’m never moving out. I’m going to live with my mom forever,” Prentiss said, bringing a laugh from all the adults, including Naomi.

“Not me,” said Alyssa, a lift to her chin. “I’m getting my own place with a walk-in closet.”

Prentiss scowled and Luke had a feeling she was trying to work out in her head how she could live with her mom but also go with Alyssa. Little did they know they’d both be clamoring to get out by the time they were old enough to move away. Not that Lyra didn’t seem like a great mom. She did. But, it was a given all teenagers would want to spread their wings and fly.

“It’s nice to meet you girls,” Naomi said on the screen and before he knew it, she and the girls were chatting away while he was nothing more than their phone holder. Alyssa was telling Naomi about their birthday party their mom was planning. Apparently, she was putting together a new outfit for them that was, as she put it, “more for big girls than little girls” since they’d be turning five. Five was apparently some cut-off for little girlhood in her head.

“Laundry?” Lyra mouthed with a nod to his basket.

“Yup. Almost out of BDUs.”

She shot him a questioning look and he tugged at his pants. “Cargo pants.” Not exactly, but close enough for a civilian. He’d never given up the large pockets and handy loops of a good pair of Battle Dress Uniform pants despite being out of the service for years.

She nodded and whispered over the chatter of the girls. “You’re in the military?”

He offered a head shake. “Was. Retired.”

She nodded and looked at the time on her phone screen. “Hey girls, we have to run. Say goodbye to Luke and Naomi.”

The girls gave a quick wave with varying versions of goodbye coming from both sides of the conversation and took off down the hall.

“It was nice meeting you, Naomi,” Lyra called out as she followed the twins.

Luke would have turned to watch her go, were it not for Naomi still being on the phone. Instead he made his way down the hall toward the laundry room, knowing full well, Naomi would grill him if she sniffed so much as a hint of extra attention toward Lyra. She was dead set on him meeting someone to date now that she was “out of his hair,” her words not his.

“She’s pretty.”

Luke looked at Naomi and shook his head. “You barely saw her.” His groin was wholeheartedly agreeing with her—and then some—but he wouldn’t let on.

Her laughter said she wasn’t buying it. “And her girls are adorable.”

The statement gave him an idea for another defense and he snatched at it as he settled the phone against his detergent bottle on the table in the laundry room and set about loading the washing machine.

“What makes you think she’s single? You saw her kids.” He knew Lyra was single, but he didn’t see any reason to confirm or deny that with Naomi.

She made the kind of dismissive sound she’d perfected with him. “I can tell these things. Besides, there isn’t a ring on her finger.”

How had she seen that? She might be right, but he felt the need to keep going. “Not every woman wears one.”

“Admit it. She’s single.” A pair of legs came up behind the bench Naomi sat on and she turned to talk to someone else for a minute. It was clear she was about to end the call. He’d been lucky to have her this long. Naomi seemed to be settling into campus life just fine. A pang of something hit him. Jealousy, maybe? Not for the experience she was having, but for the fact he wasn’t there with her. Zach was right. He’d turned into a middle-aged housewife experiencing empty-nest syndrome. It was pretty sad.

“Sorry, Uncle Luke. I have to run to a study group.” She smiled and gave him one of the lines from their Winnie the Pooh Song. “You’d be surprised there’s so much to be done.”

He laughed. “Honey jars on noses, huh?”

“I wish. It turns out, statistics is harder than I thought, but the study group is helping. I’ll talk to you soon.” A few kissing sounds through the phone and she was gone.

Fuck, he was a sad sap. He shoved clothes into the machine harder and lifted the phone, texting his brother. He needed to get out of here tonight. With any luck, Zach could meet him for a beer and they could do manly shit like drink, watch a ball game, and limit all communication to grunts. That might give him his balls back.