Page 67 of Brooks

“We will be.”

“Right. You two sleep well.”

I watched Max disappear down the hall. As soon as he was out of sight, Brooks led us away from the bedroom and toward the bathroom.

“Brooks. I want to get into bed.”

“In a minute.”

“Brooks.”

He turned to face me and before I knew it my back was against the wall and his face was a scant few inches from mine.

“Please, Tatiana. Just give me this.”

The look on his face left no room for argument. It was far from anger, not exactly fear, and close to desperation.

“Okay, Brooks.”

He closed the door behind us, locked it, turned on the shower, undressed me, then himself, and pulled us under the spray.

He didn’t talk, he didn’t try to seduce me, though he totally was. He washed my body and my hair. When he was done with me, he quickly soaped up and I found it interesting he washed his hair with bar soap. I’d have to ask him later why he hadn’t used shampoo. Much later, when the foul mood of today and this evening had disappeared.

He dried me off and I tried my best to stand still as his strong hands rubbed me down with the terry cotton fabric. He wrapped a towel around his waist and another around me before he grabbed our clothes and walked us back down the hall.

I had to admit, it had been the weirdest shower I’d ever experienced. It had been nonsexual and platonic but I’d never felt more cared for. And his hands running up and down my body sent sparks to all the right places. I couldn’t help it. He was hot, and even though he wasn’t trying to turn me on, he still did.

We entered the bedroom, and much like the bathroom – minus the locking of the door – he divested me of my towel, walked me to the bed, pulled back the comforter, and waited for me to get settled. All wordlessly. I wasn’t sure how I felt sleeping completely nude, but when Brooks leaned down and gently kissed my lips, my brain went fuzzy. When his lips went to my forehead and they lingered there, all thoughts about anything other than Brooks flew out the window.

He however had no second thoughts about being naked. He dropped the towel, picked up two handguns off the small dresser, and walked back to me, setting one on the nightstand next to my side of the bed. A full body shiver had started when he’d first dropped the towel and his tight ass had come into view. The shiver increased to a five-point-five magnitude tremor when he turned and, gloriously nude, he stood in front of me like a warrior beast palming a gun in each hand. I mentioned naked, right? Completely and totally devoid of clothing. All for my viewing pleasure. The five-point-five tremor turned into a nine-point-two when he placed my gun within my reach. He trusted me. Not just a little bit, but with his life.

In that moment, there was not a single thing that he could’ve done that I would’ve thought was sexier than him believing in me. Even when I still doubted myself, Brooks believed me to be his equal.

A chuckle slipped out and I quickly covered my mouth to stifle the sound.

“What’s funny, Doll?”

“You know, in all the years I was married to James, I’d never allowed him to sleep with a firearm next to the bed. Even before I quit the CIA. When I came home from work, I locked my service weapon in the safe.”

“Why?”

“I guess I didn’t feel safe with a gun on the nightstand while I slept.”

“You know if he wanted to hurt you, he could’ve.”

“I know.” I shook my head at the absurdity of my next statement. “It doesn’t make sense, but I didn’t want to be asleep and vulnerable while he had access to a firearm.”

Brooks had unfortunately gotten into the bed next to me, preventing me from continuing to drool over his perfect body. But his sliding next to me, tugging me closer, and settling me against his chest well made up for the loss of sight.

“Did he ever—”

“No. It was about me, not him, really. Forget I said anything.”

Brooks was quiet for a long time, which regrettably allowed my mind to wander to James and my shitty marriage. Had it been my fault he’d turned into such an asshole? I thought back over our relationship, tried to find a point in time I’d actually trusted him. Even I could admit the whole gun thing was stupid. He was a SEAL, he knew how to handle a weapon and had argued he could do it better than me. It wasn’t that I hadn’t trusted him physically, I never thought he’d hurt me. But emotionally, I’d always known he’d demolish me. I knew he’d been hiding something. Yet another time I hadn’t trusted my inner thoughts.

“I understand what you’re saying,” Brooks’ whisper cut through the silence. “And I want you to know, I have no problem being asleep and vulnerable with a gun within your reach. As a matter of fact, I trust you’d watch over us.”

My hand resting on his chest flexed involuntarily, and if it were possible, I snuggled in closer. He reached down and hitched my leg higher over his thigh and rested his hand near my hip. Our position was intimate. Much different from when the sexual tension was sparking between us and passion was arcing.