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No one stopped him. They all knew better than to treat him like some rambunctious kid and ask him to sit.
He reached the tall window again. It was covered in a filmy sheer curtain that allowed him to see just how low the sun was sinking in the sky.
It had been too many hours since Livia had left the bed in the bunkhouse. Hours since he’d seen or spoken to her.
Folding his arms, he shot a sideways look at Colton seated at the head of the long dining room table.
His man tipped his chin up in recognition. “You want to add something to the plan?”
“No. I want to get the hell out of this room and back to my woman.”
Hunter’s lips twisted, and he looked down at the table to keep the others from seeing it. Ledger appeared mildly amused.
Colton just cocked a brow.
“Look, I know this is important—the life-or-death kind of important. But we’ve all had enough plotting against the enemy for one session. What else can be said that will make or break us?”
Colton scrubbed a hand over his face. “You’re right. I guess I got carried away.”
Hunter pushed his chair away from the table. “We should light up a bonfire and relax for a few before first watch.”
They all looked at Ledger. In the military, the rookie usually got the less intriguing jobs. In this case, fire watch, or night watch. Lucky for Carver, he missed out on that when he was placed on bodyguard duty.
Ledger shrugged. “I don’t mind watch.”
Carver and Colton exchanged a look. Plenty of times before that horrible day they lost so many, Ledger had set himself apart. Carver suspected he carried enough PTSD to crave solitude. While it wasn’t exactly good for him, Carver understood it.
He tipped his head toward the door. “We’re all going to the fire first. There’s time enough to wait for ghosts.”
The statement brought silence over the group. Too many ghosts walked over all of their graves. How many more bodies would they drop before this was over?
He strode to the door and opened it. The Graceys’ house rang with a lonely quiet like they’d just returned from a funeral. He wondered how often the house felt like this, if it had been this way since their mother died or later after Forest died.
After a quick circle of the rooms, he located all three women seated on the deck, empty cocktail glasses beside them.
Shadows extended along the floor behind each of them, but he fixed his gaze on the one in the center. The woman who cast that shadow had a grip on his heart that would never let go.
An uneasy feeling rippled through him.
“Hey, ladies.” His voice sounded gruff.
They turned to look at him. He knew he was in shadow too, but felt Livia’s gaze on him.
“We’re headed to the bonfire. May I escort you?”
All three gained their feet and crossed the deck to meet him. He looked down to see that not a single one wore shoes or socks.
The sight made him smile. Which felt odd after what he’d just experienced.
“I’ll wait out front while you get some shoes on.”
When the ladies came outside, he stepped up to Livia and clasped her hand. She let him take it—but he felt tension running through her like a low vibration. At one point, she twitched as if about to pull away, but she didn’t.
Once they rounded the barn, the crackle of burning wood and the strains of Zach Webb’s guitar greeted them.
An image rose in Carver’s head of the last time he and Livia sat around this fire with their friends. Neither of them had been able to wait until they could be alone together. They’d barely made it to Livia’s house before they were going at each other.
Now he felt a change in her.
