by Tawny Weber
She looked at the pages spread over the table, the tidy list of orders color-coded by type and arranged by date. She’d spent the morning on the phone with wholesale suppliers, thrilled to be able to rattle off her business information and place orders.
She should be ecstatic.
Sure, her father wasn’t talking to her. They’d actually passed on the street the day before and he’d pointedly looked the other way. It was almost funny. In a holy crap, are you kidding with the immaturity kind of way.
And yes, her mother was calling daily to keep Genna in the health-crisis loop. The hospital trips, a migraine and a cold in the last week. Her last message had included a warning that if Genna didn’t do something about her stress-inducing behavior, she’d be forced to take drastic measures. Since she hadn’t included details on what those measures might include, Genna had ignored it.
Because her business rocked and her love life was a dream come true.
Well, to be precise, her business had the potential to rock, if it didn’t fall apart. And while her sex life was amazing and her heart was happy, there was something nagging in the back of her head.
Brody was leaving the navy?
Why?
She’d asked, but all he’d say was that it was time.
That was good, right?
It’d be so much easier to have a relationship with someone who was actually around, instead of off fighting secret missions most of the time. He’d be safer here. Nobody would try to blow him up or shoot his leg full of holes. The only secrets he’d have to protect were her recipes.
That was good.
Wasn’t it?
The doorbell chimed, loud and distracting.
Grateful for the interruption, Genna almost ran for the door, her stockinged feet sliding on the hardwood. Please, let it be someone with an elaborate baking order that would require a lot of focus and attention. Or anyone she wasn’t related to who didn’t want to talk about her family issues.
She pulled the door open to a blast of cold air and a total stranger. Frowning, she shifted her grip on the door so it’d be easy to slam if necessary.
The guy looked as if he could be plenty dangerous, but he didn’t appear to be a threat. Supershort brown hair, blue eyes and a friendly smile, she mentally cataloged as her father’d taught her. About six foot wearing jeans, a black turtleneck and a leather bomber jacket.
Nope, he didn’t look like a threat. But he didn’t look like he was there to order a cake, either.
“Hi?”
“Hi.” His gaze was laser sharp, the inspection quick and impersonal. Still, it left Genna feeling as if he’d just accessed all her secrets, her entire history and her driving record. “I’m Blake Landon. I’m looking for Brody. His grandmother said I might find him here.”
Ahh. Genna’s frown shifted to a smile. The SEAL friend who kept calling Brody.
“He’s not here right now. But I expect him soon. Did you want to leave a message?” She relaxed her grip, letting the door swing open a little more.
Dark brows creased, the guy gave a quick glance over his shoulder at the BMW parked in front of Genna’s house. She followed his gaze to see a woman in the passenger seat. Seeing their attention, the redhead gave a friendly wave.
“My wife and I were hoping to see him. Can you suggest a restaurant or bar in the area? We’ll grab a bite to eat and come back in an hour or so.”
It was three in the afternoon on a Thursday. Too late for lunch, too early for dinner at any place worth recommending. Genna debated for all of two seconds before waving back, then gesturing to her entryway.
“I’m really not sure how long Brody will be, and all I have to serve are desserts. But if you’d like, you’re both welcome to wait here.”
He gave her another one of those laser looks, this one a little more personal with a hint of curiosity. Then he nodded and turned, gesturing for his wife to join them.
“Alexia would like that. She’s a fan of all things dessert. And of Brody’s. So be warned, she’s going to ask a million nosy questions.”
A million?
Before Genna could reconsider, the redhead joined them. Gorgeous and leggy, she wore stunning knee-high black leather boots, jeans and a white wool coat.
“Hi. I’m Alexia. And you must be Genna.” The woman’s friendly smile negated all of Genna’s worries. “I’m so happy to meet you. Brody is one of my favorite people, so I know you will be, too.”
Suddenly at ease, Genna smiled at the friendly enthusiasm and invited them both inside. Within minutes, they were seated around the table. The coffee on, Genna brought plates and a tray of cookies and tarts over.
“Oh, these look wonderful.” Humming a little, Alexia considered her choices. Then, her plate gratifyingly full, she gave Genna a brilliant smile.
“So, let’s chat. You can tell us all the great backstory on Bad Ass, and we’ll bring you up to speed on the last few years.”
“Did you just call Brody a badass?” Genna asked, not sure if she should laugh or be horrified.
“It’s his call sign,” Blake told her quietly, getting up and helping himself to coffee. “It seemed to fit.”
Didn’t it just.
“What’s yours?” she asked.
Pausing in the act of pouring for all three of them, Blake looked her way and grinned. “Boy Scout.”
Genna looked at Alexia, who rolled her eyes again and gave a little shake of her head. So Blake might always be prepared, but if his wife was to be believed, he was anything but a goody-goody.
“You want to know what Brody was like growing up?” Genna asked, trying not to imagine just how ungoody-goody Alexia could coax Blake to be.
“No secrets,” Blake insisted. “Don’t invade Brody’s privacy.”
Alexia rolled her eyes, her mouth too full to talk. Blake looked uncomfortable, as if dishing dirt on his teammate and friend was something he’d only tolerate because he adored his wife.
Genna liked him all the more for that.
“Well...” she said, drawing out the word to its fullest impact while she chose a pecan tart with caramel swirls. Inspecting the golden-brown perfection of it for a second, she raised her eyes and gave Alexia her best gossip face.
“Growing up, everyone in town called Brody a badass.”
Alexia looked blank for one second, then she burst into laughter. Blake, on the other hand, just looked satisfied as he finally took a cookie. As if Genna had passed some secret test.
“Fair enough,” Alexia said, exchanging glances with her husband. Genna envied how they seemed to have an entire conversation between blinks. “So maybe we’ll chat about the SEALs instead. Do you have any family in the military?”
Genna set her half-eaten tart back on her plate and shook her head. “No. My father’s in law enforcement, though. I know it’s not the same, but there is a similar sense of service and focus, I think.”
“There is,” Alexia agreed. “It’s not just a job, it’s who they are. Their identity, their purpose. In a way, it’s their life.”
Genna frowned at the ease of the other woman’s words.
“Doesn’t that bother you just a little? I mean, not that I don’t appreciate what you do,” she told Blake, who didn’t seem at all offended. Then she looked back at Alexia. “But if your husband’s entire world is the military, where do you fit in?”
Alexia’s eyes sparkled as if Genna had just asked the perfect question. If she’d been a teacher, she’d have pulled out a gold star.
“No, no. I said the military was his purpose. I’m his world,” she said with absolute confidence. “But I’m not his priority. Not while he’s on duty, at least.”
The smile the couple shared told Genna that Alexia had no problem demanding all of Blake’s attention when he wasn’t on duty, though.
“And you’re okay with that?” Genna asked, wondering if she could be.
“I wasn’t at first,” Alexia said quietly, her fingers curling over her husband’
s. “I grew up a military brat and was carrying a lot of baggage about it. But even without that, it takes a special woman to be able to handle the secrets, the risks and the long separations. To be able to build a life that fulfills her, but is still dedicated to a long-distance marriage. Military men are strong, but their women are stronger.”
“Really?” Genna’s laugh was a little skeptical, but she couldn’t help it.
“Really,” Blake said, answering for his wife.
She glanced back and forth between the couple, realizing that there was more than one kind of strength. And wondering if she had the kind it took to wait for her man, knowing he was in danger, knowing his duty came first.
“And it’s just that easy?” she wondered.
“Hell, no.”
“Of course not,” Alexia said at the same time. She and Blake exchanged smiles. “But no marriage is easy. Nothing worthwhile in life is, really. But it’s special enough, and we’re strong enough, to make it work.”
Genna tried to absorb that. She and Brody weren’t even close to talking marriage. And he was leaving the navy, so it didn’t matter if she wasn’t strong enough to be a military wife or not. Did it? Or was that why he was leaving? Was it significant that he told her he loved her and that he was leaving the navy at the same time?
“You’re wondering why I’m telling you this,” Alexia guessed.
“Well, yeah.” And when they were done, maybe they could tell her what to do, too. An ironic hope, since she’d spent years trying to get people to stop telling her what to do.
Alexia leaned forward, her face intent as she searched Genna’s. Then, apparently liking whatever she found there, she said, “We want you to help us figure out how to convince Brody not to quit the SEALs.”
13
FUELED BY GUILT over talking about Brody behind his back, and a stomachache from too many tarts, Genna pulled into the dingy parking of Slims. She’d been searching for Brody for the last two hours, and while she couldn’t imagine why he’d want to come here, it was the last place inside city limits she could think of to look.
Parking next to a patch of weeds as tall as the bumper of her car, she puffed out a breath. She hated going in there. Not just because it was three shades of sleazy with a whole lot of gross on the side. But because it seemed to be the epitome of Brody’s late father. Ugly, mean and under many circumstances, plain dangerous.
But two o’clock on a Friday afternoon shouldn’t be bad. She hoped.
Steeling herself, and making sure her Mace was in her pocket, she slid from the car and crossed the gravel lot. She was careful to avoid the multitude of oil leaks—apparently the clientele at Slims wasn’t big on auto maintenance. Pushing the scarred wooden door open, she stopped short inside to let her eyes adjust to the dim light.
Chairs stacked on tables gave testament that someone had at least pretended to clean the floor. The neon signs behind the bar glowed blurrily through a sea of dust motes. Floodlights similar to those she had in her back garden were lit and aimed toward the stage, if that’s what they called the three pallets pushed together in the corner in front of the mike.
But there weren’t any bodies.
Genna considered, then bent low to squint under the tables.
Nope. No bodies.
Dammit. She bit her lip, not sure where to look next. His Harley was still at his gramma’s. So he had to be in town somewhere. Didn’t he? Maybe she should just go home and wait for him.
Except the conversation with Blake and Alexia kept playing through her head, urging her to find him as quickly as possible.
They thought Brody leaving the SEALs was a big mistake. That he was doing it for the wrong reasons, even though neither of them had been willing to tell her what they felt his reasons were.
She knew, though.
When he’d lost his friend on that last mission, he’d lost his faith in his ability to do the job he expected from himself.
What she didn’t know was what to do about that. Trying to help him through the emotional issue was pointless. She knew from experience dealing with her father and brother over the years that since she wasn’t a SEAL, wasn’t military and wasn’t a guy, she wasn’t qualified to try to talk him out of whatever he was feeling.
Until her visitors today, she’d figured that all she could do was be here, support him and then when he was ready to finally talk, listen.
But now she knew she had to do more. She couldn’t let him walk away from something so important to him unless he was really sure.
Unless he had already thought it through and was sure.
And as much as she’d always dreamed of Brody being in her life, she didn’t want it to be at the expense of his own dreams. But if it was something he wanted to do just because, well. that was different.
She shoved both hands through her hair and tried not to scream at the conflicting thoughts battling it out for top spot in her mind.
Then she heard a noise. Her heart skipped. The scraping sounded again off the room behind the bar. Balanced on the tips of her toes, she shifted to run out the door.
Then she heard voices.
Brody?
Panic fled, leaving a frown as she stepped cautiously toward the bar.
As if her movement triggered a signal, Brody and Leon, the bar owner, stepped out. Leon looked bored, as usual. Brody’s face flashed with surprise, then something that seemed like irritation that went too fast for her to be sure before he gave her a questioning look.
“Genna? Why are you here?”
“I was looking for you,” she said, figuring that should be obvious. Her boots sticking to the floor in places, more proof that the chairs on the tables were a fake-out, she made her way across the room.
With each step, tension drained away, both from discomfort of being alone in such a sleazy setting, and from her worry over where Brody had disappeared to. Leaving plenty of room to wonder about why he’d disappeared to here. She’d think it’d be the last place he’d want to see.
“I got stuff to run to the bank. You cover for me?” Leon mumbled, tucking a grungy sack into the front of his pants, then buttoning his flannel over it.
At Brody’s nod, the older man skirted the bar and left, not glancing once toward Genna.
Even though she was apparently invisible to him, she still waited until the door closed before reaching across the scarred bar to give Brody’s hand a squeeze.
Before she could say anything, he asked again, “Why are you here?”
“I told you, I was looking for you.”
“I’ve got a cell phone.” His words were short, his expression stiff. “Just call. Don’t come looking, especially at a place like this.”
Since she didn’t like seeing him in a place like this, she couldn’t blame him for feeling the same. But still, why was he here? Given the history, that his father spent most of Brody’s life here drinking himself to death, you’d think he’d want to stay clear of it, too. Her frown deepened and she glanced at the small room behind the bar, then at the hand-lettered bartender-wanted sign on the stool.
She’d turned her life upside down and quit her job. She’d faced off with her father and offered her mother a silver platter full of health woe excuses. Thanks to Brody, she’d found the nerve to finally move forward with her life.
Her stomach knotted and bile rose in her throat.
And what? Thanks to her, he’d moved back?
She gazed around the dingy bar, the sense of desolation and despair as real as the dust and dirt. Back to this?
She was pretty sure when Prince Charming had ridden in to save the princess, he hadn’t give up the castle to end up in a hovel.
As much as she hated to mess with what had this morning been a pretty awesome outlook for her life, they had to talk. She had to know, for sure, that he was going to be happy with his decision.
Otherwise, she thought as her heart sank into the toes of her sticky-soled boots, there was no hope for them to be happy together
.
* * *
“BRODY, SERIOUSLY. WHAT are you doing here?”
Brody scowled. How the hell had she found him? He suddenly felt dirty. As though every nasty memory he’d had of this place was crawling over him. He figured he’d better get used to it, though.
“Leon had been bugging me to stop by and clear out the old man’s stuff.”
Genna moved closer, standing on tiptoes and making a show of trying to see over the bar.
“His stuff is back there?”
“You heard Leon. He asked me to man the bar for a half hour.”
Her face as distant as he’d ever seen it, Genna took a deep breath, crossed her arms over her chest and gave him a long look. He damn near shuffled his feet, her eyes were so intense. It was as if she was looking inside him. As if she was checking out all his secrets.
He hoped she had plenty of time. He had a helluva lot of them.
“I heard Leon was looking for a new bartender.”
“So?”
“So. Did you take the job?”
Shit.
Brody had spent most of his life answering to nobody. The last ten years answering to the navy. He’d sorta thought this round he’d answer only to himself.
He’d sorta thought wrong. At least, he had if he wanted Genna in his life.
And he did.
More than anything, more than everything, he wanted Genna. Even if it meant trying to justify his decisions. Even the ones he couldn’t quite come to terms with himself.
“I’ve gotta work,” he said, irritated that he sounded so defensive. “Look, this is a good thing.”
Her mouth dropped open and she blinked a couple of times, then shook her head as if clearing a buzz from her ears.
“A good thing? You, quitting the navy. Giving up being a SEAL. To what? Tend bar in the same sleazy dive you grew up over? Why? You missed all the happy memories?”
Damn. She had a smart mouth on her when she wanted. And a wicked way of kicking her point home right where it’d hurt most.
