Operation Two-Shot

​

Set during Prepared, 

while Gray and Abel are on the yacht, 

right before the wedding

 

“I need to stop fuckin’ sweating.” Darius pushed open the door to the restaurant and loosened his tie, then undid the top buttons of his shirt. Fucking hell. Maybe it hadn’t been his best plan to help out with the decorations on the pier right fucking before he got hitched.

 

He wanted to see Gray, but that would have to wait. For…twenty minutes or so.

 

“All right, let’s do an Operation Two-Shot.” Ryan walked behind the bar and grabbed a bottle of whiskey from the top shelf. “Calmin’ your nerves should help with the sweating.”

 

“I’m not fucking nervous,” Darius snapped.

 

Ry lifted his brows.

 

Fuck it. Whatever.

​

Darius clenched his jaw and sat down at one of the tables, and he wiped a hand across his forehead.

 

His restaurant looked…great. Everything was set up for the reception. Gray’s ma had been a top-notch wedding planner. Round tables everywhere, with white tablecloths, nice china, and decorations.

 

He swallowed dryly and spotted three others outside heading for the entrance. River, Reese, and Elliott.

 

Safe to say, Darius wasn’t used to seeing his buddies in suits. It’d happened once or twice when they’d attended funerals together.

 

Elliott opened the door and smirked. “How are the nerves, Quinn?”

 

Ryan answered first. “We need an Operation Two-Shot.”

 

“Nice. It’s been a while.” Reese rubbed his hands together and aimed for the bar.

 

“I’m not sweating because of nerves,” Darius defended. “You fuckin’ saw me help out with the decorations.”

 

“What I didn’t see were Em and Danny,” Elliott noted. “I thought they were comin’.”

 

Darius shook his head. “They canceled last minute.” Presumably for classified reasons. They all knew what that was like. He’d lost track of the number of special occasions he’d missed over the years. Birthdays, anniversaries, christenings…

 

But that was over now. He couldn’t fucking describe how ready he was to start this next chapter with his knucklehead. Just them and their family. And maybe seeing his own friends for reasons other than rescuing someone from a cartel or bringing down human traffickers.

 

“You know what that means,” River said. “They’re gonna overcompensate on the wedding gift.”

 

Ryan chuckled.

 

Darius cracked a faint smile and pulled out his phone. Sixteen minutes to go. Fuck. His chest felt tight with the nerves he denied were there, and he’d officially reached the stage where irrational fears raged within him. Such as, Gray getting cold feet and bailing.

 

“What was Coach’s excuse for not showin’ up?” Reese asked.

 

“I didn’t invite him,” Darius replied. “I knew he was gonna be busy with deployments—but we talked. It’s all good. Sooner or later, I gotta bring Gray out there anyway. We can get together then.”

 

“You can stay with us,” Reese said firmly.

 

Darius eyed him. “As long as you don’t make us visit your House of Debauchery again.”

 

That made the twins laugh—and Ryan too.

 

Kinky fuckers.

 

Ryan came over with shots for everyone. Two each. And Darius couldn’t lie anymore. He needed them both.

 

“Get ready—I’mma make a toast, boys,” Elliott declared.

 

Darius accepted his shot glasses and waited impatiently. The clock was ticking. But knowing Elliott, it was going to be quick.

 

“Make me cry, Jones,” Ryan requested. “I know you can do it. You’ve done it before.”

 

Elliott grinned and raised his first glass. “Next time.” Instead, he turned to Darius. “Quinn—you grumpy fuck. Happiness looks damn good on you. And after everything we’ve been through together over the years, it feels extra special when one of us finds a sunset to ride off into.”

 

As sweet as it was, to Darius, it was mostly sobering—because of the truth of Elliott’s statement. For every friend who’d found their perfect match, there was at least one divorce, one cheating scandal, and sometimes a death, too.

 

“I’m happy for you, buddy,” Elliott went on. “In a few minutes, you’ll start the rest of your life with someone who better have patience and a Quinn sense of humor.”

 

Ryan found that funny.

 

“Hear, hear,” Reese laughed.

 

Darius exhaled a chuckle and tipped his glass in Elliott’s direction. “So far, so good.” He threw back the first shot and made a face, then figured he could say a few words too. As nerve-racking as this was, he was glad to be spending these final moments with the men he’d shared purgatory with for so many years.

 

So he rose from his seat and lifted his second shot. “I’ll get this out of the way too,” he started by saying. “I’m glad y’all’re here. We’ve been to hell and back many times, and we’re the ones who get it.”

 

The men glanced at one another and nodded briefly.

 

“Jones, I hope you’re next,” Darius said. “God knows we’ve fuckin’ earned some happiness in our retirement.”

 

River raised his glass as well. “To a happy retirement and never setting foot in Hillcroft again.”

 

Elliott, Darius, and Reese were quick to drink to that, but Ryan protested halfheartedly.

 

“Well, now. The money’s still good, and buildin’ a house is expensive—but I’ll drink to our happily ever afters.”

 

“To our happily ever afters,” Darius echoed.

 

Now he just needed to brush his teeth and reapply deodorant, and he was good to go. Within minutes, he’d have Gray in his arms, and they’d ride off into that sunset together.

 

“Incoming,” River said quietly, eyeing the front door.

 

Darius followed his gaze, spotting Avery. Okay, good. It was time. Shit. His stomach tightened uncomfortably.

 

He blew out a breath, and Ryan closed the distance to help him with his tie.

 

“Time to get you married, big brother.”

 

Reese offered a smirk and a two-finger wave. “We’ll see you out there, buddy.”

 

Darius managed a quick nod, unable to speak.

 

Gray would show up, right?

 

“How you feelin’?” Ryan asked.

 

Darius swallowed hard. “Like it shoulda been Operation Three-Shot.”

 

Ryan’s eyes flashed with amusement. “Suck it up.”

 

Excellent advice, truly. He was a terrific best man.