Page 13 of Rett

“If you keep touching me, I’ll never get another good night’s rest for the rest of my life,” she laughed.

“Would that be so bad?”

“I-I don’t know. I mean, there’s a lot going on here and you’re in the military.”

“I am. I’m a Green Beret, Special Forces. I’m very proud of it. My father and grandfathers, both of them, were the same. One was a Green Beret, and one was an Army Ranger. My brothers are both Green Berets as well.”

“Rett? Can I ask why those men are chasing you?”

He pulled her from the chair, took her seat, then patted his big thigh. She raised a brow, then nodded, sitting on his lap as he covered her with the blanket once again. It was a very brazen move for her, but for some reason, it felt right.

“I was with my brothers in Venezuela on an op. We’d finished our recon and split up so it wouldn’t look like we were together. I had dinner in this restaurant, and a woman approached me. She acted like she didn’t speak English well, but she made herself very clear.”

“Oh,” she whispered.

“I’m a man, Casey. I hadn’t been with anyone in months, and when I was with someone, I always used condoms. I never promised more than one night because I knew that was all I had. This woman wanted money, and I don’t usually do that, but the people in the region are poor, and, well, I guess I’m trying to make excuses. I thought I was hiring a woman to have sex with me.”

“You’re a grown man, Rett. A grown single man, I’m assuming. And hoping. I can’t judge that.”

“You’re being very kind, and yes, I’m single. Anyway, I noticed a tattoo on her body and knew it meant she belonged to the drug lord, Ramos. I tried to leave. I got dizzy. I remember that,” he frowned. “Then I felt a stick in my neck, like a needle. I woke the next morning, and there was blood all over my hands and my clothes.”

“You were dressed?” she frowned.

“No. I mean, yes, when I woke, which I thought was odd as well. I was naked when it happened. But my clothes were on, and I was covered in blood. I looked for the woman and found her on the back porch, bent over the steps. Her neck was broken, and she was covered in blood.

“I knew it was a setup. I knew I couldn’t have done that. So, I ran. I heard the trucks coming, filled with men looking for me. It took me weeks to work my way north. I had no cell phone, no money, nothing on me. I was desperate when I reached New Orleans, but I was so close to home.”

“That’s when I found you,” she said, sliding an arm around his neck. He nodded, staring at her. “You didn’t do it, Rett. I know in my heart that you didn’t do it.”

Rett gripped the back of her head, pulling her close as his lips consumed her very breath. She was trying to balance her coffee in her hand, then felt his hand steady her own. They were both brought back to attention when they heard someone clear their throat.

“You might want to let that girl breathe. At the very least, eat breakfast before you eat her alive,” smirked Eazee. Rett chuckled, flipping off his brother. Casey turned, staring at the two men.

“Ho-lee shit,” she whispered. “How in the hell am I supposed to tell the three of you apart?”

“I won’t complain if you can’t,” grinned East.

“No. No, no, no,” said Casey. “I’m not one of those girls that shares very well. What am I supposed to do?”

“Relax, sunshine,” smiled East. He held up his left hand, one finger bent in a funny direction. She frowned, realizing how much that had to have hurt. “I had my hands where they shouldn’t be. Dislocated the finger, and it never healed right. Just look at my left hand, and think to yourself, his finger is pointing east. So, it must be Easton. East if you don’t mind.”

Casey just laughed, shaking her head.

“And what about you?” she asked Eazee. “If he’s East, for Easton, and I know that he’s Rett. Are you Ethan?”

“No,” he laughed, shaking his head. “My teammates call me Eazee because I’m easygoing.”

“How do I know it’s you?” He turned his head to the right, showing her the long scar down his neck. Frowning, she looked at him with compassion.

“Okay, those eyes would have gotten me, too, brother,” he said with affection. “It’s all good, Casey. I won the fight, I promise you.”

“Come on. Great-grandma is insisting that everyone has breakfast together today. When we’re done, we need to figure out where Ramos and his men are and why they were trying to frame you.”

CHAPTER EIGHT

Casey stared at the long row of tables holding the massive amounts of food. She wasn’t sure she’d ever seen anything so big in all her life. Having catered weddings, anniversaries, and so much more, she’d fed as many as two or three hundred people at a time. But feeding almost four hundred seemed insurmountable.

“I can’t believe this,” she whispered. “Do you have any idea how much effort must go into preparing all this food?”

---