Page 6 of Rugged Hero

Thunk.

The log splits in two. I grab another from the pile, position it on the stump, and swing my axe again. Whoosh, thunk. The repetitive motion, the brute force of it, usually helps clear my head. But today, nothing can keep my thoughts from Bridget.

That kiss. I can still feel the press of her soft lips on mine, the sweet taste of her. It awakened something deep inside that I thought was long dead and buried.

I want her with a desire so fierce it scares me. It terrifies me because everyone I’ve ever cared for, I’ve lost. My brothers-in-arms in the Army were all gone in a flash of fire and shrapnel, leaving me the sole survivor.

I drop the axe and rub a hand over my chest, feeling the thick ridges of scar tissue through my T-shirt. The puckered skin is a permanent reminder of the worst day of my life. How was I so unlucky to survive?

Wincing, I roll my shoulders and stretch my arms overhead, trying to ease the ache from swinging the axe. Without thinking, I flow into one of the poses from Bridget’s yoga class, my arms extended. I take a deep breath and move to another pose.

Much as I initially thought yoga was a bunch of malarkey, I have to admit the little I’ve learned so far is helping. My muscles are looser, and for the first time since the IED explosion, I’m able to quiet my mind.

I finish my stretches and pick up the axe again. Maybe there is something to this yoga stuff after all. I’m not quitting anytime soon, if for no other reason than it affords me a chance to see Bridget. I’ll do poses slightly wrong if it means I can feel her hands on my body, guiding me to the proper form.

“Well, well, look at you, getting all New Age on us,” a familiar voice drawls.

I freeze mid-swing, axe poised over my head. Reggie. A grunt escapes me as I follow through and split the log, the crack echoing through the woods.

Propping the axe against the chopping block, I turn to face him. Reggie leans against a tree at the edge of the clearing, grinning at me like he caught me in a secret. I like the guy well enough, and we work together with security, especially when I need drone footage of an area. We’re still not close, though.

“The hell are you on about?” I ask, cocking an eyebrow.

Reggie smirks. “Were you or were you not doing yoga when I walked up?”

Heat creeps up my neck that has nothing to do with the sun beating down on me. I clear my throat. “Maybe I was. So what?”

“Hey, man, no judgment. Just never pegged you for the downward dog type, is all.”

I roll my eyes, but there’s no real annoyance behind it. “Yeah, well, it actually helps.”

Reggie’s eyes go wide. “No shit? Good for you, man. It’s helping with the stress?”

An image of Bridget flashes through my mind—her gentle smile, soft curves, and lips pressed to mine. I swallow hard and look away, trying to shove down the conflicting swell of desire and panic rising in my chest.

“Too soon to tell,” I say, picking up the axe again to have something to do with my hands. “But yeah. It seems that way.”

Reggie tilts his head, studying me in that keen way of his that makes me feel like he can see right through my bullshit. “You okay, man? You seem distracted.”

I debate brushing him off, but something in his open expression gives me pause. We may not confide in each other, but he’s the man I’m closest to up here, probably because he’s the one I’m in contact with most, aside from Waylon. Maybe it’s time to open up about what’s on my mind. Like friends do. Like teammates do.

I blow out a breath and set the axe down, bracing myself. “I kissed my yoga instructor.” The words tumble out in a rush, like a dam breaking. “Bridget. I...I can’t stop thinking about her.”

A slow grin spreads across Reggie’s face. “Well, hot damn. Looks like someone’s finally thawing out that crusty exterior.”

I scowl at him, but I can’t help chuckling. He’s not wrong. Bridget makes me feel...alive. It’s thrilling and terrifying in equal measure.

“You seeing her again?” Reggie asks, walking across the clearing toward me.

I rub the back of my neck, sudden uncertainty churning in my gut. “I have another class in a few days. But the kiss...it happened during a private session. I’m worried I overstepped.”

Reggie frowns. “Was she into it?”

I remember the breathy moan Bridget made when I deepened the kiss, the way she melted against me and pulled me closer. “Yeah, she was definitely into it.”

Reggie laughs, clapping me on the shoulder. “Damn, Moses. That’s the first real smile I’ve seen on your face in...maybe ever. This girl must be something special.”

I duck my head, warmth blooming in my chest that has nothing to do with the summer heat. “She is,” I admit quietly. “She really is.”

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