Prologue #2
“Connor.” Beckett finally relented, causing Loic to smile victoriously at having successfully goaded Beckett into revealing the name.
“Connor O’Donnell,” he stated with a grin, surprising himself at the wave of fondness that swept over him when he said the name aloud.
It had been years since he’d thought of him.
The fiery-natured sniper had been his shadow on one of their deployments and was never officially listed as part of Beckett’s team, but he’d been assigned to the operation because he was the best sniper the Corps had to offer at the time.
“That’s right. Hell of a name!” Loic agreed with a laugh. “Hey, come to think of it, did you have a thing for him?”
“A thing?” Beckett echoed without thinking, immediately regretting his na?ve response as it dawned on him what Loic was really asking.
“A thing, Frenchie. Like—did your woody want to pecker O’Donnell?”
“Yes, Frenchie. Did your woody want to pecker Mr. O’Donnell?” Hayes asked, heavy on the innuendo.
Beckett began to sweat.
“Come on,” Beckett scoffed, but then began to wonder if there hadn’t been some interest. Nothing like what he felt for Hayes but—
“That’s not a no,” Hayes growled possessively in Beckett’s ear. He squirmed a little in his seat, helpless to stop his very physical response to Hayes’ obvious jealousy.
“Focus, Nancy—” he warned. “No one wants to get shot in the ass ‘cause you’re distracted thinking about mine!” Beckett commanded brusquely, shutting down any further discussion about peckers.
Loic looked puzzled for a moment before he suddenly noticed the tiny earpiece Beckett was wearing.
“Is Navy in your ear, right now?” Loic asked, excitedly.
“Bitch won’t let me out of the house unsupervised,” Beckett sighed dramatically as he nodded.
“Partly true—mostly because you’re a constant danger to yourself,” Hayes responded with an obvious smile in his voice.
“Let me talk to him!” Loic demanded, launching himself at Beckett and reaching for the earpiece.
“Fuck off, you lunatic!” Beckett replied, fending off Loic, and placing a protective hand over his ear. Thank God they were sitting at the end of the row, because otherwise someone would have gotten punched in the ensuing scuffle.
“Let me talk to Hayes! I have a shit ton of questions—” Loic declared, grabbing futilely for the earpiece. It was so goddamned ridiculous that Beckett finally gave up, reluctantly handing it over.
“Yo, Navy, you read me?” Loic asked, tongue-in-cheek, like a little boy discovering the wonders of his first walkie talkie.
Beckett couldn’t hear Hayes’ reply. With a sigh of defeat, he resumed nursing his beer, distractedly watching the home team battle their way towards the end zone.
“Happy to hear you’re healthy again!” Loic said, after a moment—not that Beckett was listening.
“I know Becky’s a big fan of bullet holes, but you don’t have to follow the trend, you know—dumbass practically considers them a fashion statement at this point—” He laughed and turned towards Beckett while wearing a positively diabolical grin.
“Hey, Navy, do guys rub off on each other? Beck won’t tell me—crazy, how the guy went from manwhore to gay prude in less than a year,” Loic observed casually, as if discussing the local weather report instead of rendering his opinion on Beckett’s sex life.
“Ah, come on, Navy, not you too! I always thought the SEALs were a bunch of jackasses, but I didn’t think they were prudes!
” On that point, at least, Beckett agreed with Loic.
The SEALs they’d encountered while deployed had all been full of themselves—for good reason, but still—and ludicrously arrogant about pretty much everything, including their sexual exploits.
Beckett had heard more than a few stories that even made him blush.
“That sounds fair, yeah—” Loic remarked, eyes twinkling devilishly. “He wasn’t good looking or anything—not anywhere near as handsome as you—”
What in the hell was Loic going on about? Beckett narrowed his eyes at his friend, but Loic just grinned, clearly unconcerned that Beckett was less than pleased with him.
“Don’t be modest, Navy. That jawline would be totally killer in Hollywood—” Loic waited for Hayes’ reply and laughed again.
“Yeah, no, so—O’Donnell was a 6 on a good day, but he was a charming bastard, I guess.
He and Beckett got along like two peas in a pod.
Pops would probably have been jealous, but we only met the Irish sniper after Chase had quit the Corps, so—” Loic drifted off, listening to Hayes’ reply.
“No, no—” Loic said, shaking his head. “They didn’t really make kissy faces or anything—they were just bros sharing a cot, which—now that I say that part out loud, sounds a little gay, but back then—well—” he paused as Hayes responded.
“Yeah—well, we didn’t know Beckett liked to wet whistles and taste the rainbow back then! ” Loic chuckled and winked at Beckett.
Beckett groaned and slid down farther in his seat, feeling a hellacious tension headache coming on. Suddenly, his perfectly relaxing day at a football game with a cold beer had transformed into a living nightmare.
“You know, that’s a good question. I’ll text Devin and ask, but he never mentioned anything, even when the bet was ongoing.”
Suddenly, Beckett recalled that Devin—the third remaining member of their C.U.N.T.
team—had wagered a bet that Beckett was gay a long time ago.
It had cost his friends a pretty penny when Beckett come out to the team the previous fall.
A few grand each, in fact. Devin had been overjoyed with his winnings.
How the man had known about his true sexual nature when Beckett hadn’t even suspected it himself was a goddamned mystery.
“Right, right. But—yeah, no. I don’t think Beck and Connor were doing the nasty—” he told Hayes, shooting Beckett a questioning look like Beckett might interrupt him and announce, “Well, actually, we’re married with four kids.”
“Now ‘fess up, Navy! ” Loic commanded in a stern voice that was in direct contrast to his huge smile.
For the next minute or two, Loic remained silent, listening to Hayes. Beckett tried to focus on the game and block out their conversation. He knew Loic loved nothing better than to get a rise out of him, and Beckett certainly wasn’t about to—
“On his knees?!” Loic squawked, obviously quite shocked by Hayes’ remarks, as he turned to Beckett with eyes as big as saucers. “Damn, Beck! You’re kind of old for that!” he exclaimed, sounding impressed. “No shit—you know, I really shouldn’t be as surprised as I am that Beck’s a loud bott—”
“And that’s a wrap on my character assassination!
” Beckett barked as he snatched back his earpiece in a blur of motion.
Loic howled in protest. Beckett slapped the back of his head to shut him up.
“If you girls want to gossip, then you can get your own goddamned earpiece!” he snarled with a frown, shoving the device back in his ear only to hear nothing but peals of laughter.
“Are you even watching the fucking game? What are they paying you to do up there? Does your boss know you’re wasting his money trashing your boyfriend when you’re supposed to be working?
” Beckett was so pissed his voice had grown high-pitched, and he was almost shouting towards the end.
Several people within hearing range were now giving him funny looks.
Not all that surprising really, considering that unless you knew he had an earpiece, it looked like Beckett was talking to himself.
But it wasn’t as if Beckett cared about them anyway.
“My boss is your boss, sweetheart. You want to call him and tell him what I’m up to, you go right ahead and put it on speaker,” Hayes stated without inflection, sounding like the robot that Beckett had once believed him to be.
Beckett, on the other hand, would do just about anything to avoid contacting Gill to explain the salacious conversation they’d just had. For one thing, Gill never believed anything he said, and for another, it was all just too goddamned mortifying to think about.
“When did you get like this anyway? Dammit! You used to be civil!” Beckett declared, flailing about as he sat back down and picked up his cup of beer, only to find that it was now empty, having gotten knocked over during his most recent tussle with Loic.
“Fuck—this is definitely the wrong time to be sober,” he muttered as Loic howled with laughter and slapped his shoulder hard enough to rattle his teeth.
“Fuck right off, you treacherous cunt!” Beckett snapped.
“Who you talking to?” Hayes asked with a chuckle.
“You, him, both of you!” Beckett sounded aggrieved as he crossed his arms over his chest defensively.
Loic finally stopped laughing, but was still grinning like a loon.
“Tell Navy he still owes me a story.” Loic pointed towards Beckett’s earpiece.
“You’re never speaking to Hayes ever again. You two are permanently banned from seeing and speaking to each other, ever again!” Beckett frowned darkly, fighting the urge to pop Loic in the mouth.
“Come on, Becky—” Loic protested with a cajoling smile.
“Nope! Play stupid games, win stupid prizes,” Beckett announced in a singsong voice.
“Nothing stupid about you on your knees, Thérault,” Hayes said, voice low and suave, fully intent on getting Beckett all hot and bothered again.
“Daisy, I swear, if you don’t shut it, I’ll introduce you to my new favourite aromatherapy —chloro-fucking-form.”
Hayes merely chuckled warmly in Beckett’s ear and then fell silent.
“You’re super kinky, aren’t you?” Loic asked, scrutinizing Beckett’s profile, like he was trying to solve a puzzle.
“Papi, I swear I’ll smother your worthless ass, too, and you know I’m good for it,” Beckett vowed, his annoyance with Loic mixed with growing amusement at the sheer ludicrousness of their three-way conversation.
Loic laughed again but raised both hands in a gesture of surrender.