It's Always Been You by Jessica Scott Page A

more she learned about him and his minions, the more she wanted—badly—to see him punished for abusing his power. Half the packets on her desk were there because Marshall hadn’t been doing his job.
    She backed up against her desk and knocked Ben’s Stetson to the floor. “Ugh, I still haven’t gone to the store.”
    “You didn’t get one yet?” Ben leaned down and scooped up his Stetson, then set it on top of the files, then looked down at his watch. “What are you doing for lunch?”
    “Working.”
    “Not anymore. Come on. I’ll buy you lunch at McDonalds or something equally romantic but you can’t walk around tomorrow without a Stetson.”
    She didn’t move. “Why are you doing this?” she asked abruptly. “One minute, we’re arguing, the next you’re taking me to buy a silly hat.”
    “Bite your tongue and never repeat that.” His lips twitched at the edges, reminding her of that first smile the other morning. “Besides, maybe I find interpersonal hostility deeply sexy.” He picked up his Stetson from the top of the pile of folders.
    Her lips twitched. “Do you?”
    “Maybe.” His mouth crooked at one corner. He stood a little too close. His shoulders were a little too broad.
    “You’re a complicated man,” she whispered.
    “So are you,” he said. “Woman, I mean.” A flush crawled up his neck.
    She laughed out loud, covering her mouth at the unexpected sensation. It was such a rare thing for her to laugh with someone. To feel this easiness.
    Like something she might start to crave if she wasn’t careful.
    “A Stetson is tradition,” he said, his voice rough. “And you want to fit in, right?”
    “You don’t strike me as a traditional kind of guy,” she said.
    “Depends on the tradition.” He tapped the patch on his right shoulder. “Like this one. Why is it so important?”
    “I already told you that,” she said softly, not liking where this line of questioning was heading.
    “No, you told me why you wouldn’t wear your patch from Kuwait, not why wearing one you earned was important to you. There’s a difference.”
    Olivia’s skin prickled at the question. Her breath caught in her throat. She retreated against her desk, rubbing her hand over her face. He’d struck a sore spot with that comment. A direct hit at the aching feelings of always being on the outside. Striking at the heart of her insecurity. “The Stetson is as serious as a combat patch?”
    “Yes,” Ben said simply.
    Olivia sighed, grateful that her hands had stopped shaking now that the threat from Captain Marshall had passed, both in its proximity and from her body’s reaction. “Fine.”
    Ben frowned then narrowed his eyes. “You’re not going to argue anymore?”
    “Are you going to stop pestering me?” He folded his arms over his chest and looked every bit the belligerent warrior. “See? It’s not a good use of my energy.”
    She could see him calculating. She wasn’t entirely sure why she agreed to go with him. Maybe the situation with Marshall had unnerved her a little more than she was willing to admit. Ben’s timing had been perfect.
    And beneath the swagger of male egos, she’d seen something intriguing. Beneath the smart mouth and wise cracks, there was something deeper.
    Something serious that Ben Teague tried to hide from the world. But she kept catching glimpses of it and the more she saw, the more curious she became. What else was there to this man who rejected the idea of command and leadership and all the things army officers were supposed to grow up to be?
    * * *
    “Whose files did you drop off?” she asked as they drove out of Fort Hood’s main gate.
    He couldn’t quite figure out what he was doing with the lawyer. She sat next to him in his truck, her hands twisting in her lap. She was nervous, that much he could tell. She was usually always so confident, so strict and businesslike.
    To see her a little nervous? A little vulnerable? It did something to his insides. Made