Page 27 of Make You Love Me
Grant takes him in with several slow blinks. “How can you look like that and not have any wild sex stories? Dining room table? That’s all you’ve got?”
“It was quite the moment,” Jackson jokes.
“Wow.”
“Jackson was married to the Marines until he found Emily, so don’t hold it against him,” I urge.
Grant rolls his eyes. “Since you’re a national hero, I’ll let it slide this one time.” He turns to Josie. “You’re up, missy.”
She groans out her displeasure and gulps down the rest of her pink, fruity cocktail. “Dare.”
“I haven’t even asked yet.”
“And you know all my secrets.”
“Oh, really?” I complain. “Are there some you haven’t told me?”
She stares before turning back to her friend. “Let me have it.” She winks over her shoulder at me, and I’m not sure how I feel about this. We tell each other everything…or so I thought.
“That disgustingly hot, muscley guy over there with all the chicks, ask him to dance.”
“Hayes?”
“Sergeant?” I say at the same time.
“But he’s so broody, and all those women will throw their ice-cold drinks at me.” She shivers at the thought.
“Gorgeous broody men are so much sexier than cinnamon roll types…sorry, boys,” he says to me and Jackson, and again, I don’t know how to take it. I chuckle to myself.
“Does that mean we’re cinnamon rolls?” Jackson asks him, amusement in his eyes.
“Oh, yeah. The sweet, gooey kind, fit for biting.” He bares his teeth and laughter bursts from Jackson’s chest.
“I’ve had my fair share of broodiness over the years, so I’ll take it.”
“Good. Now, get to it, sweetheart,” Grant says to Josie.
“I don’t know who’s scarier—Mr. Grumpy or all those catty females sure to ruin my favorite top.”
“Only one way to find out.”
Josie rises from her seat, and my stomach churns. Her target is my sergeant. We’re not even supposed to be hanging out together like this, but I assume we get a pass because of my injuries. Just a commanding officer checking in on his lieutenant. But he’s six-three, two hundred and twenty pounds of muscle, and she’s a buck fifteen soaking wet.
Sergeant would never do anything to hurt her physically. It’s her heart I’m worried about. He doesn’t hold back. The edges of his personality are jagged and sharper than she’s used to. While she may act like she’s sporting a tough outer shell, she’s sensitive, and her tender side bruises easily. Without meaning to, he could leave behind a few blemishes and never know. One of Josie’s most practiced skills—and the most dangerous in my brotherly opinion—is hiding how much she hurts behind a glorious ray of sunshine.
Watching her stroll over to him, the knot in my chest pulls tight again.
“And we have contact, boys,” Grant commentates as Sergeant turns to find the tap on his shoulder came from my sister. “What is this? Another sexy woman wants me?” he says in a deep voice, pretending to be Sergeant. “He’s contemplating. He’s on the verge of denying the request. Choose one woman or ten? It’s a no brain—Oh! What’s this? That gorgeous ass is off the chair, his interest piqued.” Grant’s eyebrows dance at us before he returns to the play-by-play. “Lord have mercy, at full height, he is something to behold. What does he remind me of? Sexy Viking? Greek god? Oh, hot lumberjack. He could split a little something in two with just one thrust of his big—”
“Grant,” I scold.
“What? I was talking about his wood splitting skills. But speaking of wood, she could use a little rough and tumble, if you know what I mean.”
“I do, and I’d prefer you not talk about it.”
“Sure. I’ll keep my comments for another time when you’re not so uptight.”
“Or may I suggest never in my presence?”
