Pounding out a steady rhythm with his feet, Cam powered through the excruciating burn and heaviness in his thighs. He was running like his next breath depended on it. The sound of his breathing was only second to the noise his shoes made pounding the ground.

Overhead, the early morning sun shone brightly, and everywhere he looked, he found the Arizona beauty he loved.

Sweat soaked his t-shirt, but still, he kept running. The sheer physicality of a sustained run was what he needed to drown out the worries cluttering his mind. It didn’t help that he was fucking exhausted. Not sleeping had a way of fucking with a guy’s Chi.

Suck—blow—suck—blow. The thumping cadence of his strides pushed him past the shadows cornering his thoughts. In order to clear his head, he had to, well—he had to clear his thoughts.

Lacey was the obvious first thought to step front and center, but he pushed her aside for now. Once he went there, nothing else would matter, and since an awful lot mattered, it was best to establish a pecking order.

Next in the spotlight was Alex.

He ran along and waited for the endorphins to crush his anxiety where the Major was concerned. When that didn’t happen, he focused on the center of his worry and let the feelings wash over him.

There was nothing to look back on and like about the period when Alex was engulfed by his wedding and extended European honeymoon. Leaving Cam and Drae in charge of the day-to-day Justice crap meant stepping into Big Daddy’s shoes. And he hadn’t enjoyed the experience.

Oh sure, he’d earned a fuck load of brownie points for a plethora of high-value agency hires and somehow managed to keep Drae from losing his shit over the fuckery that went down at the Villa with the elders. And he, along with Parker and Calder, managed to avoid taking Finn O’Brien out to the desert and leaving him there so from an overall standpoint—winning.

But he hated every second of the responsibility and formed a new appreciation for what Alex handled so naturally.

Some guys were born leaders—it was in their blood—and Alex was the perfect example. But he, Jason Cameron, wasn’t that guy and had no interest in developing a taste for either power or control.

The sun was starting to enter its brutal vector, so he turned the dial down to a leisurely run. No use in killing himself.

Lately, the boss had been showing more than a few signs of strain. They’d all gotten so used to Alex 2.0. The version after Meghan appeared and straightened his ass out.

The recent changes bothering him hadn’t happened overnight, and the man went to ridiculous lengths to create a smokescreen. Inklings of dark shit appeared as soon as their honeymoon was over—and Cam returned from almost having his butt blown to kingdom come.

With his senses on high alert after the ordeal he’d barely survived, Cam picked up a subtle undercurrent. And this undercurrent had a distinctive military feel to it. Drae noticed it too, but they hadn’t talked about it until recently.

Alex’s incendiary reaction to the Feds showing up on his land without a heads-up and effectively spiriting Cam away to rescue their fucking asses yet again told quite a story. He’d gone batshit, and before anyone knew what was happening, a ring of security surrounded the family that was harder to get through than at the White House.

Something was up, and it was a hell of a lot more than Meghan being pregnant with twins.

Geez, and better not touch the added complication of the Major’s parents moving home and unmarried Sophie turning up blissfully pregnant.

Drae and Tori, thank fucking Jesus, were currently up to their eyeballs in a period of deep contentment. Tori’s second pregnancy had been uneventful so far. And Drae? Holy shit, man. Somewhere between fucking everything up and getting his wife pregnant again, he’d become the wise old man of their group. Bestowing wisdom and advice like Tinkerbell sprinkled fairy dust.

He smiled, thinking about his friend. Draegyn St. John qualified as a certified piece of work. They were complete opposites but uniquely the same. Bound together for life by everything they experienced during their Team Justice days, he relied on Drae’s arrogant fuckery as much as Alex’s all-powerful command.

In a rush, a thousand small details crowded his mind.

Brody thought he might have a dog for Dylan. He should call him later and get the whole story.

Another Team Justice member, Roman Bishop, had his hands full at the moment. Cam had helped his old friend with a confidential seek and find. With Alex’s enthusiastic blessing, he’d put the full resources of the agency at Roman’s disposal. It would be interesting to see how that scenario unfolded.

Calder—good ol’ howl-at-the-moon Calder Dane—was getting married. To Drae’s mother-in-law. Shit, but that part of the story was funny. Cam couldn’t be happier for the guy. Stephanie Bennett was one hell of a lady, and who else but Tori’s mother could stun them all, Calder included, with a pregnancy at fifty.

Oh, fuck. He suddenly remembered he had to get back to Betty’s friend Cheryl. She was coordinating a massive group baby shower for the women, and she needed to know what Lacey’s favorite flower was. That one was easy. Roses. His wife loved roses.

Not all that long ago, he was a miserable fuck getting up there in years with a grim outlook on life. For shits and grins, he was even considering buying land back East—someplace in the woods where he could run around naked and shoot up shit if that was what he wanted to do.

His feet hit the ground over and over. A brief chuckle rumbled out as he concentrated on his breathing. Running around naked and shooting shit was normal within the boundaries of the Villa. Hadn’t they proved that point yet again at Calder’s bachelor party?

His wife hadn’t been especially thrilled with his drunken bullshit that night. Cam smiled as he remembered the stern wifely lecture and how she repeatedly smacked his hands away when he tried to touch her. He tried assuring her that the others were way more fucked up than he was, but when he stumbled over an ottoman and pulled a muscle trying to catch himself, she shook her head.

What would he do without Ponytail’s gentle sweetness? Even when she was pissed, he knew she loved him without equal.

Which reminded him. The video of him and the guys fucking around on his wife’s exercise pole another time they were shitfaced was making the rounds again. It never went outside their intimate group of Justice rabble-rousers, but it was still disconcerting when Alex’s and Parker’s dads had themselves a right royal laugh after an extended viewing.

If he didn’t find a way to squash that thing, and soon, there was a real possibility it’d end up on somebody’s social media.

Lacey.

His feet pounded on.

God, he loved her so much.

Slowing down, he staggered clumsily to a stop and bent over with his hands on his knees. Taking in huge breaths, he watched his stomach move in and out from the effort. The heat from the sun warmed his sweat-soaked shirt.

From the small water camel he wore like a backpack, Cam took a long slug of water and glanced around at the familiar scenery. He’d done well here in the desert Southwest. Raising a family at the Villa gave him the best of two worlds.

He thought of his son, Dylan Henry Cameron. The kid was nothing short of amazing. For all their personal issues and quirks, he and his wife made a beautiful human being with Dyl. Lacey was right—sometimes he did come off like a miniature version of Alex.

Would their daughter be the same?

Cam was anxious for her arrival. Even though Lacey’s medical team said everything was fine, a subtle undercurrent of anxiety had existed almost from day one. He couldn’t put a finger on it nor could anyone else. It was a low-level thrum. A sense that maybe everything wasn’t quite right. This pregnancy had not been the uneventful walk in the park that they got the first time. Early bouts of debilitating nausea set the stage for everything that followed. His wife seemed breakable, so he was worried.

He turned in a circle and made a panoramic inventory. Had he come to any conclusions now that his thoughts were clearer?

Yeah. Kind of.

Alex was hiding something. And since that wasn’t his style, Cam knew whatever it was would end up being big.

Drae was currently positioned near the life rafts with plenty of vests and safety rings available. Was it hugely amusing that St. John was in charge of keeping the ship afloat? Yes. Completely.

Roman Bishop was back in the loop. Who woulda figured, he thought with another long guzzle of water.

And then there was Lacey. She needed him right now. More than ever. Something wasn’t right, and it was stupid to pretend otherwise.

He grimaced.

She was the chink in his armor. His Achilles’ heel. If anything happened to her, he’d be broken beyond hope.

Alex was keeping a major secret, Roman wandered back onto his radar, and Lacey was in a precarious and vulnerable state of unknown origin yet-to-be-determined outcome. Only Drae was on guard—on duty.

They were, as a group, in unmapped territory.

Uncomfortable awareness skittered along his nerves. The future was in motion, and god only knew where these things would lead.

* * *

“You look gorgeous.”

Tori whirled around when Draegyn’s throaty growl surprised her from the doorway.

The tea-length chiffon gown with the princess neckline fit perfectly. The dress was dyed to match the same red shade as a new pair of Louboutins that were a gift from her husband. She ran to him, jumped into his arms, and proceeded to leave red lipstick kisses all over his face.

“Hey, now.” He laughed. Setting her down, he kept an arm around her waist and asked, “What was that for?”

“That, my super sexy secret agent man, is what you get for wearing a tuxedo. This is what you wore,” she cooed with her fingers stroking the jacket lapels, “the first time I ever laid eyes on the infamous playboy, Draegyn St. John.”

“Do I make you horny?” he teased in an awful parody of Austin Powers.

Laughing happily, she patted his chest. “Only on Tuesdays. And alternate Saturdays.”

“How’s my kid?” he asked with a very possessive caress of her barely visible bump.

She put her hand on his and smiled. “Well, let’s see. This morning, Danny’s sibling had a hellacious craving for Captain Crunch. Scarfed down two servings and then drank the milk from the bowl.”

“Good kitten.” He smirked.

“Don’t start with that.” She laughed. “We don’t have time for frisky.”

“Aw, babe. Really? It’d be so simple. Either bend over or jump on. No need to undress. We’ve got this!”

“Draegyn St. John! I’m serious. My mother is getting married in a few hours, and I’d like to show up wearing clean underwear.”

He had an argument at the ready that made her smack him on the arm.

“I’ll be the cleanup crew. Spit polish and everything.”

“What the hell is wrong with you?”

“You’re what’s wrong with me, so stop acting put out. Or innocent.”

The arm around her waist pulled her tight against him. When he put his other hand into his pocket and leered at her with a super-sized helping of bad boy and just the right touch of 007, she melted.

“Lady’s choice if you speak now.”

“I just want to go on record,” she snarkily ground out while struggling to keep a straight face, “and say that you are an oversexed nightmare.”

Pursing her lips, she struggled and pushed out of his arms. Filling the air with a long-suffering sigh, she reached under her dress and wiggled out of her panties. It was no easy task, but she did it.

“If you mess up my hair, I will murder you.” She made this edict with some eyeshade and a pointing finger.

Draegyn’s face was that grinning leer he did so well. The one that acknowledged her surrender. “I knew you’d come around.”

She just looked at him. This was one of his favorite stupid man-jokes.

“Get it? Huh?” he asked with an elbow shove. “I knew you’d come—around my cock.”

“Shut up,” she growled.

Then she went to her knees and attacked his pants.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” he yelped.

“This is what you get for coming home with underpants on your head.”

“It was Cam’s fault. I told you.”

Tori worked her nimble fingers on his pants until everything was out of the way and nothing was between her and the majesty of the St. John penis. With a brazen swirl of her tongue around her lips, she looked up at him and asked, “Is this for me?”

He answered, “Only for you,” and stroked her face.

She beamed her happiness and blew him a little kiss.

“Hold on,” he stammered when she began stroking his hard, warm length. “Tell me how this ends. No surprises. I don’t want Calder to kill me.”

“I thought first I’d indulge in some oral, and then it’s probably best if we end with a bend over scenario.”

“Bendover.” He snickered. “We live in the right place.”

“Seriously? That’s what you say while I’m handling your manhood?”

“Manhood.” He sniggered. “You’ve been reading trashy romances again.”

“You didn’t seem to mind the chapter I read aloud.”

“Oh, you mean the throbbing turgid staff or how he wielded his mighty sword?”

“If I recall, you rather enjoyed chasing me around the backyard.”

Draegyn smiled. “My virgin captive. You liked getting caught.”

“I liked the ravishing. Oh,” she added with a naughty stroke and swirl, “and the sleep fucking. Waking up to this? Inside me?”

They stopped talking. She had a beautifully hard cock to slobber over.

It ended as she wanted. On her knees, ass up. Being a gentleman, he put a small pillow beneath her cheek to help her hair from unraveling on the carpet. When it got a little wild, he dialed it back, teased her ass with his probing fingers, and brought her to a shaking climax.

After he had come, her adoring husband pulled out and kissed her ass. “Don’t move.”

Wonderfully blissed out from the satisfying orgasm, she sighed and stayed as she was. He stood, and Tori heard him pulling up his zipper. He left for a moment and came back with a warm washcloth.

“The spit polish has to wait for another time.”

Refreshed and on her feet, she let him help slip her panties on. “When I tell your mother she’s the most beautiful woman in the room today, I’ll be lying.”

Tori grabbed his face and bent over for a kiss. He adjusted her lingerie, smoothed her dress, and stood. She rubbed her fingers on the most obvious of the lipstick kisses she had left on his handsome face.

He smiled his thanks. “Let’s go get your mother married before she embarrasses the whole family with an illegitimate kid.”

“We need to stop at Lacey’s real quick and give Danny a kiss. Cheryl and her daughter are wrangling the kids while we do the official stuff.”

She stopped and grabbed her wrap and purse then proudly took her husband’s arm as he led her outside to the Mercedes SUV they just bought.

Life was just about as perfect as it could be.

* * *

Cam sat in the middle of domestic chaos and watched the amusing pre-wedding pandemonium swallow everything and everyone. Like it was for most everything, his house was the staging area for the kids and wives.

The chief strategist and bedlam wrangler in this free-for-all was Betty’s pal Cheryl—along with her daughter, nicknamed Bug, who helped run Stork Affairs. At first, he thought their system would be a guaranteed shitshow, but some sort of female logic existed with the way they managed the young kids and overexcited women.

He plopped a foot on one knee and enjoyed the show. Sipping from a mug of blazing hot coffee, he watched his wife zooming back and forth, her bare feet slapping the floor.

He grinned and blew on his hot beverage, so his tongue didn’t end up scalded. Dylan was being a bugger to Danny. Their developing dynamic closely resembled the one he shared with Drae—right down to Dyl finding his little buddy’s outfit hilariously funny.

“I’ve got him,” Cheryl declared as she grabbed a fast-moving Danny. “Bella, honey, can y’all lend me a hand?”

Bella, who lived to be helpful, ran to Cheryl’s side. “He needs his ball,” she remarked casually. She bent over and searched until she found the laughing ball Drae’s son was so in love with. The damn thing wobbled like a drunken Marine on leave and made giggle sounds when turned on.

“Don’t turn that thing on!” Bug and Cheryl hooted in a Texas-style twang.

Bella looked at the women like they were crazy. “He knows how.”

“Well, of course, he does. Why not?” The starting-to-get-frazzled party planner shook her head. “Whatever. If it keeps him in one place …”

Dylan strolled over in an adorable toddler swagger and smacked the ball out of Danny’s hands. It hit the floor with a thud and started vibrating as a cackling laugh rang out.

Both boys were instantly distracted.

Lacey dashed into the living room. She was so lovely in her pretty dress that his heart gave a little shimmy.

“I can’t find my earrings,” she mumbled. Her fingers were tugging an earlobe as her eyes frantically darted around the room.

Bug shouted, “Here they are.”

“Mama,” Dyl yelled. Danny looked up at Lacey and gave her a toothy grin.

Bella started twirling in a circle—pushing off on the hardwood floor with one foot while spinning in her shiny ballet flats. How did he know the style of her shoes was called that? Because a woman’s fascination with footwear apparently began quite early—it was all they talked about.

The commotion went supersonic when, in a relatively short period, more people arrived.

First, Tori and Drae appeared. As usual, the full force and focus of the St. John arrogance was on display when they came through the front door. With the smug facial expression of a man who was well taken care of—and yes, he meant that in a sexual way—he escorted a radiant Victoria with such devilish chutzpah that Cam laughed loudly.

The laugh earned him a stealthy ball grab and lip-curling sneer.

Tori sashayed like her mama taught and performed a perfect pirouette to the applauding approval and delight of the head-nodding females. Her red dress flared out and offered more than a peek of her legs. Drae was grinning like the fool that he was when he pointed at her shoes.

“Red soles,” he proudly announced.

What? Had he given birth to the fucking shoes? Cobbled them together in his woodshop? What a dick.

“Ooh,” Bella cooed. She stooped and closely inspected Tori’s red shoes. “I like red bottoms.”

Lacey laughed.

Then Cheryl and her daughter gave a funny hoot and high fived.

Tori smiled broadly and gathered Bella into a hug. “It’s good to know we’re raising you right, sweetie.”

Bella had no idea that a Junior Justice meme had just been born, but the ladies did. All he could do was groan and look at Drae.

Suddenly, Tori drew in a sharp breath, covered her mouth with both hands, and stared at Danny. “Just like his daddy.”

Drae went to his son, shoved a hand in one pocket, and placed the other on Daniel’s shoulder. Dressed alike, they each wore a classic tuxedo and a cocky smirk.

A bit of toddler belligerence shone through when Danny stomped a foot and vehemently shook his head. “No.”

Everyone stopped. Even Dylan. Daniel St. John had the floor.

“No,” he said again with another foot stomp.

Still nothing.

Bella chimed in. “He doesn’t like the shoes.”

Dylan concurred. He’d been gnawing on a finger shoved in his mouth but stopped to shake his head with jerky toddler humor.

“Oooohhh,” each of the assembled adults murmured at different times.

Cheryl clapped her hands together like a lady-in-waiting and demanded Danny’s sneakers. Stat.

Bella, Lacey, and Tori scurried. He and Drae exchanged another amused eye roll.

“Grab a coffee,” he said with a tilt of his head at the overloaded beverage cart.

“Has this been going on all morning?” Drae asked when he joined him on the sofa.

All around them, the bedlam was once again in full swing. He chuckled into his mug and shrugged.

“Alex should be here soon. He’s dropping off Meghan.”

“Why the hell didn’t he just have Ben run her down here? Isn’t he a bit busy with the bride right about now?”

Cam furtively glanced around, ascertained that they were being largely ignored, and set his mug on the coffee table.

“Something’s up.”

“With Meghan?”

“Nah. You feel it too, Drae, so don’t play dumb.”

Drae let out a frustrated grunt. “His shields are up, but I can’t get a beat on why. It’s way more than him overcompensating because of the twins.”

He mulled over how to respond. “Might not be connected but something strange happened last week.”

“Oh?” Drae also looked around. This wasn’t the time or place to get into this, but sometimes, shit just happened.

“Yeah. Got brushed off by Frank. Seemed odd to me. That’s not how we do.”

“Jesus,” Drae muttered.

Cam nodded at the concern flashing on the guy’s face. His old friend Colonel Frank Davis was the next best thing to having a top-level security clearance. They’d known each other forever—even longer than he’d known Drae. The man had red, white, and blue in his blood and had covered for Cam several times in their early days. Back when the order of the US military rubbed him the wrong way, and he pushed back against the rules.

He was also the first of Cam’s friends to meet Lacey—purely by happenstance. It was during a stopover where Frank was stationed that had led to an introduction. Like everyone else on the damn planet, he too fell for Ponytail’s gentle sweetness.

They touched base on the regular, so the unusual brush-off stood out.

Drumming his fingers on his thigh, Drae quietly asked, “He’s at the Pentagon now, right?”

“Counterintelligence.”

“Fuuuuuuck.”

Cam paused and looked at his friend. “It pings, doesn’t it?”

“Shit,” his friend muttered. “Damn straight, it pings. Oh, man,” he grumbled through a deepening frown. “I don’t like this at all, Cam.”

“It feels connected,” he grimly replied.

They sat silently for several minutes. “It’s odd, don’t you think?” Drae asked.

“What exactly?”

“Well,” Drae began as he sat forward and rested his forearms on his thighs. His hands clasped between his knees as he spoke quietly. “I was thinking the other day how strange it was that the cowboy prince sent that asinine dance arcade machine last year. Out of the blue.”

“Riiight,” Cam murmured. He remembered. It was odd. “While Alex was on his honeymoon.”

“Yeah,” Drae continued.

While he had hoped the pieces weren’t falling into place, Cam suspected they were on to something. “Ugh. My stomach hurts.”

“Major Alex is here!” Bella screamed at the top of her six-year-old lungs. She ran through the room at warp speed and flung open the front door.

They both stood and shook a leg. Cam buttoned his suit jacket and ran a hand through his hair.

“Look,” Drae muttered. Scowling, he looked him in the eye. “He’s not going to give anything up. Not till he’s ready. But I think in light of what Frank did, it’s best if we turn on the spigot. See what drips out.”

“I have a bad feeling.”

“Yeah, me too.”

Alex scooped up a beaming Bella as he swept through the door. “Gonna get in trouble with the wife,” he barked jokingly. Leaving loud smacking kisses on the kid’s happy face, he chortled. “But I saw the most beautiful girl in the world when she opened the door and had to come get some love.”

Bella’s joyful bear hug was adorable as shit. She thought Alex walked on water. In her mind, Alex was second only to that rat bastard Finn O’Brien.

“Oh, well. Pfft,” Meghan mugged from the doorway. “Left to waddle those stairs by myself and what do I find? My husband flirting with another girl.”

Bella jumped from Alex’s arms like a seasoned gymnast and hurried to Meghan. “You look pretty, Aunt Meghan.”

Bella held a childlike reverence for the Major’s wife. Because Alex was so perfect, she had put Meghan on a pedestal—right next to him.

“Thank you, sweetie,” Irish replied as she bent over for a smacking kiss. “But nowhere near as pretty as you are. Girlfriend!” Meghan hooted. “You make that dress look good.”

Bella’s beaming smile was bright enough to give them all a sunburn.

On his way to them, Alex stopped to fist bump the boys. As with Bella, they stuck to the Major like glue and followed right behind.

They were going through their usual handshake, hug, back slap when Bella’s laughter cut through the air.

“Look,” she gleefully exclaimed. Pointing at the boys, she excitedly drew everyone’s attention to Dyl and Danny doing a toddler’s rendition of their bro-hug.

“Drae,” Alex said briskly. “Have a minute?”

Cam and Drae exchanged concealed looks made easier by the kids’ shenanigans. He tried to telegraph through his expression to tread softly with the big guy. It didn’t require a doctorate to see that Alex was on edge.

Drae nodded to him as he walked down the hallway toward the study. It didn’t feel peachy-keen that whatever Alex needed to say required a secure room.

* * *

Putting on a good show of seriousness as the Major paced and issued orders, Drae leaned his butt against the desk and crossed his arms. Somehow, the position made it easier to reflect on Alex’s behavior. It was all there as soon as he opened his eyes.

The brittleness lurking in the far reaches of his expression. A slight listing to one side. The way his hands became part of the conversation—each gesture sharp and forceful. When Alex stopped his nearly manic movements for a few seconds, Drae groaned inwardly at the biggest tell of them all. After a quick finger scrub through his hair, Alex’s hand fell to his side and pushed against the part of his leg that took the brunt of the bomb blast, which nearly killed him.

Shit. How had he missed it? Yeah, it was true that Alex had moments of seeming a bit off—moments that made him pause—but he hadn’t looked further. And he should have.

Had he been phoning it in from the bliss cocoon where he, Victoria, and Danny set up camp? The thought made his jaw clench.

Then a flashing light went on in his head. Oh, holy fuck. Where in the hell was his common sense?

Alex clamming up made sense. Of course. From the moment he and Meghan came home after their honeymoon, it had been one thing after another.

Cam being spirited away by the Feds went over like a fart in church. Finding out Lacey was unexpectedly pregnant at the same moment Cam’s status became murky in a deadly sort of way hadn’t helped. At all.

Then Finn was dumped on them for a wake-up call that led to the shithead Irishman buying Whiskey Pete’s. A situation that put quite a crimp in many a pair of shorts.

The emotion of Gus leaving the Villa and being replaced by Remington Bisset along with her cousin Jace Delacroix—not to mention Remy’s dubious coupling with the aforementioned Irishman—was no picnic either.

Then there was Carmen and her amusing romance with the head of Justice security, Duke Winston.

Add to that a bunch of pregnant women, the opening of the family center, a couple of weddings, the arrival and subsequent falling in love with Bella Mia, and the picture was almost clear.

As if all that wasn’t enough, Alex’s parents retired and returned to the States in time for the holidays. Aided and abetted by Parker’s folks, having the elders on the scene had been challenging for Alex. Maybe it still was.

And then the icing on the cake. Sophie Marquez came marching home too, quite literally carrying the mother of all surprises in the form of a pregnancy that was pretty far along.

No wonder Alex wasn’t saying anything. How could he with everyone wrapped up in their own shit?

He felt like the worse friend possible but didn’t know what to do about it.

“Whatever happens, Drae, don’t let her do too much. She doesn’t recognize her limits, you know? She’ll be fine one second and then bam. Hit the wall.”

“Okay. I understand. Went through something similar with Victoria. And I read you loud and clear about keeping Meghan off her feet. Don’t worry, man. I’ve got this.”

Alex absently plucked at the cuff of his shirt. The distracted move said a lot about his state of mind.

“Have you talked to Calder?” Drae tried changing the subject to lighten the mood. It was a wedding day, after all. Laughing, he commented, “I cannot believe your uncle is going to be my father-in-law. Dude! That is so fucked up.”

“My father and Uncle Ed have him on lockdown. Mom says the bridegroom had an episode when Stephanie left to spend the night at the big house. Pussy,” he added with a gruff chuckle.

“Been there. Done that.”

Alex brightened. Being apart from their women was not something any of them took lightly. “Indeed.”

“Have you heard anything about the top-secret honeymoon that old fart has up his sleeve?”

“I’ll tell you, but I swear to god, St. John. If you let Tori in on the surprise, I will rearrange your face—and it won’t be pretty.”

“Man.” Drae chuckled. “This must be some serious chick shit for that level of threat.”

“Bitches like romance,” Alex drawled. “Your wife, I believe, prints the t-shirts.”

“Ha!” He barked with laughter. “Learned a lot from my little nerd queen. Like how to track my fucking dog with a GPS sensor and why not to send dirty pictures through a non-secure server.”

“Yeah? Well, she’ll shit over what Unc has planned. Ya know, Stephanie walked away from a career and the life she built. That took balls, and Calder knows it. There was no way to have her friends come to the wedding—not for a small, family-centered event. And then there’s the whole baby thing.”

“Holy fuckballs,” Drae murmured when he started seeing where this was going.

Alex smiled broadly. “He’s been coordinating with Stephanie’s former business partner. He’s taking her to Atlanta, and they’re staying in a high-end rental complete with staff. They’re hooked up for a wedding reception at the Four Seasons and an over-the-top baby shower.”

“There’s no way I’m telling Victoria any of that. Makes me look like a massive jerk because I’ve never taken her anywhere.”

“That’s because you knocked her up right away and then tried to blow up your family with dumbassery.”

He grinned. It wasn’t a compliment, but he didn’t care. His stupidity was well on the way to urban legend territory

“And besides”—Alex snickered—“aren’t you guys headed off on a searching for Big Foot adventure?”

“Oh, yeah. Real romantic.” He scoffed. “Don’t think hanging with Desi and the kids and listening to Tyler give environmental workshops rises to the level of bitches and romance.”

“My advice? Be nice to the in-law. As to the romance thing, I’m sure you’re creative enough to figure something out.”

“What are you guys up to while we all take off? With Calder and Stephanie gone, plus Cam taking the fam to Denver and us being gone, it’s going to be quiet around here.”

“Good,” Alex replied a bit too quickly. “Some peace and calm would be great.”

Keeping his voice light and body language loose, he picked up a stapler off the desk and inspected it as if it was his first look at one. “Anything you wanna discuss?”

Alex’s gaze dropped, and he looked away. The room was so quiet he could hear the barely audible snick of the second hand moving on the wall clock.

Just when he was sure the question would suffer a clever dodge, the Major looked him in the eye.

“We should probably talk. When you get back. No rush.”

He knew a brick wall when it appeared in his path. That was all he would offer, but Drae came back with two final questions.

“Are you all right? Is Meghan all right?”

Rubbing his forehead, Alex sighed. “I’m fine. We’re fine.” Then he looked at him. Some things you just know, and with this one expression, Drae knew a ghost from the past was hovering just out of sight.

“I’ve gotta go.” Alex checked his watch. “Jace will be at the house in an hour. You'd better get this bunch in gear and start making your way to the chapel.”

Before leaving the study, Drae put out his hand and stopped his old friend. “Alex. I’m here when you’re ready to talk.”

A cold, malevolent glint shone in his eyes. “When I can’t contain it any more, you’ll be one of the first to know.”

Well, shit. They’d breached the subject, but Drae wasn’t at all relieved or happy about where things stood.