The Returning Hero. Сорейя Лейн
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tonight from the moment she’d traced her fingers down his inner arm, along the words of his tattoo, and he’d known he was incapable of doing the right thing when she’d kissed his cheek in the bar. The heat of her breath against his skin, her warm lips, the look in her eyes...like she wanted him, trusted him and needed him, all rolled into one stare. Into one gentle touch that he found one hundred percent irresistible.
Brett groaned, but there was no getting away from her, not now that she was clutching his shirt between her fingers and her head was tucked against his chest like it was her own personal pillow to snuggle up into.
The light in the kitchen was still on, but unless he could teach the dog how to turn it off, he was just going to have to shut his eyes and do his best to ignore it.
He caught sight of Bear watching him, head between his paws, eyebrows raised.
“Don’t look at me like that,” Brett told him, scowling.
He didn’t need a damn dog to make him feel even more guilty than he already felt.
“And don’t you be forgetting that I saved your life,” he muttered, before shutting his eyes.
The truth was that Bear had saved all of them that day. He’d stopped after Sam had sent him out, body dead-still, tail quivering, head cocked to the side. It had been Bear who’d alerted them to the bomb—only trouble was that it wasn’t a standard improvised explosive device. This IED had been remote-detonated, most likely from a local hiding where they hadn’t been able to find him. Someone watching, in wait, to explode an entire 4x4 full of SAS soldiers, wanting to blow them all into pieces.
Sam and Brett’s dog had been the casualties that day, so maybe he should be showing Bear some respect and thanking him for saving his life.
He shut his eyes, knowing sleep wouldn’t come easily, because it never did these days. If he managed to fall asleep, he’d wake up in a sweat and twisted in his sheets, mind full of the darkness of that day he was trying so hard to forget. And then he’d lie awake, scared of shutting his eyes again because of the memories that flashed like scenes from a movie beneath his eyelids.
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