“I don’t need any shit, Alex. It’s one goddamn day. Deal with it.”

Good fucking god! There was so much confusing subtext swirling in the air that Alex had no clue which way was up. He had never seen Domineau like this in all the years he’d known her. Hells bells, man, she was even starting to look different. Or maybe his head had been up his ass until now, and he was finally starting to see the woman hiding in the smoke.

Fuck, when he looked at it that way, he felt like a giant dick. It didn’t sit well on his conscience that he’d never considered much about Domineau on a personal level. Was it possible that thinking himself a good guy was nothing more than a pass? Scratching the surface with her was never necessary. Until now.

He studied her. She was angrily stuffing her shit into … what? A purse?

Now see? he thought. That, right there, showed what a one-dimensional fuckwad he was. Why was he so surprised that she carried a purse? Because it was something females did? Not thinking about Smoke as a female was practically a part-time job for Team Justice. Well, he admitted, all of Team Justice except for that fucker Rafe. Alex began to chuckle.

“What the fuck are you snickering about?” she demanded.

His brow arched on its own, and he gave her the smirky-eyed shade he excelled at as a commanding officer. For no reason other than he knew she would blow up in response—and it would be amusing to watch—he boldly growled, “Tone, Rivera. Watch it.”

Adopting a mental catcher’s pose, he waited for her return volley and ended up ducking to avoid getting smacked in the face by the giant container of Advil she hurled at his head.

Holy shitballs!

“Don’t ever tell me to watch it, dude!” She continued jamming things in her purse and added some snarling mutters. “Don’t know how Red puts up with your shit. Dimwitted males. Get a clue. I fucking hate you.”

Alex almost gasped when she took a half-assed shot at Meghan, and thought, Oh no, she did not!

“Maybe my wife and your boy toy should compare notes.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“One of us is definitely full of shit.”

“Are you implying I’m a bitch?”

Okay. Now they were officially in cuckoo territory. Was she a bitch? Hell, yeah. Would he ever say that to her face? Not if he wanted to keep his balls.

His laughter was real. She glared.

“Domineau,” he drawled between chuckles. “I’ve been a wartime commander and run a business that depends on an excess of fuckery. My personal posse is a bunch of jokers, clowns, and shitheads. And don’t get me started on the squad of ass-kicking females I have to deal with. But lady, this is a first, and I’m sorry, but if you don’t see how funny this is from my seat at the head of the table, you have no sense of humor.”

She crossed her arms, cocked a hip, and tried really, really hard to appear menacing. He only laughed harder.

“I swear on all that’s holy, Alex, if you make a big deal out of this or turn it into a Justice meme, I will not be nice about it. No red tide jokes or boxes of pads stacked in my doorway. Understand?”

He put his hands up in mock surrender. “I guess the most I can hope for is that all your cycles sync up. That’s a thing, right? When women congregate, all their periods eventually line up?”

“What in the fucking fuck is wrong with you?” she shrieked. “Did you even bother to think that through before it fell out of your stupid mouth?

“Of course, I did,” he teased. “And your reaction was worth every macho pig word.”

“Aw, Jesus Christ, Alex. Come on. Cut it out.”

“Okay, okay.” He surprised them both by walking straight through the protective wall she kept around her for a quick hug.

Bending to retrieve the plastic container of pain meds, he shook it and handed it back. “If my wife were here, she’d be giving you all kinds of shit for thinking that was gonna help. You should talk to her. She’s got an intuitive way with these things.”

“Oh, yeah,” she grumbled. “Can you see me prancing about in yoga pants carrying a mat and wearing crystals?”

He caught the self-conscious vibe but didn’t react. Instead, he added a quiet factoid to the conversation and let it hang there, waiting for her reaction.

“It’s not just the ladies, Domineau. Rafe takes her class at the Double M, and she’s helping him develop a mind-body module option for Justice sessions.”

“You have an answer for everything, don’t you?”

He shrugged off her snarky implication. “That’s why I’m the Major.”

Her amused snicker surprised him. “You are a piece of work, Marquez.”

“And you are a pain in the ass. Newsflash, you’re in charge. Your schedule is your own. If you need a mental health day once a month, it’s totally fine by me. Have you decided on an assistant? Taking on somebody who can pick up after you would make things easier.”

“Calder stuck his nose in and made a damn list of possibilities. He’s micromanaging. The guy needs to chill out.”

“Ha! Ha! You want to be the one to suggest that to him?”

She reached out and gave his shoulder a hearty push. “Nah! I’m good. That guy scares the shit out of me—no lie.”

“Calder? You’re joking, right? Mister peace, love, surf the waves, and raise the planetary consciousness through science?”

“Yeah, and that’s why. Weird shit happens after he’s been around. It’s as if technology bows down to him. I don’t like it. Creeps me out.”

Alex grinned. “He’s just fucking with you.”

“Oh,” she vehemently snarled, “so you admit he’s doing something? What is it? Some traveling force field? You know I’m working on my third phone since I got here, right? That asshole owes me.”

“I’ll ask him to stop.” He chuckled. “Shit, Domineau, I realize it’s that time of the month but lighten up, would you?”

Her fast as lightning right hook put him on his knees.

She grabbed her purse and stomped to the door. “You totally deserved that for being an asshole.”

He was laughing so hard as the door slammed that it took a minute to get back on his feet.

Domineau came marching toward them in a not so friendly stomp. “Get the fuck out of my way, Nancy Drew, and take that giggling hyena with you!”

Cam laughed and gave Domineau a courtly bow complete with hand flourishes along with all the mockery he had at his disposal. “Whatever you say, your holiness.”

Drae shoved both hands in his pockets and performed some snarkily appropriate hyena cackling.

Domineau looked like she was about to blow. “Oh, fuck off mullet head,” she snapped. “That business in the front, party in the back bullshit isn’t a good look for you, St. John.”

Grabbing his crotch, Drae suggested she gag on his cock. This testy interplay was familiar. Cam was a longtime audience member for the Sinjin and Smoke show.

“You do not wanna go there,” she warned.

Cam sniggered. “What’s got your panties in a bunch?”

The look she gave him almost melted his socks. Her sneer was also familiar. “Hurry along, girls. You’ll probably have to help Alex off the floor.”

She turned away from them and continued into the lobby where she turned around and flipped them off before heading to the exit.

“It was the panties in a bunch, wasn’t it?” Cam asked.

Drae shrugged. “Knickers in a twist. Butt floss malfunction. Undies up your crack. Boxer banana. She was gonna go off no matter how you put it.”

“My wife thinks we treat Smoke like one of the boys.”

“Victoria complains about the same thing.”

They looked at each other. Cam felt like a jerk, and Drae’s expression suggested he was experiencing something similar.

“I said it wasn’t a problem before now and thought my wife was going to rip my head off.”

Cam grunted. “Lacey’s exact words when I tried that same excuse were, ‘That was then, and this is now.’ What the hell does that mean?”

“Well, I’m pretty sure it means that the Domineau version we see now isn’t necessarily the same version we dealt with while running around the desert trying not to get killed.”

“Fuck,” Cam mumbled. “I kind of get it. Explains her suddenly wearing makeup. I figured that was just because of Rafe.”

Drae’s amused snort echoed in the empty hallway. “Whatever the reason, we’re dealing with a real, live girl now.”

“Oh, hey.” Cam chuckled as he remembered what Smoke said. “Do you think she knocked him out?”

Draegyn St. John’s face when he thought Alex had gotten his ass handed to him was a thousand kinds of hilarious and wrong at the same time. He smacked him on the chest and took off to the small meeting room in a faster than usual sprint.

“Ten bucks says she smacked him!”

Cam threw back his head and roared with laughter.

Drae rushed into the meeting room, expecting to find Alex on the floor like a turtle lying upside down on his shell, but he found him in the middle of taking a selfie.

Cam rushed in right behind and pushed him out of the way. “Whoa. That’s some paw print, Major. Get attacked by Mike Tyson?”

Alex gave a hearty laugh. “Smoke didn’t care for my manners.”

“Smoke did that?” Drae scoffed with a snort. “That’s your problem, man. My wife is right. We have to start thinking of Domineau as Domineau. And not Domineau as Smoke. She’s an X chromosome, guys.”

“An X chrome with a mean punch,” Alex said with a hand on his jaw.

“Did you ask for it?” Cam wanted to know.

“Totally. And she didn’t disappoint.”

He laughed at the absurdity of Alex pushing Domineau’s buttons while Cam plopped into a chair and suggested they get down to business. After some time spent shuffling papers and tapping on phones, Alex cleared his throat, and they all sat forward at the small conference table.

“Is there a problem?” Drae asked.

“No,” Alex answered. “And I want to keep it that way.”

Drae noticed the curt answer and zeroed in on Alex’s vibe. Something else was definitely going on. He sighed heavily and sat back.

“What the fuck, Alex? We have known each other too long for you to pull some bullshit out of your ass. Tell us what is really going on.”

“It isn’t that simple, Drae.”

Cam tapped his fingers on the table and looked at them. “This is more of that ‘something is wrong, but you don’t know what’ crap—am I right?”

The idea of someone hacking into the Major’s security unsettled Drae.

“I think it’s a both a warning and a canary.” Alex’s tone was somber but direct.

None of this made any sense. “Who would probe and to what end?”

Drae’s stomach sank when Alex used his Major growl. “Our list of enemies is endless. If I didn’t know Polaris was taking a permanent dirt nap, I’d suspect him.”

Anger—pure, unadulterated anger—mixed with hatred bubbled up inside him. And not just at the Polaris situation. Drae was sick and fucking tired of that goddamn war and everything around it constantly circling to bite them on the ass.

“You brought Domineau here to make sure she didn’t get sucked into the Polaris blowback.” Cam’s statement was a previously unspoken assumption that he and his friend shared.

Alex grunted. “She drew the short stick.”

“I don’t recall drawing sticks,” Drae mumbled while Cam nodded in agreement.

“All right, whatever. Let’s not get lost in the weeds, or we’ll be wearing tin foil hats and suspecting half of the Pentagon and most of the CIA are fucking with us. Domineau is in protective Justice custody. As it should be. I’m glad she’s here. What’s next?”

Alex picked up a letter and waved it around. Drae suspected this was the real reason for calling a meeting.

“Heard from your Australian butt buddies. They’re sponsoring a tactical assault group for a work session in December. I know how much you love having a bunch of Aussie commandos swaggering around.”

Cam groaned like a dying man. “Fuck my life. Olie and Ethan?”

“That would be Major General Oliver Davies,” Alex drawled.

Out of habit and reflex, Drae rubbed the bicep where a tribal tattoo wrapped around his arm. He and Cam had matching tats. Oliver had half of the same ink. Only half because he started crying like a baby and tapped out while Ethan stood back and directed the tattoo parlor shitstorm that was made worse by too much alcohol. Smarmy fuck.

“They’ve requested that Sinjin present a martial arts demonstration.”

Drae’s head snapped up, and he pinned Alex to the spot with an angry growl. “Excuse me?”

Laughter erupted as Cam slapped his hand on the table and howled.

Frowning at them, Drae gave off the unfortunate air of a snotty chick when he sarcastically pointed out that he didn’t do command performances.

Oliver Davies was a full-on Aussie ratbag with a shitty attitude. He was also the only person ever to force a tap out from Drae. He told himself the reason the guy got the better of him was because of the two local ladies Drae had entertained the night before.

Australia Day was responsible for two random moments in his life. A shit-tacular Jim Beam-fueled tattoo and having his martial arts ass handed to him after a rowdy all-nighter. To this day, Drae remained convinced Oliver arranged the man-whore distraction as a way to gain an advantage.

It didn’t help Drae’s ego that Cam along with Ethan Truscott witnessed and participated in his mortifying downfall.

“Alex. You know he’s just trying to start some shit. Request denied and I don’t care if that makes me a pussy. This semi-retired stuff and being a part-time stay-at-home dad means I’m out of shape. I can still kick both your sorry asses, but no fucking way am I getting into it with a professional commando. Not without some serious training first.”

Cam sniggered. “First? That sounds to me like a maybe.”

“No!”

Alex rubbed it in. “Well, Cam, sounds to me like no means no.”

Drae snarled. “Are you trying to get punched twice in one day?”

There was something so fucked up about their dynamic. Fucked up and staggeringly funny.

“Message received and noted.” Alex chortled. “Cam! Make a note. Request by the Australian contingent vehemently denied.”

The two did their usual fall over laughing antics.

“I fucking hate you guys.”

Several long discussions later, Alex pinned him with a look. “Oliver Davies and Ethan Truscott’s timing is advantageous, don’t you think?”

Cam jumped in. “We’ll be needing them, huh?”

They all looked at each other, but nobody said another word.

When her phone twinkled with the sound she assigned to Alex, Meghan picked it up from the counter and opened the contact. It showed a selfie of her man with a clear red mark on his jaw and the text message You may have to mediate future meetings with Domineau.

“Is that Alex?” Stephanie asked.

They were ending their meeting before the meeting get-together and getting ready to make the move down to the old Justice business center. The Justice ladies had morphed into a powerhouse squad of very busy women. With everyone going full tilt 24/7, the only way to get them all on the same page at the same time was to initiate actual sit-down get-togethers where they brainstormed, shared, coordinated, planned, and synchronized.

By unanimous consent, Stephanie took charge. Presently, their squad consisted of Justice females over the legal drinking age. When the whole fam-damily was in attendance, they numbered more than a dozen.

Meghan nodded. “Yes, and it looks like Domineau was in rare form.”

“Oh, dear.” Stephanie tut-tutted. “What now?”

“In a nutshell, the boys are having a hard time understanding that they can’t act like every day is a mission and treat her like one of the guys.”

Stephanie nodded. “That’s not who she is anymore. Not all the time. I see her at work. It’s not easy being a woman in a man’s job.”

Meghan immediately bristled. “Where does it say that’s only a man’s job?”

“Shugah,” Stephanie drawled. “You know what I mean. And sexism is not the point. She has to wrangle an endless parade of testosterone junkies. Doing her job as a girly girl would lead to a lot of wasted time, and she’s not here for hand-holding. That’s all I’m saying.”

Meghan heard Stephanie’s point and stated the obvious. “She’s having a tough time navigating the two things. Hard nosed and kicker of ass by day versus hair down seductress off the clock.”

“When you think about it, quite a few of us play those parts. It is possible to be both, but in Domineau’s case, I don’t believe she’s had much, if any, experience separating the two before now.”

“Rafe,” they said in unison.

They were walking along the path out to the back driveway when Stephanie asked why she should anticipate some rare form from Domineau.

“She smacked Alex.”

Stephanie stumbled to a halt. Meghan smirked, nodded at the unspoken question, and gave a dry explanation. “I keep telling him to stop needling her, but does he listen?”

“I knew there was a reason I liked her.” Stephanie chuckled.

Stashing their stuff in the cart’s carrier, they wasted no time getting the electric cart moving. Despite it being the end of October, it was hellaciously hot. And still. No air was moving. The cart zipped along and offered some relief—but not much.

Stephanie, who was always prepared for everything, whipped a beautiful Oriental fan out of her bag, snapped it open with Geisha flair, and fanned herself. “Calder, Wolf, and Duke took the big kids to the trampoline place. Ben squeezed the whole group into a van.”

“I know.” Meghan laughed. “And Ria tried to lay down the law about him getting on a trampoline.”

They giggled at the men’s foolishness.

“Where is everyone else?”

Meghan did the rundown. “Well, let’s see. My father-in-law and Matt Sullivan have Teo, Aiden, and Stevie down at the pool. Ryder and Lily, for some strange reason, are with Brody. After the boys finish with their meeting, I imagine there will be some sort of roundup. I try not to ask.”

Stephanie laughed. “I know! They get so salty when questioned.”

It was a quick trip to the former business center. The building was technically in the family zone. After the Justice compound shifted deeper onto the property and away from all of them, the building started changing. The upstairs apartments sat empty. Only Remy maintained on-site residence. For now.

Betty’s former business domain was being slowly taken over by the women. Meghan liked using the big conference room. It had lots of windows but needed a couple of ceiling fans. They discovered quite by accident that Betty’s old office locked and gave Stephanie the task of going around to collect all the keys. Alex knew better than to ask, and since he gave her all the benefit of the doubt, she eventually gave him a guided tour of the refurbished office.

Her husband was flabbergasted, amused, and impressed with her reasoning and execution. One of the very first things the squad debated and voted on was creating a private room specifically for the purpose of stashing gifts and wrapping presents.

They got together one afternoon, kids and all, to rip out the old carpet because Heather insisted she learned how on a home improvement show. The exhausting, difficult exercise was all they needed to turn over the labor to experienced hands.

All the women were given a ceremonial key and signed an oath to keep the room’s contents confidential.

After the wrapping room, they worked on the bathroom, adding a changing table and more cabinets for storing supplies.

They were still developing a concept for the conference room, but one thing was certain. There was unanimous agreement that Remy would do the wall art, and Kelly agreed enthusiastically to design some beautiful stained-glass hangers in the windows and a couple of cool table lamp shades.

“We’re here first,” Stephanie pointed out. They dashed into the building like thieves on the run and headed to the refrigerator for cold water. It was a short, pleasant ride from the big house to the edge of the barn complex where the business was located, but the dry heat made even five minutes outside challenging.

Stephanie checked the wall thermostat and lowered the temperature so the air conditioning would kick on.

“Hey,” Meghan said, “aren’t you and Calder headed out this weekend?”

“Oh my goodness, I can’t wait. A spa weekend with a husband desperate to be parted from his cash.”

They laughed. Stephanie asked after Carmen. The strain of traveling and having her life go through an upheaval stage took the woman down hard. She’d been ordered to bed rest while Duke and young Paul took on nursemaid duties.

The A/C kicked on. Meghan pulled on the collar of her shirt to aid in cooling her skin. “Tori can’t wait to have her little brother under the same roof with her boys. She told Alex that Danny has a party plan!”

“I hope it’s not too much for her. Ryder is still so little, and Draegyn has been a bit of a bear about enforcing her maternity leave.”

“She’s doing great, Stephanie. Really. I know Drae drew a firm line in the sand, but after what happened when Daniel was born, I think he did the right thing. She’s glowing, the baby is thriving, Danny is amazing, and the St. John marriage is strong. It’s time for her to do more than spend a few random hours holding Alex’s hand in the tech cave. She’s ready, so don’t fret.”

A commotion outside drew their attention. They dashed to the door in time to see Cal Merrill operating a small forklift loaded with god only knows what.

“What in blue blazes is going on?” Stephanie asked.

“Didn’t you hear?” Meghan drawled. “My husband is renovating the floor above us. He’s essentially converting the three small apartments into one.”

Stephanie’s face expressed her surprise. “Why?”

“Remington.” That was all Meghan had to say.

“Oh, I see. And Finn? Is he part of this?”

“Yes, he is,” she confirmed. “Right down to a grass pooper pad for FiFi.”

“I like those two. They fit, you know what I mean? Your brother has grown up. He isn’t the same boob he was when he arrived.”

Meghan chortled and made a face. “Did you just call my brother a boob?”

“If the bra fits,” the Southern belle replied in a comically snarky tone.

Meghan laughed. Truer words had never been said.