Hard: A Military Stepbrother Romance Read Online Free PDF Page A

first squadron were
still deployed.
    “Just
us this time round, and Ace - saw him last night. Screwed his leg a month ago
and been sitting pretty back here waiting on the physio’s word.”
    “Bad?”
    Dale
only grinned at my grimace.
    “Nah,
just enough to keep him here for a new girl he’s sweet on - lucky bastard to
the end. He might be bringing her along, too.”
    “Trying
to scare her off already, huh? Well, looks like I’ll have to tag along - can’t
leave Becky and a nice new girl alone with your ugly mugs.”
    I
turned toward the door, sending a grin back over my shoulder.
    “Be
sure to tell Ryan not to worry - we’ll make sure his wife’s fully satisfied
while he’s gone.”
    I
didn’t wait to hear the reply, aware that every moment I lingered was making me
later, but I struggled to care too much as Dale’s subtle attempt to shift my
mood worked.
    Sure,
it was a casual invitation he would have given me anyway, but the grizzled
veteran saw too much and knew me well enough to pick his moment. Being back in
this town always got under my skin, threatening everything I’d become with the
insidious reminder of my teenage years - but he’d brought back front-and-center
the fact that I had a place now, brothers in arms I would kill or die for
without a moment’s hesitation. Life and loyalty, with a code that had finally
set me on a path that meant something. I could go and deal with whatever this
evening held, and the people I actually wanted to be around would be waiting
here when I was done.
    The
Navy had taken me in, chewed me up and spat me back out - honed the wild edge
that had been the bane of everyone I’d grown up with, disciplined it and turned
it into a laser-sharp weapon. And even if I couldn’t quite leave my bad boy
nature behind, at least they’d given me something worth respecting.
    I
turned into the showers, stripped and stepped inside for a 30-second blast of
hot water before rubbing myself dry and changing into a fresh set of clothes -
civilian, this time. Decorum might dictate a little more preparation for a
‘meeting-your-new-step-father’ dinner, but fuck decorum. He might as well get
to know who I actually was. Besides, I was late, so first impressions were
already shot.
    Dropping
my workout gear in my dorm and pocketing my phone, keys and wallet was all that
I needed before heading out to the old pickup truck and swinging myself up and
in. It’s familiar gleam always gave me a sweet satisfaction - the thing had
been banged up and barely usable when I’d bought it near-scrap, but putting
something back together had been a nice antidote to the unexpected darkness I’d
struggled with after my first tour. Turns out there was a difference between
growing up sure you were a badass motherfucker and actually living with the
knowledge that if it came to it, you could be a relentless killing machine.
    I’d
seen guys deal with it in different ways - for me, knowing I could fix
something up instead of just destroy, that had been enough. And the prize had
been an old 2002 model that gave me pride to keep functioning and pretty as a
babe.
    I
started the engine and felt it hum to life underneath me, punching in the post
code my mother had sent and hearing the slight roar as I put my foot on the
gas. It was hot even with the sun starting to disappear and the open window was
a relief to the heat that was still emanating from my workout.
    Turning
out of the complex and heading onto the wide roads leading into the town, I
felt the same flicker of guilt my infrequent visits home always brought. My
mother deserved better than these half-hearted efforts to see her and the
callous way I talked, but it had been hard to come home a different person and
see nothing else had changed since I’d left.
    I
don’t hate her for that - she can’t help being who she is and I’ve given up
wanting and expecting more than she can give. It’s just hard to be around her -
that crappy childhood may have made me