The Hero She Needs (Unbroken Heroes Book 1)(13)
She leaned into the cushions. “What branch were you in?”
“I joined the Army. I ended up in Delta.”
“Special forces. Wow.” She paused. “You worked with Vander.”
“He was my commander.”
“That man is a whole lot of scary.”
“He is. Makes him good in the field.”
She tucked her legs up under her. “My father said Vander was in some special program. Ghost Ops.” She paused. “You were, too?”
“I can’t talk about it.”
Ghost Ops took the best of the best from all the special forces to make elite teams. Teams that went to the worst places to do the worst, most impossible missions.
“You must’ve done some dangerous jobs.”
His fingers curled into his palm.
“And seen some terrible things,” she whispered quietly.
“I got out. I’m alive.”
“But others didn’t?”
“No, they didn’t. Good men. With families.”
“I bet their families are proud of them. Boone, thank you for your service. Because of men like you, and your friends, who fight for us, protect us, I’ve never seen terrible things.”
The ever-present pressure inside him eased just a little. It was why he’d served. He was good at it, but he believed in protecting his country. Protecting innocents from the bad in the world.
“Thanks, Gemma.”
She nudged him. Her warm body was so close to his.
Lock it down, Hendrix.
“So, what else do you and Atlas watch on TV? Apart from Cake and Bake?”
“Football.”
“Mm. What’s your favorite team?”
“The Packers.”
“I’m a Broncos girl, myself.”
“Not the Rams?”
As they talked, he eased into the cushions, his body relaxing. The last grip of the nightmare leaked away. He liked her voice. It had a low, sexy undertone to it.
Somehow talk of football turned to favorite foods, favorite movies, then Boone sharing about living in small town Vermont.
But before he knew it, Gemma was leaning into his side, tucked up against him. He felt her shiver and wrapped his arm around her. He pulled the blanket over both of them.
They kept talking. And for Boone, the world just disappeared.
In that quiet moment in front of the fireplace, there was no bad stuff in the world, no wars, no old scars, and no nightmares.
Boone woke to a warm weight resting on top of him.
He frowned, and realized he was lying on his back on the couch, with Gemma lying on top of him.
Damn. She was warm, her face in profile where it rested against his chest. She looked relaxed. She had really long eyelashes.
His cock responded to the feel of her, lengthening.
Shit.
He liked this. Liked her. Too much. Gemma Newhouse was not for him.
He was just keeping her safe. That was it.
Slowly, he shifted, and she made a cute, sleepy sound, and rubbed her cheek on his bare pec. His cock got harder.
Closing his eyes, he moved a hand to nudge her off him…and touched skin.
Oh, hell. He slid his hand over her. He realized her shirt had ridden up, baring her ass.
She wasn’t wearing any panties.
His fingers tightened on lush skin. He froze and counted to ten. He opened his eyes…and saw his dog glaring at him accusingly from beside the couch.
Jesus. Cursing in his head, Boone maneuvered. He slid Gemma onto the couch and stood.
She turned, snuggling into the cushions. He hesitated, then tucked the blanket around her.
He turned and shot his dog a look. “What are you looking at?”
Atlas gave a low woof.
Jaw tight, Boone headed for the front door. He flexed his fingers.
He really needed a distraction.
Stretching, Gemma opened her eyes and smiled.
She felt well rested and relaxed.
Warm, aged, golden wood came into view. Oh. Boone’s cabin. Everything rushed in on her.
The abduction. The men after her.
Ugh. Suddenly, she didn’t feel so great.
Although, the memories of being held tight in Boone’s arms as they’d slept on the couch were good.
She sat up. There was no sign of him, even though it was still early.
She rose and pushed her tangled hair back. She could hear a rhythmic thwack, thwack, thwack that she now recognized.
Peering out of the window, she spotted Boone at the woodpile. She almost swallowed her tongue. He was shirtless, with just gray sweatpants riding low on his lean hips.
Holy moly. She felt like a sugar rush had just hit. He was ripped. He had hard muscles and delineated ridges at his abdomen. She’d seen plenty of in-shape guys in California, but she knew for Boone, these muscles were hard earned. They were ones he used in real life, not just in the gym.
He’d clearly been at it for a while. His skin was sheened with sweat.
He looked like he was working off his demons. She remembered a few of the things he’d shared the night before.
She knew that it must just be the tip of the iceberg. Whatever he’d seen and done and endured, even if it was for the greater good, had left scars.
She wanted to do something nice for him.
In the kitchen, she hummed to herself as she made some hot chocolate. She found two stainless-steel travel mugs and poured the drinks. It was her own special, ultra-chocolatey recipe.