up, rolling his arm around to show the words marked in black ink, curling letters over four short rows.
“‘Fight a battle for a cause that’s worth the victory. Fight a war that’s worth dying for. Remain brave in death. Honor those you love.’” Jamie stared at Logan’s arm as she finished reading the words.
Brett knew she was fighting emotion, because her voice had become low and husky, a deeper tone than he’d ever heard from her. He responded by rolling up his shirt until he could show her his matching ink, only just able to push the fabric high enough for her to see it.
Jamie turned to inspect his properly, trailing her fingers across each word as if she were writing them, committing them to memory. Her touch was light, and when her hand dropped to land on his thigh, it almost made him lose the drink he’d just reached for.
“You did these for Sam, didn’t you?” she asked.
Brett nodded when she looked at him, and Logan did the same.
“Well, they’re beautiful,” she said, dabbing her eyes with the back of her fingers. “Maybe I should get one, too?”
“No,” Brett said, faster than he’d meant to.
“I don’t think so,” Logan chimed in, almost as quickly.
Jamie raised an eyebrow, looking puzzled. “Because I’m a girl? They’re not exactly military tattoos, are they?”
Brett looked to Logan for help but didn’t receive any. He cleared his throat, not wanting to dig himself a hole that he couldn’t claw his way out of, but not having any intention of letting her ink herself.
“Your skin is beautiful and you don’t need any ink, Jamie. Don’t go rushing into anything.”
“Just keep wearing that tag,” Logan added. “It’s what he would have wanted.”
She laughed and took a hearty sip of her drink, before slowly downing the rest of it.
“Bottoms up, boys,” she announced, grinning at them over the top of her glass.
Brett and Logan exchanged looks before shrugging and following her lead.
“My round this time. Another?” Jamie asked.
They both said yes and watched her walk away, like two bodyguards ready to pounce on anyone who so much as bumped into her.
“‘Your skin is so beautiful’?” Logan mimicked, punching him in the arm. “Seriously, couldn’t you have come up with anything better than that?”
Brett glared at him. “It wasn’t like you were stepping in to help me out.”
“Yeah, I was too busy watching you swooning over her. You know she’s out of bounds, right? Because I’ll…”
Brett gave him a playful shove, trying to laugh the comment off. “You don’t have to tell me, I know.”
“I miss him, Brett. I seriously miss him.”
Brett leaned back in his seat, watching Jamie at the bar as she leaned toward the bartender to place her order. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t noticed the dog tag she was wearing around her neck, but then he’d been trying his hardest not to look at her chest, and the way the tag was being swallowed by her breasts… Brett cleared his throat. That wasn’t something he needed to think about right now. Sam had been like his surrogate brother, and he would never disrespect anyone he considered family.
“I can’t stop thinking about that day. It’s screwed up, Logan. The things I saw, what happened, I just wish I could forget it all, for good.”
Brett shut his eyes, blocked the memories out, doing what he always did. Because forcing them away was a damn sight easier than dealing with them, and he didn’t want to go there, not now.
“I’m going to go help her carry the drinks back,” he announced, needing to move.
Before Logan guessed that he also couldn’t stop thinking about Jamie, in all the wrong ways.
* * *
Jamie leaned back into Brett, eyes shut, the room starting to spin. She’d had three cocktails, but she wasn’t exactly used to drinking and it felt like three too many.
“I don’t feel so good.”
Brett’s arm was suddenly looped around her shoulders, holding her closer to his