She answered truthfully and earned a permanent spot in his heart with the openness of her reply. “Friends scare me. One minute, they can be your most ardent supporter, and the next …”
“Your worst nightmare.”
She nodded, but he admired how she consciously straightened. Body language was an interesting thing. Something he’d studied extensively as a marksman. The trauma of Heather’s ordeal damaged her. Pretending otherwise was fucking stupid. But despite the damage, the lady was unbowed. She refused to be a pigeonholed victim. Life conspired to fuck her up the ass, repeatedly … but her fierce determination not to be defined by her troubles was what made her the magnificent woman she was.
“I’m asking now.” She replied in such a small voice that he strained to hear. “As a … friend.”
Wow. Right then and there, he wanted to tell her everything. Like … every damn thing. Wanting to unburden his soul and place it in her hands for safe keeping was huge. Was Heather the sanctuary he yearned for from the demons and sadness clinging to him?
“You’re amazingly on point with your observations. Autonomy is my north star, you know? I’m done with taking orders. When others are calling the shots, it’s way too fucking easy to play fast and loose with someone’s moral compass.”
“I like that about you. It’s kind of badass.” Her quivering smirk fought to become a full grin.
“Badass, huh? Well, at Justice, I’m a baby badass in a huge pond of serious badassery.”
Her eyes gleaming with approval, she remarked, “You like these guys out in Arizona, I take it?”
“They don’t come better than the Justice Brothers. Alex, he’s the head guy. Think Papa Bear with a chest full of medals and a terminal case of absentminded professor. He took me on when I was a full-on head case. Changed my life.”
“Alex? You’ve never mentioned him.”
Brody chuckled. “Ever hear me mention the major? Yeah, well … that’s him. Major Alexander Valleja-Marquez. You’d like him, Heather. He’s smart as fuck and has manners out the ass.”
She rolled her eyes. “Manners out the ass. Nice.”
Talking about Justice felt awesome. He really wanted her to be a part of his whole life, so seeing her shy smile and hearing her admit to being friends was giving him a case of motormouth.
“And then there’s Cam. Actually, he goes by Cameron Justice. You’d like him too. Cameron is his legal last name, but he has some complicated issues around his birth name. Hmph.” He chortled. “All these guys are vets, so the issues,” a word he emphasized with air quotes, “are yesterday’s news. Anyway, Cam is brilliant. So is Draegyn.”
“Say again?”
“I know, right?” he mocked. “Draegyn St. John. Drae for short. What a fucking name! Trust fund baby with a James Bond complex. But don’t be fooled by the tuxedo. The guy can kick anyone’s ass and not break a sweat. Plus, he’s the poster boy for all things involving a mind like a steel trap. Shoulda’ been a government lawyer, that one.”
Heather leaned forward and put her glass on the coffee table. “So there’s a major with manners, a brilliant guy with name issues, and an ass-kicking narcissist. Where do you fit into all this?”
“I would be the dog trainer.”
“The what?”
So that was what incredulous sounded like! Brody laughed. “That’s right. I train the agency’s dogs. Run the whole canine program. Started it, in fact.”
Her jaw was almost on the floor.
“Have never brought this up in group, but getting shot in the fucking head finished my days as a sniper. To be honest, when I was recovering, I don’t even remember how the whole dog thing got started, but before I knew what was happening, I was working in the canine unit. We literally strapped dogs onto someone’s chest and parachuted them out of planes. People don’t realize how crucial dogs are to the military.”
Heather glanced sideways and looked at George. He could see the pieces falling into place in her head.
“So, in a nutshell, when I’m not here in Maryland, I’m in Arizona training security dogs.”
When his phone rang, they both jumped. He’d left it on the table earlier after snapping their selfie with the dog, and frankly, forgot it even existed. One quick look at the screen and he knew he’d have to answer.
Smiling broadly, he picked it up and showed her. “My, uh, nephew,” he proudly announced. Dylan’s smiling, goofy face filled the phone’s screen. “Sorry. Do you mind?”
She quickly shook her head. “Oh, heavens. Go right ahead.”
“Hey there, big guy,” he drawled as the FaceTime session connected. “Why aren’t you in bed?”
Lacey’s sweet smile appeared next to Dylan. “Time change, Uncle Bro,” she quipped. “We’re finishing dinner and about to take a bath but wanted to wish you a Happy New Year. Are we the first to call?”
“Yeah. Drae texted way earlier. Mostly shit about the many ways he could find for me to blow him and suggesting Hello Kitty barrettes for my hair.”
Lacey gurgled with laughter and Dylan followed along. “Ah well, grade him on a curve, okay? He isn’t getting much sleep these days. Daniel’s quite a handful.”
“Everyone’s good, though?” he asked. “Tori? How’s she doing?”
Kissing Dylan on the side of his face, Lacey snuggled him close. “She’s been through a rough time … all things considered.”
God. What an understatement. Victoria St. John struggled almost from day one of her pregnancy. Wanting to be there when the baby came, he’d hung around Arizona way longer than he normally would have, flying into Baltimore at Christmas just days before classes started. All in all, the last couple of weeks had been a fast-paced blur.
“But Draegyn … oh, my word, Brody! He’s been amazing. Fatherhood really brought out the best in him.”
The comment shouldn’t have sent an arrow through his heart, but it did. Lacey would freak out if she knew anything she’d said caused him pain, so he schooled his expression to remain neutral.
“Did I catch you getting ready to go out?” With a cute snicker, she teased, “Better put a shirt on if Meghan calls. You know who wouldn’t like having your manly attributes on display.”
Oh, shit. That was right. He was practically in his birthday suit. He hadn’t thought it through before answering. Damn technology. FaceTime could be dangerous.
One quick glance at Heather, and he made up his mind about what to say next. Though she was right next to him on the sofa, she was trying to appear as though she wasn’t actively following every word.
“Actually, Mrs. Cameron, your timing is borderline shitty. I’m already out. I mean it’s after nine in the East, and you’ve interrupted a game of strip poker.”
Heather gasped, looked at him, and immediately choked on some laughter. He’d winked and smirked when she reacted … something Lacey would clearly see.
“You’re serious, aren’t you?” Not waiting for an answer, a clearly flustered Lacey Cameron giggled then used her hand to make Dylan wave. “On that note, big kisses, Uncle Bro, and a Happy New Year. Hurry home, okay? We miss you.”
“Miss you too.” Holding his fist up, he growled, “Fist bump me, dude!” Nodding his thanks, he ended the call, saying, “Happy New Year. I’ll see you soon.”
“The wedding! Squee!” she trilled. Then a quick wave, a blown kiss, and the call ended.
When he looked over at Heather, she had the oddest expression on her face.
“Wedding?”
THEY WERE STANDING at the small kitchen island wearing party hats and munching on the double order of chicken satay they hadn’t devoured earlier. Their appreciative moans filled the air.
“Don’t bogart the peanut sauce,” he teased.
“Hey,” Heather growled. “It’s not my fault you’re so wishy-washy. Dip away. Jam in the whole piece and cover it with sauce. Like this.” And then she proceeded to annihilate an entire slab in three bites after covering it with the sticky sauce. “Unf. So d
amn good. Food of the gods.”
She eyed his naked torso as their foodie banter took place and wondered how his chest would taste covered with some of the yummy peanut sauce.
Asking any more questions about Arizona after his call seemed fruitless. There wasn’t any need. His infinitesimal hesitation before saying nephew told her loud and clear that the kid on the phone wasn’t a blood relative. And that whoever was calling was a personal friend. Someone close.
Hearing the stranger tell Brody that he was missed and to hurry home saddened her even though the reaction was ridiculous. There were people in his life who cared about him. She should be happy about it instead of letting a bit of melancholy get her down because she wanted to be one of those people. Who cared.
Asking about the wedding was a brain fart. She was surprised when he didn’t elaborate. Just said yeah, that this group he referred to as Family Justice had a wedding coming up. And that was it. He didn’t elaborate further and she didn’t push.
While cycling through her thoughts, she didn’t see the curve ball he threw until it broke right in front of her.
“Now, it’s your turn. You gonna explain what happened earlier?” He chewed slowly and licked sauce residue from his mouth. “Or do I have to throw an interrogation lamp in your eyes to get answers.”
Thud. That was the sound of her stomach dropping out.
“Was it me, Heather? Was something I said or did a trigger?”
“No!” She shook her head vehemently. “No, Brody. It wasn’t you. Not really.”
“Then what? Have there been other attacks? Do you need to talk to somebody?”
Discarding an empty skewer, she reached for a napkin and wiped her mouth. “I’m fine. Maybe better than fine.” When he arched a skeptical eyebrow at her, she added, “No, really. I’m serious.”
“Going pale as a ghost and almost hitting the floor is better than fine? In what world does that statement make sense?”
She knew word games and clever distractions weren’t a healthy way to deal with these things. Plus, the only way to stay true to herself was by answering truthfully. She’d deal with the blowback later.
“I meant it when I said it might be a good thing. Timing leaves a lot to be desired, though.” She lowered her voice and slid some sarcasm into her reply. Speaking over her shoulder from the sink where she’d gone to wash her hands, she chose her words carefully. “Maybe my mom’s constant harping about getting a life…” A shrug finished the sentence. “I don’t know. Can’t really see the bigger picture when I’m focused on the little things.”
Drying off with some paper towels, she tossed the crumpled wad into the trash like an NBA superstar. “You saw that, right?”
Brody growled and shook his head. “Yeah, yeah. Three-point throw. I got it. Now, keep talking.”
Her heart rate picked up. A sure sign that she was headed to the intersection of overexcited and compulsive. The urge to pick up a cloth and start cleaning … just to take the edge off … was riding her, hard. It took every ounce of control she could muster to lean against the counter and remain in one place.
There it was again. That feeling of falling. She felt s vulnerable without a shield. Tense fingers began twirling a section of hair that lay on her shoulder.
“I, um … well.” She swallowed. Just say it, her mind screamed. Crossing her arms across her barely covered chest, she blurted the words quickly and held her breath. “I’m not so comfortable … that is, what I meant to say is, um. I’ve been experiencing some loneliness and admitting that has sort of led to holes appearing in my protective barrier.”
“I’m one of those holes.” He said it with certainty, and she didn’t try to disagree. “Aren’t I?”
“Yeah. You are. Look,” she argued. “You took me by surprise.”
“How?”
“Seriously, Brody? How? Pfft. We might not invest much time in chitchatting during our time together. I’ll give you that. But that doesn’t mean you get to play dumb. That’s what this entire discussion is about. You sent me a Christmas card. From Arizona. You show up unexpected and without as much as a hello, start seducing me, and …”
“Excuse me? Seducing you? A bit of a stretch, don’t you think?”
“Stop changing the subject.”
“Oh, for god’s sake, Heather. Look at you. I’m betting a dime would bounce off your ass you’re wrapped so damn tight. It’s killing you to remain still. I’ve been watching,” he sneered with a deliberate side-glance at a wall clock. “Eleven minutes. I’m impressed, but honey, why are you so wired? The thumbs inside your clenched fists tell me you’re almost ready to go off. All this because I sent you a Christmas card?”
Heather released her hands and shook them out. He was right, of course. Brody was someone who did not discount nuance. He was a silent observer … of every little thing. If she were to ask, he’d no doubt be able to tell her what the wind speed was inside her apartment. While she had a hard time relaxing and was rarely stationary … he was a goddamn sphinx. Solid. Imposing. Unmoving. At times, deathly still.
Trying to act all calm and controlled while running frantic circles in her mind was turning out to be an epic fail. She was all over the place emotionally. Touching down on specifics then darting away to focus on something else. If their conversation was a mess, it was because of her.
Unable to stay still any longer, she growled in frustration and whirled around, smacking her hands on the counter. “Dammit, Brody.” He was on top of her in seconds.
“Okay, enough,” he ground out. His hands sweeping slowly up and down her arms gave her the chills. She heard a deep sigh. Then he held her upper arms tight, gave a little squeeze, and put his lips in her hair for a kiss on the back of her head. “Don’t turn around,” he ordered in a grating voice. “Just listen.”
“O-Okay.” Her calm answer belied the tingling sensation racing up and down her spine. She wanted him to press his body to hers but not being able to see him was killing her.
“Half of every year, I train security dogs for the Justice Agency. In Arizona. You could say those folks are my family. Them and Pops. Pops is my grandfather. He raised me after my parents died in an accident. Any questions you have about my family or Justice, I will gladly answer.”
“Oh.”
“The other half of the year I spend here. In Maryland. Teaching. And … being with you.”
He went silent for a minute. “You okay so far?”
Okay might be stretching it. She was starting to tremble. Pinned to the counter by his nearness, all she could do was attempt to stay standing. Everything else was gravy. “Yes.”
He let go of her arms and wrapped both his around her waist, pulling until her back was nestled to his front. Being barely dressed made the contact seem shockingly hedonistic.
“I feel like I’m living in limbo with both parts of my life. I love being in Arizona. But … I meant it when I said I missed you.”
“Brody,” she choked out.
“Let me finish.”
With her hands on top of his, she held on tight. A heavy fluttering assailed her stomach, and she didn’t know how to just stand there and listen. Old fears nipped at her ass. Her failings were going to hurt him. That much she was sure of. But she couldn’t stop what was happening. And didn’t want to.
“I shouldn’t have let this go on as long as it has.”
Heather gasped. What the hell did that mean?
“Letting it seem like all we had was sex was a bonehead blunder on my part. You hide behind that farce, honey. We both know it.”
Feeling the blunt statement’s honesty straight through to her bones, she groaned. Oh, no.
“It’s weird, isn’t it?” he asked with a gentle squeeze. “Knowing so much about each other. Maybe that’s why we find it hard to share the other stuff. That’s what you meant before. I get it, m’lady. I do. But things are changing. They have to or else we never move forward as individuals.”
She snorted a reply.
“Therapy speak.”
He laughed too. “I know, right?”
There was something she wanted to say. Something she needed to add. “I haven’t been to group in months,” she admitted in a hushed murmur.
“Is that why you had an attack?”
“No. I mean, maybe. But in a good way.”
“Care to explain?”
“I will if you let me turn around.” Having her senses cut off was making her more jumpy than usual. How could she weigh his facial expressions and judge his body language if she couldn’t see him? It was driving her crazy that he crushed her against him, a control position coming at her from behind. He knew he was challenging her.
“No. I don’t want you to turn around.”
She struggled briefly—a reflex.
His deep chuckle made her shiver. “Surrender.”
Her heart did a somersault, but she complied, more or less. When she relaxed, the sinking feeling returned. Pushing against him gave her comfort. She nervously laid her head back on his shoulder and let everything she was feeling have free rein.
“Good girl,” he murmured. “Now, tell me why you haven’t gone to therapy, and why you think that’s a good thing.”
She took a deep breath and let the words come. “Picked up two newbies after you left last summer. Along the way, one of them called me a widow.”
His deep sigh was like a warm blanket for her soul.
“Just because the guy I married is dead does not make me a widow. I divorced his miserable ass long before he met his maker.”
“Bob didn’t shut that shit down?”
“No. I don’t know what happened.” She shrugged. “Maybe he was distracted or didn’t hear.”
His chest rose and fell a bunch of times. She could feel the tension in his torso. Brody knew she specifically abhorred that term. It was like hitting the pity party jackpot, and people immediately felt sorry for you. But she didn’t want or need anyone else’s emotional bullshit. Not after what Jason put her through. She was divorced. Period. Case closed.
“I guess it was right after that when I felt like, maybe, group wasn’t doing much for me.” She lowered her voice. “It wasn’t the same without you.”
Sanctuary (Family Justice Book 3) Page 9
