The Returning Hero. Soraya Lane

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the bar.

      Brett couldn’t have agreed more. He felt like they were on a date, the two of them heading out for the evening, and it didn’t help that he was thinking things he wished he wasn’t about Jamie. The music was loud but not overpowering, and because it was still early it wasn’t completely packed with people yet.

      He looked around for Logan, desperate to see him. Once they found him, he could go get some drinks, leave the pair of them to catch up and deal with getting his head in the right space. It was bad enough that he’d spent the day before with Jamie, but seeing her again tonight was too much, too soon.

      “There he is.”

      Jamie was leaning into him, talking into his ear over the noise and the music. He looked where she was pointing, groaning as she took hold of his hand. He got it; she was probably nervous about being out on the town without her husband, was reaching to him for support. But the way he was feeling right now, he didn’t need her hand thrust into his, fingers interlaced as she walked slightly ahead of him toward Logan.

      When they reached him Brett pulled his hand away and ran it through his hair instead. He needed to get it together, and fast. Logan would notice straight away if anything was going on, and he didn’t want to be interrogated by anyone—especially not his best mate. Logan would be the first person to call him to task if he knew even the half of what he’d been thinking.

      “Hey, Jamie.” Logan jumped off the bar stool and wrapped his arms around her, giving her a big hug.

      When he let go, Brett stepped forward and greeted him, grabbing hold of one of his hands and slapping him on the back at the same time. They hadn’t seen each other in months.

      “How are you, stranger?”

      Brett shrugged. “Better now I’ve seen you.”

      They stared at one another, so much unsaid, but it only lasted a moment. Logan knew what had happened, would be the only person in Brett’s life who would ever come close to understanding what he’d experienced, although even he couldn’t imagine how disturbing it had been, how violent. They hadn’t seen each other in a long while, had a lot of catching up to do.

      Brett shook off his thoughts. “What are we drinking? My shout.”

      “Start with a beer or straight to bourbon?” Logan asked.

      Jamie laughed, and Brett angled his body to better include her. He’d been so wound up in seeing Logan again that he’d almost forgotten about her. Brett touched his palm to her back, moving her forward between them and taking a step back to make room for her.

      “I think we’ll start with beer. How about you?”

      Jamie smiled. “Um, maybe a cocktail for me.”

      Logan raised his eyebrows and Brett laughed. “So maybe we’ll start with bourbon then, if you’re hitting the strong stuff straight away.”

      Jamie leaned over the counter to reach for a menu. “It’s been a looong time since I’ve been out. Can’t you tell? The only cocktail I can think of is a Cosmopolitan from Sex and the City, but there must be something else....”

      “Long Island iced teas,” Logan announced. “Three of them.”

      Jamie pushed her shoulders up, shrugging, an innocent expression on her face. Brett needed to warn her.

      “They’re kind of potent,” he said.

      Her smile was sweet enough to make him feel dirty for admiring her cleavage when she leaned forward.

      “Lucky I have you two to look after me then, huh?” She put an arm around each of them, her smile infectious. “I need a night of just having fun, so order away, boys. I’m in.”

      Brett did as he was told and watched her walk off with Logan, looking for a quieter, more comfortable place to sit. They all had a lot to talk about, or maybe they didn’t. Maybe tonight was about letting Jamie have fun without feeling guilty, just being there for her and making sure she had a good time and got home safely at the end of the evening.

      He just had to remind himself that he would have plenty to be guilty about if he ever let himself give in to the way he was feeling about her. Brett paid for the drinks and stuffed his wallet back in his pocket, before carrying their drinks to the table. He could see Jamie leaning toward Logan, talking, touching his shoulder as they discussed something that had her smiling. Logan was rock-solid, the perfect guy to be spending time with Jamie, because he would honor his word and never do anything that would jeopardize their friendship or the one he’d had with Sam. Trouble was, it wasn’t Logan who was spending time with Jamie, because he was still working.

      “Drink up,” he announced, placing the tall glasses on the table and sitting down beside Jamie.

      The way she looked at him took him by surprise, made him hope that Logan hadn’t noticed it, but maybe he was just being oversensitive.

      “To Sam,” Logan said, holding up his drink. “A good soldier, a damn good friend and husband to the sweetest woman I’ve ever met.”

      Brett glanced at Jamie, saw her eyes were damp. He held up his own glass. “Cheers to that.”

      They all took a sip, but Jamie was spluttering as soon as she’d swallowed her first mouthful.

      “Are you guys trying to kill me? This stuff is like poison.”

      Brett laughed. “It gets better. Just keep drinking.”

      “Has Brett shown you his new tattoo?” Logan asked.

      Jamie shook her head, looking at him. “Nope.” She took another sip and grimaced again.

      “Brett had his done as soon as he was out of recovery, and I got mine when I touched down in Australia.”

      “You have new matching ones?” she asked. “Can I see?”

      Logan pushed his T-shirt 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

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