Page 1 of Cajuns. Love. Curves.

chapterone

Remy

I like to pretend that when I’m on leave, I’m a different person.

On leave, I can sleep late. Eat crap food that’s bad for me. Watch stupid shit on YouTube. Ignore my phone if I want.

Of course, none of that is strictly true. Even when I’m on leave I’m still a SEAL. That’s just not the kind of thing you turn on and off. At thirty, if I eat too much shit while on leave, I pay for it when I get back. Of course, the biggest of the self-delusions is the bit about ignoring my phone.

The truth is, I have to be reachable twenty-four hours a day, three-hundred and sixty-five days a year. Especially me, because I’m the intelligence guy on my team. So they call and text and email me all hours of the day and night with random requests.

But, man, do I like to pretend I don’t have to bealwaysavailable.

Which is why, when I’m sitting in my parents’ kitchen a couple of days into my leave and my phone rings, I almost let it go to voicemail before flipping it over and checking who it is.

Thank God it’s not my commanding officer. Still, the name flashing on the caller ID surprises the hell out of me. I slide to answer.

“Wade, hey man. Everything okay?”

My older brother grunts his response on the other line.

Five years older than me, Wade has always been the quiet, brooding type. It’s only gotten worse since his accident.

“I need a favor,” he says.

“Sure. Anything you need,” I say quickly.

Probably too quickly. I’ve always looked up to Wade. I’ve always wanted to be Wade. That’s probably true of every guy who has a brother five years older and inestimably cooler. When we were kids, our parents used to call me his shadow.

I don’t think either of us quite knows how to handle my obvious hero-worship now that Wade isn’t a SEAL, but I still am. Just one of the many ways Wade’s accident has rippled through our entire family. I guess we should be thankful we weren’t on the same SEAL team. Especially since several of his buddies didn’t make it back.

Of course, it’s not about me. And the fact that I make it about me, if only for a minute and only in my own head, is just a reminder that I can be a selfish shitbag sometimes. Which is one of the many reasons I’ll never be able to fill his shoes. Not even now that he’s not a SEAL and that … well, fuck. I’ve made it about me again.

I clear my throat. “Whatever you need, I can do it.”

“It’s not really for me.” Wade, who’s never been one for chatter, gets straight to the point. “I got a call last night from General Fieldmore. He asked for a favor.”

I let out a low whistle. General Fieldmore is the real deal.

“Yeah. Exactly,” Wade says. “He knew I was on medical leave, but he didn’t know …”

Wade pauses there, the unfinished part of that sentence hanging heavy between us. Obviously, the general didn’t know the extent of Wade’s injuries or that he was still in rehab. The learning how to walk all over again with a leg made of metal and plastic kind of rehab. The kind of rehab that means Wade won’t be able to do this favor.

I jump in to fill the silence. “Whatever he needs, I’ll do it.”

“One of his golfing buddies is an Army colonel from Dallas. The guy has a daughter who lives in Saddle Creek. His youngest daughter ran away from home to visit her older sister. The general knew I was from Saddle Creek and asked me to find the girl and bring her to Houston by this Saturday. There’s some kind of political fundraising gala that her parents have to attend, but they want her with them.”

Yeah, I’ll do anything for Wade, but … “If some kid ran away from home, isn’t that a matter for the police?”

“She’s not a kid. She’s twenty-two.”

I frown and scrub at the back of my neck. “Okay then, if she’s an adult, it’s not really running away.”

“Yeah.” Wade makes a noise of grumbled annoyance. “Apparently, she’s a real piece of work. She can’t hold down a job and has delusions of being some kind of Instagram influencer. The whole rich girl starter pack.”

“Okay, so she’s a brat. But none of this sounds like something that justifies a Navy SEAL tracking her down.”

“Apparently, they’re afraid she’s dabbling in drugs. They just want to get her home safely so they can get her some help. But you can see why this guy needed to call in a bunch of favors to get someone to track down his daughter and bring her home.”

---