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“Holy shit! You must be serious about this girl! You’ve never used Mom against me.”
“Damn skippy I’m serious about Des. So don’t fuck this up for me by being an ass. I can fuck it up enough all on my own, Evan.”
A devious smile spreads across his face, and I know I’m really in for it now.
“Should I start shopping for rings for you two? Maybe book a little white chapel? Better yet, maybe I should call Mom and tell her you’re thinking about finally settling down.”
Pointing my finger at Evan, I warn, “You call Mom about Des, and I’m gonna tell Ice I caught you staring at his ol’ lady’s ass the last time we were in After Midnight.”
Evan pales. “You wouldn’t.”
It is hard as hell, but I manage not to laugh at his expression and keep a considering look on my face, as if I’m really contemplating it.
“Don’t worry too much. I don’t think Ice would fuck you up too badly since you make him so much money flashing that pretty, little face of yours to horny women. But I’ve seen firsthand that he can be supremely creative when it comes to punishment.” Given Evan knows Ice was on my Army Special Forces team, I need not elaborate beyond the word creative.
Ethan sticks out his bottom lip and gives me the same puppy dog eyes he always uses on Mom. “You would really do that to me? Isn’t it supposed to be bros before hoes?”
I let my stern expression slide away into an easy grin as I fold my hands behind my head. “That’s where you’ve got it all wrong, little brother. Des isn’t a ho. She’s something different, something special, I think. The kind of woman who could put up with an asshole like me: tough, smart, beautiful—the whole package. After spending all this time with her bossing me around and getting me back on my feet, I’ve decided to test the waters and see if she’s got what it takes to be an ol’ lady.”
“You sound like a man on a mission.”
I give him a nod. “It’s the most important mission I’ve ever committed to: protect and win over Drill Sergeant Bust My Balls.” I smile. “I plan to give it my all.”
~Desirae~
I run the trail around the complex, enjoying the view of the lake, the fresh Florida air, the sun shining down, and time to myself. I focus on the sound of my feet slapping against the asphalt beneath me. The steady thump, thump, thump of my pace is almost hypnotic. I know I should be hyper aware of my surroundings, but I need a moment to myself, a break from my reality. Just a few scarce moments to lose myself in something.
It is so different here than in North Carolina. I feel out of my element, like an out of body experience, but it doesn’t keep me from appreciating the gorgeous scenery. There are palm trees everywhere, along with bushes and flowers in a variety of colors, maintained by the groundskeepers.
The grass almost seems greener here, too, but the idea alone sounds ridiculous. Maybe it’s not the grass but my perspective of life here. Or could it be Ethan, the man I have been trying to keep at arm’s length who closed the distance between us last night in a metaphorical and literal way that I would have never expected him to?
Slowing for my cool down, I feel like I’m on fire from the heat and the burn I have on the inside for my patient. Waking up in his arms is something I could get used to a little too easily. Once he climbed in bed and I could smell him beside me, something calmed and I slept. For the first time since Suzie, I actually had a dreamless sleep and woke up rested.
Since losing my sister, I keep falling into a never ending abyss of darkness. Why am I here? By my own choices, I left behind the only people I trust to live with and work for strangers. They have been good to me, and I understand now that they would stick their necks out to protect me. But coming here originally, all I had was the word of Tank and his club. I know their word is solid, but everything is slipping around me, and I can’t hold on. I miss the familiarity of what I left behind.
Gripping the burner phone, I dial home for the first time since I came to Miami. Tank answers on the second ring.
“Drill Sergeant,” he quips. “You calling to bust my balls? I’m pretty sure we lined you up with someone else to torture.”
“Tank,” I sigh, finding comfort in the familiar.
“You okay?”
“No.” Then I stop myself. It’s not fair to drop anything on his plate. After all, I am here because of my wishes, not his. “Yes, I’m okay. I’m just missing everyone.”
