Destiny's Delta (Special Forces: Operation Alpha) (Delta Team Three Book 2)

by Becca Jameson

  But tonight, he’d look her straight in the eye.

  He backed her into the corner, angled her so her fine ass was against the wall, and crowded her. Damn, she’s gorgeous. Twelve years ago, she hadn’t quite filled out. Now…she had more of a figure. She was still slim and lithe with long legs and not an ounce of fat on her, but she had boobs and curves.

  Her tight curls that had been unruly when she was a kid were tamed into submission. He kinda missed the wild look but figured she found this to be more sophisticated. Her skin was a gorgeous honey tone that everyone envied. Her father had been African American or perhaps from the Caribbean while her mother was white, and she’d gotten perfect skin that made anyone glance twice. Including Trent.

  The white, formfitting dress she wore had spaghetti straps and barely extended over her fantastic ass. The white wedge heels made her legs go on forever.

  “How are you?” he asked, unable to pull his thoughts together and decide what he wanted to say.

  “Good. Fine. You?” She tipped her head back and smiled at him, swaying slightly to one side.

  He grabbed her shoulders to steady her. Yeah, she was drunk. He drew in a breath, catching her scent and nearly groaning. She still smelled like vanilla. Whatever body wash and lotion she’d used as a teenager was still her preference. “Living life.” Missing you.

  It was ridiculous that he still harbored feelings for her after all these years, but no matter how much time went by or how many women he dated, he still longed for what could have been if he’d played his cards differently.

  She glanced down at his chest. “You look good. I think you get broader every time I see you.” She patted his chest and then removed her hand as if he’d burned her. As if she were shocked that he was as solid as she suspected.

  “I work out a lot,” he explained lamely. “In between missions, I mean.”

  She leaned around him and then grabbed his arm when she had trouble righting herself again. “You have a lot of friends with you tonight.”

  He set a hand on her biceps to keep her from swaying. Did she often drink like this? “Yeah. My team and another. We’ve been on a few missions that caused us to cross paths lately.”

  “Where are you stationed now? Still in D.C.?”

  He shook his head. “No. We just got transferred here to Fort Hood actually. I’ve hardly unpacked. My last mission was in Kazarus protecting my buddy’s woman.”

  “Successful, I hope.” She lifted a brow.

  “Yes. Nori is Woof’s high school sweetheart in fact. We’re all relieved they’re reconnected.”

  Destiny nodded and whispered, “That’s so sweet.”

  He swallowed, wanting to kick himself. Life had not been as kind to Destiny. His brother had not returned to her. Obviously, it still hurt. As far as he knew, she’d never moved on. His mother kept up with her life through Destiny’s grandmother, and she always made a point of telling Trent the unwanted details when he was in town.

  He’d considered telling his mother to stop a long time ago but hadn’t wanted her to know how much it hurt. How it would be easier if he didn’t think about Destiny. How he’d loved her at least as much as Sean. Since not a single living soul ever knew that, he would carry his pain to the grave.

  Trent was probably out of his mind for cornering her like this at all.

  He’d told himself he wanted to end the awkwardness. But he knew that was a lie. He’d wanted to be close to her. Stand in her space. Inhale her scent. Touch her. Even if this was all he got for another five years, it was better than nothing. Better even than spending a whole night with a woman he barely knew.

  He might regret the decision, however, judging by the memories flooding his system. When she rocked from one foot to the other in a way she always did when she was nervous, his chest tightened. She kept tucking her hair behind her ears, too. It wasn’t as necessary today as it had been when they were kids, but she probably did it out of habit.

  “How’s your mom?” she asked, licking her lips.

  “She’s good. Dad’s retired now, so he’s driving her crazy with his projects around the house. I saw your grandmother yesterday in the yard. She looked well.” This was why he needed to fix things between them. He would never be able to escape her since his parents lived next door to her grandmother. Neither party seemed inclined to move, and all three were healthy and happy.

  “Yeah, she’s got a lot of energy. I don’t think she’s going to slow down anytime soon. Even though she’s my grandmother, she’s hardly older than your parents.”

  He nodded. Stella Fisher had her own daughter at a young age. And Dina, Destiny’s mother, had gotten pregnant at nineteen. When Dina disappeared and Destiny came to live with Stella, Destiny was five and Stella was only forty-three. The woman wasn’t even seventy yet, and she still seemed fifty to Trent.

  A waitress appeared next to them with a tray of colorful shots. “Can I interest either of you in a shot?”

  Destiny immediately grabbed a clear one. “Yes. Thank you.” She pointed toward her table. “Can you add it to my bill?”

  “Of course. Enjoy.” The woman wandered away.

  Trent watched as Destiny tipped her head back and downed the liquid. Her neck elongated, making him wish he could slide his fingers up and cup her face. He’d never get to do something like that in this lifetime, but he could dream.

  When she righted herself, she swayed again.

  “How many of those have you had?”

  She shrugged. “Lost count.”

  “Special occasion? I know it’s not your birthday.” He had that memorized for life, too.

  “Nope.”

  “Do you always drink like this?” Maybe she had a problem. Maybe she hadn’t been able to move on at all after Sean died. Trent hated that for her.

  “Nope.” She lifted her hand to shove at his chest. “Are you done interrogating me? I should get back to my friends.”

  He grabbed her forearms when it seemed she might fall into him, though half of him thought he should have simply let her collide with his chest. At least he would have gotten a chance to find out what she would feel like against his body.

  “I’d rather you look me in the eye and talk to me for a few minutes. We’ve been dancing around each other awkwardly for twelve years. I miss our friendship. I know my brother’s death was hard on you. It was hard on me, too. I miss him every day. Can’t we talk about it instead of ignoring it?” He had no idea why he was pushing her. This was probably a bad idea, especially since she’d done several shots.

  She stiffened, grabbed his shirt, and tipped her head back to look him in the eye. “No, we can’t fucking talk about it.” She shook her head, which made her tilt to one side again.

  He grabbed her waist and held her upright. She was drunk, but her tone shocked him. “Why not?”

  She glared at him. “Are you really that dense?”

  Apparently, but he didn’t get a chance to respond because she kept talking. Her words came out so fast that he could only stare at her with his mouth hanging open.

  “Don’t you get it? I can’t be around you.” She shook her head hard. “Ever. Not ever again. It hurts to even look at you.” Her eyes brimmed with tears.

  Trent couldn’t breathe. He’d been right. She missed his brother so much that she couldn’t face Trent.

  “I was in love with you, Trent. I was in love with you, and you never knew it. I fucked up my entire life when I agreed to marry your brother. I never should have gone out with him on that first fucking date. It was you I wanted.” Her voice was cracking and loud, but the bar was too noisy for anyone to hear her.

  Trent sucked in a sharp breath. He couldn’t process her words. His brain wouldn’t keep up.

  She didn’t stop talking, her words spilling out with alarming clarity as if she were no longer under the influence of several shots. “Sean was so nice and so sweet and I knew how much he liked me. So, I said yes when he first asked me out. And I kept saying yes f
or months. And we kept dating. And you stopped talking to me and hardly looked at me. And everything changed between us. And I missed you so much it hurt. And I wanted you to see me. And you didn’t. And then your brother asked me to marry him before he left for boot camp, and I was stupid and said yes because I knew it was expected of me.

  “Your mom was so in love with the idea of me marrying Sean that she never stopped grinning. I think she had china patterns picked out before he asked me. And you didn’t want me. So, I thought I should just do it. But it hurt. It ruined everything. The three of us were inseparable for thirteen years and then boom. It was over. And I had been feeling differently about you for over a year by then. And you didn’t feel the same. And I didn’t know what to do. And I made bad choices. And I have to live with them.”

  Trent swallowed hard. My God. Oh my God.

  Her small fingers fisted in his T-shirt and she shook him. Tears gleamed at the corners of her eyes. Her voice was hoarse and filled with emotion. “And now the entire damn town feels sorry for me. For the poor girl whose heart was broken when her high school sweetheart went off to war and was killed before we made it to the altar.” She gave a sardonic laugh and continued. “If they only knew how many other things we didn’t do before he died.”

  Fuck.

  “So, no. We can’t be friends, Trent. Not ever. And I can’t look you in the eye because frankly, I’m still half in love with you. And you don’t feel the same, and it hurts so badly that I can’t breathe when we’re in the same room. So, please. Let me go on with my stupid miserable life. If you see me again, turn the other way.” Those last words came out on a sob, the tears finally falling.

  She sagged against him now, her forehead on his chest.

  He wrapped his arms around her and held her tighter than he’d ever held another human in his life. Fuck me. He tried to process everything she’d just said, but it wasn’t possible. He needed hours. Days.

  Destiny hiccupped and then groaned, shoving him back. “I’m gonna puke.” She turned and rushed toward the restrooms.

  Trent followed her, staying right on her heels as she passed the line of people waiting, shoved the next person out of the way as someone left one of the three unisex bathrooms, and lunged for the toilet, reaching it just in time.

  Trent grabbed her hair and held it back, waiting while she emptied the contents of her stomach. It took a while, which didn’t surprise him considering how much she probably drank.

  “Is she okay?”

  Trent turned to find one of her friends squeezing into the small room. The door was standing wide open and several people waiting in line had backed up.

  “How much did she have before I approached?” Trent asked the blonde.

  “Several shots.” She grabbed a handful of paper towels, dipped them under the faucet, and handed them to Trent as if he were in charge of this disaster. And she was not wrong. He was. In a perfect world, he would be in charge of everything that related to Destiny for the rest of his life.

  He was still processing everything she’d told him, but he knew one thing for sure—she was not alone. And he needed to make sure she got that through her head.

  He crouched beside her and wiped her face with the wet paper towels. She moaned as she slowly stood and met his gaze for a moment. “Shit,” she muttered.

  The blonde spoke again. He tried to remember what her name was. Christa maybe. He hadn’t been paying close attention to all their names when they’d been introduced. “We have a hotel room. I’ll tell the girls we need to leave.”

  He shook his head. “No. You stay. Enjoy yourselves. I’ll take her to my place. Let her sleep it off.”

  Christa held his gaze, chewing on her bottom lip, considering his words. “I don’t think she would like that.”

  He chuckled as Destiny leaned into him, grabbing his waist to remain upright. “I’m certain you’re right, but it’s the right thing to do. And we need to talk. Des and I. It would seem we should have done so years ago. We’ve both been living in separate Mansions of Misery.” He had little doubt her posse was well aware of how Destiny felt about him, especially judging by the look of hesitation on her friend’s face. “Don’t worry. I won’t touch her. I’ll fill her with ibuprofen and water and put her to bed. I’m not an asshole.”

  Christa nodded. “Okay. You’re sure?”

  “Positive.” For once in his life, he was certain of something when it came to Destiny.

  Christa backed out of the small bathroom.

  Trent followed, holding Destiny to his side. He led her back to the table and accepted the purse one of her other friends held out. They were all staring at him with hope in their eyes. Yes, they knew. Apparently, he was the only fool in the vicinity who had not known Destiny was into him.

  When he turned around, he was faced with several of his team members. He’d practically forgotten who he’d come with. Thank God he’d driven himself.

  “Zip?” Merlin looked concerned as he addressed Trent by his nickname. He was the oldest of their team, but only by a year. Nevertheless, they all looked to him as their unofficial leader.

  “Rescuing damsels in distress?” Woof asked in a teasing voice.

  “Something like that,” he murmured.

  “Where are you going?” Jangles asked, his blue eyes filled with concern. Trent was a little surprised he was even standing with the other guys instead of flirting with the bartender, Hope. Seemed like that was all he did lately when they came to the Ugly Mug.

  “My apartment. She needs to sleep this off.”

  Duff stepped to her other side and helped Trent make his way toward the door. “Know her?”

  “Yes. Since we were small kids.” Trent supported her as best he could, but she staggered all the way to the door. Totally out of it.

  “Ah, okay.” Duff opened the door and held it. “Careful. Text if you need anything.” That handful of words was the most Duff had said all night.

  “Will do. Tell the guys I said goodbye.” He’d hardly had a chance to speak to most of them. Lefty disappeared the second Kinley showed up, and the rest of his team had spent the next fifteen minutes high-fiving each other. Trent would see them all frequently now that his team was in Fort Hood. Within no time, they would be reacquainted.

  Right now, he needed to focus on Destiny. Until he had her tucked into bed, he wouldn’t let himself ponder everything she had just revealed. He couldn’t. If he did, he would drive off the road.

  Chapter 3

  Destiny moaned as she turned onto her side and drew her arm over her eyes. Why was her bedroom so bright? She never left the blinds open when she went to bed.

  Her head pounded as she tried to recall if she’d had a bit too much to drink last night. Her memory started coming back. She’d gone out with the girls last night. They were in Killeen for the weekend. They had a hotel room. She’d done some tequila shots…

  She inhaled slowly. The masculine scent that assaulted her nose, however familiar, did not belong on her pillow. She froze.

  Please tell me I didn’t hook up with a stranger. She sniffed the pillow again. Or worse…

  Trent.

  Oh shit.

  Right. She’d run into Trent.

  Wait…

  Oh no. Oh no oh no oh no. She bolted to sitting, gasping for oxygen. As she glanced around, she recognized nothing, but she knew exactly where she was. She could smell Trent everywhere. This was his bedroom.

  She groaned out loud before she could stop herself and then jerked her gaze toward the door, fearing he might have heard her. “Shit,” she muttered as she swung her legs over the side of the bed. There was a glass of water and two pills on the bedside table. Of course there was. Trent always thought of everything.

  She shook that thought from her mind. It wasn’t true. At least it hadn’t been when they were younger. Sean thought of everything. He was meticulous and serious and planned every detail. Trent was more laid back. He preferred to wing it.

  But Sea
n wasn’t here. Trent was. And he’d left her ibuprofen.

  Destiny quickly swallowed the pills and downed the water, feeling much better after getting the fluids in her. She quietly eased herself up until she stood on slightly shaky legs, taking note of the fact that she was still wearing her dress and her shoes were next to the bed.

  As she padded gingerly toward the attached bathroom, she cringed. Had she slept with Trent? That would be a disaster. She looked back over her shoulder and noticed the other side of his bed didn’t look like it had been slept in. That was a good sign. Wasn’t it?

  She used the toilet and then winced as she met her gaze in the mirror. Her hair was a curly mess sticking out all over. Her mascara was smudged. Her cheeks looked gaunt. She quickly washed her face, clearing the makeup away as best she could with splashes of water, and then used the new toothbrush she found on the counter.

  Already she felt better, but she still had to face Trent. Taking a deep breath, she padded from the room and into the hallway, discovering that to her immediate right was a living room and kitchen area. Trent was sitting on the couch staring at his phone, but he lifted his gaze when she entered.

  For a moment they stared at each other, and then he smiled slightly and cleared his throat. “How do you feel?”

  She tipped her face toward the floor and rubbed the bridge of her nose with two fingers. “Like I drank too much and said some things.” Shit. I said a lot of things, didn’t I? She searched her brain, trying to remember everything she’d blurted out. It was hazy, but she knew it was bad.

  “You did indeed drink too much, but lucky for you, vomiting at the bar and then twice when we got back here probably saved you from a horrific hangover.” He rose to his feet. “As for saying some things, you definitely did.”

  For a moment, she thought he was going to approach her, but instead, he headed for the kitchen. “I’ll pour you some juice and make you some breakfast. Come. Sit at the table.” He pointed to his small kitchen table next to the passthrough galley kitchen.