Page 66 of Nuclear Option (Owens Protective Services)

“Well, you should never get involved in other people’s problems, first of all.”

I snorted at that. “A little ironic coming from you, don’t you think?”

“In what way?”

“All you do is get in other people’s problems.”

“True, but what you just inserted yourself into was just stupid. You can never really understand what happens in a military zone.”

“I think I knew that.”

“Then why did you push?”

I bit my lip, trying to understand that right now. “Because…because he’s perfect.”

His eyebrows shot up in surprise at that. “He’s perfect, so you thought you’d knock him down a peg? It makes sense, in the most twisted version of the world.”

“I know,” I groaned, covering my face with my hand. “God, I’m such an idiot.”

He snorted. “Yep, that about sums it up. But you know what always makes things better?”

“A musical?”

He paused for a moment, thinking it over. “Well, now that you mention it, that is a great solution to any problem. However, I was going to say liquor.”

My gaze jerked up to meet his. “You…you want me to get drunk?”

“Hell no. I want to get drunk and you can watch.”

He stood and walked toward the house. I immediately got up and followed, not wanting to miss out on this. “If you get liquor, so do I.”

“I don’t think that’s a smart idea, especially with your meds.”

“I’m not taking any painkillers.”

“Yeah, but then there’s the fact that Cash would kick my ass if I got you drunk. Now, I’ll be honest, I could use a good ass-kicking, but I’m not really in the mood for it when Cash is half out of his mind.”

“So, you’re going to tell me what to do, just like him,” I retorted.

He stopped in his tracks and spun on me, eyeing me like a rabid dog. “Point well made, but if I drink with you, we’re going to have a talk.”

“About what?”

“About why the fuck you’re having such a hard time letting Cash in.”

I snorted, knowing no amount of alcohol would get me to open up and spill my guts to Fox. “You’re on.”

One hour later…

“It’s just…he’sperfect and I’m…so far beyond perfect,” I slurred. I was pretty sure I wasn’t supposed to be breaking my own rules and talking about my relationship with Cash, but the alcohol made it so easy.

“Cash is not perfect,” Jones grunted, drinking his shot. “Let me tell you something, Cash was damn good at one thing. You want to know what that was?”

I nodded eagerly, though I was pretty sure there was more than one thing.

“Cash is really good at being a sniper.” Jones shook his head slightly. “I never saw anyone as good as him. The man knew he had a job to do and took it on with no questions asked.”

I leaned against the counter, nearly sliding to my ass as the counter turned slippery under my arms. “Where did he get that bullet?”

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