Her Forbidden Hero (21 page)

He shook his head, his eyes going hard. “It was my—”

She pressed her lips to his, cutting off his protest. “If the situation were reversed, if your injury stemmed from one of them getting intelligence that turned out to be wrong—would you blame that person? Would you want him to blame himself?”

Marco’s lips twisted and he stared at her. Finally, he heaved a sigh.

“You wouldn’t,” she said. “Because you’d understand. It wouldn’t have been his fault. And it wasn’t yours.”

He remained quiet for several moments, and then his expression softened. “I’m not there yet.”

“You don’t have to be. You’ll get there when you’re ready to get there. In the meantime, never think you have to hide yourself from me. Boxing up the bad parts doesn’t make them go away; it just makes them hurt worse.” She would know. “I’m your friend”—true as it was, the word stuck in her throat—“and I’ll always accept all of you.”

His eyes bored into hers as if evaluating her sincerity. “Don’t you think less of me?”

Alyssa sucked in a breath. She pushed up into a sitting position and leaned over him, forcing him onto his back. She rested a hand over his heart. “You risked your life for this country every day for four years. There’s no telling how many bad situations you helped thwart. Nothing will ever change how I feel about you, Marco. Nothing ever could.”

His gaze wandered, like he couldn’t meet her eyes. Finally, he scrubbed his hand over his face. “How’d you get so smart?”

She gave him a small smile and stroked the side of his face. “I’m a college graduate, don’t ya know?”

He managed a wry smile, then his face went serious. “Can we both sleep here tonight?”

“Yes,” Alyssa said, trying not to read significance into the request. But no matter why he’d asked, nothing would please her more than to fall asleep in his arms. Except maybe doing it every night from here on out.

They got cleaned up and ready for bed. Alyssa refused to touch any of her clothes, still scattered on the bathroom floor, so Marco gave her a pair of boxers she had to roll at the waist and one of his T-shirts. Alyssa was thrilled to be wearing his clothes, and her stomach tingled when she saw the way Marco looked at her in them.

Marco opened his arms to her as she climbed into bed, and Alyssa fit herself into the nook along the side of his body. So close to his warmth, her head on his shoulder and his scent all over her, Alyssa’s throat actually hurt from the restraint it took not to tell him how much she loved him. But though she sensed something had changed between them that night—something she would always cherish—the number of times he’d referred to her as a friend while they talked threw some major brakes on her runaway expectations.

Whether or not her heart would heed those warnings was another story, though, and the way it swelled in her chest told her she was deep, deep in trouble.

He played with her hair, dragging his fingers over her scalp and through the long strands again and again. Her mind and body found such peace that she fell back to sleep for a while.

Her eyes opened later to find an empty bed. Disappointment ripped through her gut until her brain registered the scents of coffee and bacon. She tugged on her borrowed shirt and boxers, torn between anticipation and fear of how he’d react to her in the light of day.

Marco stood at the stove with a spatula in his hand, his hair wet from the shower and his back a masculine work of art.

What she wanted was to walk up behind him and wrap her arms around his bare stomach. Instead, she leaned against the counter next to where he worked. “Good morning.”

He smiled at her and placed the last pancake onto a stacked-high plate. “Hey, Sleeping Beauty.”

“Can’t help it. You wore me out.” Heat infused her cheeks at the admission, but she didn’t regret the frankness of her words when he looked at her with such deep male satisfaction.

Marco turned off the stove and moved in front of her. Pressing his body in tightly, he grasped her face in his hands and lowered his mouth to hers. The kiss was slow and sweet and simmered with passionate heat. Alyssa’s heart skipped a beat, suddenly filled with the determination to tell him how she felt, to put it all out on the table and know once and for all if they had a chance at something more. At something that might last forever.

Alyssa wound her arms around Marco’s neck, holding him to her as she stroked her tongue against his. A thrill shot through her when he moaned, his erection hardening against her belly. An idea came to mind and suddenly Alyssa couldn’t resist.

She leaned away, loving the pout that formed on his lips, and opened the fly to his jeans. He arched an eyebrow that made her smile, and then she sank down to her knees, pulling his pants to his thighs as she moved.

Marco’s jaw dropped open. “Alyssa,” he murmured, need roughening his voice.

She grasped his rigid length in her hand and softly stroked. “My turn to take care of you.” Her heart beat wildly in her chest, but Alyssa could think of nothing she wanted more in that moment than to bring him pleasure. She sucked him in deep.

“Jesus,” he rasped, one hand falling to caress her hair.

Three raps sounded at the front door.

Marco groaned.

Alyssa grinned at Marco’s pained expression. “Just ignore it. They’ll go away.”

But whoever it was didn’t. They banged louder.

“Fuck,” Marco said. He pulled her to her feet and tucked himself back into his jeans. Burying his hand in her hair, he devoured her with a kiss.

Alyssa stumbled back a half step when he let her go, lust and amusement leaving her a little off-kilter. “Hurry back.”

He grumbled as he jogged to the door. Alyssa plucked a piece of bacon off a plate and took a bite. She turned and leaned against the counter, a smile still on her face.

“Hey!” a voice called in greeting. “Took you long enough. Thought I was going to have to pick the lock.”

Alyssa’s heart leaped into her throat. Brady?

“Uh, hey. Wow. Sorry. Come on in,” Marco said.

Unable to let herself believe what she was hearing, Alyssa stepped into the dining room.

Relief and joy flooded tears into her eyes. Brady was there. Her gaze scanned over him, making sure he was okay, noticing how he’d changed. H was tanned, his light brown hair had blond highlights from the sun, and he looked like he’d lost weight. It made him appear even taller. She couldn’t help but smile. Her brother was all right, and he was home.

Without another thought, Alyssa dashed across the house and threw her arms around him. “Brady,” she whispered, emotion stealing her voice. “It’s so good to see you.”

His arms wrapped around her and he chuffed out a laugh. “Hey, Al.”

“I missed you,” she said, giving him another squeeze, just to prove he was real.

“Me, too.” He stepped back and gave her a once-over. The smile disappeared, his eyes narrowed, and his shoulders went rigid.

Suddenly, she remembered what she’d been doing just before Brady arrived.
Oh, crap
. She was wearing Marco’s shirt. And Marco wasn’t wearing one at all.
Oh, no. Oh, crap
. No way her brother wasn’t going to jump to conclusions, and they would be the
right
conclusions.

This was not going to end well.

“So,” she said, smoothing down her shirt. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”

“I tried to, remember? I called.
Twice
.” He looked back and forth between them, then finally directed a cold glare at Marco.

Butterflies took flight in Alyssa’s stomach. “I could barely hear you.” She waved her hand. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter. You’re here. That’s all I care about.”

He frowned. “Maybe if you’d heard me, you’d be dressed right now.
In your own clothes
.”

Marco sighed. “Brady—”

Alyssa cut Marco off, trying to defuse her brother’s agitation. “Listen, you, we haven’t seen each other in a year and a half. Don’t be an ass.”

He scowled. “I’m serious, Alyssa. What the hell is going on?”

“Well,” she began, thinking
I’m in love with Marco
probably wasn’t the best conversation opener, especially since she hadn’t actually told Marco how she felt yet. She looked at him to see if he wanted to be the one to explain to Brady.

Her stomach plummeted.

Marco wore a strange, veiled expression and wouldn’t meet her gaze. “It’s not what you think,” he finally said.

Blood roared through Alyssa’s ears.
What is that supposed to mean?

Brady’s glare jumped from Marco to her tousled hair and her borrowed shirt. His eyes widened and he grabbed her arm. “What the hell is
this
?” he asked, the strain in his voice revealing his wavering effort to remain calm.

Alyssa followed his gaze to her bruised wrist and covered the marks with her other hand. Brady’s expression went darker than she’d ever seen it. She glanced down and internally groaned. Now both bruised wrists were showing.

She heard the
whack
of Brady’s fist hitting Marco’s face before she saw it.

“I trusted you, you sonuvabitch,” Brady yelled.

“Brady, no!” she cried, reaching out.

The impact wrenched Marco’s neck to the side, but he didn’t fight back. And he didn’t fight for her. His eyes were dead. “I cannot believe you’d think me capable of hurting her. Ever,” Marco said, his voice tight with emotion.

“Remember your last night in Okinawa? Last time I saw you, you were out of your fucking mind. What the hell am I supposed to think?”

Alyssa stepped between them and braced a hand against each of their chests. She took a deep breath, choked down the tidal wave of emotion threatening to swamp her, and looked them each in the eye. “Brady, stop. I’m serious. Marco didn’t hurt me. He rescued me.”

Brady eased off and rubbed roughly at his face. Marco fell back against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. Like boxers retiring to their corners.

Alyssa’s cheeks went hot and her heart hurt from pounding so hard in her chest. She glanced back and forth between the guys, both of whom looked as pissed off as she’d ever seen them.

Realization rolled through her in a sick, slow-moving wave. Brady was Marco’s friend first. He was Marco’s
best
friend in the world. More than that, he’d been Marco’s brother-in-arms, and, from what Marco had shared last night, Brady had saved his life.
Marco owes his life to Brady
. If he had to make a choice between them, Marco was going to choose Brady. Part of her understood and admired that. Even if it did break her heart. And why wouldn’t he? She was the one who initiated the sex last night. And afterward, how many times had he called her a friend?

It’s not what you think
.

Marco’s words echoed in Alyssa’s mind. It wasn’t love. Not for him.

She’d always known a relationship with Marco was a long shot, and it was clear that the emotions were all on her side, even if he had been sweet and tender last night. But after she’d been attacked, of
course
he’d be that way. Marco was a good guy and a protector to the core. And they
were
friends. For him, the sex clearly stemmed from all of that, not from love.

And if he didn’t love her, could Alyssa really drive a wedge into his friendship with Brady?

No.

Both of the guys meant way too much to let that happen.

Finding it suddenly hard to breathe, Alyssa turned on her heel and headed to the bathroom to change clothes. She slipped on her panties and jeans but couldn’t bring herself to change back into her shirt. Marco’s tee was miles big, so she tied it into a knot at the small of her back and pulled her hair into a ponytail.

She stared at herself in the mirror for a long moment, searching for and finally finding the resolve to do what she needed to do.

It’s not going to get any easier
.

She walked into the hall. The guys were still arguing and Alyssa did everything she could to tune it out. Her heart wouldn’t be able to survive Marco explaining away what they’d had. Whatever it had been.

In the kitchen, she found her phone and keys, suddenly remembering she had neither her car nor her purse. Shit. With a sigh, she typed out a quick text message:

Could you please pick me up on Skyline Drive ASAP? Kinda an emergency.

She hit send and slid her phone into her pocket.

Then she marched out into the fray. The argument cut off and she captured the guys’ gazes almost immediately. Their expressions and stances mirrored each other’s—eyes blazing with anger, expressions hard, shoulders tensed and braced.