Zane saw the look on Ty’s face before the other man shook it off.
“Did you want to be a coal miner?” he asked.
“Nobody wants to be a coal miner,” Ty answered evenly. He looked up at Zane and studied him, pondering the rest of the answer. “But then, nobody wants to get shot at, neither,” he added thoughtfully. “I wouldn’t have been a coal miner. They don’t mine coal in Bluefield anymore. But my daddy minded the abandoned mines. He was a caretaker after they were shut down.
Meant he was still in those damn mines all the time, making sure no one got down there and lost or trapped. Monitoring collapses. And I would have been doing it, too. Or off in another town doing the real thing. I had to choose between a fear of bullets and a fear of small spaces,” he admitted. “Turns out bullets ain’t that scary, after all.”
Nodding, Zane finished off his burger. He studied the other man as he chewed, putting together the details he’d crow barred out. The little bit of his history made Ty much more human.
Ty returned his attention to his food, feeling eyes on him and just letting Zane stare for a while. “So what else was there, Serpico?” he finally asked after a tense moment of silence. “Need my blood type? SAT scores?”
Zane’s brow wrinkled. “Did you go to college or just join the Marines?”
That question did rankle, but Ty visibly repressed his initial reaction.
He exhaled loudly and pushed his plate away.
“You did say SAT scores,” Zane reminded.
“I went to college,” Ty gritted, acknowledging that he had indeed opened up that door. “Government paid for it.”
Zane nodded slowly, feeling as well as seeing the tension back in the other man. “Nothing wrong with that,” he said. “You earned it."”
Ty cut his gaze up to look at Zane from under lowered brows. “You humoring me, Lone Star?”
Zane set his plate on the table with a clunk. “If you served our country in the armed forces, you deserve it.” He was dead serious; it showed clearly in his eyes.
Ty glared at the man for a brief moment longer and then looked back down. “Thirteen-ten,” he finally answered with a nod.
Raising a brow, Zane sat back with a nod. “Well-done,” he complimented.
“Bite me,” Ty muttered as he poked at his chicken and frowned.
“National average is eleven-fifty,” Zane said, a small smile curling his lips. Tough guy obviously didn’t take compliments well. It was almost endearing.
“I find it disturbing that you know that offhand,” Ty informed his partner flatly.
Zane shrugged. “Numbers stick with me.”
“I find that disturbing, too,” Ty deadpanned.
“Disturbing, huh? Maybe I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“Whatever helps your ego,” Ty muttered with a shake of his head.
“How’d you fall into this, anyway?” he asked, ready to change the subject.
Zane considered what to share, figuring Ty would rag him about anything he gave up. “I jumped.”
“And then the rope broke?” Ty supplied.
“More like they cut it and let me fall,” Zane muttered, turning back to the files and starting to shift them. “I was totally unprepared for the academy.”
“Wait wait, let me guess,” Ty said as he held out his hand toward Zane. “Psychology major with a...,” he narrowed his eyes and cocked his head, “political science minor,” he guessed.
“Statistics and Spanish. Before law school,” Zane admitted, not looking over at the other man.
“Don’t tell me you’re a lawyer,” Ty groaned in response. “I was starting to almost not hate you.”
Zane snorted and glanced up. “No, I’m not a lawyer. I was saved from that gruesome fate by an academy recruiter.”
“Send that man flowers,” Ty ordered.
Zane actually laughed. “I agree ... now. Then? I wanted to skin him.
Slowly.”
“Why? Were you the mascot being tortured in your academy class?”
Ty asked.
Eyes narrowing, Zane’s good humor faded. Bad memories did that. “I bet you were top of the class at climbing that damn rope,” he muttered crankily. “For me, it was only four months of utter hell. Then I got to go through it again. How lucky is that?”
Ty frowned and cocked his head, looking Zane over critically. “You got recycled?” he asked incredulously.
Zane looked over at him and could tell right away why Ty was asking. “Out of grad school I was six-five and one-seventy. Not a scrap of muscle on me.”
Ty’s eyebrows climbed in surprise, but he shook his head and shrugged. “Must have been hell on wheels with the mental parts of it,” he ventured.
The answer was a wry smile. “Fifteen-eighty.”
“What happened with the other twenty, spell your name wrong?” Ty asked with a teasing smile.
The smile warmed a little. “Thanks,” Zane said deadpan.
“What’s the Z stand for?” Ty asked abruptly. “Zane Z. Garrett,” he mused with a slight wince. “Momma didn’t like you much, huh?” he inquired in amusement.
“Family name,” Zane said with a shrug. “Zachary. Nothing really scary. And in Texas, Zane is fairly common.” He squinted at Ty. “I remember Burns said your name. Something Tyler Grady. An initial for your first name.
I was too busy being horrified about being paired up with you to catch it.”
“Probably better for it,” Ty told him with a shrug, obviously having no intention of answering or meeting Zane’s eyes while he had his mind on it.
Zane raised one eyebrow and considered pushing, but since they were finally actually talking, he didn’t want to ruin it. So he opted for humor. “You were right about the name.”
“Of course I was,” Ty responded almost immediately. He looked up and narrowed his eyes. “Right about what?” he asked.
Zane sighed. “About my name. And the other twenty points?”
Ty stared at him blankly for several long moments. Finally, he closed his eyes and shook his head. “You spelled your name wrong on the SATs?”
he asked in exasperation.
“No,” Zane said, smiling slightly. “I left out my middle initial.” His eyes sparkled and he was hard put not to smile.
“Jackass,” Ty muttered under his breath.
The grin broke free and Zane chuckled before leaning back and looking up at the ceiling, drawing in an even breath and relaxing. “It was embarrassing,” he tacked on, just for effect.