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A breath passes between us before my defiance—and love and loyalty for Gavin—wins. “I’ve never been so turned on in my life,” I admit. “I can’t wait to go home and take it out on my husband.”
Briggs lets out a long exhale, nods, and walks away.
The next morning, I wake up cranky. Only after the sun beamed under the tent seams did I fall into sleep. I can’t even bring myself to get excited about the mission because it means I’ll have to face Briggs. An unsurprisingly chipper Mullins and I scarf down a quick breakfast before heading out to the Humvees. I should be more nervous, but I’m surprised to find I don’t have much reservation. Well, other than facing Briggs. Maybe it’s because I know that we’re in good hands. I trust my friends.
Friends.
Whether intentionally or not, we blurred that line last night.
When the trucks come into view, I reach out and squeeze Mullins’s hand, feeling her pulse pounding as wildly as my own.
“You nervous?” my best friend asks.
“A little,” I answer, honestly. “You?”
She shrugs. “A little. Kinda feel like throwing up, actually.”
I steal a glance at her face and notice she is looking a little pale. My head swivels side to side. “Don’t do this, girl. Don’t back out on me. I need this mission. It’ll be fine.”
She shakes her head. “You’re right…let’s do this.”
There’s my girl.
The guys wait next to the truck. Morrero and Jones greet us as Briggs talks to one of the clinic staff, signing off on some extra supplies. He glances away from the clipboard and catches my gaze. Something in the way he hesitates tells me he wants to talk, but I quickly avert my eyes to avoid said conversation. If it’s another apology, I don’t want to hear it, and I don’t want to talk about what almost happened last night. I want to forget it. I’m happily married, and no more explanation is needed. If the subject ever comes up again, it will be all too easy to let him know it. I’d been a fool to entertain a flirt, and it hadn’t been harmless. In fact, it had backfired in the worst way. In a fit of anger with myself, I’d written a devotional letter to Gavin, just to try and absolve myself of what I did feel, which is the worst kind of guilt. Thinking and doing might be two different things, but I’m pretty sure the guilt feels the same. I can’t erase it, but I can damn sure steer clear of Briggs. And I swear as he pulls himself into the driver’s side of that Humvee that I will.
“Hey, Jones,” I greet as I settle in the seat beside him.
He smiles warmly. “Scottie.” Jones dips his head. “Finally breaking outta this joint?”
My heart pounds wildly with anticipation. “Finally.” I can’t even feign an amiable smile as I feel Briggs’s eyes on me in the rearview. Everything in me wants to scream at him to stop, so instead, I stare at my boots.
Briggs cranks the engine, and my entire body shakes with the force of the vibration.
He turns his head to the side, smiling at Mullins and then at me. “How do you make five pounds of fat look good?”
I can feel Jones’s body tremble with laughter beside me. No doubt he’s heard this one before.
He hasn’t even put the truck in drive, and he’s already starting. What I admire most about his personality has become infuriating.
Ignoring the bait, I look out the window, but I can still feel his eyes on me. I can also feel Mullins’s glare from the front seat. “How?” she asks in a manner that suggests, ‘my best friend is an asshole.’
Briggs turns back to the front and answers in a tone that lets me know I took the wind out of his sail, and my message was received. “You give it a nipple.”
Chapter Nine
Briggs
She won’t look at me, and I can’t even handle that. But I know it’s for the best, though it feels like shit.
Fuck.
I’ve got to push those thoughts aside and focus. I have a job to do.
She’s married.
Why did I have to open my mouth and tell her about the mission? Regret-filled boulders sit on my shoulders as I eye her in the rearview and she keeps hers cast down.
Get it together, Briggs.
I can tell that the girls are a bit nervous, especially Mullins. So, I do what I always do when times get uncomfortably serious and crack a joke. Mullins slaps my arm with a laugh, but blondie in the back just rolls her eyes. One day those things are gonna roll right out of her snooty head.
We are nothing alike, but I’ve never in my life been accused of being a lousy judge of character. She’s the type of woman who puts family and country first, the kind that, if you’re lucky enough to find, you marry.
That’s why she’s already been snagged and married, dickhole.
She also has a stick up her ass ninety percent of the time. But that other ten—I pride myself on being the one responsible for making her smile. Well, except for this morning. This morning she was pissed. I meant what I said, I am sorry for the way I acted. And even though I’m positive there’s attraction there, I’m leaving it alone. I’m not going down that fucking road for any woman. It’s obvious she doesn’t want an apology or to talk to me at all, for that matter. And as much as I hate to admit it, it’s for the best.
But if I have to deal with watching her for the day, and she’s coming on my invite, she damn sure isn’t getting away with ignoring me. “Oh, come on, Scottie,” I say, putting the truck into drive. “That was good.”
I steal another glance as she purses her lips. “Wasn’t your best, Briggs,” she taunts half-heartedly. I know the fact that she’s speaking to me at all is just for show. She doesn’t want to raise suspicion, but the truth is, we didn’t even touch, and that took a fuck-ton of restraint on my part. I can’t remember a time in my life where my dick has been that hard. Her whimper alone will haunt me for years. I had to rub it out twice after leaving her, just to calm down. No, we won’t be friends anytime soon, not with that kind of fire between us.
Challenge accepted.
“What would happen if the pilgrims killed cats instead of turkeys? Mullins?”
“No idea.”
“Jones?”
“Not a clue.”
“Come on, Scottie,” I tease as she glares at me in the rearview. “What?”
I lock eyes with her in the mirror before answering, “We’d eat pussy every Thanksgiving.”
Her mouth falls open for just a moment, and I brace myself for the tongue-lashing she’s about to deliver. I think Scottie surprises us both when she snorts out a laugh. I damn near let out a sigh of relief. Finally. “That’s your worst yet,” she mutters as she glances back out the window.
“I’ll do better, I promise.” Briefly, she meets my eyes before giving me a solemn nod. It’s not much, but it’s something. I don’t need an entanglement with a married woman, and the last thing she needs is me. From this moment forward, I swear to stop whatever it is I started with my bullshit. Scottie really is a good woman. And in different circumstances, if she was free, I have no doubt she could change the game for me. But as things stand, it’s already over. I’ve got enough blood on my hands to deal with and don’t need that shit on my conscience.
Regardless of my new disposition toward the infuriatingly beautiful blonde, I would protect her at all costs. My budding relationship with these two women, and the bit of anxiety I feel rolling off them, only confirms my opinion that females have no place in combat. I’m aware of how they both feel, especially Scottie. She wants to get out and get her hands dirty…to be on the field, where the action is…to make a real difference. It’s not that I don’t think they’re capable. I’m not a chauvinist, despite what Scottie may think. But I’d never have been able to concentrate, knowing those girls were anywhere nearby. My need to protect them would hinder my own performance, and I am secretly thankful that they can’t come along on any other missions.
“What are they like?” Scottie asks no one in particular.
“Who?” Her question takes me by surprise. I was certain I’d have to fight for her every word with the way she’s been acting this morning.
