Page 19 of Light on Love

Brett chuckles, stretching his legs out in front of him. They’re seated in the bed of the truck watching for the helicopter. The mountains around them rise highest on this portion of the ranch, a beautiful sharp barrier by nature’s hand. Laurel wonders if the difficulty to fly into the valley at the angle required here was why Brett selected this field for the rendezvous spot.

“You realize that you need me to train you? If I want to take a break, then we take a break,” he points out.

“This issuchan insignificant thing though; it’s barely a bruise even.” She pauses, then adds softly, “I just want to be able to do this.”

“We’ll get there, it just takes time.”

“I’m sure there’s something you always wanted to be good at, but struggle to do?” She forms the statement into a question.

“Nope. I’m good at everything,” he says with a shrug.

Laurel rolls her eyes. “Especially modesty.”

This earns another chuckle from Brett, and they fall into silence for a moment. He moves his hand to hold the nape of her neck. “Okay,” he concedes. “I’ll plan something light for us tomorrow.”

“Thank you,” she says quietly, looking up at him through her lashes.

“Swimming.”

She blinks at him, confusion flashing across her expression. “Swimming?” she asks.

“It took me a long time to learn how to swim as a kid. Like, years. And so many lessons. I was a few years older than everyone else in my class at the end there. And I still wouldn’t consider myself skilled in it.”

Laurel’s mouth drops open. “But…you’re a frogman! How did you survive training in BUD/S? Or any of your operations for that matter?”

“I almost drowned a few times in BUD/S, if I’m being honest. Then the buddy swim helped on ops. There was one where we had to swim, at night, through the Pacific Ocean. It was the best way to cross from neutral territory into enemy waters and infiltrate a port city. I had a hard time with that one.” He explains it so casually, like he’s not talking about near death experiences. “No one knows this by the way,” Brett adds.

“Your secret is safe with me. Besides, it’s nice to know that you are, in fact, human after all,” Laurel says with a giggle, leaning towards him.

Brett wraps his arm around her, pulling her in tight against his side. “I didn’t know that was in question,” he says, his voice now lower than usual.“Tell me, honey, what else do you wonder about me?”

Laurel shivers as a question hovers on the edge of her mind. One she’s had on repeat in her thoughts for some time now.What do you taste like, she thinks.

His hand tangles in her hair, as if reading her mind, and her lips part in response. She’s going to find out the answer to that question, she needs to find out. Laurel lifts her face up to his as the roar of a helicopter comes over the mountain ridge. Brett nudges his nose along her jaw, loosening a sigh, before pulling away and reaching for his long-range rifle at his side. She watches in amazement as his eyes shift from warm and inviting to cold and calculating, surveying the incoming chopper for a threat.

11

The helicopter lands and a familiar man, one that had brought her here, jumps out with a folder size case in hand. Laurel watches from her spot in the truck bed as Brett and the man approach one another across the field. Brett lets his weapon hang loosely in his right hand, but she doesn’t miss how he keeps his finger on the trigger. They appear to be having a conversation when the carrier looks past Brett to her.

The relaxed demeanor Brett was conveying disappears in an instant, his arm bringing his rifle around in front of him as his shoulders go rigid and he takes a step to the side, again blocking the man’s view of her. Laurel sucks in a breath, waiting to see how this man will react to Brett’s shift, waiting to see if Brett is on to something she doesn’t yet know about the carrier.Did I make a mistake asking Brett to bring me, she wonders. Then after another moment, the man drops his gaze to the ground and turns, retreating back to the helicopter.

She exhales deeply once the helicopter is in the air again, but Brett remains in his place out in the field until it disappearsover the mountains. When he turns to head back towards the truck, his face is set as harsh as stone, his eyes piercing.If looks couldkill, Laurel thinks as a chill runs through her. She knows she’s just gotten a glimpse of the war fighter mask he dons so well.

And then his eyes find hers, taking her in and softening immediately. He reaches the end of the tailgate where she’s slid down to meet him and sets down the folder. His hands come to rest on either side of Laurel’s hips, lightly grazing her. His rifle now hanging loosely on the strap over his shoulder.

Laurel finds herself imagining him when he had served. She pictures him in uniform, loaded down with his weapons. Pictures him as the strong, sturdy leader he was in the most dangerous situations.

“What’s on your mind?” Brett asks.

Laurel flushes, not realizing that her wandering mind was written all over her face. “Nothing, just all of this,” she says with a wave of her hand. “Is everything okay?”

“I don’t think we’ll be seeing that guy again if we need anything else from the base,” he snorts. “He wanted to come talk to you directly, claimed he had questions for you. I simply reminded him that his assignment was to hand me a folder, in no way involving a need to question you. I might have also added what I would do to him if he decided against my instructions.”

“A little possessive are we,” she teases, knowing full well she was sent here for the sole purpose of his protecting her. But maybe, she hoped, it was becoming more than that for Brett.

“Would it be so bad?” Brett asks. “If I found myself wanting to take care of you?” his tone thick with vulnerability. Laurel reaches out, running her hands down his arms.

“No, I don’t think it would be bad at all.”

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