Was it okay to tell one’s wife that bullshitting a bullshitter was a waste of time?

Drae weighed the consequences of pulling the rug out from beneath Victoria’s performance but decided to poke around a bit and try to make sense of her strange, evasive behavior.

It didn’t take a genius to figure just two possibilities existed to explain his wife’s jumpy nervousness. She was covering either for her mom or Alex.

His money was on Alex. After a short internal debate, Drae concluded that only the Major had the arrogance and prestige necessary to persuade Victoria to go back on her word. He and his wife promised to communicate and say no to secrets. They knew what it was like to be in a marriage that was idling on the runway and preparing to take off for a near guaranteed crash and burn. He didn’t ever want to go down that road again.

Looking around the fifth attempt of a space he pretended was a suitable office, Drae tapped a pencil on his makeshift desk. He was halfway through a new design for some clever built-ins that Meghan asked him to do for the reading nook she wanted.

He could quietly poke Irish and see if she had idea if Alex and Victoria were hiding something from everyone.

He quickly dismissed that notion. No way would Alex’s ball-busting wife allow any shit if it jeopardized a marriage.

In the midst of considering his options and planning his next move, he dropped the pencil and sat straight.

Wait, what? This wasn’t a tactical maneuver. He wasn’t organizing an away mission. This was his marriage and Victoria. What sort of arrogant asshole did it make him to hold her to a standard he himself was ignoring?

If he wanted to know what the fuck was going on, he had to go straight to the source and ask. After all, wasn’t that the very definition of communicating?

Standing, he tucked his shirt in and adjusted it here and there. No time like the present.

“Mom!”

“What?” Tori chirped as enthusiastically as her son just had. He was talking up a storm. Having gone beyond stringing one or two words together, her smart boy now made complex sentences—mostly commentary and could recite his favorite rhymes and songs.

Sitting amidst a pile of books on the floor in the nursery, he was going through a story time hit parade for his little brother. Ryder was in his baby seat on the floor next to her avidly watching his big brother’s animated antics.

“Dog … woof!” He stabbed his chubby toddler finger on a dog picture in a book about animal sounds.

“That’s right, sweetie, and what’s your doggie’s name?”

Dramatically slapping the board book shut with a loud snap, the eldest St. John heir made a frowny face. “Waven bad.”

Damn right, Raven was bad, she thought. The damn dog decided to dig a hole in the yard deep enough to bury a treasure chest. Draegyn had laughed and pointed out that digging was what dogs did. Especially an energetic and curious Labrador. Tori didn’t find the dog’s antics funny because after digging the hole, she went around and took the shoes Danny left everywhere and tossed them in the dirt hole.

“Yes, she was. But Daddy filled the hole.”

“Sit time-out.”

Daniel Alexander St. John knew all about time-outs. Draegyn ended up making several naughty benches. There was one each in the kitchen and living room. Another on the back porch. The boy was logging toddler time-out hours that only became more frequent the older he got. Danny had a way of pushing limits—just like his father.

“And, and,” he stammered. “No tweats. She bad.”

Tori initiated the treat embargo. She already had to deal with a smartass for a husband and the two sons they made who were following in Daddy’s footsteps. Handing out treats when faced with their naughty behavior invited more fuckery and was just plain dumb.

“That’s right,” she agreed sternly.

Ryder grunted and squirmed. “He’s hungwy,” Danny translated.

She chuckled and grimaced at the same time. Her boobs were full. Luckily, the baby was a dream and nursed on schedule.

Scooping precious boy number two from his carrier, she settled him in her arms while directing Danny to tidy up their mess. Organizing the bookshelf was his toddler superpower. First, all the books got slammed together. Then he’d shuffle them small to big. Sometimes, he grouped them by color. Other times by theme. One pile for animals. Another for trucks and cars. She shared a similarly quirky trait. A trait that connected Tori to her long-dead father. Daniel Bennett was also part nerd. His DNA guaranteed that she’d follow in his footsteps, so it warmed her heart to see a part of her dad in the present.

Busily doing his thing, Danny talked to himself and went about the task he’d been given. She unbuttoned her shirtdress, undid the clips on her nursing bra, caught a polka dot washable nursing pad before it fell, and lowered the drop away cup. Ryder preferred a lot of skin-to-skin contact. Tori intended to nurse as long as she could. It was good for both of them.

Kissing her baby’s head, she shifted him into position and sighed when he latched on. His little hands curled beneath his chin as her son happily suckled. She stroked the wisps of dark blond hair on his head and marveled at how much he resembled his daddy. Especially now, with his cute little mouth wrapped around her nipple while making greedy sounding snuffles.

A slow smile spread on her face. Leaning against a wood toy chest her husband made, Tori enjoyed the quiet moment with her sons.

“Madonna and child,” a husky voice drawled.

She looked toward the sound and smirked at her sexy husband. He was casually leaning on the doorjamb. His pose was standard Draegyn St. John with one hand free and the other in a pocket. His current uniform of flannel or chambray shirts and comfortable jeans amped up his masculine allure. Add the shaggy hair and facial scruff for a full picture of his staggering presence.

Tori made a face. “Are you mocking your baby mama?”

He chuckled but didn’t answer. He studied Ryder for a moment and then looked at Danny. His air suggested something was on his mind.

She didn’t have long to ponder what his mood meant. He came into the room and approached her, stopping a few feet away. It was disconcerting to be on the floor with him looming over her.

“Is there something you want to tell me?” Draegyn spoke in an even tone, but she heard the stern challenge in his question.

Uh-oh. What had she done? Tori’s mind raced, looking for clues.

“I, uh,” she muttered before her mind stuttered to a stop. Shrugging one shoulder, she offered a bemused smile. “Can I buy a vowel?”

The lack of amusement on Draegyn’s face was all the clue she needed to understand he wasn’t messing around.

“I’m not blind, Victoria. Or stupid. What are you and Alex hiding?”

Holy shit. She swallowed with difficulty and chewed her lip. Panic filled her nervous system. Like a dimwitted criminal, she reflexively threw her co-conspirator under the bus in order to find out what Draegyn already knew.

“What did Alex say?”

His eyes narrowed, and he crossed his arms. She mentally flinched when his jaw hardened.

“No. Nuh-uh. That’s not how this is going to go. You promised me, Victoria. Alex can go fuck himself. This is between you and me.”

The baby snuffled against her breast. Could he sense the Daddy-Mommy turmoil? Her eyes sought out Daniel, but he was happily occupied.

She tried to deflect, but he wasn’t having it. “Can we do this later? When I’m not nursing and little big ears isn’t nearby?”

“No, we cannot.”

Crap. She was in real trouble. If she could have smacked Alex, she would.

“Fine. At least help me up.” She held out her hand and clutched Ryder closer. Her husband offered a tug that was enough for her to gracefully rise with the baby still in her arms. With laundry stacked on her glider rocking chair, the only other seating option was a cozy loveseat where she normally cuddled with her boys.

It would have been nice if he sat beside her, but she could see he was too keyed up.

Nothing would be served by dancing around the subject, so she went for it.

“If this was only about us, I’d never even consider keeping something from you. Been there, done that. But this is about everyone. The whole family. Please, Draegyn. I’m sorry, but what could I do?”

“I want to know what you know.”

Tori winced at the tone he used. She was concerned he wouldn’t see past the perceived betrayal by the two people he was closest to.

“Well, here’s the thing. I don’t know much and certainly not whatever you’ve created in your mind.”

“Goddammit, Victoria,” he snarled.

“Dammit, Mommy!” Danny hooted from across the room.

She was outnumbered and vulnerable. It was two determined St. John males and a third suckling at her breast against little ole her.

Fuck it. She was Victoria St. John and her boys, all of them, best not be fooled by her gender or small stature.

“Mind your manners!” she snapped at thing one and thing two. Danny immediately toed the line.

“Sowwy, Mommy.”

She arched one brow at her husband and waited. In typical St. John style, her arrogant husband smirked and grabbed his crotch. The invitation to suck his dick was unmistakable.

“Maybe later,” she drily muttered. “Now, do you want my side of the story or not?”

“I’m listening.”

Ryder released her nipple and grunted with contentment. She fixed the bra and drew the front of her dress together before shifting the baby to her shoulder. The buttons would have to wait.

“First, I’d like to remind you that I was on Alex’s radar because, despite you enforcing a house arrest maternity leave, because wasn’t it you who asked me to keep an eye on him? Hmm?”

He started to say something, closed his mouth, started again, but then stopped. With an arrogant nod, her sexy secret agent conceded the point.

Having put one on the scoreboard, she cautiously started to explain. “With so many moving parts, the only person capable of interpreting that much information is Alex. I can handle a lot of data, but he takes it supersonic.”

“He’s found something, hasn’t he?”

“Maybe. So you know how freaked out he’s been by the incursion into his system, right? It seemed to all of us like a ballsy move. A taunt—like, hey dickhead, look what we can do.”

Draegyn growled. In some weird way, she found the rumble comforting. It was what her husband’s honor sounded like. Messing with the Major was not on the approved list.

“Sometimes, what you first think isn’t always what’s actually going on. When you hear the word breach, what do you think? That someone is coming in. Usually to take something out.”

“You mean a data grab. But he always said it felt like something more.”

“Exactly. When he broke it down, and I mean, thoroughly picked everything apart, he found something. Coming in.”

Draegyn’s face hardened. “When you say he found something coming in, what does that mean to a regular person?”

“He found a ghost. Inside the system.”

“A ghost?”

“Yeah. Like a shadowy footprint in a distinctive pattern.”

“Does he know what it means?”

She bit her lip and didn’t hide a heavy sigh. “To be one hundred percent honest, I’m not sure. But he has a strong feeling, and since I was there while he was obsessing, he asked for my opinion. On the condition that I not tell you.”

“Why the fuck not? What am I missing?”

“When I objected, this is how he explained it. He said he’d tell you, and when he did, he’d need your at the moment reaction—not something that may have been affected by prior knowledge.”

Tori knew Alex’s argument was strong, but that didn’t mean her husband was happy about it.

“Honey,” she quietly said. “When the moment comes, he’s counting on you to be who you are and do what you’ve always done. He says you’re not just his right hand. You’re his North Star, and he trusts you with his life. It’s okay to be mad that he’s interfering, but just remember why.”

“Well, I’ll be damned,” Alex, muttered. “Stephanie was right.”

He lugged the barrel of mismatched and beat to shit riding equipment to the far end of the tack room and shoved it with his booted foot into a corner. His stable master—or, in this case, mistress—was a bit of a stickler about order. Stephanie didn’t care for chaos in her domain, which explained how she badgered him into taking a good look at the crap piling up in nearly every corner of the stable and barn.

Brushing dirt and dust off his hands with a threadbare bandana square he found on a hook, his thoughts catapulted into the future when his kids would be causing all kinds of equestrian holy hell—just as he, his sisters, and Parker had.

The random thought sent his overactive brain in a new direction. He should call Bob Jenkins and check out his horses. See if the guy had anything suitable.

Was he jumping the gun? After all, the twins weren’t even a year old.

He shrugged. So what? It wouldn’t hurt to satisfy a curiosity, and besides, now that Justice had an actual veterinarian on staff, the plan he kept tucked away in his mind was entirely feasible. The stable had a dozen empty stalls, and the family was expanding. They needed more horses and ATVs and baseball bats and scooters and basketball hoops, and well, they needed more of everything. Lots more.

The creaking sound of the tack room doors opening and slamming shut drew his attention. Wondering who was joining him, he shifted to peer around a stack of crates piled way too high. It was Sinjin, only he didn’t look like he was having a good day.

Stepping from the corner, Alex walked to the center of the long rectangular tack room and offered a welcoming smile. Draegyn St. John, however, did not appear all that pleased to see him.

Alex frowned. It wasn’t like his Justice brother to take an attitude. Especially not around him. Foregoing the pleasantries of a polite hello, he went with the obvious. “What’s up?”

Drae crossed his arms and just glared at him. Alex studied the other man’s body language and filled with concern. Dressed in his current uniform of jeans, work boots, and a flannel shirt, the former tuxedo man gave off one hell of an angry vibe. Sinjin’s mute answer made Alex uneasy.

Fuck.

They eyeballed each other for a good two minutes. Alex’s confusion lasted less than ten seconds—the rest of the time was eaten up by two fearsome alphas staring each other down.

He’d done a bad by asking Tori to keep secrets from her husband. The murderous glare in his old friend’s expression let Alex know he’d gone too far.

Maybe he should lead with an apology. Start off with an admission that he understood he was being a dick.

Yeah, that seemed like a smart move.

He put up his hands, not quite in surrender but definitely a sign of contrition, and said, “Look, I’m sorry. I had no choice.”

Drae’s fist shot out so fast, Alex didn’t have time to duck. The shock of an angry St. John punching him in the face sent him reeling backward. He crashed into a freestanding saddle rack and landed on his ass as the equipment toppled over and thudded next to him on the wooden floor.

“You motherfucker!” Drae shouted. “Victoria isn’t yours to, to, aw, shit!” he hollered. “You know what I mean. This is uncool, man. You know she can’t say no to you.”

Alex massaged his jaw and frowned. He stood with unfortunate difficulty. When he went down, he’d landed awkwardly, and the pain shooting along his side wasn’t a good sign.

“You’re fired,” he snarled. “You and Domineau.”

“Why?” Drae barked. “Because you’re an asshole and deserved a smackdown?”

Limping to a crate, Alex sat down and rubbed his thigh. A harsh exhale from Drae signaled Sinjin knew he’d gotten hurt when he fell.

“Just great.” Flexing the hand he used to put him on the floor, Drae glared. “Irish is going to come after me if you’re hobbled.”

Alex would pay to be a fly on the wall for that conversation.

Snarling, he leveled one complaint after another, flinging each indignity and upset in Drae’s face until he irritably ended with, “Everyone thinking they know better isn’t helping. And using me as a punching bag has to stop.”

The dry, unimpressed expression staring back at him made Alex squirm. Drae wasn’t that easy to deflect.

“Are you finished whining, you pussy bitch?” his friend of a thousand lifetimes asked.

“Well, I don’t know,” Alex fired back. “Are you finished throwing punches?”

“Suck my dick, Major. No hands and plenty of crying.”

Alex knew when to fold—especially with Drae. They read each other with far too much accuracy. Despite feeling secure in his reasons for asking Tori to keep a confidence, that didn’t mean he was obtuse or ignoring the ramifications of his actions.

“All right but sit the fuck down. And hand me that water bottle,” he grunted.

Reaching into the pocket of his jeans, Alex pulled out a foil pack of ibuprofen. Years of managing his war wounded body taught him to always have the basic pain aid on hand.

Drae snatched the packet from his fingers and replaced it with the water. Alex said nothing while his faithful second ripped the foil and dumped the tablets into his hand.

“Here, take two and don’t call me in the morning.”

Alex snickered at the joke, took the tablets, and popped them into the back of his mouth. Washing them down with the water, he smirked at Drae and put the asshole in his place.

“It won’t be me calling,” he snidely reminded him. “And if you think dodging her call is an option, hiding from my wife will only result in her getting Tori on the phone.”

“Yeah? Well, you still deserved it, so I’ll take my chances. Now stop prevaricating and explain your dickhead behavior.”

“Oh, shit.” Alex chuckled. “Are we breaking out the five-dollar words?” When Drae just glared at his attempt to be funny, Alex set the water bottle down and jumped in.

“Do you remember that shitshow, Operation Drystone? How we crawled around for weeks chasing something that didn’t exist?”

Drae pulled a crate close and dropped onto it. He leaned forward and rested his forearms on his thighs. A pensive frown moved across his face. After a few moments, he straightened and nodded. “Yeah. I remember. Roman was fucking livid. The target gave up nothing.”

“Right,” Alex interjected, “because he had nothing to give. The guy was running a radar defense. Throwing us off in one direction while the real threat silently snuck right in.”

“Okay. So?”

“I keep thinking about the failures on that mission. I missed a lot of things, Drae. Too many.”

They nodded at each other in silence. Sinjin understood.

“Everything we know means nothing right now. There’s a piece or a couple of pieces missing, and what’s missing will change everything.” He slapped his stomach. “I feel it in here, man. Tori has an analytic mind. I needed her take on something. I’m closer to understanding, and when it comes into focus, it will be your first reaction, yours and Cam’s, that make a difference.”

“Believe it or not, I’ve been paying attention. Is this about your contention that information is being sent in rather than sucked out?”

“Yes,” Alex quickly replied. “Exactly. I think I know, Drae, and to be honest, if I’m right, this is all kinds of fucked up in ways I still don’t understand.”

“Jesus Christ, Alex. You know, but you don’t? And it’s fucked up, but you don’t know why? This isn’t good, man.”

He grunted his agreement. “I know it sounds like a circular firing range, but you have to trust me just a little bit longer. The pieces are moving. What happens next will greatly determine the outcome.”