Page 62 of What I Should Have Known

Raiden jumped out of Ford’s hold and looked directly at me with pursed lips.

Ford cackled, stooping to snatch his duffels up. “It’s you, dumbass.” He shrugged the straps of his rucksack tighter onto his shoulders and stepped inside the house with a loud plunk. His eyes scanned the surroundings as Raiden closed the door behind him. The moment he’d finished taking in the new house, he plopped his luggage off to the side, slid the backpack from his arms, and adjusted his green T-shirt.

Stalking across the floor, I met Ford, and he clamped his arms around me. Not a word passed between us for a moment, as Raiden’s voice filled the muted space but not with words I cared to listen to.

Then in sync, we clapped each other’s backs and stepped away. “How were the waves?” I asked.

He shrugged. “Not the best, but seeing old friends was nice.”

“So, how long are you staying?”

“How long are you gonna ask me that damn question?”

“Until the fucking answer changes.” I grinned and trudged around the counter back to my cereal.

Ford shook his head. “Until we deploy again. Like usual.”

“Let me rephrase, when are you going to go see your family?” I picked up my bowl and took a casual bite as Ford leaned his elbows against the kitchen island across from me.

“It’s been fourteen years, Bernie, and my answer still hasn’t changed,” he grumbled, his Cajun accent slipping through the words for the first time in forever.

“That’s a long time to hold a grudge.”

“No grudge.”

“Oh, right. Just some multi-generational family rivalry or some shit.”

He rolled his eyes and waved his hand in dismissal. “Where’s Mama and her damn cookies?”

“You don’t get to call her that,” I replied with a wink, ignoring the fact that he so quickly changed the subject from something he almost never spoke about, and the little he did, left much to be imagined.

“Not what she said last time I had her bent over the kitchen counter.” He grinned.

“Can we not start with your mama jokes?” Raiden muttered, narrowing his gaze, and reminding me he was still here.

“Oh, shit. Sorry.” Ford chuckled and inhaled deeply. “Really though, I want some cookies, please tell me she made some.” He wandered aroundthe island over to the red Tupperware sitting next to the bowl of fruit. With a pop, he lifted the lid and dug into the desserts.

“You’ll be here until you guys get orders again, right?” Raiden asked as Ford stuffed a bit of cookie in his mouth. We both nodded as he hoisted himself up onto the counter with a grunt. The light from the window snapped across his eyes, highlighting the heterochromia that I often forgot he had. One hazel eye while the other one was brown, his gaze shot to mine with a raised brow.

“Where the fuck is your shirt?” he asked, crumbs spewing from his lips.

“That’s what I asked!” Raiden threw his hands in the air as I shoved another spoonful of cereal into my mouth.

“I was busy this morning,” I muttered through the food.

“It takes like five seconds to put a shirt on.” Ford ripped some more cookie between his teeth.

“When Griffin has time to talk on the fucking phone, you chat.”

“Griffin? The fuck were you talking to him for?”

“I—”

“You know what,” Ford quickly inserted, stopping me, and narrowed his eyes. Every deep-set line on his face darkened. “Let me ask a better question. What shit are you wound up in?”

My mouth fell open, a few marshmallows plunked off the side of the spoon and back into the bowl. “Why the fuck is that your assumption?”

Raiden chuckled. “Again, because it’s you.”

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