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And, damn, it was nice to have a team again.
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Once they reached the safehouse, Gray released Aubrey’s hand and she immediately missed its warmth. Though he didn’t always say a lot and could be rather broody, his confident presence was larger than life and spoke volumes. She was willing to bet a man like Gray commanded attention no matter where he went.
He led her through the door, and she came face to face with a small but very badass-looking group of individuals. She immediately stopped in her tracks, not expecting to run into a group who resembled The Avengers. Taking an automatic step back, she bumped into Gray’s brick wall of a chest. The moment she felt his hand settle on her hip, she settled down. The man made her feel safe in every possible way.
“This is Aubrey,” Gray said. “She helped me out when it got too intense back in town.”
They were an intimidating group and she’d never felt so vertically-challenged or out of shape in her entire life. Six feet, two inches seemed to be the average height and their toned physiques made her instantly question all of the fried empanadas she’d devoured over the past year. The lone female among them, who kept swinging a pair of nunchucks, looked just as competent and scary as the men towering above her.
“Thanks for saving Demon’s ass,” the woman with the long, dark hair said, stowing her deadly weapon. “I’m Inda, better known as Bruja.”
“Hi.” Aubrey gave her a shy smile, grateful for the welcome. She couldn’t help but look over at Gray. “Demon?”
He merely grunted in answer.
“That’s his nickname. We all have them,” Inda told her.
“We send him for food and he comes back with a woman. What the hell?” a man covered in tattoos griped. He possessed a slight, undefinable accent and, though bordering on rude, Aubrey couldn’t deny his broody frown was probably sexy as hell to most women.
She, however, wasn’t most women and her focus drifted back to Gray. He was the tallest in the room and she was guessing the oldest. But not because of the slight silver in his hair. He possessed a stoicism that the others didn’t. Gray also seemed experienced in a way that maybe the others weren’t, but she wasn’t sure if that came with age or the battlefield. He was watching her closely with those predatory, amber eyes of his, and a little sliver of heat shot down her spine. What was he thinking?
“Don’t be rude, Saint,” Inda chastised then turned toward Aubrey. “Don’t mind him. His panties get in a twist whenever he isn’t smoking.”
“Why does everyone care about my nicotine addiction? Shut the fuck up about it and let me smoke in peace.”
Inda smirked and the man wearing glasses chuckled. “Because if you die of lung cancer, Saint, we’re going to have to find someone else crazy enough to take your place.” He glanced over at Aubrey. “I’m Zane, but I also answer to Banshee or God’s Gift.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Saint grumbled.
Aubrey smiled, enjoying their banter. It was playful and entertaining, and it helped put her at ease. She and Garrett used to be the same way. God, she missed her older brother. Her heart constricted painfully and she pushed the memories back. Now wasn’t the time and she turned her attention to the final two men.
“Braxton Graves. Otherwise known as Pharaoh.” The tall, slim man reached out and politely shook her hand. His grip was firm, and he oozed confidence and exuded calm, composed vibes. As if nothing could ruffle his feathers. She immediately pegged him as their leader.
“And, I’m Ryland. Better known as Rip.” Aubrey’s attention dropped to his bright-white teeth. With a head of sun-bleached hair that fell in his eyes, the guy was one step away from dreamy. He also wore a band on his left ring finger and she wondered who the lucky woman was. They probably made a gorgeous couple, like the celebs who walked down the Hollywood red carpets.
Gazing down at her below average bust and thicker-than-she-liked thighs, Aubrey tried not to feel bad about herself. She had worked incredibly hard to lose the excess weight she’d gained after Garrett died, when she mourned his loss by eating her feelings, and she recognized that comparing herself to others only resulted in her feeling bad about herself. Because the truth was, there would always be someone thinner and younger.
Comparison is the thief of joy,she reminded herself.
Maybe she’d never be a size zero or ever feel comfortable in a bathing suit, but she’d learned to be okay with that. Her goal was to be the best trauma nurse she could be. And saving lives was so much more important to her than counting calories. She hadn’t been able to help Garrett, no one had, but she’d spend the rest of her life trying to save others. And if a plate of french fries or a bowl of ice cream helped soothe her soul and mind after a rough day of treating patients, she wasn’t going to deprive herself to fit some unrealistic ideal she would never meet.
They began a general conversation about El Escorpión, nothing specific, but she was distracted by thoughts of Gray. Remembering how small her hand felt in his made heat swirl low in her belly. Being with a man like Gray, she’d always feel safe and protected.
While Gray turned his attention to the others, Aubrey took a moment to study him closer. His military-short brown hair was neatly-trimmed, and the bit of silver growing in at his temples made her wonder exactly how old he was. If she had to guess, mid-thirties? Which made her believe the gray was premature and a result of stress or some kind of trauma. His physique certainly spoke a lot about his training and alluded to a much younger man than the gray implied. His eyes, on the other hand, told a bit of a different story. Intense, yes, but also haunted, like he’d seen too much in his life. The short haircut also emphasized his angular jaw, covered in dark stubble lightly peppered with silver, a straight nose and broad forehead.
Her attention dipped to his lips which looked firm, yet soft at the same time. She thought back to that brief moment of connection in her hotel room, and she wondered what kind of kisser he was. How it would feel to be held in those huge arms of his. Chewing on her inside lower lip, she had a feeling his kiss would be a little rough, a tad unrefined and very passionate in that hot, dominating way.
Gray looked like the kind of man who would take control in the bedroom and make a woman submit. Her eyes skimmed lower, admiring the tight fit of his t-shirt and the outline of his ridged abs beneath it. The t-shirt tucked neatly into belted black cargo pants and she quickly checked out his thick thighs and the undeniable bulge in between.
Aubrey was willing to bet his cock was built just as big as the rest of him.
Stifling a shaky sigh, she felt eyes on her and noticed the brown-haired man named Zane smothering a smirk. He’d seen her checking Gray out and her cheeks burned. Why was he amused? Because someone like her would never get a man like him? God, how embarrassing.
No one had to tell Aubrey that Gray was out of her league. She knew it better than anyone, and it was fine. If she couldn’t keep the attention of an average Joe like Scott—the jerk she’d met online—then how in the world would she ever expect to interest a former Navy SEAL built like a Greek god who probably had a string of women panting after him.
A phone began ringing and Aubrey’s head snapped up. “Pyro, talk to me,” Braxton answered in a no-nonsense voice.
