Laws of Attraction

by RC Boldt

  Watching the tic on the side of Foster’s jaw work, she sat, waiting, waiting, waiting …

  “She looked fine,” Foster gritted out, maintaining the stare down with Kane.

  The Texan scoffed. “Now, now. That didn’t sound like a compliment. You have to say it like this, ‘She looked fiiiiiiiine.’” He gave a firm nod. “That’s how you say it properly.”

  “How did this conversation go from needing coffee in the office to complimenting me properly?” Noelle spoke in a loud whisper, directing the question to her.

  “Hell if I know,” she answered out the corner of her mouth.

  “Hey, I know,” Kane piped up enthusiastically. “We should talk about the story I heard about the time you watched Love Actually and got teary-ey—”

  “Windham,” their boss growled. “Enough.” Rising from his desk, he shoved in his chair none too gently. “I’ll go to the store and get the damn coffee.”

  “Oh! Can you pick up some of the organic agave, too? Miller and I use that.” Foster froze at Noelle’s question, turning to the office manager just as she was bending over in her chair, reaching down to pick up the pen she’d just dropped.

  Those whiskey-colored eyes of his traveled over their office manager’s form before jerking away, darting up, guiltily meeting hers. Cocking an eyebrow in question, he gave her a dark glare that probably would’ve had anyone else shaking in their shoes.

  Her gaze darted over to see Kane grinning like the cat that ate the canary, winking at her knowingly.

  “I don’t know which damn agave is which.” Their boss’ tone held exasperation.

  Noelle huffed out a loud breath. “Fine, I’ll come with you. Otherwise, you’ll end up getting some other crap that’s laced with nasty chemicals.”

  Rolling his eyes, he started out the door, tossing a warning over his shoulder. “No complaints about my driving.”

  “As if I’d even know where to begin in complaining about your shitty driving,” muttered Noelle as she trailed after him, shutting the door behind them, leaving her and Kane in the now quiet office.

  Kane’s eyes met hers, dancing with merriment. “Those two just need to go at it already.”

  Shaking her head, she grinned. “It’ll happen, I’m sure.”

  “It’s bound to be hot, angry sex when it finally happens.” Turning back to face his computer and paperwork, he muttered, “Now, that’s some sexual tension if I’ve ever witnessed it.” When she chuckled, it clearly encouraged him. “It’ll end up like the movie, Mr. and Mrs. Smith, where they’re trying to kill each other one minute and the next is like, bam!, all over each other like white on rice.”

  “Kane, you’re something else.”

  “I know, darlin’.” He grinned proudly. “I know.”

  As she and Kane returned to their work in companionable silence, she couldn’t help but reflect upon how much her current workplace—the work environment in itself—contrasted with her former one. Sure, she missed the adrenaline rush that went hand-in-hand with being a pararescueman. What she didn’t miss, however, was the constant feeling—the continuous knowledge—that her coworkers didn’t want her amongst them, didn’t think she’d truly earned her way to their rank.

  Working for Foster Kavanaugh, she had what she’d always wanted, what she’d initially hoped for entering the Air Force’s Special Ops rankings: brotherhood.

  Upon being employed by him, she’d been immediately accepted—welcomed with open arms, no less. And she knew without a shadow of a doubt that these individuals would do anything for her, as well as anything for one other. Even with the odd dynamic between Foster and Noelle, she knew that if something happened, Foster would be there to help their office manager in a heartbeat. That was just what these people did. Without a second thought. It was ingrained in them, the desire to help one another in times in need.

  And that special brand of harassment they all dished out to one another had one ingredient in it that was easily recognizable: affection. Because, although she might work alongside some serious badasses—former Navy SEALs and a Green Beret—they loved one another.

  And now that she was amongst them, she knew that she was included. And, for the very first time she felt something unique. Something so potent, so powerful, something she’d always wanted and never managed to achieve.

  A sense of belonging.

  C

  HAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  Langley

  Seventh Deployment

  Kandahar, Afghanistan

  We’d just returned from rescuing two wounded men from where they were stationed at a remote base just outside of Kandahar City, one of which was a Cat-Alpha having sustained a gunshot wound to the head. I’d prepped the hypertonic saline which would help to relieve the pressure on the patient’s brain from the wound.

  We were able to get both injured men to the NATO hospital within the “Golden Hour” which was the window of time we had to work with where the odds of them surviving were far better. If it took more than an hour to transport them, the outlook was usually not good.

  Back on base, cleaning the helo from all the blood and God knows what else, we all needed showers—badly. I had blood all over the front of me since head wounds were always worse to deal with. Whoever had attempted to patch the guy up prior to us getting there had done their best, but when I was prepping him in-flight, I’d had to redress his wounds and try to stop the bleeding.

  I was weary. Weary from the day’s activities, weary from being deployed to the same place repeatedly even though I knew it was because we were needed. I think the day—days—had simply begun to take their toll on me.

  “What are you plans for later?” Brent had been walking by my side on our way back to our building where we all bunked. We were off shift now, the other guys taking over for the next twelve hours. I was ready for a shower and some major shut-eye.

  “I’m about to fall over.” I let loose a jaw-cracking yawn without meaning to, which further emphasized my answer.

  “You aren’t in the mood for …” Brent trailed off suggestively and I just gave him a look.

  “Dude,” I mumbled, “I’m so tired I’m about to fall asleep as we walk.”

  “You don’t necessarily have to be awake for it.”

  That certainly got my attention. Head swiveling to stare at him in disbelief, I made a face. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

  “Whatever.” His tone was dismissive and he sped up his pace, tossing a wave without looking back. “Later, Ford.”

  What the hell? I thought to myself. That’s the guy I’m dating?

  Well, dating might be putting it on too thick. What we were doing out here wasn’t really dating, per se. But it was a relationship of some sort. At least, that’s how I saw it. We’d been together—and sleeping together—for a while now.

  We’ve been called out on mission after mission, rescuing dozens of injured and some who died in transit. Maybe he’s just out of it, another inner voice protested.

  I couldn’t help but wonder, though, where the sweet version of Brent had gone to lately—the one who’d tell me I was beautiful and smart.

  Slowly but surely, it seemed like he was slipping further and further away.

  * * *

  He had it bad.

  Like bad, bad, baaaaaaad. He was chomping at the bit like he’d just mainlined pure sugar, antsy to see Lee once she got off work for the day.

  It wasn’t as if he’d been sitting around on his ass all day, either. Now that school was out for the summer, he’d offered up more classes at the gym which members had responded well to. That kept him busy, mainly during the day, aside from the occasional evening class he offered on Wednesdays and Thursdays.

  It was Friday, he’d finished his classes for the day, had showered, and was amped up and ready to see Lee once she was home from work. He knew she wasn’t on call this weekend as she’d mentioned Kane would be the designated contact person in case something came up at one of their contracted si
tes. She’d also insisted on spending the night at her place, saying that she hadn’t been there in so long it was getting ridiculously dusty, complaining about having to clean out her refrigerator of all the crap she’d not eaten. Because she’d been spending so much time at his place.

  Honestly, it felt as though she’d all but moved in with him, and it had been freaking awesome. And not just because of the sex. Sure, that was a bonus, but coming home to her, waking up to her … He wasn’t sure it could get much better than that.

  He was bringing over some ice cream since she’d mentioned she’d been craving it since her “ovaries were angry”—i.e. she was on her period. This was the first time she’d actually informed him of something like this so he was curious to find out if she was a moody PMS’er or not. Or if she liked extra cuddling.

  He knocked on her door, and was taken aback at the sight once she opened it. Because his Lee looked …

  “I know. I look like shit,” she grumbled before turning, waving him inside.

  She didn’t look like shit, of course. She just looked like she was uncomfortable as hell. Not like he knew the ins and outs of ovaries and menstruation—bleh, just the thought of those words brought on some crazy gross images—but he couldn’t imagine it was a walk in the park. According to Cosmo, women could experience bloating, cramps, salty or sweet cravings, and even small weight gain during that time of the month.

  Yeah, so he may have read that in an issue of the popular magazine while waiting at the doctor’s office. That had been extremely informative. Especially when he read on to the next article, the bit about fun sex positions. Oh, yeeeeaaaahhhh. But, he was getting off track. The point was, his Lee was uncomfortable yettttttttt she still allowed him to come over.

  Because she wanted him there. Just that thought, that fact alone, had him grinning like a fool.

  He approached her in the small kitchen area as she was reaching into a drawer, likely for a spoon to eat her ice cream. Setting the container down on the tiny counter space, he pulled off the lid and began to reach in the cabinet for a bowl before stopping abruptly.

  His eyes met hers. “It’s an out of the container kind of day?”

  With a tight smile, she nodded. “Definitely.” Spoon in one hand, she reached for the container just as he moved the ice cream out of her reach.

  When her eyes met his in question, he leaned closer, turning his cheek her way. “I get a small reward, right?”

  There was a pause before she placed her lips against his cheek in a brief kiss. “Thanks, Laws.”

  “Any time.”

  As they took their seats outside on the small deck, he sat down in a chair before pulling her onto his lap, careful not to dislodge the ice cream from her grasp.

  Her eyes darted to his in surprise. “What are you doing?”

  “Cuddling. Surely you’ve heard of it?” Pressing a kiss to his fingertips, he touched them to her lower abdomen. “There, now you should feel better soon.”

  “And that was?”

  “Lee.” He gave a slightly exasperated sounding laugh. “Kissing your boo-boo and making it feel better. Duh.”

  When she continued to stare at him, dumbfounded, he started to become uncomfortable. Finally, when she spoke, her voice sounded tiny, fragile. “I’ve never had anyone do that before.” She concentrated on scooping ice cream on her spoon, avoiding his gaze.

  Reaching for the spoon, he fed her the ice cream, waiting for her to meet his gaze. “I’ll kiss all of your hurts away, Lee. Always.”

  * * *

  She was going to cry.

  Her, Langley Ford, badass former combat pararescue jumper. The same person who’d endured shit-talking, harassment, and even bullying from some of the most intimidating men around and it hadn’t fazed her.

  But this man, Lawson Briggs … he was like the broken heart whisperer or something. It seemed like he was the one person who could possibly patch up her war-torn heart. Every time she turned around, it was as if he’d tapped into his arsenal of sorts, finding a way to start healing her heart, to pump a little more life back into it.

  It was then that she knew, that she could confirm without any doubt, that this man was the one. The one she wanted to have by her side, the one she knew could always be counted on to be in her corner, defending her. The one man who was deserving of her love, who was truly deserving of her heart.

  But the nagging thought remained: was she deserving of his?

  C

  HAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  The unspeakable law #1: As soon as you mention something good, it goes away.

  Langley’s take: I’m having a really hard time with this. I don’t want to jinx this thing with Lawson but it’s hard when you’ve got women practically prying information out of you. But, deep down, I’m scared shitless this will go away—that Lawson will go away …

  ~

  “HEY, Y’ALL! I’VE ARRIVED. TIME to get this party started,” Kane called out, walking out onto the back deck of Mac and Raine’s home with his guitar case in hand. Setting it down nearby where he, Doc, and Miller were already seated, tuning up their own guitars, he glanced up with a smirk.

  “Stealing my lines, I see.”

  “Now, now. Laws, darlin’, you should know a Green Beret steals nothing but hearts of the ladies and lives of the enemy.”

  Miller looked at Kane, eyes alit with amusement. “You read that somewhere, didn’t you?”

  Kane grinned. “Saw it on Pinterest.”

  He reached out for a fist bump. “Dude, Pinterest rocks. I’ve found a bunch of cool stuff on there for my lessons.”

  “See?” Kane directed a meaningful glance toward Miller. “Pinterest rocks.”

  “Yeah, but he’s,” Doc chimed in, gesturing to Lawson, “looking for ideas for his lessons at school whereas you’re …” He trailed off.

  “Looking for stellar quotes to knock the socks—and maybe panties—off of women?” Kane supplied, cheekily.

  “You ladies talking about Pinterest?”

  Lee approached them and he was unable to stop his lips from stretching into a wide grin. A sappy grin. He knew it, but hell if he cared. She’d tied up her dark hair in a messy top knot ponytail thing due to the breeze coming off the nearby ocean, bringing attention to her high cheekbones. The strands which had escaped, tousled by the wind, made his fingers itch to tuck them back behind her ear. To just touch her.

  “Hells yeah, we’re talking about Pinterest. How do you think I got you to go out with me?” He gave her a sly wink.

  “By strong-arming your way into my life,” came her immediate, dry response.

  Scowling, he furrowed his brows. “As if.” Grinning wide, looking pleased with himself, he added, “I wooed you with my perseverance and sweetness … all thanks to those Pinterest boards on ‘How To Woo A Strong, Badass, Ridiculously Stubborn Woman’.”

  “They actually have stuff for that on there?” She looked at him curiously.

  “Now, they do.” His smile was smug.

  “Who invited her again?” Foster’s voice broke up their conversation, his loud muttering drawing their attention.

  Ah, there was the object of Foster’s dismay. Noelle Davis had arrived, stepping out onto the deck, joining their gathering that Friday evening.

  Everyone had decided on a low-key night at Mac and Raine’s beach house since the July weather was absolute perfection. They’d planned on playing some songs on their guitars and just hanging out.

  “Oh, joy. The Sith Lord is here. Super.” Noelle eyed Foster before turning away to join the other women gathered over by the table of food. As she turned, though, he watched as the other man’s eyes tracked her movement and, hell if his eyes didn’t sweep over her form, lingering ever so slightly on his office manager’s ass.

  Huh.

  Foster turned back, snagging his own gaze, and if he were to go strictly by the scowl on his face as his eyes darted to the others beside him, he hadn’t been the only one who had caught the movement of
Foster’s eyes. Immediately, the former Navy SEAL gave them all a dark glare.

  Of course he, being Lawson Briggs, merely grinned back. He just loved pressing that big, alpha man’s buttons.

  Loved. It.

  “Y’all ready to get this party started?” Kane asked.

  “I was born ready,” he answered.

  The Texan began strumming the first chords to Justin Timberlake’s “Mirrors”, flashing a meaningful look at him. Kane had clearly chosen the song for Lee’s benefit, he thought as he began singing along, strumming his own guitar.

  And as he sang the lyrics about looking at the other half of him, about a vacancy in his heart that was now taken, his eyes tracked across the room to where Lee now stood with the other women. Raine was speaking animatedly, and as if feeling the weight of his gaze, Lee’s eyes met his own and the rest of the surroundings melted away.

  Seeming to recognize the emotion behind the lyrics, she held his gaze and it was right there before his eyes that he saw the softening in her entire demeanor. Felt as though she somehow knew he was singing this song—these particular lyrics—to her.

  As they wrapped up the song, fading out, Miller called, “Hey, Noelle. Feel like helping us out for a minute?”

  He watched as the curvy blonde excused herself from the conversation taking place with the other women, making her way over to them. Doc snagged another chair, pulling it over to sit beside his own. Carefully setting his guitar to the side, the man picked up two egg shakers, handing Noelle one of them.

  “‘Some Kind of Wonderful’?” Miller suggested the song choice to Noelle. She nodded with a smile, taking a seat in the chair.

  Miller strummed the beginning chords of the song before he and Kane joined in on their guitars, starting off a slower version of the song before Noelle began singing, and whoa, that woman’s voice was something else. It wasn’t perfect as much as it was unique, with an attention-getting huskiness to it, reminding him of the singer, Joss Stone.