Bronson's Battle: Curvy Woman and Soldier of Fortune Romance (Red Star Rebel Squad Book 2) Read online

  “Kyler, were you asleep?” I ask.

  “Mostly.”

  I shake my head. “You’ll be moving to the couch in a while.”

  “Whatever you say, Neve,” he says on a long yawn and I watch his eyes flutter closed.

  It was never about what I said. It was about what I didn’t say.

  Like I love you.

  4 Bronson

  I wake up and the room is dark. And man, I have to take a massive piss. I roll over slowly and sit up even slower. Her side is untouched, but I don’t know what I was expecting. We’re not sixteen anymore.

  I grab my phone and I shake my head when I see the date and time. I slept for thirty-two hours? Holy shit. I haven’t slept more than three or four at a time since I joined the military nineteen years ago.

  My time with the Red Star Rebel Squad hasn’t been all that bad. I have a shitload of cash but there was never any time to spend it. If I’m not working, I’m resting up to work. If I’m not resting, I’m planning for the next mission. And if I’m not on a mission, I’m waiting for the next one. The company pays for a housekeeper and cooking services for the compound that we live in outside of Houston in the countryside. Occasionally, the team wanders into Houston for a drink, but those days are few and far in between. Getting drunk has lasting effects and we all agree we need to be clearheaded. The compound has a great back deck to watch the sunset and we sit out there and shoot the shit, drinking our sweet tea or water.

  And that means I have money to take care of Neveah. To give her the things she wants. To shower her with gifts and see the smile on her face. To provide for her.

  I stand up and my legs wobble. The doctors said it would take a while to get used to the new me, but there isn’t a day that Black Ice doesn’t text to see when I can come back. I finally blocked their number and told Halsey to fuck off. He’s squad commander this month. We all take turns so no one feels like they’re always taking orders. That’s the problem with having twelve alpha soldiers who could turn on each other at any moment. And occasionally, we do.

  I try to keep my shit under lock and key with them, but Halsey rubs me the wrong way. I don’t know what’s wrong with that dude, but it’s insidious and it’s painful. And most days he’s on my ass like a hummingbird on sugar water, stinging and insistent.

  My training as an ordained minister taught me that it’s not what people say, it’s how you interpret it that matters. Same with the Bible. I read passages differently than some, but that’s okay. It’s my way with God.

  Thou shalt not kill. But as situations warrant… if they’re bad guys holding a seven-year-old girl hostage, there’s flexibility. We try to get in and get out without casualties, but sometimes people die. And they don’t get a chance to come back. I’m getting a chance that a few we went in to rescue didn’t get.

  And I’m going to make it count.

  My bag is sitting by the bathroom door, so I grab a shower and shave. The shave they did in the hospital was pitiful, so I go in deep. And I’m rewarded with soft, kissable—hopefully—skin, leaving just a thin line of short-shorn beard around the edge of my jawline and covering the large scar on my chin from another mission gone wrong. There haven’t been many, but it’s not hard to remember the few.

  I step from the bedroom and there’s no sign of life in the house. I see a note on the back of the door. She’ll be back at seven after her shift at the university hospital. I turn and look around.

  The furniture is new and stylish. The wood floor’s been updated. The blinds and window treatments are custom. The rugs are wool. The money I left her wouldn’t have covered this. This is all her. My chest warms at the thought.

  But that means one thing.

  She doesn’t need my fuckin’ money and I was being an asshole in even assuming that she did. Will she need me at all?

  I pick up my phone and find a restaurant that delivers and search back in my mind to what her favorite meals were. When we were living on the street, I remember she loved when I made spaghetti and meatballs. It wasn’t much, but I could make a mean meatball. I check her fridge. She has everything for the meal but onion. And the onion in my sauce is completely necessary.

  I slip on my shoes and walk next door. I ring the doorbell and the lady opens with a smile.

  “Hello. Can I help you?” she asks.

  “Hi, I’m…I’m…” my brain freezes. I’ve been Bronson for so long that my name doesn’t come easily and that makes me uncomfortable. “I’m…Kyler. I’m staying with Neveah for a few days.”

  “Oh, she’s such a doll. You know, she saved Howard last year? We owe her so much.”

  “Saved? Howard?”

  The woman motions me inside. “Yes, my husband. He had a heart attack and she performed CPR until the paramedics got here. I don’t know what I would’ve done without her. She’s an angel.”

  That she is.

  “Anyway, dear, what can I help you with?”

  “She’s off at work and I don’t have a vehicle here. I’m making dinner, my spaghetti and meatballs, and she has everything but onion. I was wondering if you have an onion I could borrow?”

  “Of course. Actually, I was just sitting down to have some lunch. Would you like to join us?”

  “I don’t want to intrude.”

  She smiles. “Any friend of Neveah’s is a friend of ours.”

  A man about my father’s age steps out of the basement door. “Honey, where’s the hammer? My Silver Star fell off the wall, again.” He stops. “Hello.”

  I reach out. “You must be Howard?”

  “I am. And you are?”

  “I’m Kyler Hanlon, a friend of Neveah’s.”

  The way his face lights up at her name tells me so much. She’s more than that scared girl I remember. She’s a woman who gives so much to others.

  He shakes my hand with a firm grip, and I grimace as it sends a shock through my body.

  “You okay, Kyler?”

  “Got injured in duty and I’m just getting back to being me.”

  “Then come in and have a seat for a minute, gain your strength back. I remember those days. Marian, get him a glass of water, please.”

  I follow him into the kitchen and take a seat in a swiveling cloth covered chair. It’s comfortable and I feel at ease.

  Two hours later, I’m walking out with stories of Howard’s time in Vietnam and a full belly of vegetable soup and sandwich.

  Marian hands over the onion, all chopped, which I told her I would do, but she did it because she said it’s the least she can do for Neveah. She even wanted to come make the meatballs, but Howard indicated that I needed to do this myself. He knows. This is make it or break it time.

  “Been a while since you’ve made a meal for me,” she says behind him.

  He smiles. “I knew that was coming.” Howard reaches out a hand. “You are welcome here any time, Kyler. And if we can do anything, please let us know.”

  “I will, sir.”

  “No, no ‘sir.’ Howard. Just Howard.”

  “But you were a general, and I’m a captain. You know…”

  “But now we’re friends and that comes before titles.”

  His logic makes me think of Halsey. Maybe he needs someone to be his friend above the hierarchy bullshit. All this time I was supposed to be preaching acceptance and honesty and I’ve missed the point. Friendship doesn’t come with reasoning or validation. Halsey doesn’t need to be mine for me to be his. It’s the challenging people in our lives that will change us and shape us the most.

  And that goes for Neveah, too. We used to have a friendship that seemed to have a depth that I wondered how deep the fathoms were. If she doesn’t at least want what we had before, I don’t know if should be here.

  I step inside and a frame catches my eye on the wall next to her TV. I step slowly forward as what it is settles into me. The flag folded perfectly into that crisp triangle blue stars out and the stripes tucked perfectly.

  I remember that day.
I watched my own funeral from a vantage point where no one could see me. I took a day off—I subsequently admonished for it, but I didn’t care—and flew to Chicago, and attended my own ceremony. Neveah did everything exactly as I would’ve wanted had I written it all down. I didn’t. She just knew.

  Short ceremony at the cemetery. Twenty-one-gun salute to honor my military service. Flag presentation to my mother. And Neveah sang “How Great Thou Art.” Her voice floated across the hills to me. And I broke down.

  Until that moment I thought the whole thing was all for the best. But it wasn’t like I could run across the grounds and say, “Hey, just joking, I’m still alive!”. One, I was under contract not to return from the dead until my contract was up. Two, I was taken aback by how Neveah put her heart into all of it. Three, in that moment, I was petrified that I’d lost something…and still am.

  I waited for her to leave. But she never did. I crept closer and closer. And I listened to her crying for hours through a pouring rain. I wanted to wrap her up in my arms, but I couldn’t. And when she fell asleep, I watched over her. She opened her eyes once and I thought she saw me, but she just whimpered, and the tears still fell while she was asleep.

  And that’s when I knew…she loved me. And not just in friendship. She truly loved the man I am.

  After I watched her leave, I stood in front of my plot. It was weird looking down and seeing my name. And from that moment on, I swore I’d stay away from her.

  Then the last covert mission turned so quick, I thought maybe we’d been compromised, but it was just poor planning by the June leader, me. Thankfully, no one died, but one of our guys was left with some mental scars that will be more like ravines in his soul than scratches on the surface of his psyche.

  But now, I need to make a plan and this one can’t fail.

  While I’m making the meatballs, I call my buddy Murphy. He’s out of the Red Star Rebels and found the love of his life. One lucky bastard.

  “Hey, Bron, what’s up?”

  I almost want him to call me by my real name, but I push away the thought.

  “Hey…um…”

  “Landon.” He guides me to know what he wants to be called now.

  “Landon,” I repeat.

  “But you can call me whatever you want.”

  “Jerk.”

  He laughs. “Okay, I take it back, you can call me Murphy or Landon.”

  “Good to know.”

  After a quick catching up, I tell him where I am and what’s going on.

  “I’ve found her. I want to keep her. What do I do?” I ask while slowly mixing the meatballs. The trick is to not over mix, keep them light and soft.

  “You show her the man you are and can be for her. Don’t plan everything. Keep it spontaneous because women will throw you a loop when you least expect it.”

  “Have you heard from Fremont?”

  “Black Ice told me I couldn’t contact anyone.”

  “But you called me while I was in the hospital.”

  “Yeah, I know, but sometimes you have to break the—”

  “Rules,” we say together and chuckle. It’s a running theme for us.

  He clears his throat. “If you want Neveah, then dig deep. Be honest with her. Deeper than you ever have. It’ll take everything you have inside of you to make this happen. And currently you have a lot less shit inside of you.”

  I laugh. “That is the truth.”

  “You got this, Bronson.”

  I settle my nerves. “Later, Landon.”

  “And hey, I hope to see you soon.”

  “I think you will.”

  I hang up and stir the simmering sauce, adding a few red pepper flakes.

  Tonight is going to be a little spicy.

  And I hope not just the sauce.

  5 Neveah

  I open the door and step back out to look at the mailbox and make sure I’m at the right address.

  The living room looks…cleaned? There’s soft music coming from the kitchen. A bouquet of red roses sit on the sideboard in the dining room. And the table is set with burning candles and napkins.

  “Kyler?” I slip off my work shoes. “Ky?”

  His head pops around the corner from the kitchen. “In here.”

  My confusion settles just a bit.

  The smells hit me at the door to the kitchen. Garlic, onion, rich meat, tangy tomato, all overwhelm my senses.

  And then there’s him. Standing tall. Pressed shirt and khakis. Looking finer than my great-grandmother’s Wedgwood china.

  I turn around and walk into my bedroom. My stomach churning. That definitely didn’t look like a bowl of spaghetti on the couch kind of meal. That looked…romantic. Something I never would have thought Kyler Hanlon could pull off. But he did. I strip down and catch a glimpse of my rosy cheeks and peaked nipples in the mirror. He’s affecting me the same way he always did. He just never realized how much.

  I shower and slip on a dress, just above my knees, pink jersey, and soft.

  Easily removed, but that’s for me to know and maybe for him to find out.

  I chuckle to myself as I let my locks down and allow the springy coils to do what they want. This is me. If he doesn’t like it, he doesn’t have to stay.

  I feel anger and hurt rising inside of me and I try to suppress the sensation. I don’t want to feel those. I want to feel the love, the wanting, and the hope, but to get there I know we’ll have to get through the mud of the first feelings. The messy, messy mud of those past feelings.

  When I come back out, he’s at the table, shaking his head and mumbling something about “the plan.” Startled, he stands to attention when he sees me.

  “So, what’s the plan?” I ask and his face pales.

  His shoulders drop on a long exhale. “You look beautiful, Neveah.”

  I look him up and down, blatantly. If this is going to happen, we have to be on the same amorous page. “You look…better than I remember, and definitely better than a dead man should.”

  “I made dinner.” He motions to the table.

  I look over the table and I can’t stop a smile. “Spaghetti and meatballs? You remembered…”

  He steps forward and his hand slips into mine, lifting to his mouth. I don’t flinch, I just let the warmth flow through me. “I’ll never forget. I promise. Everything we’ve been through, everything you’ve done for me, everything we mean to each other.”

  My stomach rides a long wave of caution. “I only need to know one thing before we take this further. Are you staying or are you going back?”

  His eyes hold to mine. “I don’t know and that’s the honest answer.”

  It’s not enough, but I can’t ask for everything right now. I can tell he’s trying. But I can also see that he’s still hurt and the same nurturing instincts I use in the hospital kick in and I feel for him.

  I sit as he pulls out my dining chair and he serves me up a nice big bowl of pasta and sauce with one, two…I tip my head at him to indicate he can keep going and he chuckles, adding a third meatball. With my size twenty ass, he knows I eat. I’m not going to pretend I live off of chicken breast and salad. I eat what I want to and when I want to. Ice cream at ten o’clock—why the hell not? If anything, Kyler taught me that life can come and go quickly, so live large while you’re alive.

  But how do you live when you come back from the dead?

  We reminisce and talk about how we made do back in the days when now we can do whatever.

  “You ever miss those days?” he asks.

  “The wondering when we were going to eat next days? Hell no. But the nights where we would stay up until two a.m. discussing what we were going to do with our lives…I miss that.”

  He reaches across the table and slips his hand under mine. I shiver as our fingers wind together and his thumb strokes along mine.

  “Neveah, I’m ready to be done with the Rebels and move on with my life, but…if there’s nothing to come back to—”

  I pull my hand a
way like he’s singeing me. “No, you can’t do that. You can’t pin all your hopes and future on me. If you want this, if you want us…then you have to want it as much…as I do, Kyler.”

  The corners of his lips rise slightly, and I want to kiss that charming smirk right off his face. “You want us?”

  I look into the caverns that are his eyes. Deep, sensual, and all around deadly.

  “I’ve wanted you for over twenty years of my life, five of that while you were dead, and I knew I couldn’t have you. I can’t stop wanting you. You’re a part of me that was missing for too long.”

  He stands and lifts me up by my hand as the music starts playing. “Dance?”

  “Sure.”

  It’s the first time our bodies have ever been pressed so close that I swear I can feel his heart beating. Mine’s beating so fast that the thumping drowns my hearing and I can barely hear the music.

  “Fix You” by Coldplay echoes the room, it’s melancholy refrain taking me away. I lay my head on his shoulder. I feel like this song is our anthem. It’s his way of acknowledging that we’re both trying our best at this moment.

  The song serenades us and our bodies get closer and closer.

  His head dips and his lips brush the curve of my ear. “I missed you with every breath I took.”

  I close my eyes and purse my lips. I lean back. “Make love to me, Ky. I want to feel you and I want to breathe again. I want to know you’re alive.”

  6 Kyler

  My body tingles as Neveah presses her body against me harder, her hands around my neck, pulling my head down, urging me when I need none. I claim her mouth with a hard pressure.

  I thought there might be some awkwardness, but there isn’t. In seconds, she moans, and I echo her sentiments. I hear her. I feel her. I know her.

  Her hands slide down my chest, exploring and getting her feel. If she’s stopped herself in the past, she’s taking it all in now and as they flutter over my pecs, my cock pulses to attention. Her breasts press against my chest and her head tilts allowing me to dip my tongue inside of her mouth. That sweetness she exhibits on the outside is on the inside, too.