Page 192 of Back in the Saddle

I knew Eric knew this with just how much more his smile shone from his eyes before he bossed, “Go get your phone and pull up the menu while I pull up DoorDash and get the order started.”

“I live to serve,” I muttered as I moved away from him.

I got a vagina ripple when I heard his return mutter, “At times, you will,” as I walked to the bedroom.

I located my phone in my pants and started back to the kitchen, but stopped dead halfway down the hall when I engaged the screen.

I pulled up the first text from a number I didn’t know, sensing I knew what I was going to get.

I was right.

This is Jeff. My new number. And I just want you to know I love you.

I took a shuddering breath.

Then I pulled up the next text.

Hermanita, thanks for this morning. You now got my number. Store it and I’m there anytime you need me. J

Javi.

I texted Jeff:Love you too. Thanks for your number. And try to keep your chin up.

To Javi, I said:I’m there anytime too, hermanito.

I walked into the kitchen and saw Eric leaned into his forearms on my bar, his phone in his hands, but when I showed, his head turned my way.

And he caught my vibe because his voice was quiet and cautious when he asked, “What?”

I lifted my hand and shook my phone side to side. “Jeff gave me his new number.”

That was when his whole, gorgeous face went soft. “Good.”

“Javi gave me his number too,” I told him, coming in closer, a lot closer, so much so, my stomach was brushing his hip. Once there, I leaned my side against the counter.

I was pulling up the Mad Greens menu when Eric announced, “I’m gonna tell you something, sweetheart, and I want your okay on it.”

I turned my attention to him.

“I’m gonna suggest to Mace that we make moves to recruit Javi and Jeff to the team,” he announced.

My breath stopped coming.

Eric kept talking.

“We have some intel on the last member of their crew. Not sure he’d be a good fit. The partners have a zero-tolerance policy about drugs, except marijuana. That said, there’s no pot usage for twenty-four hours if you’re going to be on duty or at all if you’re in the middle of a case. This isn’t an issue because none of us use weed. Javi does, only occasionally. Same with your brother. But the last member of their team, a guy named Cody, is a habitual user. To the point he might have a problem with addiction.”

One, it seemed they’d made great inroads into amassing info about Javier and his crew.

Two, I was weirdly relieved the last member of that crew didn’t have a J name.

“Cody is also much younger,” Eric went on. “He’s only twenty-three. As far as we can tell, Javi doesn’t use him in the heavy shit. He’s usually surveillance or their wheel man.” A smile quirked his lips. “And since they don’t have an anonymous benefactor, they all have jobs, and Cody doesn’t do too badly. He’s self-taught and designs e-commerce websites.”

“What does my brother do?” I asked.

“He works with Javi at Sky Harbor as a baggage handler.”

I knew to my bones this was a waste for both of them. No shade to baggage handlers. Their job was important, not easy and probably held no small amount of stress.

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