Page 93 of Luck of the Draw

The atmosphere was filled with the scent of all things sweet, savory, and spicy, along with the sound of Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong crooning old jazz from speakers hidden somewhere. The gathering in the kitchen encapsulated everything that the best version of New Orleans could be. All the things she loved about the city that was her home but couldn’t enjoy because of how dangerous it was for her. But for this one moment in time, she relished it like a bittersweet hug.

Liza held Skye’s shoulders and presented her to the small crowd. “Everybody say hi to Skye. She’s with Brennan.”

The group waved and offered a cacophony of greetings, and Brennan stepped away from Skye and Liza to make his way around the room, kissing the cheeks of every female present and then shaking with all the men.

“How the fuck are ya, you fine-as-fuck mother fucker?” Connor crowed, holding out his upturned palm to Brennan.

Brennan met his palm with a slap and shook with him. “Shouldn’t you be careful with all that language, Sarge? When does a fetus grow ears?” He crossed his arms over his chest and then stood between Scott and Luke. “Your kid’s gonna come out of the womb cussin’ like a damn sailor.”

“Bite your tongue, Marine,” the middle-aged man piped up. “My grandchild will never be in the Navy.” He gestured at the floor with his beer bottle. “Drop and give me fifty.”

Brennan’s mouth hung open slightly as he glanced at Connor with an incredulous expression.

Connor slapped the back of his hand against Brennan’s chest. “Don’t look at me like that, Riley. You heard the Captain. Front-leaning rest position, move!”

Brennan hesitated for all of a microsecond before he shrugged out of his jacket, shoved it against Connor’s chest, tossed his tie over his shoulder, and dropped to the floor. Connor planted his foot between Brennan’s shoulders and counted off the push-ups through laughter.

“Well shit.” Luke laughed. “I’m impressed, Riley. How old are you now?”

“Not as old as your girlfriend,” Brennan said as his nose tapped the floor, and he pushed himself up again. “Oh wait, you don’t have one, do you?”

“Haa haa haa.” Luke pointed at him with the beer bottle. “You’re in a vulnerable position right now, Riley. I think this is the perfect opportunity for me to expose you for the shitbird that you really are.”

“Shitbird?” Connor slid a squinting glance toward Luke’s face. “Eleven hundred yards, Corporal.”

“Never seen Maggie’s drawers, Corporal,” Brennan chimed in, still not even the least bit out of breath.

Skye leaned toward Liza and lowered her voice. “What are they even saying to each other?”

Liza paused while the two women watched the very male interaction on full display. “Eleven hundred yards is a Marine Corps record Brennan set when he was a sniper, and ‘Maggie’s drawers’ is a flag they hold up on a firing range when someone misses a shot.” She snickered. “I don’t know who Maggie is, and none of them have ever bothered to explain why the flag is her underwear.”

Skye looked at Liza and then back at Brennan as he effortlessly continued the push-ups. “He never missed a shot?”

“Nope. He was basically a killing machine.”

Skye cringed. “Yikes.”

“Yeah.” Liza frowned. “He doesn’t like it though. I mean, he has complicated feelings about his time in the Marines. He doesn’t like talking about it. Like, to anybody.” She paused and sighed almost inaudibly. “But the silver lining is…because I always have to try to see the silver lining…he’s extremely antiviolence. I’ve never personally seen him in a situation where violence of any kind came into play, but Connor apparently has, and he calls himSergeant Pacifist. Because he just won’t raise a hand or a fist or whatever to anybody. I bet if someone ever challenged him to a fistfight, he’d just stand there and take it or walk away.”

Skye stared at Brennan like he was the eighth world wonder while he continued doing push-ups. The information was oddly comforting. The idea that someone who was more than capable of killing a person would refuse to raise a hand toanyonewas completely foreign to her.

Liza turned to face Skye directly, wearing a hopeful smile. “Maybe you should see if he’ll talk about it with you.”

Skye drew back her face as she forced her emotional wall way up. “If he doesn’t like talking about that with you, he definitely doesn’t want to talk about it with me.”

“Hmmm…” Liza hummed mischievously, coyly lifting her gaze up and away from Skye’s face. “I bet you’rewro-ong,” she sing-songed. “I bet he’d talk about all kinds of stuff with you that he won’t talk about with the rest of us.”

Only because he’s falling in love with me, and I’m going to leave and break his heart, and I don’t really want to make that worse by getting him to bare his soul to me about stuff that obviously bothers him.

Skye looked away from Liza and offered a neutral, “Maybe.”

Brennan pushed off the floor, stood up straight and tall as he saluted the Captain, who saluted him back. “As you were, Sergeant.” He slapped Brennan’s shoulder. “Go get yourself a cold drink.”

“Thank you, sir!” Brennan shouted before whipping around to pull Luke into a headlock. “Now you’re gonna pour my fuckin’ drink, jarhead.”

“For God’s sake,” Scott piped up. “Can y’all please save the language for the gym or something?” He flipped his hand at the little girl coloring on eggs at the table. “Caroline’s right there.”

“It’s okay, Daddy,” Caroline said. “Mama says that language is not ladylike, and I’m a lady.”

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