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“Good to meet you, Neil.”
“Likewise.”
I narrowed my eyes at Oberon, warned him silently to back the fuck off with his flirting shit, and then when Oberon nodded, I left him and Neil talking about alarms and headed over to Carter, holding court in the corner. Not that I stopped watching my former CO.
“Carter. Nice to meet you face-to-face finally,” I said, my voice low as I stepped closer and bro-hugged him. “Thanks for the help. I owe you.”
He shrugged, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Likewise, and yes, you do.”
We exchanged grins, the kind that said more than words ever could. Then, with a glance around the room, we all settled into the backroom, the atmosphere shifting from casual to something more solemn.
Oberon raised a glass, his expression serious now, and we all followed suit. “To everyone we’ve lost,” he said, hisvoice steady but tinged with the weight of loss. “Gone too soon, but never forgotten.”
We all echoed the sentiment, our glasses clinking together in unity. The taste of the whiskey was sharp on my tongue, burning its way down my throat, but it wasn’t just the alcohol that made my chest tighten. It was the memories—of the men and women, of all the missions we’d shared with others, the close calls, and the relationships forged in the fire of combat.
Neil stood beside me, silent but present, and I felt a surge of gratitude that he was here, that he’d agreed to step into this part of my life.
The conversation picked up again, the tension easing as we shifted from mourning to reminiscing. Stories were shared, jokes made at each other’s expense, the kind only those who’d been through the worst together could tell.
I found myself relaxing into the evening, the presence of my teammates—my brothers—grounding me in a way I hadn’t realized I needed. And with Neil by my side, I felt more complete than I had in a long time. This was my world, chaotic and messy, but it was mine. And now, it was ours.
Oberon cornered me an hour into the event, nursing a drink. With that all-too-familiar intensity, he asked, “So, have you thought any more about the job offer? You know, working with me and Trick?”
The question hung in the air, and I could feel Neil’s presence beside me, solid and steady. I glanced over at him, his expression neutral, but I knew him well enough by now to catch the subtle tension in his jaw. He listened closely, probably expecting me to be torn about the offer.Hell, a few weeks ago, I might have chosen to leave Whisper Ridge.
But now?
Now, I wasn’t torn at all.
I turned back to Oberon, meeting his gaze. “I’m still thinking about it, but Whisper Ridge is where I need to be right now.”
Oberon raised an eyebrow, surprised by how adamant I sounded. “Really? I figured you’d be itching to get back into the action, to be part of a team again.”
I shrugged, a small smile tugging at the corner of my lips. “Whisper Ridge has its own kind of action. And besides, I’m not alone there. I’ve got things—people—that matter.”
Neil didn’t say anything, but I could feel the shift in the air between us. It wasn’t just relief—it was something deeper that felt like a step forward in this complicated thing we had going on. He might not say it out loud, but I knew he was glad I’d chosen to stay.
Oberon studied me for a long moment before nodding with a slight smile. “All right, Connor. If that’s what you want, I’m happy for you. But the offer stands if you ever change your mind.”
“Thanks, but I’m good,” I replied, feeling more confident than ever. Being with Neil was my place, my life—at least until Neil was done with my shit—and I wasn’t looking to leave it behind.
As the conversation shifted to lighter topics, I couldn’t help but glance at Neil again. His eyes met mine, and in that unspoken way we had, I hoped we were on the samepage. Whisper Ridge was where I belonged, and wherever this thing between us was going, it was worth staying for.
We madeit back to Whisper Ridge to help Neil’s mom get his dad to the assisted living facility in Collier Springs. Neil’s dad had taken another turn for the worse, the bullet fragment in his brain shifting and wreaking havoc on his ability to understand the world around him. In a matter of weeks, his condition had deteriorated, leaving him confused and lost. He didn’t even know Neil and watching that realization dawn on Neil’s face broke my heart.
I’d offered to go with them, to be there for whatever they needed, and Neil didn’t argue. He nodded, a silent acceptance I was part of this now.
Bessie was there, too, with Eric and Jason. Neil drove his dad in the sheriff’s SUV, the old man mumbling about procedures and witnesses as he was helped in, lost in a time way before the bullet and dementia had taken over. Neil didn’t try to correct him, didn’t try to bring him back to the present. He listened, living in his dad’s world with him, as he helped his quiet and subdued mom into the back, her hands twisting in her lap as she stared out of the window.
I’d volunteered to drive Bessie and her family in my SUV, and when we arrived at Whispering Pines Assisted Living, I parked next to Neil’s vehicle. The place was nice, as far as these places go—clean, well-kept, with expansivelawns and rooms with big windows letting in plenty of light. It didn’t make any of this easier, though.
I saw Neil helping his dad out of the SUV, one hand on his arm, the other on his back, guiding him with a gentleness that made my chest ache. Bessie was helping her mom out of the backseat, and Eric and Jason were standing by, unsure what to do with themselves. A heavy silence hung over us, the kind that comes when everyone knows something’s ending, but no one wants to say it out loud.
Neil’s dad glanced around, his eyes cloudy with confusion, and mumbled something about needing to file a report. Neil guided him toward the entrance. His face was a mask of calm I knew was hiding a storm underneath.
I fell into step beside Bessie, offering her a small smile as we walked. “How’s Jason holding up?” I asked quietly, glancing at the teenager with his hands in his pockets, staring anywhere but at the facility.
“He’s… coping,” Bessie replied, her voice tight. “It’s hard for him to see his grandpa like this, but he’s doing his best.”
