Brothers in Blue: Matt

by Jeanne St. James

  If only it was that easy.

  He walked out of the house, passing Leah, his fellow officer and future sister-in-law, on her way up the porch steps.

  “Where are you headed?” she asked him. She wore her uniform since she currently worked the second shift.

  “Anywhere other than here.”

  “You don’t want to hang out with the fam?” Leah asked, though her eyes crinkled at the corner, fighting a knowing smile.

  Leah, out of everyone, understood him the best. Though he wasn’t sure why. He hardly knew her. He only met Marc’s live-in fiancé about six months ago when he was discharged from the Marines and reluctantly came home.

  They just seemed to fall into a natural camaraderie. Her father had been a cop down in Philly who ended up killed on the job and she wanted to follow in his footsteps. She was one determined woman and Matt respected that about her.

  They had ridden double a few times when he returned to patrol while trying to get back on track. And the more he got to know her, the more he liked her. Lucky for his brother Matt had been away, or he would have seriously considered giving Marc a run for his money.

  “Nah. I’m beat.”

  Leah only nodded her head, whacked him hard on the arm, then jogged up the steps and into the house.

  Matt sighed and headed toward his 4Runner.

  “Wait!”

  He stopped short, but didn’t turn around. He listened to her footsteps as she rushed up behind him. He worked hard to keep his muscles from stiffening as Carly approached.

  She is not a threat. She is not the enemy. He repeated the mantra in his head until his heartbeat slowed.

  She stepped in front of him, blocking the driver’s door. “Can you give me a ride home?”

  “You don’t live here now? I dropped you off two days ago and you’re still here. I thought maybe you moved in.”

  Her expression closed down and she pinned her lips together. “Never mind.” She brushed past him, purposely bumping his shoulder hard with hers.

  He snagged her arm and swung her back around to face him. “Where are you going?”

  “Back in the house where I’m sure someone will be nice enough to take me home.”

  He searched her face, then worked his way down her body. Her breasts heaved from anger. Her waist looked tiny compared to her full, flaring hips.

  “Done?”

  He lifted his gaze to meet hers. “With?”

  “Checking out my tits.”

  He released her and stepped over to his SUV. “Get in if you want a ride. If you’re not in the seat by the time I put it in first gear, you’re shit-out-of-luck.”

  “I’m not that desperate,” she said from behind him.

  “I’m sure you’re not,” he replied to the driver’s door. Then he yanked it open with more force than necessary, and climbed in.

  He started his truck, not checking to see if she moved, and shoved it into first gear. He released the clutch and pulled away.

  Fuck it. He would only offer a ride once.

  Even so, he couldn’t help put glance in the rearview mirror. She stood stock still, her head held high, her long hair loose around her shoulders, her hands on her hips, and he felt sure-as-shit certain she glared at him from behind those goofy turquoise-colored framed glasses.

  He wanted to rip those glasses off, drag his hands through her thick hair, and fuck the shit out of her.

  He slammed on the brakes, the Toyota skidding to a stop on the stones.

  Jamming it in reverse, he popped the clutch, and smashed the gas pedal, fishtailing it backward to where she stood.

  She still hadn’t moved and just glared at him through stubborn, narrow eyes.

  He powered down the window. “Get the fuck in the truck.”

  Finally, she moved and surprised him by going around the SUV to climb into the passenger seat. He stared as hard at her as she stared straight out of the front windshield. “Put your seatbelt on.”

  Without a word, she did. Though he couldn’t help notice her jaw tighten and her mouth become a tight, angry slash.

  He smiled.

  Fucking hell.

  He might have just met the woman of his dreams.

  She didn’t know why the angry asshole sitting next to her made her want to fuck his brains out.

  Yet something pulled at her.

  Maybe it was the challenge.

  Or the fact she hadn’t had sex in…hell, forever.

  Maybe she needed a night of angry sex to relieve some of the stress of being an overworked OB/GYN at a small hospital.

  Maybe she just needed a few explosive orgasms to help her forget about all the debt she had. All the responsibilities.

  She peeked out of the corner of her eye at him. Officer Asshole had a shit-eating grin on his face. Surely, it wouldn’t take much to wipe it off.

  “Where are you heading?” she asked.

  “Taking you home.”

  “Take me to your place.”

  His head snapped in her direction and the truck swerved when he jerked the wheel. He straightened it out and concentrated back on the road. “What?”

  Yep. Now he wore a frown instead of that cocky grin.

  “Take. Me. To. Your. Place.” The words were distinct and forceful. She wanted to make sure he knew she wouldn’t take no for an answer.

  “Why?” he asked, the suspicion thick in his voice.

  “Really?”

  “I want to make sure I’m not hallucinating,” he said.

  “To fuck me into oblivion.”

  His eyebrows rose, but he kept his eyes on the road. “What if I suck at sex?”

  “You won’t.” She smirked. “Assholes are always good in bed.”

  His brows crept even higher. “Sounds like you know from experience.”

  “I do.” Unfortunately, it was the truth.

  “Maybe I can’t get it up.”

  Carly looked at his lap. The distinct bulge in his jeans kind of shot that lie to bits. “Assholes can always get it up.”

  With a cocked eyebrow, he asked, “You have a thing for assholes?”

  “I must.”

  A low chuckle rumbled out of him.

  He didn’t stop the truck; he didn’t turn around. Nothing. She guessed he didn’t believe her. She returned to staring out of the window. That’s when she realized he had never been heading to the boarding house. He drove through town instead of out of it.

  “I thought you were taking me home,” she mumbled, reading the passing street signs.

  “I am,” he said. And the shit-eating grin returned. “To mine.”

  Well, damn. “You had the same idea,” she stated, because it wasn’t a question. He clearly had the idea not to take her home from the beginning.

  Arrogant asshole.

  “Nope.”

  She turned to look at him. “So, why are you taking me to your place?”

  “Because I can’t stand the thought of you staying one more night in that roach-infested, crime-ridden boarding house.”

  “Since when did you become my keeper?” And why would he even care? They were strangers. They had no connection other than her being his sister-in-law’s OB/GYN.

  “Since I rescued your ass along the road and I saw your address.”

  “Is that the reason you dropped me off at your parents?” She never even considered it could be anything other than him thinking she had a concussion. Now she wondered.

  “Why do you ask so many questions?”

  “Because I need answers.”

  “And I need quiet,” he grumbled.

  Carly shut up and faced forward, biting her tongue. He made a turn onto a street that she didn’t catch the name of, and then pulled into the driveway of a small house. It appeared older, though well-maintained. The name Barber was painted on the mailbox.

  “I thought this was your house.”

  “It is and it isn’t.”

  “What the hell does that mean?”

  H
e shoved the shifter into first gear and pulled up the emergency brake handle before turning the SUV off. After unbuckling his seatbelt, he turned towards her. “It’s Amanda’s old place. She moved in with Max a couple years ago and it’s been empty. I crash here.”

  “So why did you bring me here if not to have sex?”

  “Oh, I didn’t say we weren’t having sex, especially since you offered. But I brought you here because there’s plenty of space. And instead of renting a room in that dump, you can rent one here.”

  “Oh, I see. You’re suddenly making my life decisions for me.”

  “Yep.”

  Carly couldn’t help but laugh. “You really are an asshole.”

  “I’m not arguing that fact.”

  “I’d think you’d want your privacy,” she stated.

  “I’ll have it, don’t worry.”

  That comment made her wonder about this whole thing. “So, I’m just supposed to go along with your decision and move in with some stranger who, by the way, is a man.”

  “I’m a hell of a lot safer than any of those people living in that boarding house.”

  “Says who? You?” She snorted. “Are you your own best reference?”

  “Nope. My mother is.”

  Once again she laughed. He wasn’t even trying to be funny. He appeared dead serious.

  She pinched the skin on her arm to make sure she was awake and not having some bizarre dream. She studied his face. He had an extremely strong jawline, however, it appeared tight, as if it held tension. He wore his dark hair in a severely short crew cut of sorts with it shaved along the sides. His eyes though…such a light blue, almost a crystal blue. Normally, she’d think they were striking. However, something hid behind them. Shadows, or secrets. Or hell, she didn’t know what. Yet, it worried her.

  He looked exactly like his two older brothers…and his father, only younger. They were all carbon copies of each other. Though something seemed different about Matt. Off. Besides him being a blatant asshole.

  Hot? Definitely, but…hollow.

  “Did I pass inspection?” he asked her.

  “I’m not sure yet.”

  “Too late. You already demanded that I fuck you. So no take-backs.”

  “Yeah, that won’t be a disaster,” she said, sarcastically.

  “It’ll be a beautiful disaster.”

  “Right.”

  “Having second thoughts?”

  “About the sex? No. About this scheme of me moving into your house? Absolutely.” She bit her bottom lip. “I don’t even have my stuff. And we didn’t discuss rent. Nor did I even get to see the inside yet.”

  Yes, the boarding house was a horrible choice. No doubt about it. However, it was cheap and she didn’t have the money to live elsewhere at the moment. She worried when she slept at night, so she kept her door locked and a dresser blocking it, as well as a steak knife under her pillow. Then again, in her situation she couldn’t afford to move to a nicer place. She couldn’t even afford a place with her own private bathroom. And with not trusting the locks on the shared boarding house’s bathroom door, she always showered at the hospital.

  Studying the house in front of her, she asked, “How much a month?”

  “We’ll negotiate the rent.”

  She glanced at him. “Seriously though. I can’t afford much.”

  “You’re a doctor,” he said, not hiding the disbelief in his voice.

  She sighed. Right. Everyone thought doctors were rich. It was the farthest thing from the truth since she was saddled with huge school loans and elderly parents who needed constant financial help. Not to mention, she was trying to put some money away in savings…

  But he didn’t need to know all that.

  You do what?” she asked him in shock, staring at an extremely large khaki-colored tent planted in the middle of the backyard. Not a Boy Scout’s tent, no. This was a full-sized military-type canvas tent. Similar to the kind seen in some war movies.

  “I live in here, so you’ll have plenty of privacy and personal space. I only come in to use the bathroom and the kitchen.”

  “Why the hell wouldn’t you sleep in one of the bedrooms?”

  He ignored the question.

  The over-sized tent had to be ten times the size of her room at the boarding house. For a second, she actually considered buying a tent like this for her own. She’d just need to find an empty lot or field somewhere to stake it out in.

  Shaking her head, she cleared it of the ridiculous thought.

  Though dying to see the inside set-up, it was all closed up and he made no move to invite her inside.

  “Are you going to be living in that thing come winter?” The winters were harsh up here in northern Pennsylvania. The area could have some storms that were no joke. That’s why she drove an SUV. Or used to, anyway.

  She’d need to buy another one. Damn it. She hoped her insurance covered most of the replacement cost. Otherwise, there went the little savings she had. In the meantime, she needed a vehicle for work, so she’d have to get a rental until they settled the claim.

  “I’m not sure where I’ll be come winter,” he muttered.

  What? Oh yeah. The tent. Winter. Cold. Snow.

  They walked back into the house through a large sunroom that looked super inviting. She could see herself curled up on the couch with a cup of tea, reading a book.

  He led her through an updated and modern kitchen. And then up narrow stairs to the second floor. The steps complained under his weight.

  She regarded his ass as he climbed; it appeared well-muscled like the rest of him. The snug black T-shirt he wore accented his cut arms and made it easy to see that his chest and back were built too. The man worked out. No doubt about it.

  She bet his thighs were strong, and she hoped his tongue was too.

  She stopped abruptly on the stairs, grabbing the hand rail and closing her eyes. Since when did she become so depraved?

  “You okay? You still dizzy from that head injury?”

  Opening her eyes, she saw him standing a couple steps above her. That’s when it hit her. This man had seen war. He’d seen destruction, pain, and death. He’d been in the service for years, doing his so-called patriotic duty. Sacrificing himself for the rest of the Americans back at home. Deploying again and again to an unfriendly, dangerous, miserable place that no one in their right mind would want to go to.

  And he did it willingly. Over and over. His mother had told her more than she needed to know in her short time at their farmhouse. Matt’s time serving his country had affected Mary Ann more than anyone knew.

  Carly didn’t even think Matt realized how much his mother had suffered with anxiety and fear of him being over there. Of possibly losing her youngest son forever.

  But she had seen it in the older woman and had empathized.

  He did what every male in the Bryson family had done. Went into the Marines to serve their country and then became a cop to serve their community.

  Even so, he was still an asshole.

  She gave him a slow smile. “How soon can you be naked?”

  Without a word, he spun around and ran up the remaining stairs.

  Chapter 4

  Carly slammed the bedroom door behind her while kicking off her shoes and yanking her T-shirt over her head, working it carefully over her glasses. She wanted to leave them on to see him more clearly. She wanted to see every chiseled piece of the man.

  He sat on the edge of the bed, unlacing his boots. However, he watched her, not what he was doing.

  His gaze seared her as she fumbled with the snap and zipper on her jeans. Eventually she got them open and pushed them over her hips and down her thighs. She kicked out of them too.

  She stood before him in her cream-colored panties and bra, which were nothing fancy. Plain and utilitarian, if anything. She hadn’t known she would be getting naked in front of anybody today. Otherwise, she would have given her undergarments more thought. Not that she kept anything sexy as a
change of clothes at work anyway, but still…

  Hell, they wouldn't be on long anyway, she thought, and reached behind to unhook her bra. She let it fall to the ground and then glanced up. He still sat on the bed fully dressed, his boots placed neatly beside him, his socks rolled and tucked inside.

  What was he waiting for?

  Heat flooded her cheeks and chest. Then she became even more mortified about actually being embarrassed. She had been so eager she now stood practically naked before him. Maybe he didn’t like what he saw. Maybe that was why he hesitated?

  She brought her hands up to cover her breasts.

  “Don’t.” He stood up and moved in front of her, grabbing her wrists and pulling her hands away. He cupped them in his own, testing their weight, smoothing his fingers along the outer curves, brushing his thumbs over the hard peaks.

  Carly closed her eyes, goosebumps breaking out over her body at his touch.

  “Look at me.”

  She did.

  “You’re beautiful.”

  That was the last thing she expected from an asshole’s mouth. “I’d like to say the same about you, but you’re still wearing clothes.”

  With a sharp nod, he stepped back and methodically stripped himself of his jeans, shirt, and boxer briefs, neatly folding each piece of clothing to a uniformed size and stacking them on top of his boots.

  She was right. His body looked like sculpted art. The lines and planes were hard, firm. Not an ounce of softness to be found on this man. His muscles rippled as he moved. And he moved like a machine.

  Then he turned and she gasped. She moved closer and brushed her fingers along his shoulder blades and down his spine.

  His whole back was inked; his skin a canvas for the Marines logo, the American Flag, and the words Semper Fi in a banner along his lower back. All in gray-scale. The art was beautiful, but the piece seemed extreme. At least to her.

  The tattoo probably took days, weeks, possibly even months. A lot of pain and a lot of dedication.

  As well as a lot of healing.

  His head dropped for a moment as she pressed herself against him from behind. His hard, lean body against her soft one. She hadn’t been this close to a man in a while.