Page 62 of All Bets are Off

“West! Logan! That you?” Jase’s voice comes from the living room, and Logan and I veer that way, wearing the navy terrycloth robes we put on in the locker room after our shower.

I stop dead in my tracks when I see the familiar person standing up from the sofa.

“Ivan?” Logan says from behind me.

“West, Logan! Rah! It’s so great to see you two!” In two strides of his long legs, Ivan eats up the distance between us, enfolding first Logan, then myself into a smothering bear hug.

“I thought I was seeing things! Man, what in the hell are you doing here?” I slap him on his broad back. Ivan Chitwood served beside me, Jase, and Logan for three years in Afghanistan. We haven’t seen him in half a decade.

“I’m in need of your services. Had no idea you guys were running Falcon Security until I came face-to-face with Jase, here.” Ivan smiles, dark eyes alight with genuine pleasure. “How did you guys wind up doing this gig?”

“My uncle wanted to start this firm and asked me to run it for him,” Jase answers. “West and Logan seemed like obvious choices to do it with me.”

“Awesome!”

“You still serving?” Logan asks Ivan.

“Hell, yeah. They’ll have to throw me out,” he answers.

“You’re younger than we are. When you reach our age, you may be ready to let it all go,” I tell him.

“No way. Semper Fi forever, man.” Ivan punches me in the arm.

“Ivan was just about to tell me why he needs our services,” Jase says.

“Why don’t Logan and I throw on some clothes and meet you down here in a few?” I suggest, feeling off balance in the flimsy robe.

“Sure. I’ll pour us some drinks.” Jase starts for the bar.

Upstairs, Logan and I dress. “It’s so weird seeing him here,” Logan whispers when we meet outside his door.

I nod agreement. “Wonder what he needs?”

Logan shrugs as we descend the staircase.

“Guess we’re about to find out,” I say.

When we enter the living room again, Jase has a fire dancing in the grate. Outside the double doors, the storm rages over the ocean, dark sheets of rain blending into the turbulent sea, completely erasing the horizon.

Jase pours us whiskeys, and Logan sits in one of the arm chairs and takes a drink from his tumbler. Dropping into the chair beside him, I pick up mine. Tilting it toward Ivan in a toast, I swallow a good third of it, the taste rich and complex, warming my insides.

Ivan leans back and explains what he needs from Falcon Security.

“I’m visiting my brother, Chris, in Apex while I’m on leave. He’s been married to this chick, Serena, for ten years. I never liked her. She’s not good enough for him, if you ask me. I think she’s cheating on him.”

“We’re a security firm, not a detective agency,” Jase says. “Spying on someone’s spouse isn’t exactly what we do. Not unless there’s some kind of protection involved.”

“Yeah, well, you can do it, though, can’t you?” Ivan looks from one to another of us. “Think of it as protecting my brother from a bitch who’s gonna take him for every cent he has—I know it. I’ll pay whatever your fee is. I just trust you guys to do it right, you know? We’re all devil dogs here.”

“You didn’t even know it was us you were coming to see,” Logan points out.

“Yeah, but now that I do, it feels right. Like fate. I figured the ‘security’ part assures that it’s all on the down low. I don’t want Chris to know I’m doing this.”

Ivan was never the sharpest tack in the package.

With a sigh, Jase says, “So, you want your sister-in-law followed?”

Ivan nods, grinning again, flashing two deep dimples in his cheeks. The man’s built like a bull. His shirt looks like it’s going to burst at the seams. “That’s right. She’s a nurse. Maybe she’s got something going on with someone in the hospital. Chris is such a trusting guy. He would never suspect her of doing anything behind his back.”