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“I will endeavor to steer clear of as many hot ovens as possible.” I laugh, grateful I can always count on my brother to make light of a tense situation. “Or, at the very least, take appropriate precautions.”
“And I will endeavor to steer clear of as many bullets as possible.” His expression falls as he swallows hard.
While he may have volunteered for one last deployment, the reality he’s as likely to be injured or killed as anyone else is starting to sink in.
“Or, at the very least, take all appropriate precautions.” He grits a smile as he pulls me in for another hug. “I promise I’ll come home in one piece,” he says in a strained voice that causes my emotions to spill forward.
“You’d better,” I choke out, tears staining his t-shirt. “Or I’ll be so bloody mad at you.”
He barks out a laugh. “And the last thing I want is to suffer your wrath.”
“Good.” I hug him tighter, knowing it’ll be several months until I’m able to again. I refuse to consider the alternative.
“Pardon the interruption.”
I tear away from Anderson, convinced my mind’s playing tricks on me.
It’s not the first time this has happened.
Since Adam’s death, I hear his voice everywhere.
But this time, it’s not just a memory. This is real. Sort of.
It may not be Adam, but Creed’s voice has always sounded a lot like his brother’s.
And when my eyes fall on Creed as he stands in the doorway of Anderson’s apartment, posture straight, expression stoic, clad in the same dark suit all members of the elite protection squad wear, it’s like I’m staring at Adam’s ghost.
“I’d like to speak with you, if you can spare a minute,” he states evenly.
I nod, then glance at Anderson. “I’ll give you two some privacy.” I start across his living room.
“Actually, I’d hoped to talk to you,” Creed interjects before I can take another step.
Anderson and I share a look, both of us surprised. He arches a brow, silently asking if I’ll be okay.
I give him a reassuring nod. “I’ll be out in a minute.”
“Okay.” He makes his way toward the door, briefly shaking Creed’s hand before leaving us alone for the first time since I broke his heart.
Since Adam died.
Since so many things died.
He looks good. Well, he always looks good. But seeing him in the dark suit makes him even sexier.
Until now, I thought the pinnacle of his sexiness was Creed Lawson in his military dress uniform. Or even his military fatigues, biceps stretching the arms of his t-shirt.
But the way he fills out his suit should be a crime.
“I wanted to wish you well in culinary school,” he says formally.
I hate everything about this. Hate how stiff he is around me. How awkward I feel around him.
Mere weeks ago, I didn’t struggle with what to say to him. Being with Creed was as natural as breathing. Now I feel like I’m being pulled under a riptide, every breath hard-fought and painful.
“I should offer you my congratulations, as well,” I respond brightly. “I understand it’s no longer Lieutenant Lawson but Captain Lawson.”
He nods. “I was promoted on my induction date.”
