Page 11 of Rugged Hero

I swallow hard against the sudden dryness in my throat. Bridget makes me feel like there is still happiness to be found in this world despite the scars I bear.

“Seriously though,” Reggie continues, turning back to me. “I’m happy for you, man. We all deserve to let a little joy and desire into our lives after the shit we’ve seen.”

He claps a hand on my shoulder, his expression sobering. “I hope Bridget can be for you what Marian is for me.”

I nod slowly, warmed by his words, even as a flicker of doubt stirs in my gut. “It’s maybe a little early to be talking like that...”

Reggie chuckles. “Man, when you know, you know. I knew from the first moment I laid eyes on Marian.” He meets my gaze with an intensity in his eyes. “Don’t be like me and spend years mooning over a woman before you do something about it. Bridget’s here right now and she’s clearly into you. So don’t fuck it up.”

I nod, and Reggie turns away to say something to Daryl. I watch him go, my mind considering his advice.

As much as I try to deny it, I can’t ignore my powerful attraction to Bridget. It’s like nothing I’ve ever experienced before. When I’m with her, the rest of the world fades away. She makes me forget the loss of my fellow soldiers and the scars I’ll wear forever, even if only for a little while. She makes me believe that my life can be more than painful memories.

I glance over at Bridget again, drinking in the sight of her. The soft fall of her hair, the warmth of her smile, the luscious dip and swell of her curves...

My heart beats faster looking at her. Shit. Reggie’s right. I can’t screw this up.

Every time Bridget looks at me, really looks at me, I swear she sees past all my demons to the man I used to be and the man I want to be again.

Bridget drifts back to my side during a break, slipping an arm around my waist. She gives me a little squeeze, her touch electric even through my shirt.

I marvel at how easy it is to be with her, the way her body fits perfectly against mine. It feels like we’ve been doing this for years instead of hours.

Lowering my head, I murmur in her ear. “You seem right at home with the ladies tonight.”

Bridget beams up at me, not pulling away an inch. “They’re amazing. But I have to admit...” Her voice drops huskily. “My favorite part of the night is right here.”

My pulse kicks up a notch at the heated look in her eyes. I slowly skim my hand up her back, relishing how she shivers beneath my touch. I lightly tease my fingers against the nape of her neck, running my thumb along the sensitive skin there.

Her lips part with a soft gasp, and I swallow hard. It would be so easy to lower my head and claim that tempting mouth again. To get lost in her sweetness.

Bridget lays a hand on my chest, no doubt feeling the heavy thud of my heart under her palm. Her gaze locks on mine, stripping me bare, seeing into the very depths of my soul.

“Moses,” she whispers...

Thwack-thunk!

The sharp cracks of Nathan’s axe hitting the wooden target yank us back to the present. My body tenses involuntarily at the explosive sounds.

Bridget’s fingers find mine, lacing through them and squeezing lightly. Her gentle touch grounds me and chases away the shadows threatening the edges of my mind.

I shake my head, reeling that this woman I’ve known for such a short time can read me so easily.

Another series of thunks rings out as Nathan’s throws find their mark again and again. The crowd hoots and hollers, spurring him on.

“Gotta admit,” I mutter grudgingly, “he’s better at this than I expected.”

As a fellow mountain man, I’ve seen Nathan swing an axe with precision, but I had no idea he could throw with such lethal accuracy.

The timer sounds, and Nathan’s final axe splits the bullseye clean in two. The men thump him on the back as his score is tallied. Third place. Not too shabby.

Nathan grins like a kid at Christmas as we all congratulate him, his chest puffed out and cheeks ruddy above his beard. Teresa comes over to hug him and gives him a big kiss, which sets the other men yelling about it being time to get a room.

I clear my throat, trying to control my rising desire for Bridget. “You about ready to head out?”

Bridget looks up at me, her eyes glinting with a spark that tells me she feels the way I do. “I’m ready when you are.”

We make the rounds, saying our goodbyes. The guys holler about getting together again soon, and the ladies pull Bridget into fierce hugs like they’ve been friends for years instead of hours. Pride swells in my chest, seeing how easily she fits, how wholly they’ve welcomed her. As I watch her with everyone, there isn’t a doubt in my mind that she fits with everyone and that she enjoys their company.

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