“The way you look at her, your feelings are written all over your face. And she’s exactly the same way. She deserves better than this.”
Danny pulled from his brother’s grasp and started for his apartment. “For once, you and I agree.”
Chapter Thirteen
GONE FOR A run.
She found the first note on the breakfast bar after she woke. Since it was part of his weekend routine, she didn’t think much of it. A second note, saying he’d headed out to get the oil changed in the truck, he left while she showered. Nearly half of the day had passed and she still hadn’t seen him.
Coward.
Bree grabbed the scrap of paper and channeled her frustrations by wadding it up into a little ball and throwing it at the trash can. Which missed, of course, because she never could play basketball worth a damn.
So what if kissing him wasn’t the brightest of ideas, but it wasn’t that big of a deal. They were adults. Who also happened to be married to each other. It’s not as if they did anything wrong. And even so, they should be able to talk it out. Apparently, avoidance really was his way of handling things.
Just great. Barely into week three of their marriage and things had already gone to hell in a handbasket.
Not wanting to sit in an empty apartment all day, Bree picked up her phone and sent a quick text. Instead of a reply, she got a knock on the front door a few minutes later. “Wow. Do you always come running when food is mentioned?”
“I’m a growing boy,” Michael said, smiling. “And eating with you sure as hell beats eating a PB&J all alone.”
“Something tells me you wouldn’t have to eat alone if you didn’t want to.”
“True. But too often the reward isn’t worth the effort.”
Michael had always been a straight shooter, but never lacked tact. “Are you saying women should put out just because you’ve bought us food?”
He scrubbed his face in frustration, a little growl escaping. “Good God, woman. Sometimes lunch is just lunch. And sex is just sex. Why do you women have to make everything so convoluted? I swear, it’s the women who have far more expectations than men.”
Now this was amusing. Bree folded her arms over her chest and reclined against the counter. “Enlighten me, please, Dr. Phil.”
Michael shook his head and mumbled something along the lines of “smart-ass” under his breath. “I know there are assholes out there who expect sex if they buy a woman dinner. But there’s just as many women who expect a long-term commitment if they put out.”
Hmmm. Couldn’t really argue with him on that point.
“My dad always said the key to any good relationship is open and honest communication.” Then Michael laughed. “Of course that’s never worked for me. Last woman I dated told me I was a little too honest.”
Bree smiled at that. “I shudder to think what you said to her.”
Even so, what she wouldn’t give for a little honesty from his brother right about now. She grabbed a pen from the bottom of her purse and scribbled a message for Danny on a notepad.
“So where do you want to go?”
“Anywhere but here.”
The smile left Michael’s face, instantly replaced with one of concern. “Want to talk about it?”
“Not really.”
Bree slung her handbag over her shoulder and headed for the door.
OUT TO LUNCH.
She left off the “with Michael” part. Of course he only knew that since he passed them on their way out and he was returning home. If he’d arrived home a few minutes earlier, would they have invited him to go with? Considering the conversation he’d had with his brother last night and the way he’d avoided Bree today, that was highly unlikely.
No point in moping around and waiting for them to return. Danny dusted off his riding gear, grabbed his mountain bike, and headed to a nearby park. Having the trail to himself gave him time to think, to figure out what the hell he should say to fix things with Bree. He needed to find a way to smooth things over so they could go back to living as roommates.
But deep down, he didn’t want that. If he were honest with himself—
Danny shook the thought from his head. Get married. Get well. Get a job. Get a divorce. That was Bree’s plan of action. Best stick to the plan. No good could come from someone going rogue and changing all the rules in midstream.
Carrying his bike over one shoulder, Danny climbed the stairs to his apartment. Both his and Mike’s trucks were in the parking lot, which meant Bree should be home and they could talk. Just as he arrived at his door, laughter erupted in his apartment. Before he made it all the way inside, they went silent.
Bree sat cross-legged on the couch while his brother kicked back in his recliner.
“Hey there,” he said, speaking directly to Bree. “Did you guys have a nice lunch?”
“Michael took me to this hole-in-the-wall with an honest-to-goodness low country boil, served on newspaper and everything.”
Great.
He narrowed his eyes at his brother, who was smiling behind his beer. Beer from Danny’s refrigerator. Michael knew damn well he’d just taken Bree out to eat at his absolute favorite place in all of Savannah without him. Asshole.
“Did you have a nice ride?” she asked.
“It was fine. If you don’t mind I’m gonna hit the shower.”
Since no objections were made, he stowed his bike in the spare bedroom and hit the bathroom. The moment he closed the door, their conversation started up again. He tried not to think about it. Two people who have known each other forever and are sitting in the same room would have reason to talk. Didn’t mean they were talking about him. Or their marriage. But the silence happened a second time after his shower, this time as he crossed the hall into the bedroom. They didn’t speak again until the door closed behind him.
So it wasn’t all in his imagination.
Danny held his breath, one ear pressed against the bedroom door as he strained to hear their conversation. The last time he eavesdropped on someone’s conversation he was in the middle school locker room, and the only reason he did it then was because he heard one of his friends mention Bree by name.
“Have you decided if you’re going to see a doctor here or go back to Columbia for your follow-ups?” Michael asked.
Danny could tell Bree was answering him, but her words were spoken so softly, so low, he couldn’t make out what she said. He had no idea her doctor was in Columbia. Had no idea that she’d have to do follow-up tests or scans or whatever else. It made sense once Mike mentioned it, but he’d never asked anything about her treatment. Danny had made a conscious effort not to. That first day in Myrtle Beach, Bree said she was tired of people always asking her about her cancer when all she wanted to do was put it behind her. So who was screwing up here? Him for not asking? Or his brother for prying?
Bree married him. Wore his ring on her hand. But he was clearly wrong to think that would mean Bree would talk about the important stuff with him.
ON MONDAY MORNING Danny waited for the last of his squad to come in. He pushed his sunglasses on top of his head and wiped the sweat from his eyes.
“What the hell has gotten into you?” Ben dropped his seventy-pound ruck on the grass and tried to catch his breath. “You know I’m all for busting these guys’ asses, but we’re not supposed to kill them. When you suggested a ruck march for morning PT, I didn’t think we’d be trying to set a goddamn record.”
“The pain reminds them—”
“Yeah, yeah. Fuck you. I’ve been doing this long enough to notice when someone’s head isn’t on straight.” Ben jabbed a finger into Danny’s face. “And your head isn’t on straight.”
Maybe he had a point.
Powered by anger and jealousy and a whole other list of emotions he didn’t want to think about, Danny chose a grueling exercise th
at should have exhausted him to the point he would forget the taste of her mouth, her skin. For his own sanity he needed to forget that kiss. How she tasted sweet like the cheap house wine she’d been drinking. How soft and warm and welcoming her body was as he pressed against her.
The sound of her laughter as she spent time with his brother.
Fuck. Right back where he started. In hell.
“So are you going to tell me what’s going on or do I need to beat it out of you?”
Danny took a hard look at Ben. That wasn’t a half-bad idea. A little hand-to-hand combat to burn off the excess adrenaline and testosterone coursing through his body.
Ben cracked the knuckles of his left hand. Then his right. That was when common sense came into play and Danny remembered how much this Jersey boy liked bringing the hammer. He didn’t look like much, six foot nothing, buck eighty-five. His looks were deceiving, especially when he was in family-man mode, but he’d personally seen Ben level guys twice his size and not even break a sweat.
“Jesus, no. Last thing I need is to be fighting with you, too.”
“Me, too? Are you fighting with Bree? What the hell are you two fighting about?”
“Not fighting, really. It’s just—” Danny scrubbed a hand over his face. “Shit, man. What the hell have I gotten myself into? I just never imagined.”
Ben laughed, caught his breath then laughed some more. Danny narrowed his eyes at him.
“What? You’re surprised that a fake marriage would end up as stressful as a real one? It’s pretty funny, if you ask me. Look at it this way,” he said, slapping a hand to Danny’s shoulder. “You went from being a very confirmed bachelor to a married man in the span of what, two, three days? You’ve never even lived with a woman, much less kept one around for more than a long weekend. And now you’re shocked to find out they can be moody as hell and you’ve got nowhere to run? Welcome to my world!”
Danny shook his head. “It’s not all her fault. If anything, I probably started it.” Ben gave him a look. One that told Danny he had zero problem beating down his ass for disrespecting a woman. “Okay, I did start it. And now I’ve got Mike all up in my business—”
Ben barked a laugh. “I should’ve known.”
“Why would you say that?”
“Because if there’s one thing everyone around here knows,” he said, his finger circling in the air, “it’s to keep a safe distance when the MacGregor brothers get into a pissing match. So what did he do now? Make a move on Bree?”
He gave Ben his signature “don’t fuck with me” face.
“Shit, man. I was only joking.”
“He didn’t make a move on her. Not that I know of, at least. But it’s like he’s her confidant. Anything to do with her cancer and stuff she talks to him about. She doesn’t tell me anything. She just shuts me completely out of one whole part of her life.”
“Have you asked her about it?”
“No.”
With the last of their men accounted for, Ben picked up his ruck and headed for the squad bay. “Then stop complaining,” he shouted over his shoulder while walking away.
“I didn’t want her to think I was hovering,” Danny said, trailing after him.
Ben stopped abruptly and turned to face him. “The problem is you want to be everything to her. Yet you keep saying this is only a temporary deal.”
“That’s pretty much the same thing Mike said.”
“As much as you really aren’t going to like hearing this, I have to agree with your brother. So which is it? What’s the status between you two relationship-wise? Have things stayed platonic or have you—”
White-hot anger coursed through him. “I swear to God,” Danny said, getting in Ben’s face, “if you ask me if I’ve fucked her, I’ll break your fucking neck.”
Ben held up his hands in surrender. “All I was going to ask was if you’ve had sex.” He dropped his hands and stalked toward Danny. “Let me tell you something, MacGregor. I know how to be respectful to women. Don’t forget I’ve been faithfully married to my wife since before I’ve known you, and you’re the one who’s been prancing around here for ten years like the cock of the walk.”
Danny felt he’d been sucker punched and it took a few seconds for what Ben said to sink in. “Cock of the walk? What the fuck does that even mean?” Danny began to laugh, with Ben joining him.
“Hell if I know. I think I’ve been in Georgia too damn long.” They went on their way to the squad bay. “Here’s what I do know. You can’t do anything about Bree right now. And to be honest, it’s probably a good thing we’re headed to Stewart for a few days. It’ll give you guys a cooling-off period. Just send her a text. Tell her you’re sorry. Do it before things get worse.”
“You think I should apologize? Via text?”
“Trust me on this, Danny. In this case, something is better than nothing.”
BEN WAS RIGHT.
He didn’t have his head on straight. He needed to apologize to Bree but wanted to take his time and find just the right words to say.
After a shower and breakfast, Charlie Co. loaded up their gear and headed south to Fort Stewart for a week’s worth of live fire exercises. For the hour-long ride he was lost in his thoughts, debating what kind of message he should send Bree. Some were too long. Some made him sound like a child. Others were too revealing.
Once they arrived, he lost himself in the repetitive training that required complete focus. Having a team member fresh from RASP meant his squad wouldn’t run like a well-oiled machine. Instead, he and the fire team leader worked with Jenkins demonstrating each movement like steps to a dance. Afterward, they moved to the shoot house, putting those steps into practice. Then they did it again and again and again, before finally loading their weapons with live ammo. That was when the real fun began as they blew doors off the hinges and peppered targets. Once darkness had fallen, they put on their night-vision goggles and did it all over again in a green-colored world.
Finally, around 0300, after the brass casings were gathered and targets put away, after his weapons were cleaned and oiled and ready for the next round of training, he crawled into his sleeping bag. With his body tired and mind cleared, he finally decided on what was the right thing to say. He took his phone from his ruck and typed out a quick message to Bree.
I’m sorry.
ON FRIDAY BREE opened the front door to a pile of Danny’s things on the floor. After kicking his boots and other gear out of the way, she closed the door behind her and carried the bags of groceries into the kitchen. Only once everything was put away did she realize the apartment was silent. No shower running. No music playing.
Was he here and avoiding her? Or had he just dropped his stuff and run?
They’d exchanged text messages throughout the week after she woke to find his two-word apology. Slowly but surely a conversation began and by this morning she believed things were resolved and the awkwardness was behind them. Which was why she decided to cook him a nice dinner. A peace offering of sorts.
She tiptoed down the hallway to the bedroom and found him sprawled across the bed. Sound asleep. Naked. The clean scent of his soap lingered in the air. She could only assume he’d taken a shower before yanking back the covers and collapsing face-first onto the mattress, resembling a starfish washed ashore. He didn’t even bother with a pillow as he lay in the middle of his huge bed, his body angled from corner to corner, with only the top sheet tangled around his legs.
Damn.
She’d never get used to how beautiful he’d become. From his sculpted shoulders to his defined back, to the turned muscles of his arms and legs displaying power and strength even while completely at rest.
Just as God intended.
In college she wouldn’t have thought twice about joining him on that bed. Running her tongue the length of his spine, starting between those two dimples
low on his back and working her way up to his neck. But she wasn’t that girl anymore, although there were plenty of times she wished to see her in the mirror again, if only for a day.
Bree closed the bedroom door, leaving him to catch up on some much-needed rest.
A couple hours later he emerged, sneaking up behind her as she worked in the kitchen.
“Something smells good.”
She jumped involuntarily.
“Are you hungry?” Bree covered the sauce pot and turned to face him, nearly swallowing her tongue in the process.
He had dressed, kind of. Flannel pants hung low on his hips. An unzipped hoodie revealed a sculpted chest she’d imagined but not seen until this very moment. Stubble shadowed his jaw and a line creased his cheek. If he hadn’t shaved off most of his hair, he surely would have been rocking the sexy, rumpled look. Her gaze drifted to the hollow of his throat, his collarbones. She wanted to press her face against the tender spot where his shoulder and neck met and breathe deep, knowing that was where he always, always smelled the best. Of course her hands would need something to do. Like smoothing over the ridges and valleys before following the light dusting of hair that bisected his abdomen, circled his belly button and disappeared beneath the waistband of his pants.
“Do I need to change into something else?”
“Hmmm?” Her head snapped up to see the amusement in his eyes and smirk on his face.
He chuckled softly as he moved toward their small dining table.
The heated rush of embarrassment quickly followed. The oven buzzed, thankfully saving her from herself. She popped garlic bread in the oven and dropped the pasta in the boiling water. Hopefully, the heat and steam would disguise her flush. She stirred the pasta with vigor, but froze the moment the shuffle of papers registered in her head.
Shit. She’d pulled them out only to see how long she had until her next checkup. The last thing she wanted was for Danny to get an in-depth look at them. Because once he knew everything about her treatment, he wouldn’t look at her in the same way ever again.
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