The Returning Hero (15 page)

He swallowed a larger gulp of his drink this time, finding the second taste smoother than the first.

“You ready for another?”

Brett looked up as the bartender spoke to him. “Ah, no. I think just one will do me.”

He received a nod in response. “I haven’t seen you here before.”

“And hopefully, at this time of the day at least, you won’t see me again.”

The bartender chuckled. “You don’t exactly look like my kind of lunchtime regular. The type who only ever consumes liquid for lunch, that is.”

“Heaven help me,” Brett said, tipping back the rest of the glass and closing his eyes as he swallowed it down. The drink had made his stomach swirl with a heat that felt better than the cold dread he’d been experiencing earlier, but he still didn’t want to be tempted by a second.

“Woman trouble?”

Brett nodded. “You could say that.”

“Don’t be an idiot, that’s my advice. If you love her? Tell her you’re sorry and make it up to her. The guys that don’t do that…?” The bartender raised his eyebrows. “They’re the ones who turn into my regulars, and it’s a sad story from then on. Although women troubles are pretty good for business down here.”

Brett stood and put his wallet into his back pocket. “Thanks for the advice. It’s not quite that simple, but you’re right.”

He walked to the entrance, feeling like a desperate man as he stared at the light filtering through the door. Suddenly the confines of the bar, the darkness, even the smell, were all telling him that he needed to run, and fast. Before he turned into a depressed creature who needed bourbon and darkness to deal with his life on a daily basis.

Brett’s memories would forever haunt him—that last day with Sam like a scene from a movie playing on repeat sometimes—but he wasn’t ever going to give in to them. He had been part of Australia’s most elite special forces team, was trained in active combat, even how to deal with being captured and held by an enemy, and that training had instilled a strength in him that he wasn’t ever going to let disappear from his mind.

The trouble was, that training had also taught him that there was nothing more important than his fellow soldiers,
his men
. And Sam had been his wingman, his buddy, the person he trusted with his life on a daily basis. Part of the family that he’d created after losing his parents.

So did he maintain that loyalty even in Sam’s death, or did he give in to his feelings for Jamie and try to tell himself that
that
was the right thing to do? Because the broken, hurt look in her eyes when he’d walked away from her earlier might end up haunting him for the rest of his life, too. He loved her, there was no denying that, but he also had a loyalty to his family, and that meant respecting Sam even in death. What Logan had said was what had terrified him all this time with Jamie—words that he’d told himself before giving in to the way he felt. Before making love to Jamie and knowing it was so wrong, but also so right.

Brett held up his hand to shield his eyes from the bright sunlight and started to walk, because he had nothing else to do and nowhere else to be. He just followed his feet, needing the time to think. He hadn’t been lying to Jamie when he’d told her how he’d felt that first time they’d met, or about how he’d come looking for her, and part of him knew that she deserved to know the truth about the past. About how he’d felt and what he would have done if she hadn’t already met Sam.

That night, that first time they’d met, they’d spent hours talking. Two people at a party, not part of the crowd around them, they’d sipped champagne, laughed and talked like he’d never talked to anyone in his life before. And then his girlfriend had interrupted them, told him off for leaving her even though he’d seen her dancing and having fun without him, knew she’d been fine on her own.

He’d walked away from Jamie, tugged in a direction that he’d known had been wrong, but knowing that he didn’t have a choice. The look in her eyes, the way they’d looked at one another, was a moment he’d never forgotten. His hand held by one woman, and everything else held by a woman he’d only known for less than a few hours.

Ten minutes later, from across the room, he’d watched her leave, and the next time he’d seen her, she’d been laughing and in the arms of his best friend.
Sam.

Brett stopped walking and stared up at the sky, eyes adjusted to the sun now

He’d fallen in love with Jamie from the moment he’d met her. So what if it wasn’t the right thing in everyone else’s eyes? If it wasn’t what he’d planned? He’d stood back and let his friend be with the love of his life, and now it was his turn, wasn’t it? It was his chance at a happiness that he’d never known, his time to see if he and Jamie could be together. Did it mean he didn’t love Sam like a brother, now that Sam was gone and he and Jamie had the chance to fall in love?

If Jamie wanted him, then he was a fool to walk away, he knew that. Logan might be his friend, but Jamie could be the love of his life, the woman who’d be at his side for the rest of his life. And that wasn’t something anyone else had the right to tell him he should give up. Not Logan, and not Sam’s memory. Because no matter how much he respected his friends, he needed to respect himself and what was important to him, too. If they were truly his family, wouldn’t they want to see him happy?

The only person who had the right to push him away and end whatever it was that had happened between them, was Jamie. He just needed to tell her that before she changed her mind and didn’t want him back.

He’d spent so long worrying about what other people would think was right, about being faithful to those he loved, that he’d forgotten what was most important. What was right by Jamie. What would make Jamie happy.

What would make him happy.

And there was only one thing that could make him happy right now, and that was Jamie, in his life, in his arms.

He wanted to give her enough time to think, to deal with what had happened, but he didn’t want to leave it so long that she thought he didn’t care.

Brett headed toward a cafe he could see across the street and decided to have a late lunch, just sit for a while and eat, think about what he’d say to her. Because this could be the most important thing he ever prepared for in his life, and he didn’t want to screw up the one chance he might get to prove himself to Jamie.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

B
RETT
CROSSED
THE
street and looked at Jamie’s house. It was like the first day he’d arrived, when he’d been so uncertain about coming, about what he’d say to her, and now he was feeling just as awkward.

Only this time, he actually had something to be awkward about. Not to mention something to say that he couldn’t even rehearse right in his mind, let alone out loud in front of Jamie.

It was getting late but the streetlights raised the canopy of darkness. She would no doubt already be asleep, but he was ready to come back and if he didn’t do it now he might never do it. He’d needed to take his time, to think and be sure about the decision he’d made, and now there was no doubt in his mind that what he was about to do was right.

Brett slid his key into the lock and turned it, quietly opening the door and shutting it behind him. Jamie had given him the key, willingly invited him into her home, but he still felt weird about just letting himself in and treating it like his own place. Especially after what had happened. She’d probably hear him and think he was an intruder, not expecting him to ever show his face again, and the last thing he wanted was to fuel her memories of what had happened in her childhood home.

“Just me, Bear,” he called out in a low voice, not wanting the dog to attack him thinking he was a stranger.

He walked through the house, flicked the light on in the kitchen, and it was then he heard the low growl. Brett looked around and realized the noise was coming from the sofa.

“Hey, boy, just me. It’s Brett,” he whispered.

The growl turned to a whine, and he stepped toward him so Bear could see him. His eyes adjusted to the half-light and he saw that the dog was snuggled up to, and protecting, Jamie. She was sound asleep, head tucked into a large cushion, blanket half over her, half over Bear. He knew better than to approach him too quickly.

Brett didn’t want to wake Jamie and give her a fright, either, so he quietly moved toward the sofa, pulled the blanket up to her chin without disturbing her or the dog, then walked back to turn the kitchen light off. He made his way in the dark into the living room again and slumped down in the armchair. It wasn’t the most comfortable place to sleep, but he’d experienced far worse, and he wanted to be there when Jamie woke up.

He didn’t want her to think he’d spent the night somewhere else, wanted her to know that he cared enough to come home and deal with what a jerk he’d been earlier in the day. And most of all, he wanted to be near her. This last week had made him feel alive again—being around Jamie and Bear—and he wasn’t going to give that up without a fight. Not to mention the fact that he’d finally been able to sleep since he’d been in her home with her. And if she asked him to leave in the morning? At least he could tell himself that he’d tried, that it wasn’t his own fear than had driven a wedge between them. He’d respect her choice no matter what she decided.

Brett was starting to be thankful that he’d had the glass of bourbon, because without it, he may have ended up sitting awake all night. But the heaviness in his eyes told him he needed to sleep, and he wasn’t going to deny himself. Not with Jamie asleep on the sofa opposite him. There was nothing he could do until she woke up, which gave him a little longer before he had to pour his heart out and convince her that what he’d said earlier, the way he’d behaved, had been him acting way out of line.

The truth had been how he’d held her in his arms the night before, what he’d said to her these past few days. Today, he’d just been plain scared, and that wasn’t something he would ever have admitted to in the past.

* * *

Jamie woke to the sun shining on her face and a big body pinning her down. She could hardly feel her legs. When she opened her eyes it was to a large black nose, with Bear resting his head on her chest.

“You’re squashing me,” she muttered, pushing the hair from her face, trying again to stretch out her legs and failing. He either didn’t hear her, or didn’t care, because he didn’t budge an inch and she was suddenly claustrophobic.

“Morning.”

Jamie’s heart stuttered into a superfast beat. Brett? What was he doing here? She locked eyes on him.

“When did you get back?” She hadn’t been expecting him here, let alone waking to find him in the same room as her.

“Ah, last night. But you looked so comfortable on the sofa so I left you there. Sorry if I woke you.”

She pushed Bear off and stretched, making an attempt to push her hair down, knowing how terrible she must look. She’d curled up without washing any of her makeup off, so her hair was probably the least of her worries compared to her panda eyes.

“You don’t have to make breakfast,” she told him, standing to watch Brett as he moved around the kitchen.

His dark brown eyes met hers, and she couldn’t help but smile at him.
This was Brett
. No matter what had happened yesterday, he was still the same Brett she’d always loved as a friend, and now…what? She didn’t know how to describe what had happened between them, how she felt about this gorgeous, kind man cooking in her kitchen. But she did know that she didn’t want to lose him from her life.

“I want to make up for yesterday’s lunch disaster,” he told her, cracking eggs into the pan as he spoke. “I know it’s going to take more than eggs to apologize, but it’s a good start, right?”

Jamie nodded, smiling back at him, but she needed a moment to gather her thoughts, to be alone. To deal with the fact that she’d gone to bed thinking she might never hear from him again, and now she was about to sit down to breakfast with him. Thank God she hadn’t woken in the night and tried to attack him, thinking he was breaking in.

“I’m just going to freshen up. I won’t be long,” she told him.

Jamie headed for the bathroom and shut the door behind her. What she wanted to do was sink to the floor and feel the cool of the tiles against her skin, but she also wanted to hear what Brett had to say. He was either going to tell her he wanted to go back to just being friends, or that he wanted something more, and she needed to prepare herself either way. She wanted him here so badly, but she also had no intention of forcing him.

Not to mention she was terrified of losing him as a friend.

* * *

Brett had been trying to rehearse what he was going to say, but the trouble was that he wasn’t entirely sure
what
he wanted to tell her. He put the eggs and bacon on the plates and walked them to the table, before returning with the toast and then the pot of coffee he’d freshly brewed. They said food was the way to a man’s heart—he was the hoping the same might be true for women. Or just one woman in particular.

“It looks great.”

He looked up as Jamie entered the room, watching as she first looked down at the table, then at him, before sitting. She immediately fingered the napkin he’d put beside her plate, as if she needed something to do, something to take her mind off what was happening or what they were going to talk about.

“The scrambled eggs look so creamy,” she said, taking a mouthful and fluttering her eyes shut for a second as she swallowed. “And they taste
really
good.”

“The trick is to not add any milk. Just whisk them all up and straight into the pan, and turn them off as soon as they’re almost cooked.”

“So you know more than just pasta and sauce, huh? What happened to you being a one-trick pony?”

Brett swallowed his mouthful and reached for a piece of toast. “One breakfast recipe and one dinner, that’s all.” He took a bite and watched her. “Now that you’ve tasted this, I don’t have any more hidden talents to wow you with. This is me going all out to impress.”