Page 51 of All Twisted Up
“What?” Candy asked, frowning at me.
“It’s something the new guy told me.” When he looked like he still didn’t get it, I rolled my eyes and explained. “When Miguel Huerta got in trouble as a kid, his abuela would make him kneel on uncooked corn as punishment.” I leaned forward, stage whispering, “On her tile floors.”
Candy looked suddenly alarmed, shooting a glance at the glowering woman. “You’re right. We’d better get out of here. Sorry, ma’am.” He started heading for the side of the house as we followed. I held back a laugh, confident in the fact that at leastthisGreen Beret would rather be facing insurgents in Fallujah than a pissed off granny.
“Would it be possible to go to Tango’s so I can tell Bruno I’ll be away longer than we’d planned?” Joshua asked as we walked. “I should be safe with all of you, right?”
We all turned to look at Candy as we came to a stop on the sidewalk. “I don’t see why not,” he said, glancing at a black and white patrol car parked across the street then at two others down the block. “I have a feeling we’ve scared them off for a while.”
Joshua looked at me and smiled. I swallowed hard, knowing the attraction I felt for him was pure trouble.
An hour later, we were sitting out the back of the Collective in the small courtyard attached to Bruno’s restaurant. Theothers had joined us, rounding out the group as they filled chairs. Bruno had been happy to see me and taken Joshua’s explanation of a possible long absence from work in his stride. He’d brought out platters of food and I’d watched with sheer happiness as my teammates devoured it. We all drank soda and water, not wanting to take Bruno up on his offer for something stronger. We were all on protection detail while we waited for SAC Bradley to get back to us with the location of a new safehouse.
“So, Nash told me a little bit about all of you but not much more than that,” Joshua said, looking over at Marshall and Alain who sat beside each other. “You two are British, right?”
Both men nodded. “British SAS—the best of the best—at your service,suh!” Alain pointed to his chest as Marshall saluted, wearing a big grin.
“Don’t listen to them,” I teased, pointing between the two men. “Those two would sell naked pictures of their mothers for a pint ofhotbeer.”
Joshua laughed as Joy screwed up his features and frowned at the man seated next to me. “Prat.”
“That’s what I heard,” Nash said, shrugging.
“Trust me, no one wants to see pics of Almond’s old mum starkers,” Clifford drawled.
Alain elbowed Marshall as several people snickered. “Bite me, Mars, as you Americans say.”
Joshua was wearing a brilliant smile as he looked over at Smith. “And you’re a Navy SEAL?”
Napoleon nodded, sitting forward in his chair as he leaned on the table. “That’s right.” He grinned, blowing on his nails andbuffing them on his chest. “SEALS are actually the best branch of the U.S. military.”
“The slipperiest anyway,” Mickey said, eyes dancing as he took a long draw on his straw.
Joshua chuckled before turning to Mickey. “And you’re a Marine, right?”
My best friend nodded. “That’s right, Force RECON like your current roommate there.” He pointed at me. “And we have another RECON Marine on the team but he’s on his honeymoon. You’ll get to meet him when he and Mathis get back from their honeymoon.”
“That’s right,” Joshua said. “Nash said something about that.” He looked at the captain. “I think it’s cool that you have so many gay guys on your team.”
I coughed, trying desperately not to spit my Sprite all over the table.
“That’s because we’re all gay,” Rex drawled.
I glanced over at the Texan, noting the smirk on his face as Joshua choked beside me. When I looked over at him, I could see the blush staining his cheeks. “Sorry, I had no idea,” he muttered.
“I put together a team of the best men from branches of service all over the world,” Candy replied. “I couldn’t care less who they choose to sleep with as long as they do their jobs.”
“It’s kind of awesome,” Joshua replied. He looked at Patsy. “And you’re—”
“A leprechaun,” Snickers interjected before he could finish.
Patsy launched himself at Napoleon, toppling his chair as my tall friend ducked out of the way.
“How’s the food?” Bruno asked, walking up holding a platter. We all looked up in anticipation.
“Sooo feckin’ good,” Patsy drawled, righting his chair and sitting back down. “A nice change from the soul food that one makes us eat.” He threw Napoleon a kiss as the man in question flipped him off.
“You don’t understand my cooking, shawty, because youhaveno soul…and you wouldn’t know a collard green if one danced right up and slapped you in the face.”
