eyes and laying down a straight. “I thought your call sign was Bad Ass. Not Superman.”
Despite the misery curled in his gut, Brody smirked.
“Talk it out, hit the gym, visit the range,” Masters suggested, folding his arms over the back of the chair and meeting Brody’s gaze. “But get over it.”
“You been reading psych books again?”
Masters didn’t smile. Instead, he slid his cards together, tapped them on the table a couple of times, then met Brody’s eyes. His own gaze was steady, rock-solid.
“I’m damned choosy about who I serve with. About who I trust to cover my back. I’d serve with you without question,” the guy said, his words too matter-of-fact to be taken as sappy or sentimental. “I have complete confidence, not only in your ability to do your job. But in the simple fact that if I go down, you’ll do everything in your power to get me out. I can’t offer up a higher trust than that.”
They were SEALs. Bred for action. Words were rarely necessary, and other than to geeks like Masters who obsessed with books the way some guys drooled over porn, they didn’t mean much.
But hearing his teammate’s trust, knowing the guy wouldn’t hesitate to take the field with him again, it went a long way to bridging that gaping hole inside Brody. The one he could no longer ignore.
“Thanks.” Taking a deep breath, Brody faced the decision that’d been lurking for the last two months, waiting for him to man up. “But until I know it, too, I’m no good to the team.”
Brody laid down his cards, stood and clapped his buddy on the shoulder, and strode out of the room.
Just before he hit the door, he heard Masters mutter, “Son of a bitch. Royal flush? Does he ever lose?”
12
SO THIS WAS what life was like without daily PT, constant training and an ongoing need to challenge himself to push the limits. No missions, no range practice, no combat.
It was sort of mellow.
Settled on Genna’s couch with her curled up at his feet working on her latest brainstorm, Brody watched familiar scenes flash on the television.
Mellow was an odd speed for him. He wasn’t sure how he felt about it yet.
For ten years, he’d been going at full tilt.
The nineteen years before that had been spent on edge. Always ready to fight, always ready to run.
The last few months felt like turmoil.
But maybe, this week, he’d found peace. Or at least now that he’d pretty much decided his future, he wasn’t battling his own brain. That was close enough to peace, wasn’t it?
The irritating nag of a million doubts ran through his mind, mocking him. Okay, so he wasn’t at peace. So what. It wasn’t as if he’d ever been before.
He was happy, though.
His gaze shifted from the bomb-ravaged scene on the TV to the woman sitting at his feet.
Genna’s hair gleamed like black silk in the lamplight. He could only see her profile, but had to smile at the way her lips were moving as she made silent comments about whatever she was writing. Her enthusiasm, her wholehearted excitement over her new business, was pretty awesome. She didn’t let the obstacles, the issues with her family or the various questions he’d heard tossed her way slow her down. This was her dream and by damn, she was going to make it happen.
She was his dream, he realized.
Not just the hot sweaty kind. Although she’d ratcheted those up a few notches over the last couple of weeks. He’d never been a man who shied away from great sex, but clearly he’d been clueless to just what great was.
But Genna was more.
Sweet and fun, she believed in him. She gave him a feeling of contentment, of happiness, he’d never had. Never even knew existed.
As if clueing in that he was thinking about her, she flashed him a smile.
“Mr. Jenson said you and he had a fun chat today,” she said, looking up from where she was cozied between his thighs in front of the coffee table. She had a slew of papers spread over the surface, notes and sketches, at least three calendars and God knew what else. But it seemed to be making her happy. And that’s what he wanted. Her, happy.
“I stopped in the pharmacy to pick up my gramma’s prescription and he wanted to talk. I guess there aren’t too many people to share his Korean War stories with.”
“Well, there is the VFW and the American Legion. But everyone there has heard his stories. You’re fresh blood. And you’ve got rock star status, being a SEAL and all,” she teased.
Brody hoped she’d take his grimace as a smile.
Rock star.
Right.
That’d change in a heartbeat once word got out that he was leaving the navy. He’d be back to being a loser and deadbeat in everyone’s eyes. Except Genna’s. Which was all that he was going to let matter. He’d rather see the relief in her gaze than the worry he figured would be there if she had to see him leaving on mission after mission.
“How are the business plans shaping up?” he asked, wanting to change the subject.
“I’d thought it’d take a lot longer for word to get out that I’d started Sugar and Spice. I mean, I know this is mostly curiosity and test orders. It’ll level out in a month or so. I just hope it doesn’t level too much lower,” she mused, looking at a list of potential restaurants that were interested in carrying her desserts. “Or that my father would intimidate people out of ordering from me so I’d have to climb back under his thumb. I’m setting up a website. You know, a lot of bakers are having big success with next-day orders. And that way, even if my dad scares away locals, I’m still in good shape.”
Good plan. Then, his brows furrowed, he hit the pause button to freeze Jeremy Renner on the screen.
Would her old man really go that far?
“Have you talked to him at all?”
“My dad? Not since I told him I’d quit my job.” Genna shrugged. “But I have heard from the mayor four times this week.”
“He wants you to come back to work for him?”
“More like he wants me to talk you into changing your mind about being the guest of honor for his Honoring Our Heroes event,” she said, making it sound like a joke.
Brody’s jaw clenched and something ugly churned in his gut. Not happening.
But he’d already told her that a dozen times, so he didn’t bother repeating himself.
As if sensing his irritation, Genna shifted onto his lap. Liking how she fit there, he wrapped his arms around her waist, but his frown didn’t budge.
“You going to be okay with this?”
“With what? Sitting on your lap? Or playing messenger for the mayor?” she asked with a teasing smile.
He didn’t give a damn about the mayor.
“With the crap from your parents. I don’t like you taking heat for seeing me.”
Her sigh was a work of art, complete with a roll of those pretty blue eyes and a tap of her fingernails against his shoulder. Damn, she was cute.
“My father isn’t punishing me for seeing you,” she finally said. “I told you, I’m the one who told him to stay away unless he could accept my career decision. Not the other way around.”
“Are you thinking he’ll try scare tactics when the freeze-out doesn’t work?”
“Maybe,” she said with a shrug. “But I told