Chapter 1 #2
“A sister in Washington. But I don’t want to involve her. And we aren’t close,” Bree told him.
“Parents?”
“Well, I wasn’t hatched, if that’s what you’re asking,” Bree told him with a slight grin.
There it was again. Smiley was already addicted to this woman’s smiles. Because he had a feeling that, like him, she didn’t smile often. Each one was a gift. A reward. And he craved them like he craved the adrenaline rush he got while on a mission.
“You close to them?” he asked, returning to their discussion.
“I was. But my mom got colon cancer a few years ago and passed. My dad was hit by a drunk driver just a couple months later.”
“Shit, Bree. I’m sorry.”
She shrugged. “Yeah, it wasn’t a good time in my life.”
Smiley figured that was a massive understatement.
“My dad used to beat the shit out of my mom while I hid under the bed in my room,” he blurted. “I should’ve done more to stop it. Stop him.” He wasn’t sure why he was telling her this, except that she was sharing painful memories, and he felt as if he needed to reciprocate.
“How old were you?”
“Six. Seven. Ten. It went on for quite a few years.”
“Smiley, you were a kid. What could you have done?”
But he shook his head. He’d never forget those mornings, finding his mom in the kitchen the next morning, making him breakfast, covered in bruises.
Sometimes still bleeding…and smiling at him, pretending nothing was wrong.
All while his dad was passed out on the couch, snoring loudly, still drunk from the night before.
He did his best to push the memories to the back of his mind.
“I’ll make sure your sister is covered, that no one will go through her to get to you.
I’m going to need as much information as you can give me.
The name of your ex—that asshole who sold you—what he did, where you worked, friends… everything.”
Bree sighed and closed her eyes. Seeing the frown on her face made Smiley’s insides twist.
“Sometimes I can’t believe this is my life. I had a job that I didn’t love but was at least good at. A boyfriend. People I hung out with and considered friends. And now I’m homeless, on the run from a man who wants to use and abuse me in the worst ways, and wondering where I went wrong.”
“Most of the time it’s not you who went wrong, it’s just life. It has a way of shitting on you when you least expect it.”
Bree’s eyes opened, and Smiley could feel the weight of her stare as she asked, “Do you truly believe that?”
“Yes.”
“You need more fun in your life, Smiley.”
He snorted. “Fun? Killing terrorists is fun. Blowing up ships full of people who want nothing more than to kill innocent civilians is fun. Seeing evil people get what’s coming to them is fun.”
“Um, that’s not the kind of fun I was talking about,” she told him. “I meant…bowling nights. Picnics in the park. Lying on the sand at the beach, soaking up the sun.”
“That’s not fun. That’s torture. I hate sand,” Smiley said.
“Of course you do,” she said, laughing.
Fuck. He was doomed. Every time he made this woman smile, he felt a surge of pride and contentment coursing through him. He’d spend the rest of his life saying stupid things and making a fool of himself if it meant seeing the current look on her face.
And if having a job, a roof over her head, and friends to hang out with was all it took to make her happy, he could easily give her all those things.
He wasn’t sure he was boyfriend material, he was too…
hard. Too cynical. But if having a boyfriend was also something she wanted, he’d bend over backward to be the kind of man she could rely on.
Smiley wasn’t even freaking out that he was thinking long-term when it came to this woman.
She’d been the center of his world for months now.
He’d worried about her every minute of the day and night.
And now she was here. Safe. On his couch.
It was no wonder he didn’t have any concerns about giving her anything she needed to be happy.
“How about you get some more sleep,” he suggested grumpily.
“What about you?”
“What about me what?” Smiley asked.
“Are you going to sleep? You can’t sit in that chair all night, watching me. I promise not to leave, Smiley.”
The hell he couldn’t stay here all night. He’d slept in this chair more times than he could count. And damn straight she wasn’t leaving—he wouldn’t let her. She needed help. Help only he and his connections could give her.
Bree Haynes was about to find out that coming to Riverton was the best decision she’d ever made.
She wanted friends? She was already close with Kelli; it wouldn’t take much for her to be integrated into the fold with the other women, especially Addison.
She would want to meet the woman who’d saved her daughter and stepdaughter.
And Caroline Steel and her crew would definitely take her under their wings too.
Bree had no idea how much her life was about to change.
“Smiley? Did you hear me? I promise not to sneak out in the middle of the night.”
“You think you could? I am a SEAL, after all,” he told her.
“Is that a challenge?” she asked, with a lift of her chin.
“No!” he barked, suddenly afraid she’d decide to prove that she could sneak out without him knowing.
“Relax,” she told him, laughing again, “I’m too tired to do anything more than sleep…tonight.”
“Fuck,” he swore, realizing the can of worms he’d inadvertently opened.
Bree giggled.
Honest-to-God giggled—and Smiley knew he was a goner.
He’d spent the first thirty years of his life being annoyed by giggling. And now he found himself getting hard by the sound of this woman doing that exact thing.
Settling into the chair, Smiley pulled a blanket hanging off the back over his lap. The last thing he wanted was to have Bree notice his erection. It was inappropriate, and given everything happening with her life, it would probably scare the shit out of her.
“Sleep, Bree,” he ordered gruffly.
“Smiley?”
“You aren’t sleeping,” he told her.
She smiled again. Each one burrowing further and further into his heart.
Then her smile disappeared. “I appreciate any help you can give me, but if things don’t work out, if he finds me…you aren’t allowed to feel guilty.”
Guilt was a part of Smiley’s life. He carried the mantle of guilt that he hadn’t done anything to help his mother, and it wasn’t about to disappear now.
As much as he wanted to tell Bree that whoever was after her wouldn’t find her, he couldn’t. He knew better than most people that bad shit happened in life. Hell, she did too, which was why she was bringing this up now. But he could make her a vow.
“If he finds you, I’ll come after you. I won’t stop until I’ve found you—and he’s got my bullet in his forehead.” It was a violent and depressing thing to say, but Smiley didn’t regret it.
“Promise?” Bree whispered.
“Promise.”