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“I need to take a tour with you,” Bradford said, stepping smoothly between Hastings’ stare and the woman he’d locked onto.
“Let’s do it. Livingston, you coming?”
“Nope.”
She gave him a nod and walked with Bradford back to the door she’d just entered.
“What about me?” Hastings questioned. “Aren’t you going to ask me if I’m coming?”
Livingston cleared his throat, but Hastings watched the doorway and the woman he was going to have sex with.
“Don’t care.” Her answer was tossed over her shoulder as she exited the room, Bradford on her heels, shaking his head at Hastings.
“You’ve got it bad,” Livingston said the moment they were alone.
He stroked his close-cropped beard. “True.” There wasn’t any reason to deny that fact. “Gonna warn me away?”
Livingston sat on the edge of the desk, ankles hooked. “It wouldn’t do a damn bit of good. I wouldn’t let anything pull me from my Peach once I found her again. No way Bradford would let Iris get away. So me telling you to back off is about as smart as trying to carry an ice cube across the Sahara.”
Hastings relaxed the fists his hands had been in.
“But,” Livingston continued, “if you hurt her, you would be hurting our wives, then we’d have to kill you.” The man pinned him with a look that Hastings understood as the complete and honest truth.
“She’s mine,” he blurted, only to shake his head. “It doesn’t make sense.”
“Does with these women and for us. Like a fucking two-by-four cracking you between the eyes. One minute you don’t know it the next, she’s all you can think about.” He pushed up. “Come on, I need your opinion on something.” Livingston was at the door, Hastings on his six, before he could contemplate more about what his brother had said.
* * * *
By the time his brothers left, Hastings felt, well, almost real again, and part of a family. He’d not had time to be with Violet, but he was definitely impressed by how she’d handled everything tossed in front of her. She and Paul worked together like they’d been doing so for their entire lives.
He wouldn’t lie and say it didn’t take every ounce of his control to keep his possessiveness under control when they were together, but he ground his back molars and did what was best for Welcome Home. He wouldn’t let his brother down.
She’d done the intakes on three more veterans who’d come in today and during one he’d sat in on the process, intrigued by how everything was done. And he’d not just walked in, but he’d checked with the veteran to make sure he wasn’t going to be uncomfortable with him there.
Turned out the man had served with Recon for twelve years but hadn’t been able to settle back into civilian life. Violet had been respectful but firm in what was required to stay here. The veteran obviously appreciated that from her and Paul.
As he walked down the hall, he noticed her in one of the vacant rooms, clipboard in hand as she went through the checklist on it. A small smile tugged up his lips. He seemed to do that a lot in her presence. Smile.
Without giving it another thought, he stepped into the room and pushed the barrier closed behind him until it clicked. But he didn’t move from his position by the door.
Her hair had been gathered into a loose bun at the nape of her neck, some adorable purple-and-silver stone clip adding sparkle. He licked his lower lip as he tracked his gaze over her curves. Faded indigo jeans hugged her lower half, blue hiking boots, and on the top of her body—visible as she’d taken off her jacket—was a cream shirt from the Seventies that read Foxy Lady.
Sure as shittin’ is.
“Hello, Curls.”
Chapter Five
Moisture dried in her mouth at the words that fell to her ears. Flexing her fingers on the pen and the edge of the clipboard she held, she took a long slow breath and infused steel into her spine before she lifted her gaze to him.
“Mr. Rhodes. Do I want to know what you’re doing in here?”
His smirk did things to her. Like evaporating her panties. Damn it!
“What are you doing?” He prowled closer before circling her, much like—she assumed—a wolf circling a rabbit, before positioning himself back directly before her.
She stared at the top of her clipboard when he touched it with a single long finger and pushed it down slightly. His nails were short, square and clean. She did notice two of them had bruising on the lower part of the bed.
“Getting the room ready for check-in.” She closed her eyes and tried not to envision those same fingers trailing over her heated skin. “You?”
He pushed his hand in his pocket and she looked up in time to see him shrug. “Was about to head to the hospital to check on Evan. Wanted to know if you’d like to come with?”
