We all sort of looked at Everly at the same time; maybe because she was the quietest part of the room.

He pointed at her. "Callum's girl."

She pointed back at him. "Childhood Partner In Crime."

"Well what are your thoughts?" he asked, trying to keep his expression serious. "Should we remove his stomach while he's still breathing?"

She glanced between us. "I think living in fear will suffice, Sergeant Petros."

Nick picked her up into a tight hug. "I knew liked this girl," he called over his shoulder to me, "Matter of fact, I think I like her so much I might just have to kiss her." He swung Everly around and dipped her as if he was going to kiss her-and even though I knew he was just fooling around-it boiled under my skin. Not the kiss, not the joke, but how carelessly he was handling her. He didn't know any better, but I didn't have control over what was happening and it scattered my rationality. I pulled on his arm until they were upright and then shoved him away.

"Don't ever fuckin' grab her like that."

He glowed with alarm. "It was just a joke. I wasn't really gonna kiss her."

"I don't give a damn about the joke. Just don't ever touch her like that." I pulled Everly against me and she felt rigid tucked under my arm. I regretted my actions instantly.

Nick held up his hand. "I didn't mean to piss you off." He looked at Everly. "I'm sorry."

She only nodded as she stared at the floor.

Tatum broke the tension. "Don't blame Callum. You'd be pissed off wearing that shirt, too."

After a moment Nick laughed. "Seriously though, what the hell are you wearing, brother?"

"You should have seen him with the mullet," Tatum replied.

"But . . ." his face contorted, "Why?"

Tatum leaned her head against his chest "Our Callum here done found him a tan-legged-Juliet. Theys movin' to Georgia to have babies and get hitched. In that order I reckon."

Nick shook his head in confusion. "I have been gone way too damn long."

Nicholas Petros was well trained in coded communication. Gunnery Sargent for the United States Military equipped him with such a gift. From across the crowded Thanksgiving table he gave me the signal that he had remembered to bring The Goods. After a coded-nod he stood and said he had to get a new fork (his "accidentally" fell on the floor and, "Why no Mrs. Trovatto, I'll get it myself Ma'am, thank you.") Next, he called Tatum into the kitchen to help him find a fork because, "Darn man can shoot a moving target from two-thousand yards and hit a bulls-eye but I'll be damned if he can find a fork on his own. Coming!"

I nudged Everly's knee under the table. She looked up from her barely touched plate of food. "Would you like more wine? I should pour you another glass." I didn't wait for an answer, just curled my fingers around her hand and scooted away from the table before anyone could protest.

On the back porch of my house, four individuals had made a properly executed escape.

"That was pretty damn good for civilians," Nick laughed, and tossed a brown bag at me. "Someone will probably call the cops as soon as the first boom sounds, so we better light them together." Everly wasn't sure what we were up to, but still looked excited to be included, and not left inside like the Debbie Downer Noelle had turned into.

I dug a handful of fireworks from the bag and followed Nick to the middle of the yard. He cursed as he knelt in the snow. "The trees are hanging lower than last year. Let's pray to Jesus that we don't burn down your dad's house, Cal."

Tatum snorted, looked at Everly. "Take a man out of uniform and suddenly he's twelve again, afraid of a little trouble." She nudged her foot into her husband's side and he pulled her down with a tactical move, which made Everly smile bright.

"Sorry," Nick played, "must have been one of those PTSD things they keep going on about."

Tatum hummed as she wrapped her arms around his neck. "Take me down anytime you like, Sargent Petros."

I interrupted. "Excuse me, but I have seen this girl in Barbie Doll pajamas. No sex stuff in my presence. Thank you."

Tatum smiled at me, still trapped under Nick. "You have the love of your life pulled away from you at year-long lengths and then you can have a say in how we interact."

They climbed to their feet and got back to business. I handed Everly a Roman candle, and then stuck the rest of the fireworks in the ground beside Nick's. Tatum grumbled as Nick handed her a Sparkler. "What is this sissy shit? Honestly, babe?"

"Sargent or not, one can only smuggle so much illegal shit into New York. Switch with Callum's girl. She looks nervous anyhow."

Everly was willing to trade up, but I stopped the hand-off. "No fuckin' way. Everly's father is Timothy Brighton. That means this girl has lived her life under the oppression of a tyrant. There is no way we are going to honor the sanctity of illegal fireworks in the freest country in the entire goddamn universe by making her hold a Sparkler. Tater, light the missiles with the love of your life if you need an adrenaline rush, but Everly is keeping that Roman."

Tatum glanced between me and Nick. He pursed his lips before he said, "We are doing this to set the world right . . . sooooo . . . Ican'treallyarguewithCallumonthatbabe."

I grinned, shaking my head at him. "Chicken shit."