Boyfriend's Brother

by ML Skye

  Chloe grabbed the shorts and slipped them on. "Can't sleep. Going for a run." Thank the universe she often took to pavement when she fought insomnia.

  Didn't stop guilt from grabbing hold and biting down hard at the half-lie. Marc flopped back down and mumbled a good-bye. Chloe dashed out of the bedroom and jammed her feet inside her shoes. She snatched the entry key, tucked it in her zippered shirt pocket and wrenched the door open. Once outside, she gulped in a deep breath of fresh air and quietly closed the heavy slab of wood. The contrast between interior and exterior spiked Chloe's consciousness to a calmer state. Less toxic, more breathable, and no walls to close in on her.

  The noxious atmosphere shouldn't touch Marc. She started down the road toward the park, away from traffic. She knew the trails forward and backward and wanted to let her brain wander until things straightened out in her head.

  She ran hard for an hour, cooled down for two. Didn't come up with any definitive answers. But she decided to let things play out and follow their natural course.

  She owed Marc a chance, wait and see if he actually proposed, or if she'd had a major freak out over nothing. Her so-called feelings for Jace could be a result of the meltdown, a way to have some kind of exit strategy backup and nothing more. If she and Marc were meant to be, they'd be okay. If they weren't meant for the long haul, well, she'd know soon enough.

  She stood outside the door, more in control, and slid her key into the slot. Twisted the knob and expected to enter a darkened foyer. Instead, she found the apartment lit up, and Marc sitting at the table, dressed in full kit, with a steaming mug of coffee.

  Chloe toed off her shoes. "What's up?" She passed Marc's rucksack on her way to the kitchen. "They call you out for maneuvers?"

  A reprieve after deciding she'd stick it out? Chloe didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

  Marc drained his mug. "Yeah. Two weeks, rough terrain, armored vehicles." He rose and grinned. "All my faves. Except for the two weeks part." Crossing to the sink, he set his mug inside and leaned down to drop a kiss on top of her head. "Rain check on dinner in, okay?" A car honked outside, and Marc snagged her lips for a quick kiss. "There's my ride. Gotta go." He headed for the door, grabbing his rucksack on the way. "Love you, Chlo."

  He scrambled outside so fast she didn't get a word in. He acted like a kid on holiday. Shaking her head, she walked through the apartment, shutting off lights. She'd straighten up after a long, hot shower. Marc always left the place in shambles when he had to leave on short notice. Okay, he tended to make a mess regardless.

  If she went TDA—temporary duty assignment—to another base, she'd invariably come home to dishes, an empty fridge, and piles of laundry. She didn't consider herself a domestic goddess, because she did her share of cluttering up, too. An image of Jace's pristine apartment flashed in her mind, and she shuddered against it. Time for that shower… maybe a cold one.

  * * * *

  Jason sat eating a half-decent breakfast at their last stop before heading back to the ship. Coffee, orange juice, toast, and almost perfect scrambled eggs. Usually, they had an overcooked rubbery quality or a watery consistency that made Jason want to heave. Today's light and fluffy version made him wonder where the base found their cook and if he could be bribed to transfer to the Nimichellen.

  He'd never get so lucky.

  He stuffed another forkful in his mouth, closed his eyes, and savored the bite. Lost the moment when Doug Euceks dropped down across from him, banging Jason's knee under the table. He swallowed the mouthful and glared in his wingman's direction.

  "Jace, man, where the hell have you been?" Deuce lowered his voice. "Had one too many hangars last night. We coulda used you to keep things even." He picked up Jace's OJ and helped himself to a healthy gulp. "We're going back out tonight. You in?"

  Jace wondered which one of his mates let the groupies know where to find them. Had to have been Jagger. The shit. And that meant their time after the show wouldn't be free and clear either.

  Jace had zero desire to balance things out anymore. "Not interested, Deuce." He finished off his eggs and washed them down with coffee. "Not really feeling it right now."

  "Dude. What is up with you?" The other pilot took another big drink from Jace's glass. "You haven't been right since we left the Nimmy. What gives?"

  Jason heaved a sigh. "Nothing gives, Deuce. I'm fine."

  Deuce shook his head. "No, you're not." He rose from the seat. "But you can brood in peace. I'm gonna catch some rack time before tonight." He drained the last of the orange juice. "Let me know if you change your mind."

  Jason nodded but didn't reply. Didn't have to. Deuce would run interference this weekend.

  Maybe he should go with the guys. Get drunk. Get laid. Walk away. Burn the memory of Chloe's skin sliding against his out of his mind. If he didn't do something to get that out of his head, he'd go insane.

  His fingers itched to call Chloe, but he wouldn't. What if Marc answered? He and his brother didn't talk much when Jace shipped out or Marc deployed. What excuse could Jace use?

  Gee, Marc, just calling to see if Chloe answered.

  Why would you do that, bro?

  Oh, you know, because I'm totally and completely insane.

  Right. Jace couldn't call. He'd promised to keep Marc clear.

  He needed to forget about her. Forget Chloe. Focus on what he wanted from the future. Hopefully, once he got back to the Nimmy, he'd be able to shove the self-loathing aside long enough to figure it out. Because he'd been too distracted after the night with Chloe to even consider his options.

  Rising from the table, Jace dropped his tray at the wash station and headed for the simulator. He'd probably think of nothing but Chloe and how much he wanted her, but hating himself had started to feel like his normal state lately.

  Chapter Six

  Marc's two weeks of maneuvers would end in two days, and after making her choice, she now waffled with indecision. She hadn't come up with any easy answers. She couldn't shake the gut churning feeling of being with the wrong guy. She pretty much hated herself. And Jace, too. Damn the man for being at the same bar she'd picked.

  She needed to talk to someone and wished she could have face time. But her closest friends were deployed at the moment, so not exactly possible. Made it very easy to let herself off the hook since she'd be emailing or talking on a comm system. No visual recriminations possible that way.

  Heaving a sigh, she placed a planet to ship call for Janie Garnet. She listened to a static-filled connection while she waited for her former bunkmate from basic training to answer the line. They'd taken very different paths since they'd graduated, but their friendship held up over the years. Janie would listen to Chloe whine about her drama, then tell her to get her shit together.

  "Garnet on the comm. Go." A loud crackle followed Janie's greeting.

  Chloe spoke up over the noise. "Janie, it's Chloe. Wow, horrible connection."

  "Chlo. What's up? You okay? Tell me you're not in hack again."

  The line cleared a little, and Chloe grinned. She'd called Janie one time to bail her out, and her friend loved to remind Chloe on a frequent basis.

  "No, I'm not rotting in a brig somewhere… but I probably should be." Or maybe a padded cell would be better.

  Janie snorted. "What? You didn't kill anyone, did you?"

  Chloe snorted. "No, but I did something really, really stupid, and I have no idea how the hell to fix it."

  Another burst of static crackled over the line. Chloe held the phone away from her ear until she caught Janie's voice coming through again.

  "Shit, this connection sucks balls." More static followed by an apology. "I'm sorry, sweetie. What can I do to make things better, Chlo?"

  Chloe sighed. "Just tell me to get over myself and deal." The horrible connection would make the call a short one.

  Janie chuckled. "Okay. Get over yourself and deal." She paused a moment. "Seriously, Chloe, are you all right?"

  Chloe huffed ou
t a breath. "Yeah. It's a little crazy right now, but I'll be fine. Thanks, Janie."

  Janie sighed. "You don't sound fine, but dammit, I can't stay on here. Call me back when a meteor shower isn't screwing with the comm traffic, okay?"

  Chloe could totally do that. "I will. Give 'em hell, Janie."

  The call went dead on another loud burst of static.

  Chloe tossed the phone on the sofa and flopped back against the cushions. Admitting she'd done something stupid helped ease the ache in her gut, but would it be enough? Chloe didn't want to face Marc coming from a position of guilt and confusion. Then again, she could really be getting worked up over nothing. Pretty damned asinine to worry about something before it happened. The stuff she felt for Jace… could fade. It would. She just needed some time and distance.

  When Marc came back, she'd be ready for whatever he had planned.

  She hoped.

  * * * *

  Jace disentangled himself from the leggy blonde with an unceremonious grunt and crawled off the bed. He'd done his part. She'd leave with no complaints and should be well-satisfied. But, geez, he hated the empty pleasure. Jace couldn't wait for her to make an exit and leave him in peace. He stumbled to the bath, mumbling about a shower. Yanking the door open, he flipped the lights on and met his reflection in the mirror. Hell, he looked like shit. Felt like it, too.

  Turning the shower on as hot as it would go, he scrubbed a hand over his face. The squadron had an overnight layover at spaceport Gamma after their transport pilot discovered a burned up thruster when they'd stopped to refuel. Jagger took it as a sign from the universe and immediately dragged the crew to the nearest courtesy bar to find the hottest action. Jace finally couldn't offer any excuses for not hanging with the guys. He let them cajole him to the club and buy him round after round of drinks.

  Jace sucked it up and went for the first woman who expressed an interest. So what if she resembled Chloe. The majority of the females in the club had blonde hair, natural or not, and the odds he'd end up with one had to be off the charts. At least the guys couldn't bitch about uneven numbers. Deuce's interference only went so far, and Jace appreciated the effort his friend had made.

  Stepping under the water, Jace lathered up, wincing when the washcloth came into contact with his neck. Merlene, no Marlena something or other, had a thing for leaving marks. She'd latched onto his throat more times than he could count. Of course, he didn't really try. He'd been too busy flashing back to the night with Chloe, remembering her teeth grazing his skin, reliving the slide of her flesh against his, and hearing the way she sucked in a breath when she'd been close to orgasm. A shudder tore through him, and he shook it off. God, he needed to forget his brother's girlfriend.

  Or maybe fiancée, by now.

  Jace turned the shower to cold and ducked directly under the spray. When he couldn't stand it anymore, he shut the knob off and grabbed a towel. The frigid temp didn't wipe the memory away, but it did wake him the hell up.

  Wrapping the terrycloth around his waist, he cracked the door open to find his room empty. Heaving a sigh of relief, he got dressed and gathered his gear. He still had over eight hours before they'd launch for the Nimmy, but he wouldn't sleep. Too much stuff warred for attention in his head. Exiting into the corridor, he headed for the far end of the station. He stopped for a giant cup of coffee at the officer's mess, then continued on his walkabout. Ruthlessly shoving thoughts of Chloe and Marc aside, he focused on trying to figure out what he wanted to do about the future. His gut churned when he thought about re-upping for another stint. But it might be better in the long run. Staying in would keep his contact with family to a minimum. Marc and Chloe deserved their chance to be happy, and Jace didn't want to get in the way. Not that he could. Hell, he didn't even know exactly how he felt about Chloe. And he didn't want to examine things too closely. Much easier to lock his emotions up and look ahead.

  He did his best, wandering around the station, mentally listing pros and cons. Back and forth, up and down, he weighed his options. He got exactly nowhere to close to a decision, and he barely made the transport flight back. He'd spent so much time with his head up his ass he had to run to get there.

  Jagger slapped him on the shoulder, misinterpreting the reason Jace showed up only seconds before roll call. "Welcome back, man. We've got even numbers again." He waggled his eyebrows. "Even I can't handle threesomes all the time, dude."

  Paul Jaginski might be one of Jace's closest friends, but he made having sex with two women sound like the ultimate contact sport. Jace couldn't even deal with one anymore. He shrugged and kept his mouth shut. He wouldn't bother setting Jag straight.

  If he tried, he'd have to admit to going through the motions long enough to make sure the perky-titted blonde left his bed satisfied and not much else. Climbing on board, Jace settled back and prayed for sleep. Maybe he'd find some answers in a dream.

  He couldn't seem to find them anywhere else.

  Chapter Seven

  Chloe thought she'd be ready. But Marc caught her off guard. He'd returned from maneuvers in a somber mood. His platoon leader had announced he'd been diagnosed with terminal cancer and he'd be retiring from service immediately. The guys had thrown him an impromptu party the previous day, and Marc didn't want to talk about the fact he'd never see his CO again. The man boarded a flight for his home planet to spend what remained of his life with his family.

  Chloe figured Marc would hold off on whatever big surprise he'd planned. She really should've known Marc would bounce back and decide life didn't last long enough to wait for anything he wanted.

  They'd finished up a quick stir-fry she'd made for dinner. Not one of Marc's favorites, but she'd been running late after meeting with her CO about the new class of cadets. The meeting hadn't gone great. Major Rafael Ferenza asked her point-blank when she'd shoved a stick up her ass. She'd been snapping at students and losing her patience—definitely not her standard operating procedure—the first week of class. Her personal issues had taken a toll, but she assured her boss she'd dial it back and go easier on the recruits. She'd been friends with Raf for a long time so he cut her some slack, and she almost accepted when he offered to take her out for coffee and check rank at the door so she could unload whatever had her twisted sideways.

  Instead, she'd thanked him and declined, mentioning getting home to cook dinner. Thankfully, Raf didn't bust his gut laughing, since her culinary skills barely passed muster.

  She started to get up to clear the table when Marc put the tiny square box in front of her. Her stomach clenched, and she sat back down. Her eyes seeking Marc's, she didn't know what to say.

  Marc took care of starting the conversation.

  "Don't you want to know what it is?"

  Chloe could guess, hell, any woman could, but she inclined her head anyway.

  "Open it." His grin spread wide across his face like he'd just put the most awesome thing in the universe on the table.

  Chloe sucked in a deep breath and flipped open the box. Every girl's dream gleamed inside.

  Every girl's but hers.

  Her eyes sought Marc's again, and he grabbed her hand. "Wanna get hitched?"

  She didn't expect a huge romantic overture, didn't really need it either, but 'wanna get hitched' barely resided a step up from asking her if she wanted to watch arena ball or shoot billiards. And it kind of clinched things. Marc had no more of an idea what went into a marriage than she did.

  She slowly snapped the box closed and sat it in front of him. "I can't."

  The shock hit hard. "What?" He blinked and cocked his head. "Why not?"

  He'd clearly expected her to say yes.

  Chloe looked down at her hands. "I need some time. To think about it."

  "Time! What for?" Marc's voice rose a little. "What's to think about?"

  Chloe met his gaze. "Gee, Marc, I don't know. We've never talked about marriage and all of a sudden BAM! You think it's time?" She shook her head. "I have no idea what there is t
o think about." She tried to keep the sarcasm at bay but didn't quite succeed.

  Marc sat back. "What are we doing here, Chloe?" He crossed his arms over his chest.

  Chloe sighed. "I don't know, Marc. What are we doing?"

  He leaned forward, putting his elbows on the table. "Taking the next step."

  Chloe sat back, needing some space between them. "Next step? With zero discussion?"

  Marc shot her a confused look. "What's to talk about?"

  Oh, hell. She had to work to keep her mouth from falling open. "Forever maybe?"

  Marc snorted. "Nothing lasts forever, babe. You know that."

  Chloe closed her eyes. "Then why get married?" She knew the reasons she'd consider signing on for a lifetime but had a feeling hers wouldn't match Marc's.

  Marc considered her question and answered with one of his own. "Why not? We love each other, right?" When she nodded, he warmed up a bit. "We've been together a couple of years, and it's logical to talk marriage at this point."

  Oh, Marc. "Except the flaw in your logic is that we've never talked about it. You just handed me a ring and said let's get hitched."

  "What's the problem with that?" He snapped his fingers. "Wait. It could have been more romantic, but you don't really go for that kind of thing."

  Chloe held back a sigh. "It's not about the presentation, Marc."

  He got frustrated. "Then what's it about? I don't get it."

  Chloe explained. "What do you see us doing in five years, Marc?"

  He frowned. "I don't know. I never think that far ahead."

  Chloe pressed her point. "Do you see us raising kids? Are we still in the military? What if I decide to leave and go civilian? What if you do?" She drove her case home. "Don't you think we should talk about these things?"

  Marc's eyes narrowed. "What's going on, Chlo? With you?"

  I almost had sex with your brother and can't stop thinking about it.

  She pressed her lips together. "Nothing."