Shifting his position, Regan leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. Silas’ remark only reminded him of the elephant in the room, the ‘would he or wouldn’t he’ take over the head of security role. Scrubbing a hand over his face, he pushed that thought aside for the moment. “Right, because baby-sitting you two isn’t work, not at all.” He shot back, an easy going grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.
“King of the impatient, that’s a new one.” Regan remarked as Brandon joined in on the conversation. “And how is the niece doing?” He hadn’t had a chance to stop in and see Leah’s daughter yet. If he was being entirely honest part of him didn’t want to, not yet. Because seeing Mari would only serve as another reminder of Soli – his wife had always loved and been good with children and probably would have adored the little girl. Before the world had begun to fall apart they had even been talking kids themselves, but now, well, now that wasn’t going to ever happen.
With a barely contained laugh, Regan held out his hand. “Not going to bitch, not if Tennessee Whiskey is going to be withheld,” he only paused for a beat before adding. “Now hand it over, Kid.” The nickname was one he rarely used anymore, an old throwback to when their partnership and friendship had first begun.
“So, Leah’s going to help me do up a memorial for Sol,” he couldn’t entirely explain why he just blurted that out. His goal tonight had been to not focus on his loss. Maybe it was the mention of Tennessee Whiskey – she had always kept a bottle in the house just for him – or maybe it was just that he needed to get it off his chest. Whatever it was, there wasn’t really any sense in backtracking and taking it back now.