Page 66 of Mr. Big Mistake
He nodded. “Look.”
I scanned my eyes over the horizon before I saw what he was referencing. Black dots appeared before they got closer and closer, and I noticed what they were.
“Are those ships?” I asked.
He pulled me close. “Even better. Those are Navy ships in the distance, all moving in a line. There’s probably a cadence of some sort being called right now.”
I looked up at him. “How do you know all of this?”
He looked down at me. “Clint.”
“That’s right. He was a Navy SEAL.”
“Uh-huh. And if I’m guessing right, those are SEALs out there right now.”
“Wait, seriously?”
“Mhm. It’s called ‘hell week.’ Five intensive days of training, drilling, cadence-calling, and cuts before a new SEAL team is formed and ready for active duty. Clint told me during his hell week that he never got more than four hours of sleep.”
“A night?”
“Nope. Overall.”
My jaw dropped. “What!?”
His eyes turned back out towards the water. “Yep. Our military men and women go through literal hell to make sure we’re safe. To make sure we can prosper and be what we are. And while I don’t always agree with Clint, I’ll always respect him for what he’s done. Because I sure as hell could never do something like that.”
I placed my hand on his chest. “You’re a good brother, Brenden. And a good man. Don’t ever let someone tell you differently.”
I watched something crawl across his face before he sighed.
“I needed to hear that. Thank you.”
I laid my head against him. “Of course. Anytime.”
He drew in a curt breath. “So! Ready for that bathing suit? I’m thinking a nice stringed bikini with those little triangle nipple things.”
I shook my head. “You wish.”
“Trust me, I really do.”
And that’s when I figured it out. That’s when I realized it. Brenden wasn’t the kind of man we thought him to be at all. It was a facade for the type of man he had become because, for some reason, the man he had become wasn’t good enough for someone. I knew what that looked like, too, because I’d gone through it myself. With my own father. Though, I never really talked about that much.
Maybe I should at dinner.
Maybe if I talked about it at dinner, he’d talk about what was on his mind.
And the thought made me eager to skip right to the food.
18
Brenden
“And here’s your door, milady.”
Kelly giggled. “Milady, huh? You’re a proper drunk, aren’t you?”
I held up my finger. “Excuse me, miss. I am not drunk.”
