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Throughout this, Laurel is keenly aware of how close Brett stays to her side. She’s also keenly aware of how much she is liking his closeness. Now that dusk is settling in though, everyone is gathering around the fire, taking seats on the stone benches encircling it.
“Do you want to stay longer?” Brett asks her, motioning towards the fire.
“At least long enough for another piece of that cake,” she says, a serious look on her face. This earns one of her favorite smirks from Brett as he cuts her a slice and carries it over to a bench, motioning for her to follow.
He waits for Laurel to sit beside him then hands her the plate. “You eat a lot of sugar.”
“That’s why I’m so sweet,” she jokes, peering up at him through her lashes. Brett stills beside her and holds her gaze. Laurel’s heart stutters as she allows herself this moment to study the shades of browns and amber that dance in his eyes, ablaze from the fire before them.
The moment passes when Grey moves behind them, quietly chuckling to himself as he goes. Laurel feels her face redden and she brings her attention back to the cake in front of her. Out of the corner of her eye, she swears she can see Brett smile as he sits back and stretches out, his arms extended and hands resting on either end of the bench.
She isn’t sure when it happens, but as dusk turns to darkness, Laurel finds herself settling into the bench as well. Except, there’s no back on these. And Brett’s arm has gone from the end of the stone seat, to wrapped around her, acting as a support holding her up.
She can feel her eye lids growing heavy, but at this point someone has pulled out a guitar and she’s enjoying herself too much to admit she’s exhausted. Her body weight fully tucked into Brett’s side, she struggles to stay awake. If it’s making him uncomfortable, he doesn’t show it.
Her tired thoughts drift back to Ray’s comment about Brett being a war fighter first, human second. But the man beside her has been considerate towards her all night. Laurel glances up at him, studying his profile. As she does, Brett’s eyes shift to her, and he murmurs gently, “ready to go?”
When Laurel yawns in lieu of a response, Brett stands, pulling her up with him. After a few waves and hat tips signaling goodnight, he leads her back up towards the house, keeping his arm loosely around her. The further they move up the hill, the darker it becomes. She feels clumsy on the dirt path, unable to see the ground beneath her. But Brett holds her steady.He’s just holding me so I don’t fall, she reasons.
“Did you have fun?” he asks as they reach the porch.
Brett’s voice is soft and enticing and she feels like she might melt against him completely if he continues like this.
“I did. Thank you for tonight, for all of this. I hope I’m not too bad of an assignment.”
“Laurel, you feel far from an assignment,” he replies in a whisper. So quiet, in fact, that she almost wonders if she didn’t hear him right. But then they reach the top of the staircase outside her room, and he unwraps his arm from her to open the door, effectively ending the conversation.
7
August turns to September, and Laurel’s stack of reviewed reports grows. But so does her time spent out in the stables. Today, Laurel is out there with fresh apples sent by Mary for the horses. She’s deep in conversation with Opal, the young white mare, debating the merits of apple crunch versus juiciness, when the sound of a door crashing open fills the air. Laurel backs up in surprise as she sees Brett in the entrance.
“There you are,” he growls at her.
“I don’t understand, am I not allowed to be in here?”
“Not when I get a call from Ray that a threat might be in the area and I can’t find you! All I find is a stack of files and a half empty cup of coffee. Tell me, how does that look to you?” He’s crossed the barn and is standing so close she can practically feel the tension rolling off him. “They would have taken you before I could have done anything,” he continues through gritted teeth, attempting to even his tone back out.
“No one has gotten to me.AndI’m not helpless. Besides, it’s not like you are around to check in with!” she bites back at him.
“If you think you can take these guys on, then why are you here?” Brett reaches out and grabs her around the waist. Backing her up against the wall.
Laurel knows he is trying to prove his point. She wouldn’t be able to stop at attacker from grabbing her. But she can’t help noticing that he has his arm cradled around her in a gentle way, despite the anger he’s radiating. And then there was the feeling of his weight against her, filling her with heady need for him.
Laurel wasn’t the type to be overcome with strong attractions or physical sensations. It made it easy to work in a male dominated setting on the base and never be distracted. Since arriving here though, it seemed like she’s been nothing but distracted. Especially now. Pressed against his strong chest, she had to actively ignore the urge to let her hands roam him, the urge to want to feel more of him.
“I wouldn’t be in your way anymore if they got me, no more babysitting to worry about,” she says, trying to break the tension inside her. Brett glares at her in response, his molten eyes darkening. Laurel can feel him tense his hand on her back like he’s trying to get a better hold on her.
Despite her best efforts, her breathing reacts to the movement, becoming jagged and giving away how she wants more of his touch. Because Brett is close enough that the next time he speaks, it’s a whisper in her ear.
“Turns out, I do worry,” he admits, almost as if surprised by it himself.
“Well, you take your job seriously.”
“Something like that,” Brett mutters, releasing her and taking a step away.
“You could teach me how to defend myself,” she suggests quietly, stealing a glance over at him.
“Go stay inside the house until I give the all-clear.”
