Page 8 of Gorgeous

Who would have thought?

After that fateful day in the barn when Theo jumped in front of Anniston, sparing her from a bullet to the chest by taking one himself, I have mad respect for the guy. I almost lost her that day. The day she foolishly helped Lawson, one of our veterans, hunt down a girl he had been following for months, trying to rescue her from the clutches of our local human trafficker. The guilt of my delayed reaction still weighs heavy on my shoulders almost daily. I didn’t jump in front of her, and I was closer to her than Theo was. No, I remained frozen while Lou, the asshole human trafficker in our town, fired off a shot, intending to kill Ans. If it weren’t for Hayes’ quick trigger finger, I doubt Iwould have fired my weapon in defense.

I failed my family.

Again.

“Who’s Andrew and why do you have his dog tags?”

I snap to attention at the mention of Drew’s name. Theo’s rifling around in my stuff, which iscommon, winding the beaded chain around his fingers. Dammit. How could I be so careless? I always keep them tucked underneath the mattress where prying eyes can’t see, but I was in a bad way last night. It was his birthday. Thirty-firstbirthday,only six months younger than me.

I kick off the sheets, ignoring Theo’s question, and make my way over to him, adjusting my length underneath the waistband of my boxer briefs. Theo catches the movement and curls his lips into a look of disgust.

“Is that mine?” I ask, taking the coffee from atop the dresser.

“Yeah,” he says.

I nod my thanks and take a small sip. “So, you nervous?” I grin over the top of the travel mug, nearly gagging on the cold-ass coffee. He’s been awake for hours.

Theo glares at me, tossing the dog tags. I catch them in mid-air before they hit the ground, securing them in my palm before giving him an I-know-the-truth wink. “Youcan tell me. I can keep a secret.”

Theo chugs the rest of his coffee and slams his cup down on the dresser. I chuckle at his deflection, which only pisses him off more. “I don’t get nervous, Jameson. Stop being such a girl. It’s just a fucking wedding.”

I’m grinning so hard right now that my cheeks hurt. I love pushing his buttons, especially on mornings like this. It’s a great reprieve from the hellish nightmare I endured.

“Just a wedding, huh?” I flick his baseball hat with my finger. “Did the commander finally agree to let you wear the hat?” He shoves me hard, my lower back stinging from the hit I take against the dresser.

“Are we running or talking fashion wear? It’s a wedding. I’m showing up. I’ll say, ‘I do’ and then I will rip the ridiculously expensive dress off her body and fuck her until she doesn’t give a shit what’s on my head.”

I belt out a laugh when he storms off, throwing open the door leading out into the hallway. “I’m going to run with Killer,” he calls over his shoulder. “She’s less of a vagina than you are today.”

I’m desperately trying to rein in my laughter before he gets really pissed. “Don’t be so sensitive,” I garble out. “Let me throw on some shorts and I’ll meet you downstairs. Here,” I say, extending my coffee to him. “Heat this up while you’re in the kitchen.”

He grumbles something low I don’t catch and lumbers forward and snatches it from my hand. “Put on a shirt while you’re at it. I get sick of watching your massive man tits bounce around while we’re running.”

I flex my pecs up and down with a smile. “Von Bremen, have you been checking me out? I’m flattered—” Theo slams the door before I can get out the rest of my jab, muttering something about me being a cocky motherfucker.

My mood has brightened tremendously in the last fifteen minutes. I was sure I would wake up depressed. As much as I would like to lie and tell you I am completely cool about today, I’m not.

My angel is getting married.

In six hours I will walk her down the aisle and give her awayto Theo.

My nemesis.

My friend.

My brother.

After everything we’ve been through, from hating the sight of each other to joining forces to protect her, I’ve grown to respect him. Underneath all the asshole comments, the lewd and taunting behavior, is a man who loves a woman so unconditionally that he is willing to do anything for her. Even die for her. I can’t deny that kind of devotion.

“Jameson! Get your ass moving!”

Theo’s patience has expired.

Throwing on a pair of athletic shorts—I skip the shirt on principle—I grab my socks and shoes and hustle out the door before he can shout again.

“Cade!”

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