Page 67 of Lucky Boys
Mav’s eyes trailed down Brooks’s mostly naked body, eyes locked on the threadbare fabric. “That’s not underwear, brat. It’s obscene.”
Brooks grinned and wiggled his eyebrows. “I know, right?”
I shook my head and slumped into the seat next to Brooks. “Eat, trouble. We’ll have plenty of time for play later.”
He sighed heavily but picked up his fork and shoveled in a big bite of eggs.
Maverick and Skye took their places at the table, and soon we were all busy eating. Breakfast was nice and easy. After we were done, the dishes cleaned up, we gathered all in my office, getting ready to call Diego.
Brooks had hung back to talk to him first so they could check in on each other. My boy had been worried, and I hoped that talking to his brother without us hovering would alleviate some of his concerns.
About ten minutes later, Brooks joined us, still caught up in his conversation.
“Holy shit, is Wes there? Wait, is Wes in his pajamas? Did he sleep there?”
That got all our attention as Brooks bounded in the room. He had changed into real clothes now, black jeans and a long-sleeved baby-blue T-shirt with a color blocked pattern in the front. Despite it being August, it was chilly in the mornings here, so we’d packed warmer than we would wear at home.
I couldn’t see Diego, since the screen wasn’t facing me, but I swore I heard his eyes roll. “You already knew Wes slept here. He probably will be most nights while you’re gone. You made him my babysitter, remember?”
“Yeah, but he was sleeping on your office couch! Don’t lie. I saw him! Holy shit, was Wes your bed buddy last night?”
Brooks was practically bouncing with excitement and hopped up on the desk in front of me, his legs dangling in between mine where I was sitting in my desk chair. Maverick and Skye had both pulled chairs around and were lounging nearby, watching Brooks with curiosity and hunger.
“Shut up. I’m pretty sure that’s not your business.”
Brooks pouted. “Why not? I told you all about my bed buddies last night.”
Diego laughed. “Is that what we’re calling them now?”
Brooks opened his mouth to speak, and I had a feeling things were about to go off the rails so I pinched his thigh, getting his attention.
He frowned at me. “What was that for?”
“You’re getting distracted, trouble. Meeting first, then you can interrogate Diego.”
“Okay!”
“Ready, then, D? There’s a big ass monitor here. I’ll transfer you over.”
“Yeah, I’m ready.”
Brooks made the switch and we all turned to the monitor mounted on the wall. “Hi, Diego,” I greeted him. “How’s everything back home?”
His cheeks were bright red and he looked down at his keyboard. “Good . . .” Oh, that was an interesting response.
Skye leaned over and whispered in Brooks’s ear loud enough for me to hear, “Oh, Wes totally was his bed buddy.”
“Mm-hmmm.”
I ignored the troublemakers and focused on the task at hand. “You said you have news on Damian Larsen?”
“Oh, yeah.” He started to pull up stuff onto the screen. “So here’s the run down on what we already know, but I don’t thinkit would hurt to have a recap. Damian Larsen, thirty-five years old. Born in Helsinki where he lived till he was twelve. He spent three years in Paris living with his grandparents before moving to the United States. He went to Yale for international relations for two years, and then he all but disappeared until two years ago, when he showed back up eighty miles away from where he was born.”
Diego pulled up some photos, a U.S. passport picture, a Finish driver’s license, and what looked to be a much younger Damian in a high school graduation picture holding a Yale pendant.
“CIA?” Skye asked the question we all were wondering. Usually, when someone went off the grid like that, a three-letter agency was responsible. Diego just shrugged.
“It’s possible, but I can’t prove anything.”
