Part of me wants to run out and shove him out of the way so I can double check that it’s my brother with the bloody nose.
But the other, much stronger, part of me can’t freaking move, drawn into the commanding presence of the man.
He’s over six-foot, with jet black and gray hair poking out from his hat. Everything about him screams that he’s in charge from the way he walks with broad shoulders erect, the way his jaw appears to be perpetually set, and the razor-sharp focus of his light eyes.
And my body stupidly reacts.
Jeez, what is wrong with me?
I shake it off, but by the time I rip my eyes from the hot cowboy, everyone is out of sight. My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I pull it out in frustration.
Oh shit. Lunch break is over. Time to get back to grading essays…
And then it hits me.
I know how to get closer to the Bradfords.
Chapter 7
Bradford
“Why are we doing this again?”I turn to Molly as we walk up the steps to theProsperity Garden, which I swear has given me food poisoning more times than I ever want to talk about.
“Dad,” Molly grabs my arm and shakes it. “You’re being supportive, remember?”
“Right,” I grin at her, and then grab the door handle. “I thought I was just coming because I like to torture myself.”
She rolls her eyes, but the edge of her mouth lifts in that little half-smirk she inherited from her mother. “You only have to be here for like an hour. Then you’re free to go bury yourself in your emails or whatever it is you do that makes you come home at four in the morning with a bunch of muddy dudes.”
“Ha ha,” I give her a look as she steps into the restaurant, choosing not to indulge in the remark. I know she’s curious, and I can’t blame her for that—but it’s better to avoid the topic for now. Especially right before an awkward family dinner.
As soon as we step into the place, I spot Maren, my ex-wife, sitting at one of the fair booths. Her caramel-colored hair is pulled back in a nice updo, and she looks pretty happy, grinning at the guy with a military fade beside her.
Just her type.
I purse my lips as I follow Molly, who’s leading the charge. Maren and I have a decent relationship. I’m aware it took two to break our marriage. The deployments didn’t help.
Well, and neither did her fucking Molly’s pediatrician.
But that’s water under the bridge now.
“Calvin,” Maren shifts her gaze to me, her brown eyes widening. “I’m shocked that Molly actually convinced you to come.”
“You know she’s pretty persuasive.” I give her a pleasant smile, and then turn to the guy beside her. “And you are the new boyfriend?”
“Oh my god, Dad,” Molly mumbles under her breath.
“That’s me,” the guy stands to his feet and offers his hand. “I’m Mark Lawson.”
I eye his hand, and then force myself to take it. There’s something that disgusts me about shaking people’s hands. I don’t know why we adopted that gesture.
You never know what they’ve touched before they touch you.
“You’re Calvin Bradford,” Mark says when I don’t offer anything else up. “You had a hell of a career. I read about you.”
“Huh.” I let Molly slide into the booth, and then I take a seat beside her as Mark sits back down, too. “Didn’t know there was any reading material out there on me.”
“It’s just an old article from 2008.” Mark leans in a little, lowering his voice like he’s sharing a secret. “Was about that firefight you were in, Helmand Province. Nawa District. The one where your squad got pinned down by that machine gun nest.”
