Killing Honor (5 page)

The hurt in Brody’s eyes when Riley had screamed was heart-wrenching. It wasn’t her fault. She was picked up from her bed and whisked away to a crowd, and while Riley was a bit of a drama queen, she wasn’t good in crowds. And she didn’t know who Brody was. She didn’t know what “daddy” meant. The harsh reality, the one that no one wanted to acknowledge, was that he was a stranger to her.

“You look exhausted,” Brody said as he came back into the room. He sat down on the couch next to me, resting his hand on my thigh. “So, do they invite themselves over a lot?”

I’d really wanted Brody’s first day home to be with us, his immediate family. But with this day, I’d become the outsider. Of course, his family was always welcome, but on the first day? It was supposed to be about us, about being a husband and father. But I couldn’t fault them for wanting to see him. It kept going back to that. I couldn’t fault them… but that didn’t mean I had to like it.

“Not usually. I accidentally told your mother while I was going to pick you up.” I leaned my head back against the couch.

“Ah, I see.” His thumb slid along my leg. A tempting shiver ran up my body. “So. What do you usually do now?”

“Dinner. Bath. Bed. Usually in that order.” I peered over at him and half-smiled, which was all I had energy for. “Not quite as exciting as your job, huh.”

“I could go for non-exciting.” He moved his hand from my thigh, and lifted his arm behind my head, pulling me closer to him. “I like the idea of a quiet night. I missed you. And Riley. And Jackie. And Mom was here all day long.”

“We missed you too.” Was he upset I told his mother he was home? He didn’t sound angry, just tired.

He smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I doubt Riley and Jackie agree.” His eyes followed the twins as they crawled along on the floor, for once in their lives playing quietly, until Jackie grabbed a truck from Riley’s hand and pulled it away from her. Riley stared at the truck, looked back at me, and then over at Brody. There was a beat, and then she burst into wailing tears.

Drama queen.

I sighed. “There goes the quiet.” 

“Did she really just look for our reactions before she started crying?”

I chuckled and stood up. “Guess I should feed these two. Come on, girls. Time for dinner.” I lifted them both into my arms, grunting at the weight and took my wriggling subjects into the kitchen where their highchair prisons awaited.

Brody did seem happy to be home. But in my mind, I hadn’t expected how different he’d be. I’d thought he would be the same, I’d be the same, and we’d both be the same way we were before he’d left. But I was fast realizing what a pipe dream that was.

~*~*~

I missed my husband so much that my heart ached. I tucked the girls into their cribs, giving each a kiss before laying them down. It was almost time to convert them into toddler beds, but I wasn’t ready to give up the cribs just yet.

“Devyn?”

I whirled around in the twin’s bedroom, my breath lost immediately. Brody was in the doorway to the twins’ bedroom, lazily leaning against the doorframe. I clenched my jaw, my eyes misting at the sight of my tough, strong Brody.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.” He looked awkward in the doorway, as if he were unsure of what he was supposed to do there. He’d crossed his arms but it looked unnatural, uncomfortable.

“You didn’t. I’m fine.” Misery and relief clawed their way through me at the same time. It felt like, at times, he hadn’t come back yet, that part of him still existed wherever he’d been. And then I saw him, as he was in the doorway, and I couldn’t quite come to terms that he’d ever left. It was confusing and scary.

Brody had been quiet at dinner, mostly just watching me as I fed the girls.  He seemed lost when it came to them. It felt more than a little awkward. We used to joke around a lot, going back and forth like an episode of the Gilmore Girls.

Maybe he didn’t know how to act with children. I’d had time to grow and learn with the twins, but he hadn’t. He’d had two years of fighting, and secret missions, and death and war. And here were representations of life, two identical ones, that came from him.

“Mind if I watch?”

“With the bedtime stuff?”

He nodded.

“Okay.”

“They… they won’t mind?” He nodded to the girls, who were already in their cribs, but weren’t laying down yet. They were too busy watching their father. He was the novelty in the house today.

“They won’t mind. You could say goodnight to them, too.” I turned to the girls. “Riley, Jackie. Say goodnight to Daddy.”

Jackie was already on her feet, holding out her arms. I think that eased Brody’s hesitance. She’d been hesitant earlier, but it seemed now that Jackie knew he was staying, she was all about asking for love. Brody gently squeezed the kid, and kissed her forehead. “Nite, cutie.”

“Nini.” Jackie singsonged.

Brody turned to Riley, who was more cautious as usual. But she allowed a hug after only a slight hesitance.

Riley whispered a short “nini” to him, and then Brody backed away from them and let me tuck them in. I couldn’t see Brody from where I was, but his presence filled every inch of my body. I flipped off the bedroom switch when I left, and found Brody waiting in the hallway. He had a smile on his face, a radiant, burning beam that warmed my insides just by proximity. God, how I’d missed that smile.

Reintegrating Brody back into our lives wasn’t going to be easy. I’d talked to the base psychologist at length over what to expect when Brody was finally home. It didn’t seem like nearly enough preparation. But seeing that smile… It suddenly was worth the effort.

In the hallway, his shirt stretched over his shoulders. His muscles flexed and contracted beneath the fabric. Loose jeans hung low on his hips. How had I not noticed how his shirt was slightly too small and rode up, and gave me a glimpse of the muscled planes that led downward, out of sight under his jeans? Had he gotten more muscle mass since he’d left? Or was I just imagining things? Maybe he’d already had it and I just didn’t remember.

My heart fluttered in ways that it hadn’t even thought about fluttering in two years as his intense gaze zeroed in on me. “It’s a little early for grown-up bedtime, but I could be convinced.”

The half-grin on his face made me smile. His dark hair was cropped so close to his head, almost like a black halo. My sinning angel.

“I have to clean the kitchen,” I said. It was a lame excuse. I wanted nothing better than to go to bed with Brody, especially with that sexy smirk across his face. Two years of being chaste was unnerving when you were finally presented with the real deal.

“I could help you?” His voice rose in a soft, questioning lilt.

“Nah, I’m good. It’ll just be a minute. You look tired. You should get some rest.”

Brody’s eyes narrowed slightly. “You sure?”

I nodded. He didn’t look convinced, so I stepped up on my toes and kissed his cheek. “I’m sure.”

“All right. I’ll be waiting for you.”

Like the SEAL he was, he strode down the hall to our bedroom, confidence emanating from him like a pulsing light. How was it he remembered just where it was? He was all confidence, and poise. Nerves pricked at me, making me nauseous. It was his first night home in two years.

And here I was, scrubbing dishes in the kitchen. This was ridiculous to be nervous, right? That was Brody, my husband up there. He was the same person he was two years ago. The same guy who let me know he was alive with little things, like the addition of a picture or a profile status change, or he’d click a like on one of my posts.

But he felt like a stranger now. Two years was a long time… and I hadn’t spoken to him until he called for me to pick him up. All our plans had been through email before that.

So was I the same person? Was he the same? I finished the dish and started back up the stairs, each step getting harder and harder to make. What if we were too different now? That couple who married each other three years ago might not exist anymore. Navy marriages tended to end in divorce fifty percent of the time. SEAL marriages ended in divorce ninety percent of the time. I’d fight it tooth and nail, with every breath of my body, but what would happen to us when Brody decided not to fight anymore? 

Devyn

Walking into the bedroom, I very nearly lost every sense of myself there was. Brody stood by the bed, his shirt in his hand. He had a few new scars on his body since I’d last seen him. There was a pink shiny scar on his shoulder, where the indention beneath his collarbone was and a long thin scar along his ribs on the same side. Here and there, his body had small knicks, but those were the two biggest additions I’d seen to his skin.

I wanted to ask about them, but I didn’t. I wasn’t sure that he’d tell me anyway. There was so much he couldn’t tell me about his job.  It was frustrating.

He tilted his head, his bottomless amber eyes piercing right through me. He moved closer, the spicy scent of his aftershave wafting into my nostrils. I careened backwards, the sexy aroma permeating my immediate consciousness.

God, he smelled amazing.

“You took a long time.” His low timbre broke the silence of the room. He took another step toward me. He was so sexy. Why did he have to be so sexy? Magnificent and handsome, chiseled features, and a body that looked way too good half-naked like he was.

He was the best-looking guy I’d ever known. Hell, he was the only guy I’d ever felt like that with. We were each other’s firsts. Maybe we’d been stupid to marry without dating anyone else, but really… it never occurred to us that anyone else would have us.

“I was just cleaning up,” I replied, sliding over to the bed. I’d hoped to put some distance there, but he wasn’t having any of that. I turned away from it.

He crowded me, making me backpedal from the bed until my back hit the wall behind me. “Why are you afraid of me?”

“I’m not,” I whispered weakly. 

He didn’t answer for a while, his amber eyes just boring into me like he was trying to set me on fire. Then when he did answer, he didn’t do it with words. He grasped my chin, and then his mouth covered mine.

Even if I wanted to fight it—and my nervousness had vanished as soon as he’d touched me—I was helpless to. His kiss sent a relentless ache through straight to my core. His hot mouth slid over mine in a slow kiss, his lips deliciously firm and warm against me. His fingers danced along my neck.

Just then, Riley’s operatic scream filled the house. I broke the kiss, but Brody didn’t move away. He hung his head to the side of mine, so his forehead rested against the crook of my neck. My traitorous hands slid over his body, passing over the pink scar on his shoulder. It wasn’t more than a raised bump now, though I imagined originally it was bad.

“That’s Riley…. She has bad dreams sometimes,” I told him. Neither of us moved for a second. “I should see what’s wrong.” He still didn’t move. 

Finally, he lifted his head. “We’re not done.”

I swallowed the anxiety inside my throat but it settled in my chest, restricting the way my heart pumped. Slowly, I placed my palms on his chest, ignoring how firm and strong it felt, and pushed him away. He let me do it, taking two steps back and allowing me enough room to maneuver around him.

“Devyn?” I faced him straight on, my back to the bedroom door. “Do you want me? Right now, do you want me?”

“The moment’s gone, Brody. I have to check on Riley.” I turned to leave, desperate to make an escape.

“We shouldn’t have to have a moment to love each other.”

I froze. I looked back at Brody, sadness weighing on my chest and making it hard to breathe. “No. No, we shouldn’t.” Then I turned away again, and left the room. Because I was a big, fat chicken.

~*~*~

Brody

Gun fire rained down around us, echoing through my world. I ducked behind the abandoned Hummer. My team was down. The chopper was down.

I was trapped. Alone. This was just a stupid dream, damn it. But I couldn’t break loose of it. I knew my team was alive and yet, I couldn’t stop the dream from happening, from watching my team die.

I swallowed and changed out the magazine on my gun. I was going to have to make a run for it. I didn’t like the idea, but I didn’t have much choice.

I peered around the corner of the building. It wasn’t far. Just about ten steps to safety. If the snipers up top were any good, those ten steps would never happen. If I was quick enough, I could survive it.

I wasn’t a sniper. I’d never trained for it, but I wasn’t a bad shot. The trick was… I didn’t want to
get
shot.

The gun fire stopped, but I recognized the silence for what it was. Reloading. But with reloading came not-shooting. It was a chance. Who knew when they would stop again?

I stood up quickly and ran. Shots rang out around me, too close to have missed, but nothing hit me. I jumped, flying in through the newly opened door in front of me.

My landing turned into a summersault and I rolled to a stop… in my living room? I stared around the place. Beige carpets. Leather couches. Chestnut coffee table. Toys in the floor. It was my house but there was no one around.