Chapter 5

Brooke

“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” I muttered, nine hours later, pushing through the crowd in the front of Bobby’s and making my way down the wood-paneled hallway.

I made it as far as the doorway before my nerves got the better of me. I could see the crowd inside, an open chair at the end of the bar that was secluded and pushed into a corner, just like I preferred. Less chance for human interaction and closer to a wall plug so my laptop wouldn’t be at risk of dying. It also—

“Shit,” I muttered, darting to the side so I wouldn’t get creamed by a couple who was really enjoying their night and thus took no notice of a slightly frumpy, definitely awkward author propping up the frame. I stumbled out of the way, tripping over my own feet, and probably off balance because I hadn’t brought my backpack, but I didn’t take a header, didn’t wipe out on the slightly sticky—ick—wooden floor because warm hands caught my shoulders and steadied me.

My breath hitched.

Kace.

Except when I glanced over my shoulder, it wasn’t Kace.

No. Where Kace was dark hair and olive skin, gorgeous in a Mediterranean way, this man belonged on the cover of a magazine. Deep coffee-colored eyes, lush lips, and giving off serious Idris Elba vibes—and not the Cats version, but the gate-keeping Thor version with the smoldering looks and panty-melting vibes. Anywho, I digress, but the man in front of me was pure sex and his palms were gentle as they brushed up and down my arms.

“You okay, darlin’?” he asked.

And a hint of a southern accent. Hot damn. Move over Kace. This was my next hero.

That was for damn sure.

I nodded, not even giving him lip for the use of the endearment. It didn’t mean anything, not like Kace’s use of sweetheart and baby and all the rest. I don’t know how I knew that. But it was some instinct in me, aided by the fact that this man’s voice dripped honey. Him slipping in a darlin’ here or there was just part of him, part of the southern charm, part of the whole package.

Totally normal.

Unlike me, who was staring at him like an insane person.

“Thank you,” I murmured and stepped away.

He leaned back against the doorway and crossed his arms. “Seen you around here a lot, darlin’,” he murmured. “Just haven’t seen much of that pretty face.”

A charmer, but it was reading as so light and superficial that I didn’t get nervous for a change. Instead, I smiled and shrugged. “It’s got a good vibe for my work.”

The sleeves of his T-shirt rode up when he flexed and as pretty as the lines of his tattoo were floating up his ebony skin, his tats couldn’t compare to Kace’s.

His arm moved again, exposing more of his bicep, and I stopped breathing.

“What kind of work do you—”

He stopped talking, probably because I pushed up the right sleeve of his shirt further when I realized what was there. It had the eagle, the globe, the anchor. It had Semper Fi. But that wasn’t what had made me reach out, what made my breath catch from more than his ridiculous good looks.

There were tally marks below the image.

Tally marks like my brother had inked on his arm below the same tattoo.

Except this one had two additional marks that my brother hadn’t worn.

Because my brother had been one of those two lines.

He was a line.

Hayden had been reduced to a line. My throat tightened, my scalp tingled, and I wavered on my feet.

“No denying I like your hands on me, darlin’,” the man murmured. “But usually I like my women not passing out while they’re doing it.”

My eyes flashed up, meeting his, finally understanding why my gut didn’t burn at his use of endearments, why I knew they were just cotton candy. Because I knew this man. It had been more than a decade since I’d seen him, but I knew him.

“Brent,” I murmured, finally noticing the nametag, finally putting all the pieces together.

Six months, and I’d missed it.

Of course, I’d spent most of that time buried in my laptop and focused on Kace. But for six months, I’d missed that my brother’s team leader was working in this very bar, and—

Brent froze, hands coming to my arms again and crouching a bit to look into my eyes. “Brooke?” he exclaimed. “Holy fucking shit. Brooke McAlister, is that you?”

I nodded, my heart still absolutely aching at the reminder of my brother, and yet it was almost a pleasant ache because Brent was here, and he was okay. My brother wasn’t, but Brent was, and that was a really good thing. “It is.”

“Holy shit, darlin’.”

I smiled. “You said that already.”

“Brookie girl, when did you grow up?”

My smile slipped. “You know as well as I do the answer to that question.”

His face sobered, and he cupped my cheek lightly. “Sorry, Brookie.”

I placed my palm over his. “It’s fine.”

“It’s not fine,” he said. “But I’ll leave it for now.” The teasing light slipped back into his expression as he pulled back, gaze tracing her from toes to top. “Well, ten years or not, darlin’, you’re going to let me take you to dinner.”

And now his expression wasn’t light or teasing, and it definitely wasn’t brotherly like the last time I’d seen him before he and my brother had deployed, a deployment that had led to my twin’s death.

Not during the mission.

In the aftermath of returning to civilian life.

“What are you doing on this coast?” I asked, shaking my head and shoving the memories down. It had taken a long time to lock those memories away, to live my life without shadows and pain, and to find enjoyment in the simple things.

Losing Hayden had changed everything.

“Looking for a good woman,” Brent said with a flash of white teeth. “Just didn’t expect I’d find one so easily.”

I rolled my eyes. “Laying it on thick, aren’t you?”

He grinned again. “I don’t think you’ve seen yourself, darlin’. Do you even look in the mirror because”—his eyes took on that look again, except this time, it was from top to toes—“luscious doesn’t begin to describe it.”

“Yup,” I said, “Definitely laying it on thick.”

Brent waggled his brows. “Thick is how many, many women have described it.”

“Oh my God,” I muttered.

“Yes?”

I smacked him, but my lips were curved, and I don’t think I’d realized how much I’d missed him because having him there in that moment made something settle inside of me. A sharp stake removed, an ache fading away.

Life moving on.

Brent had moved on and so it was okay that I had, too.

“Brent!”

We both turned and saw Kace behind the bar. Even from thirty feet away with about a bajillion people between us, I could tell his blue eyes were flashing and his expression bordered on deadly.

“Shit,” Brent muttered. “I’ve gotta get back to work.”

“I won’t keep you,” I said softly. “He looks pissed.”

“Kace may be an asshole, but he’s my asshole,” Brent said. “Plus, he always looks like that.”

Not from what I’d seen, but I didn’t say that.

“Grab your stool, pretty girl,” Brent said, brushing past me. “I’ll buy you a drink and maybe by the end of the night, you’ll let me buy you dinner, darlin’.”

“Maybe I’ll buy you dinner,” I said.

He laughed, and I followed him to the bar, taking my stool as he paused at the pass-through that led behind it, and doing this while studiously avoiding Kace’s eyes. Brent would get the card for me. I had no doubt about that. I just had to hang out a bit, let him know, and then I could get back to my keyboard.

Good plan, if I did say so myself.

I snagged Brent’s hand as he started to move through, opening my mouth to ask about the credit card, but for some reason, the request didn’t come out. Instead, I nodded to the tattoo on his arm and murmured, “You added him.”

Brown eyes softened. “He was my brother, too.”

My heart clenched. “Thank you.”

His hand turned over so that my fingers laced with his, and he gave them a light squeeze. “Nothing to thank.” A beat. “What are you drinking?”

“I’ve got it.”

Kace.

I jumped when he plunked a glass down in front of me.

“Your end of the bar is swamped,” he growled at Brent. “Get over there.”

Brent didn’t seem to take it personal. In fact, he grinned, clapped his hand on Kace’s shoulder, and took off for his side. “On it, boss.”

Kace rolled his eyes but didn’t comment as Brent picked up a shaker. “Kace!” he called as he filled it. “That pretty darlin’ down there is gonna buy me dinner. Make sure she has a full glass all night, ‘kay?”

I started laughing. The man was ridiculous and had absolutely no shame. Absolutely none at—

I caught the look on Kace’s face.

All right then, maybe not so funny after all.