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I move to stand. “I’m outta here.”
“Calm your ass down,” she growls, pulling me back to sit. “It was cute.”
“I was just trying to be friendly.”
Jones turns to me, his red hair firing off in the glint of the sun streaming through the windows. “You getting much action in the clinic?”
“Some,” I say honestly. I’ve been trying my best to deal with the state of the soldiers that grace our tables. A bullet and shrapnel can turn flesh and bone into a jigsaw puzzle. The first week, I’d been dazed by it. Jones seems to read what I’m not saying.
“It must be rough stringing us all back together, am I right?”
It’s then that I see a shrapnel scar on his neck. He’s seasoned, then—this deployment isn’t his first rodeo. My respect for him grows.
“Yeah, I’m still trying to get used to it, to be honest.”
“I have a feeling they’re more afraid of you.” The smooth voice doesn’t belong to Jones, but to the man I’ve just been humiliated by.
And I’m immediately back on the defensive. “And you know this because?”
Briggs shrugs, and I become mildly distracted by his build. I’m only human, and his body is impressive. From his trim waist to his pecs, every single one of his muscles is bulging and defined. I find the flare of muscle on his sides that lead up to his shoulders the most fascinating. The man has never missed a workout in his life. He cuts through my thoughts.
“Could be that ‘eat shit’ demeanor you have going on, Scottie,” he says, holding my gaze when I reach his.
“Maybe that’s just the vibe you’re getting from me. You know, to eat shit.”
“I ate fried maggots in the Philippines. I’m pretty sure that’s close enough to shit, so I’ve got you covered.”
My lips turn up in time with his.
“Thatta girl,” he says, slipping on his headgear. “You see that asshole over there?” He points to the other side of the ring. I see a guy a little taller than Briggs being taped up.
I tilt my head and lift my eyes, having no idea where he’s going with this. “Yeah?”
“I’m going to kick his ass,” he says then slides in his mouth guard, extends a glove toward me, and muffles out, “For you.”
“No thanks,” I say waving him away.
“Oh, damn,” Mullins whispers low beside me. I burst out into nervous laughter, and she does too.
The ego on this guy.
I straighten my shoulders as his eyes grow dark. He’s not a fan of being laughed at. I shrug. “Sorry, Briggs, but you should know better than to waste your best line on a married woman.” My thumb tickles the finger where my band is missing.
He spits his guard out with a chuckle. “Rest assured, Scottie, I’m fighting for your honor with the purest of intentions.”
“Really?”
“Briggs, get your ugly ass in the ring!” Someone shouts from the stands on the other side.
He lifts his glove in that direction, and I’m positive he’s giving the guy the finger. I can’t help but smile. He’s the perfect picture of an American soldier: strong, virile, and confident, with a healthy dose of cocky.
He turns back to me. “As I was saying—”
Morrero speaks up next. “Yeah, yeah. Man, get your ass in there and fight.”
Briggs ignores him, and his eyes cover me in a brief sweep. “He called you frozen.”
“What?”
“Ice Princess,” Morrero mutters.
“Then I’ll kick his damn ass myself if you can’t take him.” The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them. Mullins and Jones both turn back to me, laughing, as Mullins looks pointedly at Briggs. “Briggs, she’ll meet you, tit for tat. You’re out of your league.”
“Nah,” he says, winking at me. “That was fucking permission.” Without waiting for my reply, Briggs gestures to the guy who taped him and puts the guard back in his mouth.
Minutes later, I’m enthralled as he throws the first punch.
“Holy fuck,” Mullins gasps beside me.
I can’t even lie; the man delivers punches like I imagine he does bullets. He’s a born fighter.
Morrero looks back at Mullins pointedly. “If you think that’s impressive, I can do you one better.”
“Oh yeah?” she asks, and I see a tinge of a spark light in her eyes. I know that look.
“He’s middle. I assure you, I’m a heavyweight.”
Jones shakes his head. “I’m pretty sure I just puked in my mouth.”
Mullins rattles off some Spanish to Morrero, and his eyes light with the same spark. I took French in high school, so I’m clueless.
“Any idea what they’re saying?” Jones pipes up from below.
“None,” I reply as Briggs throws a killer right hook and it dazes his opponent.
“He really is good,” I hear myself say.
“There’s no other man in the world I want fighting with me when I hear those snaps.”
Snaps. He’s talking about the sound of a bullet whizzing past him. I try to picture myself in that situation as Briggs delivers what would be a knockout punch if they didn’t have gear on. His opponent instantly taps out. As the crowd of mixed military cheers for his victory, he pounds his gloves together, his golden eyes filled with pride. In this moment, I believe Jones.
Chapter Four
Katy
“Scottie,” Jones calls after me as I’m exiting the clinic after a backbreaking day.
“It’s Scott,” I correct with a smile.
He nods. “How are you doing?”
“Good. Exhausted. How was patrol?”
“Same shit, different day,” he says as we pass the mess hall.
“That’s a good thing, right?”
“Yeah,” he agrees. “I’m working really hard to dodge the snaps this time.”
“More boring the better then, huh?”
“You said it,” he says. I can tell he’s trying to rally. We’re both having a hard time being away from home, and I’m sure it’s the reason he’s approached me.
“So, what’s up?”
“Came to invite you to a poker game.” His eyes light with mischief. “Mullins is already in on it, and I thought I’d come by to see if you wanted to join us.”
My bones are aching at this point, but after the day I’ve had, I’m anything but ready to go to sleep.
“Sounds fun, actually.”
“Briggs has managed to swipe some hooch from one of the Rangers.”
“Briggs is there?”
“Yeah,” he says with a frown. “That a problem?” He reads my indecisive expression. “Trust me, I’ve known the guy forever. He’s harmless. Don’t let him get under your skin.”
“He’s just so…” I can’t think of the words to describe the animosity I feel toward him.
“Blunt?” Jones chimes in. “Yeah, he’s not really about the bullshit, but if you give him a chance, I promise you there’s more to him than his rampant mouth. Besides, there’s booze, and you look like you could use a drink.”
“Yeah, I could.”
“Come on,” he says as he leads me through base to the Ranger tent. As soon as we step inside, I hear my name.
“Scottie!” Briggs greets. My eyes follow his voice to find him at the table with a handful of fanned cards, and a playful light in his eyes. “Come on over. I’m sure these two need a good nurse by now.”
“I’m a damned good nurse,” Mullins scorns as she throws back a shot out of a Listerine bottle cap. “And you’re cheating.”
“You sit on a throne of lies,” Briggs replies, laying his cards down as the rest of the table groans at the sight of his winning hand. “You ladies never had a chance.”
“There’s only one lady at the table, asshole.” Morrero slaps his hand on the table to protect his stash of Now and Laters as I pull up a chair.
“That remains to be seen,” Briggs replies, snatching the earned candy out of Morrero’s reach.
