focus changed immediately to food.
Curious, Lizzie kept her eye on Morgan and Rodie, but she managed to stay within touching distance of Finn. The guy was driving her nuts, but he was damned hot.
And he didn’t treat her like a little kid.
Mac followed the six of them into the restaurant and waited in line while everyone ordered. His head was still full of the night he’d spent with Dink, and even if he’d wanted to forget, he had a constant reminder. His ass hurt. He probably should have thought about that when they’d spent the night fucking like a couple of kids.
Damn. He hadn’t had that much sex in twenty years, but he definitely owed his buddy. He’d slept like the dead when they’d finally gotten the need to screw out of their systems, though Mac knew he’d never be totally free of the feelings he had for Dink.
No one else in his world cared as much for him as his old friend. Fame hadn’t changed Dink a bit. More polish maybe, a maturity that hadn’t existed twenty years ago, but the man was still the same loving friend he’d always been.
He’d known Mac needed him, and he’d made the long trip from New York to California to be there for him, even though it meant crawling out of bed at four in the morning and catching an early plane back to New York. Knowing Dink cared that much had left Mac feeling more than a little maudlin today. All the money in the world couldn’t buy friendship like that. He’d known it on an intellectual level, but Dink had given the concept form and feeling.
Thanks to Dink’s visit, Mac was seeing his project and his chances of success much more clearly. After talking about the project, laying his plans bare in front of his friend, things looked even better to him than they had at any time before.
The most interesting thing has been the way Dink took the news about Zianne, about her identity and the fate of her people. He was curious—hell, Dink was curious about everything—but there’d not been a moment’s doubt. No hesitation over any of the things Mac told him.
Too bad the jerks at the Pentagon hadn’t been as open.
Dink had given a solemn promise not to say a word to anyone, though he did insist that, once Mac had rescued Zianne and the other Nyrians, if they ever went public, it was his story.
Just the fact that he said when, not if, made it easy to promise.
Mac glanced up as the line moved forward. Lizzie had been first with Finn right behind her. Now she reached for her purse to pay for her sandwich. Mac had been curious about that, whether they’d just assume he was paying—which he was—or if they’d expect to pay for their own.
Little stuff like that told him a lot about people. None of these guys expected a free ride. They were all going for wallets and purses, which told him they were in it for the adventure, not for a free ride. “Put your money away, Lizzie. I’m getting it.”
She flashed him a quick smile. “Oh. Thanks, Mac. I didn’t expect that.”
“Expect it. Don’t forget, I own you guys for the next six months. I figure that makes me responsible for feeding you.”
Finn leaned over Lizzie and whispered sotto voce, “That’s why he picked such an expensive, upscale joint for lunch.”
“Watch it, O’Toole, or I’ll make you choose a little one.” Mac stared meaningfully at the foot-long sandwich the employee was carefully assembling in front of Finn.
Finn sighed dramatically. “C’mon, Mac. We all know bigger is better.”
Mac shook his head and chuckled. How could he possibly answer that one without getting himself into trouble? If they only knew how he’d spent the night. He bit back more laughter.
Dink certainly proved bigger was better.
They shoved a couple of tables together so they could sit as a group, and the laughter and teasing never let up. Mac sensed the cohesiveness, the sense of camaraderie building much faster than he’d hoped—along with some obvious sexual tension. The original plan had been
Curious, Lizzie kept her eye on Morgan and Rodie, but she managed to stay within touching distance of Finn. The guy was driving her nuts, but he was damned hot.
And he didn’t treat her like a little kid.
Mac followed the six of them into the restaurant and waited in line while everyone ordered. His head was still full of the night he’d spent with Dink, and even if he’d wanted to forget, he had a constant reminder. His ass hurt. He probably should have thought about that when they’d spent the night fucking like a couple of kids.
Damn. He hadn’t had that much sex in twenty years, but he definitely owed his buddy. He’d slept like the dead when they’d finally gotten the need to screw out of their systems, though Mac knew he’d never be totally free of the feelings he had for Dink.
No one else in his world cared as much for him as his old friend. Fame hadn’t changed Dink a bit. More polish maybe, a maturity that hadn’t existed twenty years ago, but the man was still the same loving friend he’d always been.
He’d known Mac needed him, and he’d made the long trip from New York to California to be there for him, even though it meant crawling out of bed at four in the morning and catching an early plane back to New York. Knowing Dink cared that much had left Mac feeling more than a little maudlin today. All the money in the world couldn’t buy friendship like that. He’d known it on an intellectual level, but Dink had given the concept form and feeling.
Thanks to Dink’s visit, Mac was seeing his project and his chances of success much more clearly. After talking about the project, laying his plans bare in front of his friend, things looked even better to him than they had at any time before.
The most interesting thing has been the way Dink took the news about Zianne, about her identity and the fate of her people. He was curious—hell, Dink was curious about everything—but there’d not been a moment’s doubt. No hesitation over any of the things Mac told him.
Too bad the jerks at the Pentagon hadn’t been as open.
Dink had given a solemn promise not to say a word to anyone, though he did insist that, once Mac had rescued Zianne and the other Nyrians, if they ever went public, it was his story.
Just the fact that he said when, not if, made it easy to promise.
Mac glanced up as the line moved forward. Lizzie had been first with Finn right behind her. Now she reached for her purse to pay for her sandwich. Mac had been curious about that, whether they’d just assume he was paying—which he was—or if they’d expect to pay for their own.
Little stuff like that told him a lot about people. None of these guys expected a free ride. They were all going for wallets and purses, which told him they were in it for the adventure, not for a free ride. “Put your money away, Lizzie. I’m getting it.”
She flashed him a quick smile. “Oh. Thanks, Mac. I didn’t expect that.”
“Expect it. Don’t forget, I own you guys for the next six months. I figure that makes me responsible for feeding you.”
Finn leaned over Lizzie and whispered sotto voce, “That’s why he picked such an expensive, upscale joint for lunch.”
“Watch it, O’Toole, or I’ll make you choose a little one.” Mac stared meaningfully at the foot-long sandwich the employee was carefully assembling in front of Finn.
Finn sighed dramatically. “C’mon, Mac. We all know bigger is better.”
Mac shook his head and chuckled. How could he possibly answer that one without getting himself into trouble? If they only knew how he’d spent the night. He bit back more laughter.
Dink certainly proved bigger was better.
They shoved a couple of tables together so they could sit as a group, and the laughter and teasing never let up. Mac sensed the cohesiveness, the sense of camaraderie building much faster than he’d hoped—along with some obvious sexual tension. The original plan had been
Similar Books
