Page 23 of Brawler
“I’m never going to live this down,” Easy said, “But in my defense, I have a sister.” He still paused, ready and willing to put himself out there. “Cinderella had enough guts to defy her stepmother and believe in a fairy godmother who turned mice into four white horses, rats into footmen, and an actual pumpkin into a coach. Now that’s using the law of attraction for manifestation.”
Shark chuckled. “And your fave?”
Easy smiled. “You’re a fucking bastard.” Easy gave Bondo a shared suffering look. “Mulan. She was tough, determined, driven by duty and sacrifice, but she comes from a loving family that initially viewed her unconventional nature with tolerance. She has the least romantic complications in the movie.”
“You’ve thought way too hard about this,” Flash said with glee. “And you, oh-bald-one?”
“I’m going to kill you in your sleep.”
“I have catlike reflexes,” Flash said. “Spill your guts, big man.”
“Is this a patrol or a Disney on parade?” Tex growled.
Emily snorted. Lunatics for sure, but with amazing layers.
Brawler shot him a look sharp enough to cut steel, getting back to your taunt. “Pretty doesn’t keep you alive in a firefight.”
Emily tipped her head, unbothered by the warning in his voice. “No, but it certainly doesn’t hurt.”
That earned a low whistle from Easy, while Shark’s rumble of laughter rolled through the trees. Even Tex’s mouth twitched like he was fighting a grin.
Brawler’s jaw flexed, muscle ticking as he turned away, muttering something under his breath that sounded suspiciously liketrouble with a capital T.
Then, because of course he would, Flash started humming “Holding Out for a Hero” under his breath. Off-key, but loud enough that everyone caught it.
Easy choked back a laugh. Shark muttered, “Christ, Flash,” but his shoulders were shaking. Even Tex’s mouth tugged at the corner.
Emily pressed her lips together, trying and failing not to grin. What the hell? She actually liked these lunatics.
Brawler stopped dead, turned, and leveled him with a look that promised murder. The kind of glare that could break a man in half without lifting a finger.
Emily blinked at the silent exchange, then couldn’t help herself. “I’m just curious. Is this a typical team dynamic? TheI’m-going-to-kill-you-with-my-bare-handsvibe? I have to say, I’m a scientist, and now I’m seriously considering a dissertation on trash-talking among big, scary, alpha males. What do you think my topic would be?The Evolutionary Function of Mockery in Male Bonding Rituals?”
Easy snorted. Shark coughed into his fist. Flash looked delighted. “Sign me up for your case study, Doc.”
Brawler’s jaw worked once, twice. Then, almost grudgingly, his mouth curved, more a threat than a smile. “Call itNatural Selection,” he rumbled. “Flash here isn’t going to survive long.”
That broke the dam. The team’s laughter rolled through the trees, rough and warm. Emily bit the inside of her cheek, fighting her own grin, and caught the flicker in Brawler’s eyes. Not just irritation. Amusement.
Emily was most definitely caught off guard by the twist of amusement in his gravelly voice. Oh, God. He had a senseof humor. Dry, lethal, perfectly timed, and somehow that was worse than if he’d just stayed grumpy.
Her traitorous pulse kicked. There wasn’t a woman alive who didn’t want a man who could make her laugh. It was at the top of every list, and her list had been filled with men who were sedate, negative, and…boring. Safe. Predictable. Not this. Not a six-foot wall of muscle with a jawline that could cut glass and a wit sharp enough to make her want to hear more.
She looked away quickly, pretending to adjust her pack strap. No way was she letting him or his merry band of oversized action figures see the crack in her composure.
Zoologists studied big cats all the time, right? That didn’t mean she had to be weak-kneed about an entire pack of them. Still, when the line of camo-clad muscle swept forward without a sound, covering more ground in seconds than she could in minutes, she couldn’t help the thought that flickered through her head.
Maybe this was what it felt like to be prey watching the apex hunters close in, awed, unsettled, and just the tiniest bit dazzled.
Branches slapped back into place behind them as the team pushed through the undergrowth.
Easy adjusted his pack and muttered, “Speaking of dissertations, I can see wanting to drive a Jag, but chasing them? Um, dangerous.”
Emily lifted her chin, not missing the humor. Her voice came quick, her breath threaded through it. “It’s dangerous for them, not me. Jaguars are keystone predators. Take them out and the whole system unravels. Prey explodes, forests thin, rivers change. They’re not just spots in the jungle; they’re the balance point.”
Dagger snorted behind her. “Still dangerous. In my book, that makes you a brave little toaster.”
A ripple of chuckles moved down the line, cut short when Shark’s low voice carried from the flank. “How dangerous?”
