Page 51 of Rescuing Brinley

Shadow hated that, even now, she didn’t seem to believe his compliments. Her sister and mother had done one helluva number on her, and if it was the last thing he did, he’d make Brinley see herself the way he saw her. As a beautiful and sexy woman who turned him inside out simply by being herself. It didn’t matter if she put more effort into her appearance, as she had tonight, or if she was wearing ratty old sweats and hanging out on a lazy Sunday afternoon.

He put a finger under her chin and gently encouraged her to look up at him once more. He leaned in and brushed his lips against hers gently. “You’re beautiful,” he whispered against her lips. “It’s not the dress. Or the hair. Or the makeup. It’s you.”

He didn’t give her a chance to brush off his compliment again. He took her hand in his and led her to the crowded table. Cypress was talking with Echo and Torch, acting as comfortable as if she’d hung out with their group for years, rather than just meeting them for the first time minutes ago. She seemed to have confidence in spades.

Though Shadow couldn’t help but notice how tightly she was gripping the pint glass in her hand.

His gaze met Echo’s, and he knew his friend had noticed, as well. How Cypress seemed comfortable and relaxed on the outside, but was obviously feeling uneasy for some reason.

He pulled out a chair between his own and Kodiak’s, and waited until Brinley sat down before taking his seat.

“Hey, Little Red,” Kodiak addressed Brinley with a smirk.

She rolled her eyes. “Hey, Big Red.”

Shadow had almost decked his friend the first time he’d called Brinley the nickname, but was relieved when she’d immediately tossed out one of her own. They both had red hair, and Kodiak was, in fact, a very big man. Not overly tall at six feet, but he had muscles for days.

The rest of the team greeted Brinley, and soon the conversation around the table was as lively and friendly as always. Shadow leaned back and enjoyed the moment. Sitting with his arm around Brinley and loving how she seemed to enjoy interacting with his friends.

The bar was busy but mellow. There wasn’t loud music playing, the lighting was dim but not dark, there weren’t darts or pool tables. It was just a place for people to relax, have a few drinks, and unwind after a stressful day at work. Or to hang with friends. It wasn’t exactly a hook-up bar either. There weren’t a lot of scantily dressed women looking to get lucky or smarmy men hoping for one-night stands.

It was quintessential Alaska. With a huge moose head over the bar, the servers wearing jeans and flannel shirts, wooden planks on the walls and floors, and dollar bills tacked up on every available surface. Most signed, some foreign currency, and even a few fives, tens, and twenties. Shadow didn’t know why people liked to do that in a lot of the bars he’d been to in Fairbanks, but he hadn’t hesitated to add his own to mix the first time he’d visited The Staggering Moose.

“Did your training go okay today?”

Shadow turned to Brinley. She wasn’t asking the table in general, her voice was pitched low and she was speaking just to him.

“Yeah. Almost lost someone though. Guy thought he was all that and a bag of chips, and was annoying the rest of his platoon with his need to always be right and because he was bossing everyone around. So we blindfolded him, drove him out to the middle of nowhere, and left his ass there. Zero was on him—meaning he was actually out there with him, without the guy’s knowledge, making sure he didn’t do anything stupid enough to get dead. It took him three hours to go one mile in the bush. Taught him a good lesson. He was much more agreeable and humble after that. It can be disorientating to be in the middle of the woods, and even more so in the winter, when everything is covered in snow. A soldier has to rely on their instruments and skills to get them to where they need to be in a timely manner.”

“I guess so. He really didn’t know Zero was there?”

“Nope. He’s one of our best at surveillance. He’s like a ghost.”

“Shouldn’t his name be Ghost then?”

“Nope. There’s another guy who was a Delta, retired now, but his name is Ghost, and no one wants to use the same nick as someone who’s as legendary as the original Ghost was.”

“I guess I could understand that. But surely not everyone who’s a Delta has different names.”

“No. But there are some names that just aren’t used because of the reputations of the men who had them first. How was your day? Did you finish that gown you were working on?”

Shadow didn’t feel weird in the least talking about fashion and dresses and sewing with Brinley. It was what she loved, and what she was good at, and he enjoyed watching her face light up when she talked about her designs.

“I did! And I think it turned out really well. My client is going to love it…I hope.”

“She will.”

“I signed a new client today, as well.”

“That’s awesome.”

“Yeah. She was in Fiji and really liked the outfits I designed for that pageant. We’ve been emailing, and I agreed to take her on.”

“Do you know her?”

“Not in the sense you’re talking about. But I did research her. I don’t just take on anyone. Natasha, that’s her name. Natasha Blue. She wasn’t participating in the Miss Globe competition but was there watching. She’d just left before those guys burst in and…you know. She’s eighteen and hoping to move into more professional and competitive pageants. She’s not as tall as a lot of contestants, around five-eight, blonde, with a tiny waist and big boobs. That might sound like a good thing, but it makes it more difficult to design gowns that don’t make her look too top-heavy. She’s into philanthropy, organizations with kids and trying to get rid of all the plastic that goes into landfills. I found some clips of her at other pageants, and I think she really does have what it takes to win bigger competitions. I’m excited to help her.”

“That’s great, hon. Happy for you.”