Secrets on Base (Hearts on Base #3)

Chapter 1

SERENA

The Rusty Spur smells like beer, burnt popcorn, and bad decisions. It’s perfect.

I slide onto a barstool and finally exhale. I’ve had twelve hours on my feet with two soldiers code blue in one shift. Thankfully we revived them, but the adrenaline spikes were intense. My scrubs are wrinkled, my ponytail is a disaster, and I'm fairly certain there's dried coffee on my sleeve.

But I'm here.

I’m off the clock, and Vivi promised me a drink.

"You look like garbage." My sister appears behind the bar and slides a whiskey sour in front of me without needing to ask.

"You’re not into scrub-chic?" I take a sip and groan. "God, that's good."

“Well, if anyone can pull the look off, it’s got to be you.” Vivi grins, but there's something different about her tonight. There’s a flush on her cheeks and a distracted quality to her eyes. She's here and working, but also somewhere else entirely.

"What's with you?" I ask.

"Nothing." She wipes down the bar, but she's smiling at her phone. “Someone new, I’m researching.”

"Vivi." I narrow my eyes. "Researching?”

"I’ll tell you more as I get closer." She raises a mischievous eyebrow in my direction and that checks out.

Vivi’s the reckless one. The fearless one. The one I've spent my whole life protecting from our mother's chaos and her own wild impulses. I open my mouth to push harder when the door swings open and a wall of noise crashes into the bar.

Suddenly this place is full of loud men in boots, jeans, and thin t-shirts stretched tight over shoulders. Ah, the military men have arrived.

There’s something about the way they carry themselves that lets me spot them a mile away. Even out of uniform there’s a confidence to them that’s sexy as hell. I ignore it of course. But the dangerous control still makes my stomach tighten.

I take another sip. Don't even think about it.

I've worked on Ridgeway Base for three years. I know the rules. I've seen nurses lose their jobs over a single rumor. All it takes is one misstep and I’d lose the best job I’ve ever had.

I can’t afford that kind of stress. I've got bills to pay, not to mention Vivi to think about. I’m our only backup plan.

I've clawed my life together with my bare hands after spending my childhood cleaning up our parent’s messes and I can’t go back. Besides, even if I could, I’m not the kind of woman who makes bad decisions in bars.

But Vivi nods over my shoulder and I turn to follow her line of sight. Every rational thought in my head evaporates.

One of the men is staring right at me. His eyes are dark and intent.

They land on me like a physical touch. He's taller than the others, with dark hair that's just long enough to be disheveled and a jaw that could cut glass.

Tattoos snake up his forearms and disappear under the sleeves of his black t-shirt.

When our eyes meet, something in my chest stutters.

He doesn't smile. Doesn't wave. Just... looks at me. It’s like he's cataloging me and memorizing every detail. My face flushes with heat. It’s like I’m the only person in this entire bar.

"You work with him?” Vivi’s voice pulls me back to the present.

"No." I tear my gaze away and take a too-big gulp of my drink. "Maybe. They are SERE guys, I think. Survival training instructors. The guys who teach soldiers how to survive being captured, tortured, stranded. The most intense, unbreakable men on base…” I trail off.

Of course he's one of them.

“That’s hot.” Vivi lets out a chuckle. “Should I call him over. Seems like he wants to chat with you.”

“Don’t you dare.” I finish my drink.

“Okay, you’re safe for now. Lucky I’ve got so many customers heading in.” She laughs as she slides me another drink and then turns her attention to the customers leaning over the bar.

I keep my eyes trained on the bartop. I'm not going to look again. I'm not.

Spoiler… I look again.

When I turn, I find him still watching me. His stare is bold and unapologetic. If this were another situation it’d be creepy. But some psychotic part of me finds pure comfort in his stare. The faintest hint of a smile tugs at the corner of his mouth and it’s like he's waiting for me to break.

Heat crawls up my neck.

No, I’m being crazy right now.

But crazy or not, I can’t look away. One of his squadmates says something, and the man laughs. It’s a low, rumbling sound that I can hear from here. I feel it in my stomach too. But his gaze doesn't leave mine.

Then someone jostles me from behind and it jolts me back to reality. I lurch forward, nearly spilling my drink. I turn to find a man stumbling into my side, reeking of cheap beer and cigarettes.

"Hey, sweetheart." His words slur together. "Buy you a drink?"

"I'm good, thanks." I try to turn back to the bar, but his hand lands on my arm, heavy and insistent.

"Excuse you." I jerk my arm away, but he doesn’t back up. “Hey—” I raise my voice, but before I can get another word out a furious growl bursts from behind us.

"She said she's good."

The voice is deep, calm, and absolutely terrifying.

It’s him.

The SERE guy is standing so close I can smell pine and smoke rippling off him. His eyes aren't on me anymore. Instead they're fixed on the drunk and there's nothing soft in them now. My head spins from the whirl of alcohol and chaos.

"Back off," the drunk mutters, but he's already shrinking.

"Now."

One fierce word is all it takes. The drunk releases my arm and stumbles away, muttering under his breath about military assholes. It’s over just as quickly as it started. The whole room seems to quiet just for us and all of a sudden he’s all I can see.

I should thank him.

I should say something.

But my heart is pounding so hard I can barely breathe. He's looking at me again with those dark, intense eyes, and up close he's even more overwhelmingly perfect.

"You okay?" His voice is soft now.

There’s a kindness to it that feels like it’s just for me.

"I—yes. Thank you. You didn't have to—"

"Yeah." He cuts me off, but gently. "I did."

Something passes between us. Something I don't have a name for. I should walk away. I should thank him politely, finish my drink, and go home to my quiet apartment and my responsible life and my endless list of things to worry about.

"I'm Blaze," he says.

"Serena."

"Serena. That's pretty." He says my name back to me, low and slow, like he's tasting it.

I'm blushing as I shake away his compliment. "Can I buy you a drink? To say thank you?"

His smile breaks through, and it transforms his whole face. In an instant he looks younger, but he’s no less intense. "Only if you let me buy the next round."

Say no Serena. Don’t be dumb. This isn’t something you do.

"Deal.”