“Hey, no offense. It’s why I asked.” The coach lifted two hands. The universal sign of no hard feelings, but Kreed didn’t feel like accepting that truce as he scowled. “Okkaayyy.”
“Hey, everyone! It’s on!” Colt had a massive television brought into the middle of the family room in honor of an ESPN special on Jace’s cheer gym. This was the first night the special would air, and since just about everyone in the place worked for Jace, the entire room gathered around the screen. Colt stood right up front, remote in hand, raising the volume as he dimmed the lights with another remote.
Mitch came to stand close to Kreed. Cody hadn’t slowed in his beer consumption and was hanging out closer to Aaron, who by Kreed’s best estimation had just started on his third plate of food. Aaron seemed to be having a good time on the other side of the room, which was technically as far as he could get from Kreed. Smart boy was animated and friendly, surrounded by people closer to his own age, probably the same reason Cody gravitated that direction.
Kreed purposefully kept his distance, wanting Aaron to maintain the happy place he’d developed. A happy that he’d only seen over the last twenty-four hours until he’d blown it with the leg cramp.
“You’re quiet,” Mitch said softly. They were supposed to be absorbed in the television special. Actually, Jace and his team didn’t seem to care so much, but Colt was riveted to the screen.
“I’m good. I get it more now,” Kreed answered quietly, staring at the television.
“Get what?” Mitch asked.
“What happened to you,” Kreed explained, nodding toward Colt and Jace. He still hadn’t made eye contact with Knox.
“Huh. I’ve been thinking about that. I came to the conclusion it’s probably more the whole thing. Them, the case, the hate following so closely. It’s kind of life-altering,” Mitch replied honestly. Kreed finally looked over at his partner who was focused solely on Cody. Kreed didn’t respond.
Mitch lifted his beer to his lips, taking a long drink before a sour look crossed his face. “Ugh. I don’t know why I did that. I hate hot beer.”
“Yeah, me too,” Kreed said, tilting his head to indicate his discarded bottle. It wasn’t more than a third gone over the last couple of hours.
“Aaron seems in a better mood.”
“He’s been pretty up since he did so well yesterday,” Kreed answered. His gaze ventured to Aaron before moving back to the television. He’d probably unconsciously sought out Aaron about twenty times over the last thirty minutes. He could tell himself he was only watching his partner’s back, but truthfully, that wasn’t the only reason he kept an eye on Aaron. Not that he’d admit that to anyone…ever.
“You two getting along?” Mitch asked.
“Sure,” Kreed said, a bit guarded.
“It doesn’t seem like it,” Mitch retorted, now staring at Kreed.
“We’re trying. Takes time.” Kreed shrugged.
“What’re you gonna do when they reassign me?”
Fuck.
He so didn’t want to have this conversation right now. In fact, he didn’t want to have it at all—ever.
“I’m not thinking about that right now,” Kreed answered honestly. Damn, he wished he had a cold beer in his hand.
“It won’t be my choice,” Mitch said, a darkness underlying his tone. That was something Kreed could relate to. He was happy with his life just the way it had been before all the shit hit the fan.
“I know,” he finally added. They were silent for several long minutes. For the first time since he’d entered this house, his focus wasn’t on Aaron. Mitch had finally made a real reference to the huge elephant sitting between them. He couldn’t have asked for a better partner than Mitch. Honestly, Kreed wasn’t entirely certain he wanted to continue with the marshal service without Mitch there by his side, and that just pissed him off that much more. Maybe it was time to reevaluate his life plan. Kreed stared absently at the screen, wishing he could think of any way to stop the inevitability of losing Mitch as a partner.
“Hey, Michaels, how come all those kids jump when Montgomery just looks their way?” Mitch called out in his standard way of diverting attention to escape the heavy conversation they were having.
“I know, right? My baby’s a scary guy at work,” Colt answered, pride in those words.
“Yeah, right,” Jace started, his tone showing his discomfort with that statement.
“No, he is!” It was the girl sitting on a barstool next to Aaron who spoke, drawing all the attention her way. If he remembered correctly, her name was Haley. She was Jace’s number two at the gym. “You should see him. He’s like this force that no one wants to mess with. He stands there with his arms crossed over his chest and his legs apart and he never smiles.”
Haley jumped down and assumed the position, making fun of Jace. She had everyone in the room laughing at the disgruntled look on her face. “Yeah, just like that.” She pointed to Jace, who was standing exactly like she’d said, glaring back at her now. “He gets that look, and it just freaks everyone out. No one wants to disappoint him.”
“You don’t seem to mind,” Jace shot back at Haley.
“That’s because you love me.” She batted her eyes and hopped back on the stool.
“She’s right, though. He’s like two different guys. Watch this.” Colt replayed a specific part where a team was on the mat during a performance, to the right and left of the floor there were darkened figures jumping up and down, cheering the team on. Right in the middle was a man standing there, not moving an inch, even with all that chaos going on around him. “That’s Jace. He’s the guy in the middle. That’s my cheer man. While everyone’s jumping all over the place, excited at how well this team did, he’s studying them, going over each step in his mind. This team just won Worlds and he never cracked a smile,” Colt explained.
“You’re making me sound terrible.”