Page 6 of A Burning Rage

After checking the time, I groan. It’s only six. I usually don’t get up until seven. “This had better be important,” I mutter as I grab my phone and glance at the screen.

I’m surprised to see I have a text message from Troy Spencer, my attorney and close friend.

Troy – I need to see you this morning. 8 am your office?

It’s an odd request. When we meet, which we do often, we usually do it over lunch so we can kill two birds with one stone—take care of business and shoot the breeze. What’s so urgent it can’t wait until then?

Me – Sure. I’ll see you then.

I lie in bed for a little while longer, enjoying the feel of my wife sleeping in my arms. Her skin is like silk, and her hair smells like strawberries. I’m careful to keep my morning wood from prodding her backside because I don’t want to wake her up. She can sleep in as long as the kids do.

Soon, I hop out of bed to shower and quietly dress for work. When I head to the kitchen to grab a cup of coffee for the road, I’m not surprised to see the kitchen light on. Cooper is standing at the counter pouring himself a cup of coffee. Beth and I share this house with Cooper and his husband, Sam—each couple having their own private wing and sharing the common areas.

“Mornin’,” Cooper says in a low voice. He’s barely awake himself.

“Good morning.”

When I join him at the coffeemaker, he reaches into an overhead cupboard and grabs a stainless-steel travel mug for me.

Cooper is more than just a friend. He and I started McIntyre Security together after we both left military service. We met serving in the Marine Corps. Cooper was a shooting instructor and a sniper. He now runs our company’s shooting range, teaching classes and assessing applicants’ weapons skills.

He fills my mug with black coffee, pops on the lid, and hands it to me. “You’re up early.”

“Troy texted me. He wants to meet at eight.”

Cooper’s brow furrows. “Did he say what about?”

I take a sip of my coffee. “He didn’t go into details, just said we need to meet. It’s probably some routine corporate bullshit paperwork we need to file.”

Cooper nods as he sips his own coffee. “Probably.”

I lift my mug. “Thanks. I’d better get going. I’m going to be fighting traffic as it is.”

At that moment, a sleepy-eyed Sam walks into the kitchen, his red hair mussed from sleep, hanging loose from his usual topknot. He’s dressed in a pair of red plaid flannel sleep pants that hang low on his lean hips. He winces at the bright kitchen lights. “Why is everyone up so early?” he grumbles.

I chuckle at his pouty expression. “I have an early meeting at the office. You guys have a good day.” As I pass Sam, I pat his shoulder. “Take good care of my wife today.”

“Always do,” Sam says as he continues on toward Cooper, who’s holding out a cup of coffee for him.

Sam is Beth’s full-time bodyguard—has been ever since the Andrew Morton incident some years ago. He accompanies her everywhere she goes, and I rest easy knowing she’s in good hands.

Just as I reach the door to the garage, I pause to glance back at the two men who are as much brothers to me as my own siblings. “By the way, I think you guys should know, Beth’s period is overdue.”

“How long overdue?” Cooper asks, suddenly showing concern. He’s like a mother hen the way he fusses over her.

“She’s a few weeks late,” I say. “She’s still nursing, so it could be nothing.”

“She hasn’t tested?” Cooper asks, scowling at me like it’s my fault.

“She wants to wait a while.”

“Wait for what?” Cooper shakes his head in exasperation. “Fine. I’ll keep an eye on her. Her appetite is always the first thing to go. That’s how I could tell before when she was pregnant.”

I open the door to the garage. “Don’t tell her I told you. She’ll want it to be a surprise.”

Sam salutes me. “My lips are sealed, boss.”

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