Braxton
I text Diego Hernandez while staring at the monitor in front of me which gives me a view of her living room. She’s curled up on the couch, a throw over her. She’s out cold. I checked her door a few minutes ago, glad that she’d locked it after I left. Despite what her father thinks, Eliana is responsible.
She’s also far too attractive for her own good, even in an oversized t-shirt that barely covered her ass. I’ve had a lot of attractive clients in my time as a bodyguard but remaining professional has always been my priority. Which is why I turned down her offer to dine with her.
I rub my hands across my face and sit back in my chair. After a few more minutes I turn it off and climb into bed.
I’ve been thinking about my time in the service a lot lately. And it’s on a briskly cool morning like today when I’m walking through the busy crowd on the sidewalk, tailing a hung over twenty something, that I miss the thrill of it, the adrenalin coursing through my veins. The honor that comes with doing something for your country is something indefinable. I feel myself dozing off.
“Did you ever think you’d be able to do it?” Dough asks.
I can still feel the weight of the gun in my hands, the look in the man’s eyes as he looked between the gun pointed at his head and me. He’d taken out one of my guys. We go in, and the code is to watch our flanks. He’d mercilessly raised his AK-47, taking out my teammate. It could have been Marcus, it could have been me. I look him in the eye and pull the trigger, the sound deafening.
“No, Dough. I never thought I would.” I joined the Navy SEALs understanding that it would come to this at some point. The point where we’d have to make that choice, us or them. I chose us, and I knew I would make the same decision every single time. “But I’d do it again.”
He sighs in the bunk beneath me. “I would too.”
* * *
Eliana walks into Starbucks, and I follow her in, unable to take my eyes off the skirt that hugs her perfectly in all the right places. She actually says good morning to me these days, so I suppose I can call that progress. After the night we spoke, she’s been pleasant and we even manage to walk together every morning without her complaining about it.
“Coffee?” she turns to me, flicking her hair over her shoulder.
“Black, no sugar,” I say, settling into a booth.
She gets the coffee, setting mine on the table in front of me. “See you later,” She holds my gaze and I can’t help but think that she has the prettiest eyes.
“Sure thing.” I smile.
I watch her cross the street and enter the office building. I managed to get a small microphone into one of the compartments in her bag last night, so I’ll be able to hear everything that goes on in the office. I smirk, wondering what she’ll do when she finds out. Her temper tantrums are undoubtedly amusing.
I place my laptop on the table and read through a few articles on Diego Hernandez. I’d heard about him, men like him have reputations that precede them, but I wanted to know more. My phone rings, and I answer it without looking at the display.
‘Yo, bro,” Bryce greets.
“Hey, man.” My brother sounds as cheerful as ever. I guess I would be too if I was him. Bryce is two years younger than me, a successful accountant and thankfully never followed in our father’s footsteps the way I did. Grunge life was not his thing.
“How’s Mom?” I ask before sipping my coffee.
“She’s pretty good, misses you,” I sigh. I haven’t been home in a long time. “I’m great, too, by the way.”
My brother’s comment pulls me from my guilt, making me laugh. “I was getting there,” I lie.
“Right. Look, I wanted you to be the first to know. I asked Nadia to marry me.”
“Already?” His news takes me by surprise. He’s only been seeing the woman for about six months. I love my brother, but Bryce tends to jump in headfirst and ends up getting his heart wrecked.
“When you know, you know, man.” he explains confidently. “That’s why I’m calling. Our engagement party is in a month, so I need my best man to clear up his schedule and get his ass down here.”
“Best man?”
“Who else did you think I’d ask?” I could think of several guys he could ask. Other more reliable people. People who were there for him when I couldn’t be over the years.
“Bryce, I-” I run a hand across the back of my neck, tension building there.
“It’s not up for negotiation. You’re coming home, and you’re going to be my best man.”
I look at the building across the street, wondering how long this bodyguard detail will last. “Yeah, sure,” I give in. Bryce isn’t just my brother. He’s my best friend. He was there for me when it counted, and I wanted to do the same.
“Sweet! I’ll send you the details and see you in a month, Brax.”
I ring off and open a folder on my laptop, one I haven’t opened in a long time. I scroll through the pictures, letting the familiar ache return. I shut my eyes for a second, then close the folder. There are times when I want to delete it, but I know I can’t.
