Boyfriend's Brother

by ML Skye

  Jace grinned. "Then I'm all in." He nodded toward the hangar. "Let's get our pre-flight checks out of the way."

  Deuce blinked at the change of subject but fell into step beside Jace. He thanked whatever ruled the universe that Deuce didn't ask a bunch of questions. Until Jace had a better handle on why he felt so dissatisfied, he wouldn't have a clue how to answer.

  Climbing up and settling into the cockpit, Jace pondered his disconnect. He'd hoped being back on his home planet would settle some of the chaos in his brain. Not so much. Running through the list, he quickly checked the tick boxes and handed the clipboard off to one of the deck crew.

  Slouching down, Jason frowned. Maybe he should call his brother and get some family time in. He could ask Marc for advice. Jason snorted. He could already hear his brother's sage words, and they wouldn't be of any help. Marc's idea of offering wisdom usually meant making Jason look like an idiot. Marc seemed to think his younger brother status made being immature acceptable. He had yet to outgrow the notion.

  Glancing up, Jason caught sight of a blonde head bobbing just past the nose of the plane. He squinted, wondering if his brother's girlfriend would be watching the show. Then he remembered Marc and Chloe usually took off somewhere for semester break. Probably not her.

  Too bad. He'd have more luck getting some solid advice from Chloe. His lips quirked. After the way they'd met—Jason thought Chloe had been an exotic dancer, one of Marc's stupid pranks—Jace wouldn't have dreamed he'd ever seek Chloe's input. But Chloe proved her mettle when she caught up to Jason outside the club. He still got a kick out of her turning the tables on Marc—

  "Jace! Suit up. It's time." Jagger made a thumbs-up sign.

  Jason grabbed his helmet and drew it over his head. He shoved every other thought aside and focused on what he loved best.

  Flying.

  * * * *

  Chloe let herself into the guest quarters and tossed her keys on the desk. As expected, she'd racked up the highest score in the sim run after the air show. She couldn't wait to get her hands on the new crafts when they started rolling off the assembly line.

  Still feeling a little at loose ends, she grabbed a shower and pondered plans for the evening. She could go home, but the thought made her twitchy. Rifling through the clothes she'd brought, she figured another night kicking back in one of her former haunts might be fun. Grabbing a pair of jeans, a button-down blouse, and her underthings, she quickly dressed and checked the wireless service for any messages, hoping and dreading Marc maybe called.

  After listening and deleting two promotional calls about sand and surf vacations, she flopped down on the bed. She should be at a beach with a cool drink in her hand, watching Marc frolic in the waves.

  "Damn you, Marc, for being so cryptic." She held her hand up, trying to imagine a ring on her finger.

  She sort of had to hand it to Marc. Being secretive and cagey definitely didn't count as his usual style. The guy couldn't keep a secret to save his life on a good day—unless it had to do with deployment or mission operations. Chloe snorted. She sometimes wished Marc respected information about their private life as much as he did need-to-know orders. He had a very bad habit of sharing intimate details with the guys in his platoon. Chloe sort of hoped now that most were married, their juvenile discussions would taper off. Gah. Married. She sat up and bolted off the bed.

  She needed to shut her brain down and move out before the edgy feeling creeping back up on her ruined the fun. She snagged her keys and base ID from the desk and decided to walk to her location. Flipping the lights off, she exited the guest quarters and blew out a long breath.

  Doing her best to shake off the nervous tension, she headed for the street.

  * * * *

  The air show brought on the usual adrenaline high, and Jason looked forward to hanging with his mates afterward. He grabbed a shower on base and changed into civilian clothes, meeting up with Deuce and Jagger. They piled into a cab and left to meet the rest of the crew at an ethnic restaurant not far from base. Since all twenty members of his squadron were attending, Jace figured they couldn't help having a great time.

  And without the usual gaggle of clingy females, the competitive vibe between the guys almost didn't exist. They had enjoyed their meal and started off a night of drinking right there in the restaurant. After a full-blown round of extreme ribbing, Deuce suggested they hit the favorite bar of each pilot, have a shot or a pint, and let off a lot of steam.

  With a pensive feeling crawling back inside his head, Jason put up a mental block to his bad mood and managed to mostly enjoy himself—for a few hours, at least.

  They'd hit Jace's choice ten minutes before, and he'd finally reached his wall of tolerance. Yet he didn't want to go home and be alone with his thoughts either.

  Deuce jibed him about his dissatisfaction. "Jace, my man, it's gotta be a phase." He slapped Jace on the back. "Whatever's got you twisted up will get straightened out. You'll see."

  Deuce might be right, but Jason felt like a time for change had come.

  A big one.

  Jason would finish up his current stint in less than a year, and a decision to re-up hovered in the wings. Jason honestly couldn't say he'd go for four more years. He'd been approached to test-fly civilian jets and have a hand in their design, and he could work on military projects, too.

  He had to admit, the idea sparked interest. So did having a chance to settle down and maybe find someone to share his life with—if such a woman existed.

  Jason envied his brother. Marc could be an immature brat, but he'd found the woman of his dreams. And Jason actually liked her—even after the completely bizarre introduction, Chloe had quickly won him over.

  To that day, Jason didn't get his brother's need to push everything too far—like when Jace first met Chloe and Marc set it up so Jace mistook her for a stripper. As usual, Jason had responded exactly as expected, with an overreaction much to Marc's great amusement. Jason had been so angry he'd stalked out of the club so he wouldn't punch his brother in the face.

  He'd got halfway up the block before he heard the clatter of heels running to catch up with him.

  "Jason! Please, wait. Hold up!"

  He had slowed his pace but didn't stop walking. In his current mood, if Marc happened to be with Chloe, Jason would lay him out and enjoy doing so. He wanted to be happy for his brother. Hell, he had been happy for him. Chloe had outlasted every one of Marc's previous hookups. Jason had been proud of him… until five minutes before then.

  Chloe had caught up, minus her shoes, which dangled from her fingertips. Jason admired the fact she'd removed them in favor of speed. She fell into step beside him and walked to the next intersection where he had to wait for a red light.

  "He's sorry, you know?"

  Jason snorted. "Yeah, he is. Which is why he didn't come with you."

  Chloe shook her head. "No, he didn't come with me because I asked him not to."

  Jason had inclined his head. "So he just sends you out—alone—to soothe his pissed off brother. What a prize." And he needed to shut up. Chloe would think he'd gone completely insane.

  Chloe had a very angry look on her face. "Marc knows better than to try and argue with me when I set my mind on something. He wouldn't try to stop me, no matter how pissed off you are."

  Jason had all but snarled. "Really? Why the hell not?"

  Chloe shouted back. "Because I'm a soldier, just like you two. I don't need backup."

  Jason scoffed. "Whatever." He turned away, ignoring Chloe.

  She gave Jason a considering look. "He's right about you."

  Jason laughed. "Right about what? That I'm a stupid moron who falls for anything?"

  Chloe tilted her head to one side. "There is that. But he also said you're a stand-up guy." She laid her hand on his forearm. "Being pissed off on my behalf—without knowing or meeting me—demonstrated his point nicely. Thank you."

  Jason shook her hand away. "It also capped off the evening's ent
ertainment for Marc. He gets a lap dance and has fun watching me make an ass out of myself."

  Chloe sighed. "I went along with it. If you're mad at him, you should be mad at me, too."

  Of course, she'd gone along with it.

  Oddly disappointed, Jason skirted the issue. "Why are you here?"

  Chloe smiled. "To apologize. Marc and I get carried away sometimes in the name of so-called fun. Occasionally, someone gets hurt. I'm not proud of that fact."

  Jason didn't accept or reject her apology. Instead, he asked a question. "Okay, tell me this. Was the lap dance your idea, or did Marc put you up to it?"

  Chloe pondered a moment. "He thought it would be amusing to see the look on your face." She grimaced. "I kinda agreed."

  Jason blew out a heavy breath. "Well, that's just great. You two are perfect for each other." The light finally turned green, and Jace stepped toward the curb.

  He couldn't wait to get the hell back to base.

  Chloe's strong grip stopped him. "Look, it was a shitty thing to do." She let go of his arm. "Let's start over. Come to dinner tomorrow." She shrugged. "I can't cook for crap, but I know the best takeout places in town."

  Jason didn't know if it would be a good idea to spend time with Marc right then, but he found himself relenting and accepting her invitation. "I like spicy ethnic foods."

  Chloe's laughter rang out. "The kind Marc hates. Good choice. Stop by around seven. You know the address, right?"

  Jason nodded and stepped onto the crosswalk.

  Chloe lifted her hand in farewell and turned to head back to the club.

  Dinner had gone off without any harsh words between the brothers. Marc behaved and kept his mouth shut about the incident the night before. Jason managed to forge a friendship with Chloe—having flying in common broke any remaining ice. And if Jason wondered sometimes what she saw in Marc, he kept it to himself.

  Probably a good thing. Chloe freely admitted her own faults. Said her middle name should've been 'impulsive'.

  But in a weird way, she helped keep Marc grounded. As grounded as he could be anyway.

  The problem with Marc? His young age. Mentally, anyway. Sometimes, Jason thought Marc too immature for a relationship, but what did he know? He couldn't find anyone who spurred his interest enough to ask for a second date.

  Only two years separated him from his brother, but there were times Marc acted like it could be decades. Brash and charming, Marc's bravado fooled almost everyone. Until he didn't get his way. His childishness always reared its ugly head when that happened.

  Marc thought the world owed him something. That it should fall at his feet and thank him for being… well, Marc. Chloe did a lot to disabuse his brother of that notion. She didn't take Marc's bullshit when he got smacked down. For that reason alone, she proved to be great for his brother.

  Jace had no reason to be morose about it. Not really. By thinking about Marc and Chloe, he could put off trying to decide what to do with his own life. Leaving the military would kick up a bunch of backlash. His dad still maintained active military status, even though he could retire with full pension and all the benefits that went with it.

  If Jason chose to leave, his dad would lose his shit. And Marc would take whatever track the elder McIvey decided on. And honestly, Jason didn't know if he wanted civilian life. He liked the structure and rules involved with his job. They acted as a tether, kept him grounded.

  But the prospect of creative freedom held great appeal, too. The not knowing for sure what he wanted… not so much.

  God, he should be committed.

  "Yo, Jace? Where'd you go, man?" Jagger's voice pulled him from his thoughts.

  Jason glanced over and noticed the guys all gathered by the door.

  Jagger lifted a brow. "We're ready to head out. You coming?"

  Jace waved them off. "Nah. I'm not ready to take off yet. I'll take a cab back to the apartment." He could actually walk, but he didn't need the guys to know that. He kept the location of his apartment to himself.

  His boisterous mates left and he finished his shot. Still too keyed up to head for home, Jace exited the bar and ambled up the road for two blocks, then turned and continued along the next block until he arrived at his second favorite pub in town.

  He'd never shared the information with his team… it came in handy on occasion to have a little place tucked away that no one knew about. He made his way to the crowded bar, grabbed a vacant stool, and ordered another shot.

  Lifting the glass, he made a silent toast. To figuring shit out. Tossing back the liquid, he relished the strong burn that slid down his throat.

  Maybe if he drank enough, the answers would come to him.

  Chapter Three

  Chloe couldn't shake the itchy feeling that hummed in her blood. She hadn't been so tightly strung since she took her final flight test. It made her a little insane.

  All because she thought she knew why Marc had returned home. If he planned what she suspected, well… she shook off the thought. She'd wait and see if she'd called it right when Marc returned. Then she'd figure out if she could handle the challenge.

  While she worked on her fourth shot, a guy approached and struck up a conversation. He introduced himself as Max. Chloe knew the type… snobby college boy always hanging out with a gang of friends… unless he got lucky. She didn't have the patience to be hit on but spoke casually, being careful not to express an interest. After downing her shot, she ordered another, then excused herself to throw darts.

  She broke in on a loner named Charlie, asking if she could join him. Charlie slid his gaze toward Max and his buddies but shrugged and allowed her to play. Midway through the second round of darts, she had just finished her sixth shot when Max cut in and asked her competitor if he could finish the game. Charlie took one look at Max—about twice his size—nodded to Chloe, and ducked out.

  Chloe had liked Charlie. A funny guy and only interested in throwing darts, their game had made her forget the nervous tension. The edginess returned when Max loomed back in her personal space. Chloe signaled the bartender for two more shots, deciding she'd play things loose until Max pushed her too hard.

  Then she'd push back.

  His loud and raucous gang of friends held court in a corner booth. Chloe rolled her eyes and downed another drink. She rebuffed Max's attempts at conversation and focused solely on the game. Unhappy she all but ignored him, Max upped the ante by trying to distract her when her turn came around. Chloe smirked or sneered every time he said something to her or about her. Insults did not faze her. She got used to deflecting them in basic.

  What did happen to rub her wrong? When someone grabbed her from behind and put their hands anyplace on her body. The thing that could send her around the bend? When their hands ended up on the front of her just below her shoulders. Chloe might be well on her way to being stupid drunk, but when Max's paws landed in the vicinity of her breasts, it didn't take her two seconds to respond. Rearing her head back, she cracked him just under his chin, then grabbed one of his hands and flipped him over.

  Stepping back, she looked down and yelled, "Come on. Get up." With upturned hands, she made a 'come get me' motion, then loosened her stance when Max started to rise.

  Focused on him and still seeing red, she didn't notice his friends coming in their direction.

  Before Max even had a chance to completely stand up, she punched him in the face and sent him sprawling. "You think it's all right to just grab what you want?" Keyed up and spoiling for more, she grabbed his arm and pulled him to his feet. "Never had anyone fight back?" Not waiting for an answer, her fist found his gut. She didn't wince from hitting solid muscle, just waited for him to make a move.

  It took Max a dazed minute to realize Chloe didn't count as some college-bound bimbo, but as a warrior instead. But it probably let him off the hook for what he pulled next.

  He stood up straight, noticed his backup on the way and took a swing, his fist connecting with her chin. "Bitch… you
just bought yourself a whole lotta trouble."

  Chloe's head snapped back, but she'd been hit harder in sparring matches. She recovered quickly, to Max's surprise.

  Her lips curved upward. "Bring it on, asshole." Her palms curled up into fists when she noticed his pack of buddies on their way over.

  They formed something of a square around Chloe and Max, making sure she couldn't duck out.

  She paused a moment, then heaved out a breath. "Right. Standard asshattery. No problem." She sneered in Max's direction, took off at a run, and drove her shoulder into his midsection, sending him back into the wall.

  He slumped to the floor but didn't stay down.

  Chloe turned and swung at Max again, considering the fight game-on. So wrapped up in trying to knock him out and dodging his blows, she almost missed the fact the patrons were gathering around to witness the spectacle.

  * * * *

  Well on his way to being inebriated, Jason ordered another double shot. He choked it down in surprise when he glanced up to find his brother's girlfriend ramming her head into a guy standing behind her. He didn't doubt Chloe could handle herself, but after quickly scanning the bar and seeing the foursome blocking her way out, he made his way through the growing crowd to lean against the wall, drink in hand. He wanted to get a handle on the situation before he tried to intervene. And figure out why no one bothered to step in.

  It didn't take long to find an answer.

  "Looks like Mad Max is at it again." One of the patrons shook his head.

  Jace cocked his head, trying to hear the conversation.

  "Yep. Too bad his band of reprobates never gets their due," another guy chimed in.

  The other man snorted. "Hell, no. Not when their parents pretty much have a lock on the police department, city council, and two seats in the senatorial delegation."

  Jason blew out a harsh breath. Pissed off anyone would beat on a woman, he got angrier no one had the balls to lift a hand to help, regardless of the potential fallout. He'd known Chloe long enough to wait a few more moments. She wouldn't welcome a distraction… at least not yet. But soon. She put up a good fight but had to be getting weary.