Page 36 of Welker

“Never easy to lose a colleague,” Hayden responded lamentably. “And Murphy?”

“Since his hiring, he’s been completely sucking up to both our bosses’ asses.”

“Got it,” Hayden replied. “I can make this work,” she said with confidence. “Give me your number so I can let you know if I’ve been hired, then we can keep in touch, sharing info as things unfold.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

Moira shot off her contact info and received Hayden’s in return. She really liked the sound of the no-nonsense woman.

“Talk soon,” Hayden replied, then disconnected.

“She’s great, isn’t she?” Mason asked, smiling as Moira handed back his phone.

“You’ve met her?” Moira questioned.

“A few times. You know I went to college with Quint, right?”

Moira nodded.

“Well, Hayden is one of his close friends. When I go out to visit, we inevitably end up at Quint’s favorite bar, surrounded by his buds.”

It sounded a little bit like what this SWAT team had been doing on their off time, and even though Moira hadn’t joined in all that much, she’d envied the easy comradery. Maybe she’d?—

“Speaking of which…” Cisco stopped next to them on his way out to the dumpster; a busted-up kitchen cabinet in his hands. “A bunch of us are checking out that new place for drinks tonight that just opened in town. It’s called Harper’s. You and Everlee going to join us?” he asked Mason.

“Sure. What time?”

“How does eight sound? That gives everyone time to go home and eat first. We’ll throw back a few beers, your preggers wife can sip seltzer, and,” he grinned, “they have a slew of skee-ball machines in an adjacent room so I can show off my prowess,” he added slyly.

Welker snorted. “You know I always kick your ass when we go to Old Orchard Beach, Cisco.” Not waiting for a reply to that challenge, Welk turned to Moira. “What do you say? You want to go?”

Moira hesitated. He was inviting her? Specifically? “I’ve, uh, never played skee-ball.”

“What?” Both Welker and Cisco stared at her as if she had three heads.

“Is that a crime?” She immediately got her back up. Yeah, she knew about those boardwalk arcade places, but she’d never been to one. It wasn’t as if her father had given a shit about her entertainment when she was young. During college, she supposed she could have tagged along when some of her loosely bonded group went, but she’d been afraid of embarrassing herself with her lack of skills.

“Nope,” Welker was quick to reassure her. “But now you have to come.”

Moira didn’t know how to wiggle out of the offer. She was staying with Welker, and Welker was clearly going. So…

“I guess,” she shrugged.

“Good. It’s a plan,” Cisco replied merrily. “I’ll go see how many more of our team I can round up.”

Knowing Cisco-the-gregarious, Moira figured he’d have nearly all fifty SWAT members crowding around tables, not to mention the “significant others” a number of her teammates had added over the past couple years. Moira hoped he’d warned the manager at Harper’s that they’d be taking over the place.

Welker gently grasped her elbow, which gave her a pleasant jolt, and drew her off to the side. “We don’t have to go if you’re fearful to be seen in public, but with most of our team present, I’m pretty sure you’ll be safe.”

Moira wasn’t concerned for her safety. She was thinking about her social discomfort. And…what the hell would she wear?

“I don’t have any clothes,” she let fall from her mouth.

Welker raised a brow, giving her a significant perusal, up and down, to which she almost blushed.

“What’s wrong with what you’ve got on?”

Typical guy. First, she was wearing what she’d call, average-chick-workout-clothes, and who went to a venue like Cisco had described, in black-stretchy stuff? Second, as soon as she’d begun pitching in to throw her busted up stuff into the dumpster, she’d become dirty, sweaty, and probably stinky.

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