Chapter 2

Eagles Nest Securities

Seattle Washington

“This better be important.”

Jason “Lucky” Lucas turned toward the source of the grumbled comment and smirked. “Good morning to you, too, Van,” he greeted Donovan Braddock as the former SEAL entered the space known to their team as the Conference Room.

In reality, this was their war room. The one place where the men of Eagle’s Nest Securities could discuss their most sensitive cases without fear of being overheard…or hacked.

“You ever know Hayes to call us in when it wasn’t important?” Lucky posed the question sincerely.

Van’s dark stare turned his direction, and the man grunted as he made his way into the room and over to the long, oval table where Lucky sat. “Funny, coming from the guy who’s usually the first one to start whining about missing out on his weekend time.”

“I beg to differ,” he rebutted. “My whining is selective and only appears when there’s the potential for coitus interruptus.”

“Meaning, Lucky only gets pissed when work interferes with his chances of getting laid.”

The quipped comment had them both turning their attention to the three men filtering into the room. First to enter was Logan Hayes, the team’s leader. On his heels was Chase Boyer, and shutting the door behind him was Archer Nash.

“Hey, now.” Lucky feigned offense. “I’ll have you know I’m a deeply emotional individual who just so happens to have a talent for connecting with beautiful women.”

It was true. He was talented when it came to communicating with members of the opposite sex. But lately, though he wasn’t clear as to why, it was his follow-through that left much to be desired.

You know why.

“Sure.” Chase snorted. “If by ‘connecting’ you mean bedding.”

Lifting his middle finger in the young sniper’s direction, Lucky didn’t deny the off-handed claim. He had a reputation to uphold, after all.

A reputation that’s based on pure bullshit.

Ignoring his nagging conscious, he shook his head and let his lips curl into a sideways grin. “Hate on me all you want, gentlemen.” He linked his fingers behind his head and settled back into his chair. “I don’t blame you for being jealous.”

“Jealous?” Archer chuckled as he pulled out the wheeled chair to Lucky’s right. “Of what? Still being stuck in the dating pool?” The man lowered himself into his seat. “Trust me when I say there isn’t a single cell in my body that envies you on that front.”

“I second that.” Logan took his rightful place at the head of the table.

“You only second that because Natalie finally took pity on you and married your pathetic ass,” Lucky reminded.

The other man’s smile grew even wider. “Damn straight. You think playing the field is great, but I’m here to tell ya…” Affection softened Logan’s hazel eyes. “There’s nothing better than going home at the end of a day, or better yet, coming back from an extended op, and finding the woman you love waiting there for you.”

“Here, here!” The longer locks on top of Archer’s head hair fell to his temple in dark waves as he pretended to lift a glass to Logan’s comment. Like their leader, Archer’s entire face lit up with an unapologetic smile. “Way I see it, Hayes and I are the only smart ones in this room.”

“Because you’re tied down to one woman for the rest of your days?” Lucky arched a goading brow.

Both Archer and Logan shared a look before sliding a pair of damn near identical grins his way.

“Yep.” Logan nodded proudly.

Archer’s eyes gleamed as he gave an agreeable, “Absofuckinglutely.”

“To be fair, Nash hasn’t technically settled down yet,” Chase pointed out.

“The man’s engaged to be married.” Lucky’s incredulous stare swung Chase’s way. “The wedding’s in like a month. I’m pretty sure Arch has made up his mind about Cassie being The One.”

“He’s right.” Archer shifted in his seat. “At this point, the ceremony’s just a formality. As far as I’m concerned, Cass and I are already married.”

Not wanting this conversation to continue, Lucky attempted to switch to a topic he felt more comfortable discussing. To Logan, he asked, “Where are we with the bachelor party?”

“Same place we were the last time you asked.”

“Seriously?” He shot Archer’s Best Man an exaggerated pout. “So there really aren’t going to be any strippers?”

Lucky didn’t give two shits if there were strippers. Truth be told, watching young women being exploited by a bunch of creepy dudes sitting around a dark room wasn’t his cup of tea. But since these guys all saw him as some sort of playboy Casanova, he figured he’d better play the part.

If he didn’t, if the other men in this room ever discovered the truth about his so-called philandering ways, they’d finally see him for what he really was…

A big, fat, full of shit fraud.

“We here to plan a vanilla bachelor party, or is there actual ENS business to handle?”

The room grew quiet as all eyes went to the man sitting at the other end of the table. Six-six and built like a brick shit house, Van’s dark gaze and perpetually stoic demeanor practically screamed stay the fuck away.

Which, when it came to Braddock, most people did.

“Neither.” Logan glanced at the laptop he’d just placed on the table in front of him. Flipping it open, he clicked a few buttons before picking up a nearby remote and powering up the giant flatscreen on the wall behind him.

“So…if we’re not here to talk business or the party…” Chance let his voice trail off.

“Never said we weren’t discussing business.” Logan turned back to his computer and hit another key. “I said we weren’t discussing Eagle’s Nest Securities business.”

A blanket of understanding seemed to fall over Lucky and the others. The reason their former SEAL brother had called them into the office was solidified the minute another man’s face filled the giant screen.

Lucky’s chest grew tight as a slew of memories shot to the forefront of his mind. Some were good, others not so much. But it was those last ones—his most recent moments involving this man and his fallen quest to keep their team united and active—that sent an uncomfortable wave of emotions rolling through his veins.

Not because he blamed Secretary Webb for their team’s disbandment and subsequent departure from the Navy. Hell, the man had done everything in his power to try to prevent it. But, in the end, all he’d managed to accomplish was to ensure they each received an honorable discharge rather than the dishonorable they’d been threatened with.

It was just hard facing the man who’d been a part of his Navy SEAL days. Seeing Webb’s face on a screen in the Eagle’s Nest war room rather than on a military base or some computer screen half a world away was just another reminder that those days were all in the past.

A stark reminder that Hunter Garrison—one of the best men Lucky had ever had the pleasure of serving with—was gone. And he was never coming back.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Van’s muttered grumble was less than subtle.

The man’s disdain toward Webb was no secret. Because he did blame SECNAV for what happened. To Hunt and to their military careers.

With an unsurprised nod, Webb greeted Lucky’s less-than-impressed teammate. “Nice to see you, too, Braddock,” the powerful man rumbled.

Van’s only response was a twitch of his strong, rugged jaw.

“Secretary Webb called me early this morning.” Logan met the gaze of every man in the room. “He hasn’t given me any specifics other than a valuable CIA asset is claiming to have intel regarding our last mission.”

Lucky straightened his spine, as did every man sitting at that table. The air grew thick with tension, the room”s energy changing instantly. All signs of their lighthearted ribbing gone as the former team of decorated SEALs waited to hear more.

“Which asset?” Lucky demanded of the man on the screen.

But Chase followed that with an uncharacteristically gruff, “Screw the asset. What’s the intel?”

He understood Chase’s desperation in the matter. The entire team shared that same gnawing, gut-twisting need to uncover the truth about what had happened to them that day.

The what. The how. So many questions left unanswered. So many nights he’d laid awake picturing Hunter’s face.

Lucky’s throat grew tight. Some days it was still hard to believe Hunt was gone. Three years had passed since the team was ambushed by an extremist militia group during what was supposed to be a simple intel-gathering op.

Three damn years, and they were still no closer to uncovering the truth. But that hadn’t stopped them from looking for answers. Lucky and his team wanted—no, they needed—to find those responsible for the loss of their fallen brother.

It was the team’s one true mission. To identify the bastards who’d not only cost a good man his life but who’d also tried like hell to send the entire group of SEALs to their deaths. Once they found their target—and they would find them—Lucky and his team would then take the sons of bitches down.

For fucking good.

“His name is Farzad Akimi.” A young Afghan man’s face appeared, the screen splitting into two equal frames.

Chase scooted himself closer to the table. “So…not one of ours.”

Lucky studied Akimi’s image. Early to mid-twenties, a thin layer of scruff covered his narrow jaw. The guy’s dark, wavy hair was unkempt beneath the tan and black paku perched on his head. Nose long and straight, his olive complexion was a bit paler than some, but for the most part, he looked like any other young Afghani man.

“Definitely not ours,” Lucky confirmed.

Like now, he was the team’s technical analyst. That meant any and all direct communication between the team and their assets had gone through him. Three years may have passed since he and the others worked for Uncle Sam, but Lucky still remembered the faces of every asset they’d had.

“Akimi came on board shortly after your team’s departure from the Navy. He’s young, but he’s good. One of the CIA’s most valuable assets, or so I’ve heard.”

“How the hell does he know anything about our last op if he came after us?” Van demanded.

As usual, the guy’s question was valid. Also, as usual, SECNAV was ready with an answer.

“During a recent briefing about a current CIA op, Akimi shared something rather interesting with his handler.”

Logan frowned. Interesting how?”

“He mentioned your team by name.” Webb swallowed. “More specifically, he made reference to, and I quote, ‘the shitstorm that brought the most decorated Navy SEAL team to its knees’.”

Every man in the room stiffened as their attention became laser-focused.

With his fists balling up against the table’s smooth surface, Lucky stared back at the screen and asked, “What does he know?”

“He won’t say.”

“What does he want?” Van asked. “Guy doesn’t spout shit off like that and then clam up unless he wants something.”

Webb’s intelligent brown eyes shifted to where Van sat. “As usual, your instincts are spot on.”

“Let me guess.” Archer leaned his elbows onto the table. “He wants to trade this supposed intel for his walking papers.”

“Got it in one, Nash.” Webb nodded grimly. “From what Akimi’s handler shared, the guy’s spooked. He’s been reported as getting more and more agitated to the point of being paranoia. Not that I can blame him.” The other man huffed a breath. “The group the Agency’s after…they’re bad news.”

“Anything we should be concerned about?”

Logan’s question pulled Webb’s attention. A slow grin lifted one corner of his lips. “Come on, Hayes. You know better than to ask me that.”

“Don’t believe the man asked for specifics,” Van pointed out.

“Fair enough.” Webb looked back to Logan. “In short, no. And as long as the CIA can keep the group under their watchful eyes, that won’t change.”

“So hypothetically,” Chase joined in. “If something does come up…something like, say, the threat of an imminent attack on U.S. soil, for example, you’d—”

“I’d make sure everyone I cared about was safe.” Webb’s expression was serious. “In a hypothetical situation like the one you just described, that is.”

“Welp, boys.” Van scoffed. “Looks like we’re screwed.”

“Van.” Logan’s admonishment was sharp.

But Webb simply lifted a palm and grinned. “It’s okay, Hayes.” To Van, he said, “You’ve made your feelings toward me very clear, Donovan. I know you blame me for what happened to Hunt and your team. So let me make something clear to you.” He leaned in closer to his computer’s camera. “I did everything in my power to save your careers. But the president was putting pressure on SECDEF to make sure someone paid for Hunt’s death, so—”

“His death is on the bastards who ambushed us,” Chase growled.

“You’re wrong.”

Every gaze in the room turned to Van whose expression was cold as ice. “Hunt’s death is on the bastards who gave those sons of bitches a heads-up.” His Adam’s apple worked with a hard swallow, his brown-black eyes burning into the massive screen on the soundproofed wall he faced. “The only way Jamal Hassan Muhammad’s men could have known we’d be on that Godforsaken mountain was if someone told them we were coming.”

Muhammad was the Taliban’s top division commander. The asshole was responsible for thousands of lives lost, so when higher-ups in the U.S. government received intel that he’d been seen in Kandahar, Secretary Webb had sent in his best team.

Later, before they’d really even had time to grieve the loss of their brother, that same team—Lucky’s team—was given a choice. Either take early retirement with full benefits and an honorable discharge or be given a guaranteed dishonorable and likely face a trumped-up, bullshit court martial. Because, as Webb has said, the president wanted someone’s head on a platter.

Guess five heads are better than one.

“You’re absolutely right.” Secretary Webb acknowledged Van’s comment. “Which is why I’ve continued doing everything in my power to get to the truth about who was behind the attack on your team.” He ran a frustrated hand through his thick, silver hair and sighed. “The truth is, until now, we haven’t had any sort of viable lead.”

“I want to talk to this Akimi guy,” Logan announced. Glancing around the table, he went on to say, “You set it up. Just name the date and time, and we’ll be here.”

“I anticipated…and respect…your desire to speak to him, yourselves. That’s why I’ve already instructed his handler to make sure it happens.”

“Sooner the better,” Van rumbled low.

“Don’t worry, gentlemen. I’ll reach back out the second I hear back from the Agency. Until then…I’ve heard a lot of good things about Eagle’s Nest Securities. Sounds like you’re really making a name for yourselves out there.”

“Business is keeping steady.” Logan nodded humbly.

Steady, my ass.

They’d been so busy lately that Lucky was beginning to think they should’ve installed one of those revolving doors at the entrance to their office.

“Well, keep up the good work. I’m…” Webb paused briefly before adding, “I’m damn proud of you boys. And yes, Braddock. I’m including you in that, too.”

Whether Van liked it or not, apparently.

Lucky slid a hidden glance in the big guy’s direction. From the look on Van’s face, he did not like it. Nor did he care for the man on the screen.

A heaviness fell over him, his throat tightening as he looked away from his haunted friend. Maybe, once they found the actual person or persons behind the attack on their team, the stoic bastard would realize Webb wasn’t the enemy.

“I’ll set up the meeting with Akimi.” Webb’s commanding voice tore through Lucky’s thoughts. “You should hear back from me within the next few days.”

“Thank you, Sir.” Logan offered a respectful nod.

A second later, the screen went black, and the video conference was over.

“Well, that was unexpected.” Chase leaned back in his chair and ran a hand over the layer of brown scruff covering his jaw.

“Definitely not how I expected to start my day,” Archer agreed. “I just hope like hell this Akimi guy has more to offer up than a tiny blip of a conversation.”

A few grunts and muttered agreements filled the air, but one on the team seemed overly excited about the possible new lead in their off-the-books investigation. Probably because they’d faced too many dead ends to open the door to real hope.

But SEALS or private sector, it didn’t matter. One way or another, no matter how long it took, the men of Eagle’s Nest would eventually uncover the truth.

Until then…

“Anyone down for some wings?” Lucky asked no one in particular as he stood and headed for the door. “First round’s on me.”

Not bothering to glance up from his phone, Chase nodded as he followed. “I could go for some chicken.”

The team filtered out of the room, the door beeping as the secured locks reengaged the moment it snicked shut. Walking a few steps ahead of him down the hall, Logan spoke to Lucky from over his shoulder.

“Thanks for the offer.” Their team leader sounded genuine. “But Nat and I are going car shopping.”

“Car shopping?” Lucky blinked. “You trading in the truck?”

“Hell, no.” The other man’s brow fell into a deep furrow. “Natalie wants something a little bigger than what she has now, so I promised her we’d go look on my next day off.”

“Arch?” He moved on to the next guy. “What about you?”

“Sorry, man.” Arch checked his watch. “I’m supposed to pick Cassie up in twenty.”

“More wedding stuff?” Lucky assumed.

The group walked steadily through the empty reception area and out into the floor’s main hallway. Reaching the elevator first, Archer slapped the button and shook his head.

“Nope,” the demolitions answered. “The girls were meeting to finalize all that this morning.” Affection seeped into the other man’s dark gaze as he added, “I’m picking Cass up at the café, and then she and I are going on a date.”

“A date?” Chase frowned as the elevator dinged and its doors slid open. “Isn’t that kinda weird, seeing as how you two are…you know…already engaged?”

The team took turns stepping inside. Squeezing and shifting, their broad, muscular bodies damn near filled the enclosed space.

“That’s exactly why they should continue to date,” Logan pointed out as the cart jostled and began its descent. “Marriages fail for lots of reasons, Boyer. One is that the couple grows apart.”

“Hayes is exactly right.” Archer nodded. “Can’t grow apart if you keep things going strong, like in the beginning. Hence my plan to take Cass to a matinee, followed by happy hour and an early dinner.”

“Followed by a late night filled with hot, steamy, wild monkey se—”

“Dude.” Archer’s scowl swung toward Lucky. “Why do you gotta ruin the moment? I was trying to teach our young friend the ropes when it comes to relationships.”

He looked at Chase. “Don’t listen to them, Boyer. You have any questions about how to treat the opposite sex, I’ve got your back.”

Logan scoffed. “Says the man who’s never been in a serious relationship in his life.”

“I have to been in a serious relationship,” Lucky bypassed Chase’s comment to argue Logan’s false accusation. “For your information, Sally Pachinko and I were together for over a year.”

“Fifth grade doesn’t count, jackass.” Van’s rough grumble came from behind.

Lifting his right hand, Lucky flashed his surly teammate the finger at the same time the elevator stopped and the doors slid open.

“Shit.” Arch’s face fell into a frown as he glanced down at his phone. “I need to get a move-on. Cass just texted and said Ellie had to cut out of the girls’ brunch early, and she and Nat are ready to go.”

Lucky tilted his head as the group of five marched across smooth tile toward the building’s main entrance. “Ellie?”

“She was Cassie’s lawyer when she was framed for murder,” Archer reminded him with a prodding stare. “You know…Ellie.”

Lucky didn’t need the reminder. He knew exactly who his friend was referring to.

Eloise Fisher. Early thirties. Brunette. Eyes he’d tried like hell to forget.

Oh, he knew who Ellie was, all right. He knew her better than she’d ever realize. Just not in the way he really wanted.

And boy, did he want.

His first introduction to the spunky lawyer had been a few months back, at Archer and Cassie’s engagement party. Cassie had been making the rounds, introducing Ellie to the team.

One look in those deep blue eyes was all it took for Lucky to want her. When she’d turned him down with a sharp tongue and a smile, he’d craved. And that craving, well…

It hadn’t stopped.

“Oh, yeah.” He feigned sudden recognition. “Ellie. Now I remember.”

They breached the building’s double doors and made their way out onto the sidewalk. The mid-morning sun beamed down on them from up above, making Lucky squint the second his booted foot hit the pavement.

As if they’d rehearsed it, every man on the team reached for either the tops of their heads, the collar of their shirts, or one of their pants pockets to retrieve their dark-lensed sunglasses. Archer and Logan continued conversing about their women and Arch’s afternoon plans while they walked together toward the two-level parking garage attached to the building’s south side.

Beside Lucky, Chase’s thumbs flew over the screen on his phone as he texted back and forth with someone outside the team. Van walked in silence, staring straight ahead without uttering a word.

With everyone else occupied—or, in Van’s case, keeping to himself—Lucky was left with nothing else to do but think. He thought about his plans for the rest of the day…wings with Chase, and then…he’d probably just go back to his empty house.

A sexy brunette’s face flashed before his mind’s eye, and he suddenly wished his plans included seeing a certain mouthwatering lawyer. And just like that, he knew his afternoon would be spent remembering…

And wishing.