heavy sigh as she got comfortable. He couldn’t bring himself to look at her, and suddenly he wished to hell he hadn’t insisted she spend the night. He should’ve known the nightmare would come. It had been making an unwelcome appearance every night for the past two months.
He put on a pair of long shorts and a ratty old T-shirt, then rolled socks onto his feet, making a conscious effort to avert his eyes. Guilt trickled through him as he heard Bree’s soft breathing, as he felt her gaze boring into him. He fought the urge to approach the bed and kiss her good morning, stroke her hair or some shit. With the way his body was humming from the anger and frustration sizzling in his blood, he feared he wouldn’t be gentle if he touched her.
Jake was halfway to the bathroom door when she spoke.
“That’s why.”
He turned, wariness flickering inside him. “What?”
“You looked confused yesterday when I shot down your dinner idea.” Her voice was soft, drowsy, but her eyes were alert as they pierced into his face. “But this, right now, is why I did.”
He stared at her in confusion.
“You don’t talk to me, Jake. You never have.”
Before he could question that enigmatic remark, she rolled over on her side and pulled the comforter up to her neck, effectively shutting him out.
Disconcerted as hell, he entered the washroom, where he hit the head and washed up. A few minutes later he left the dark bedroom and headed downstairs.
After shoving his feet into a pair of sneakers, he stepped outside and breathed in the cold morning air. The sky was overcast, a dismal gray sight made worse by the thick, black clouds creeping in from the west. Weather matched his mood, at least.
Jake took off running, sprinting toward the trees lining the edge of Nate’s property. Twigs cracked beneath his sneakers as he moved through the quiet woods. His ragged breaths came out white in the frigid air.
You don’t talk to me, Jake .
Well, duh. He hardly talked to anyone.
So what if he was a private guy? Did that make him a bad person or something?
He shoved all thoughts of Bree from his mind, trying to focus on the workout, the burn in his thighs and the slap of his shoes against the dirt.
That goddamn nightmare. Was it any wonder he couldn’t commit to the instructor position on the base? Every time he thought he was close to forgetting that op in Afghanistan, his subconscious shoved the memories directly into his brain, reminding him that his screw-up had cost a good man his life. How the fuck was he supposed to train other soldiers, teach them to trust their instincts, when his own instincts had failed him so abysmally?
He promptly pushed those thoughts away, too, but that only opened the door for more Bree thoughts to slither into his head.
Damn it. What was wrong with him? Ever since he’d watched Bree with his mother yesterday, he’d been overcome with emotions he had no idea how to decipher, and when Bree had come back later that night, his confusion had only deepened. They’d had yet another round of incredible, body-numbing sex, but when she’d been about to get dressed and go, he’d convinced her to spend the night with him. And not just because he’d wanted to fuck her again—which he had—but because he hadn’t wanted her to leave.
Twelve years ago, he’d done everything in his power to keep shit casual between them. Now, he found himself wanting to get to know Bree. He had plenty of carnal knowledge, but that didn’t seem to be enough anymore. He wanted to know about her life, her job, her favorite movies, what made her laugh, what pissed her off.
What the hell was up with that?
He slowed his pace, steadying his breathing as he neared a familiar clearing. Squinting, he peered through the trees and caught sight of the one-story cabin in the distance. Cooper Grady’s place. Man, he’d run a lot farther than he’d planned.
At the thought of Cooper, Jake was reminded of Lexie Price’s visit the
He put on a pair of long shorts and a ratty old T-shirt, then rolled socks onto his feet, making a conscious effort to avert his eyes. Guilt trickled through him as he heard Bree’s soft breathing, as he felt her gaze boring into him. He fought the urge to approach the bed and kiss her good morning, stroke her hair or some shit. With the way his body was humming from the anger and frustration sizzling in his blood, he feared he wouldn’t be gentle if he touched her.
Jake was halfway to the bathroom door when she spoke.
“That’s why.”
He turned, wariness flickering inside him. “What?”
“You looked confused yesterday when I shot down your dinner idea.” Her voice was soft, drowsy, but her eyes were alert as they pierced into his face. “But this, right now, is why I did.”
He stared at her in confusion.
“You don’t talk to me, Jake. You never have.”
Before he could question that enigmatic remark, she rolled over on her side and pulled the comforter up to her neck, effectively shutting him out.
Disconcerted as hell, he entered the washroom, where he hit the head and washed up. A few minutes later he left the dark bedroom and headed downstairs.
After shoving his feet into a pair of sneakers, he stepped outside and breathed in the cold morning air. The sky was overcast, a dismal gray sight made worse by the thick, black clouds creeping in from the west. Weather matched his mood, at least.
Jake took off running, sprinting toward the trees lining the edge of Nate’s property. Twigs cracked beneath his sneakers as he moved through the quiet woods. His ragged breaths came out white in the frigid air.
You don’t talk to me, Jake .
Well, duh. He hardly talked to anyone.
So what if he was a private guy? Did that make him a bad person or something?
He shoved all thoughts of Bree from his mind, trying to focus on the workout, the burn in his thighs and the slap of his shoes against the dirt.
That goddamn nightmare. Was it any wonder he couldn’t commit to the instructor position on the base? Every time he thought he was close to forgetting that op in Afghanistan, his subconscious shoved the memories directly into his brain, reminding him that his screw-up had cost a good man his life. How the fuck was he supposed to train other soldiers, teach them to trust their instincts, when his own instincts had failed him so abysmally?
He promptly pushed those thoughts away, too, but that only opened the door for more Bree thoughts to slither into his head.
Damn it. What was wrong with him? Ever since he’d watched Bree with his mother yesterday, he’d been overcome with emotions he had no idea how to decipher, and when Bree had come back later that night, his confusion had only deepened. They’d had yet another round of incredible, body-numbing sex, but when she’d been about to get dressed and go, he’d convinced her to spend the night with him. And not just because he’d wanted to fuck her again—which he had—but because he hadn’t wanted her to leave.
Twelve years ago, he’d done everything in his power to keep shit casual between them. Now, he found himself wanting to get to know Bree. He had plenty of carnal knowledge, but that didn’t seem to be enough anymore. He wanted to know about her life, her job, her favorite movies, what made her laugh, what pissed her off.
What the hell was up with that?
He slowed his pace, steadying his breathing as he neared a familiar clearing. Squinting, he peered through the trees and caught sight of the one-story cabin in the distance. Cooper Grady’s place. Man, he’d run a lot farther than he’d planned.
At the thought of Cooper, Jake was reminded of Lexie Price’s visit the
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