Page 8 of Shades of You (Calypso Key #4)

Chapter Eight

Hunter

Brenna’s presence was just a breath away from my back as I typed in my security code at the back door. “I’ll write down the code for you. There’s no key.” I tried to impart some confidence in my voice.

She nodded, and I adjusted my sweaty grip on her suitcase. After climbing the stairs and swinging the door open, the spartan landscape of my living room was revealed. I couldn’t help but see it through her eyes—the stark walls unadorned with pictures, the practical furniture set that echoed my own utilitarian approach to life.

But there was one exception to the otherwise sterile environment. A mahogany bookcase Gabe had crafted for me was the focal point of one wall. It held a collection that mirrored my mindset—every title by Hemingway, a ton of modern adventure novels, Hawthorne, Shakespeare, Salinger.

“Very practical and no-nonsense,” Brenna stated, her voice pulling me back from my introspection. I caught the flicker of surprise in her green eyes as they snagged on the bookcase, and nerves clawed in my stomach. My space felt exposed, too much like the inner workings of my mind laid bare. I set down the suitcase and shoved my hands into my pockets, wondering what the hell we were going to do now.

Then her attention shifted, and her face softened as she spotted Pedro curled up on the couch. In an instant, she was across the room, lifting the fluffball with a smile that made my heart clench tighter. As she nuzzled him, her laughter was like music in the starkness of my home. “I can’t believe you have a kitten! What’s his name?”

“Uh, Pedro.”

“He’s so cute!” She held him up before her face and he squeaked at her. “How old is he?”

“Nine, ten weeks, I think. Or something like that.” I mumbled the words, and they tumbled out awkwardly. All of a sudden, my body felt too big for the room. Brenna had glided in like she belonged there, and obviously Pedro was a fan as she gathered him in her arms. I frowned at the cat. “Getting a kitten wasn’t my idea. Stella made me take him.” As Brenna glanced at me, her smile reached her eyes, and I knew my attempt to appear nonchalant had failed spectacularly.

“Looks like he’s found himself a good home,” she said, still cradling Pedro, who purred contentedly in her arms.

My chest tightened, a strange sensation spreading through me as I tried to deny feeling jealous of a damned kitten . I forced a shrug, trying to shake off the warmth Brenna radiated. “Well, the jury’s still out on that.”

Then she glanced more closely at his paws. “Oh, look at that! Six toes. Figures your sister would bring you a Hemingway cat.”

I shrugged yet again, unable to get my mouth to work properly. The floral-patterned dress she wore accented her tall, willowy frame. Her long hair hung loose, and I had to press my hand against my hip to fight off the urge to run my fingers through it.

Then her eyes became unfocused, staring through the window that showed the scrubby shoreline. “Pedro… don’t you guys give your cats literary names? From Hemingway stories? It’s been so long I can’t remember.”

“ The Sun Also Rises .”

She whipped her head back to me, her eyes widening. “That’s it!” Then, laughing, she held the tiny cat up, so his white paws hung in the air as he faced her. “Pleased to meet you, Pedro.”

Walking back to her suitcase, I quickly changed the subject, eager to regain some semblance of control over the situation. “I’ll show you to your room.”

“Oh. Right,” Brenna said, setting Pedro down. He immediately padded behind us as we walked toward the hallway.

Thank God she was behind me, so I didn’t have to stare at the way her ass moved under that dress. The way she laughed, full-body and unreserved, stirred something deep within me. For a moment, I imagined what it would be like to pull her into my arms and taste that laughter right from her lips. My hand clenched the suitcase, damn near cracking the handle. The need to touch her was nearly overwhelming.

We passed my room and the guest bath, arriving at the end of the hall. “Here’s your room,” I said abruptly and more gruffly than I intended before pushing open the guest bedroom door. Anything to distract myself from the dangerous thoughts swirling in my head.

Brenna stepped inside, taking in the sparse surroundings. The room was clean, almost sterile with its queen-sized bed, solid wood dresser, and bare walls.

“Well, it’s… minimalist.” A playful smirk tugged at the corner of her mouth.

“Decorating hasn’t been a priority lately,” I lied as I leaned against the doorframe. Decorating had never been a thing for me. I lived in a world devoid of color, where shades of black and gray were my constant companions.

“Could use a personal touch, though,” Brenna added, glancing around once more before turning to face me. Her eyes held mine, and for a second, something like understanding flickered across her features.

“I haven’t lived here long enough to get around to it,” I said, my voice flat. I didn’t mention how this place wasn’t really a home to me, just a space to exist in between the hours of work and restless sleep.

“Sure.”

“Anyway, make yourself at home. I’ll be out here if you need anything.” I retreated hastily, practically bolting back down the hallway as Pedro followed behind me.

The smooth chill from the quartz countertop seeped through my skin as I pressed my hands to it, taking slow, measured breaths. Pedro hopped onto the couch and washed his ears. “Get it together, man,” I muttered under my breath, raking a hand through my hair.

The possibility that I was overreacting to Knox’s threat lingered at the back of my mind. But a primal and fierce protective instinct drowned it out—I had to keep her safe. It didn’t matter what it cost me personally. The silence of the apartment was a stark contrast to the chaos unfolding inside my head—vivid images of a woman and two children flashing behind my eyes like some cruel slideshow. There were others, but those three were the ghosts that haunted me most often.

Well, them and Evan. He was always there too.

I’d failed all of them, and no matter what actions I’d taken toward redemption, nothing changed that. It tore at me, that old guilt. But I shoved it down, locking it away in a place I hoped Brenna would never see. She didn’t need a man like me, with a past so tarnished it could black out the sun. My heart raced at the mere idea of being more to her than just a guardian or a friend, and I knew that path led nowhere good. Not for her.

Inhaling a deep breath, I tried to quash the surge of desire that had blindsided me. If I could protect her, maybe I could atone for the past, even if she never knew about it. I exhaled slowly as Brenna’s gentle footsteps approached from down the hall.

“All unpacked. I didn’t bring a lot.” Her tone was soft, but her smile was quick to follow. I stared at her but couldn’t speak, caught in the storm inside my mind. The silence drew out until her gaze drifted to the kitten, who had made himself king of my couch. “Where does Pedro sleep?” she asked, settling him in her arms. He stretched out and purred, content in the cradle of her warmth. I could relate.

“Uh, he’s got a bed.” My words felt clumsy and ragged. My cheeks flushed with heat. “In my room. I bought it after he cried at the door the first night. Now I leave it open. He goes in and out.”

Brenna glanced at me, her eyes dancing with unspoken laughter. “But not on your bed, am I right?”

“Definitely not,” I replied, trying to sound stern. I had a feeling I was failing miserably.

“Pedro’s lucky—” But before another word could be exchanged, her stomach growled, loud enough for both of us to hear. “Oh. Sorry.”

“Nothing to apologize for,” I said quickly, welcoming the distraction. Glancing at my refrigerator, I ran through a mental inventory of what was inside. Or wasn’t. Dammit, Stella was the chef, not me. “But I don’t really have much here. Premade meals mostly. Will frozen pizza do?” I moved to the freezer and pulled out the box, feeling inexplicably tense as if the act of cooking for her, even just heating up a pizza, was somehow intimate.

“Perfect,” she said, her smile returning.

As the oven preheated, I found myself losing words again, unsure how to bridge the gap between us. I was acutely aware of her presence in my space. Even the air smelled different now. Lighter, better. It was unsettling how powerful the pull was, how much I wanted to reach out to her. But I couldn’t—wouldn’t—let myself go there.

I slid the pizza into the oven and set the timer with a click that echoed in the quiet tension of the kitchen. Brenna leaned against the counter, her arms folded. I could sense her gaze on me, heavy and curious, like she was trying to read the chapters of my life I kept firmly shut. I searched for a topic of conversation but came up empty. Again.

She took a deep breath, then let it rush out. “So what do you do for fun?”

Her question caught me off guard. The concept felt foreign, like a language I’d once been fluent in but had long since forgotten. Baseball was serious business, not fun—it was as much about reconnecting with my family as recreation. My mind was blank, just like my apartment’s walls. “Fun?”

She tilted her head, a strand of light brown hair falling over her face. God, I wanted to brush it back, feel how warm her skin would be. What her hair would smell like. Whirling to the fridge, I pulled out a bagged salad.

“Well, how about diving?” She took the bag and emptied it into the bowl I’d set out. “Have you gone since you moved back? We used to love diving in high school.”

“For me, diving was work. It stopped being fun a long time ago.”

A frown creased her brow and her eyes clouded with confusion. “But you were a Marine, not a SEAL, right?”

“Yes.” I nodded, pressing my lips together as memories of dark waters and covert operations flashed like snapshots in my mind. Bright, colorful ones, and others that were dark and forbidding. All had one thing in common—a brotherhood I’d found when I desperately needed it. “But my unit did dive ops, too.”

“Sounds intense,” she murmured, picking up on my reluctance to elaborate.

The word SEAL brought back the last time I’d had a conversation with one of the Navy’s elites, and I made an expression somewhere between a smirk and a scowl.

Brenna saw it. “What’s that expression about?”

“I was just remembering the last conversation I had with a SEAL It was at Gabe’s wedding and the guy kept me from punching Evan. I never got the chance to thank him.”

Her eyes filled with sympathy. “I heard some rumors about that. What happened?”

Gabe had personally asked me to attend, so I came, balancing on a razor’s edge. Both hoping and dreading seeing Evan again as adrenaline surged through me. To keep myself busy, I pulled two beers out of the fridge and opened them, then handed one to her. “I’d kept to the shadows during the ceremony behind the Big House and finally worked up the courage to make an official appearance at the reception. Evan saw me and went apeshit. He rushed me and pushed us both into the pool. When we got out, we started sniping at each other. I was this ball of emotion, and I didn’t know how to handle myself. I was this close”—I held my thumb and index finger a centimeter apart—“to punching his lights out when the SEAL got between us and ordered me to stand down. I was so out of it I didn’t even correct him for calling me soldier instead of Marine, something I normally do without thinking. It took a while for him to get through the red haze in front of my eyes, but obeying direct orders is too ingrained in me. And this guy was obviously an officer used to giving commands. I stepped back and he got me out of there. Things would have gotten really ugly between Evan and me if he hadn’t stepped in.”

“I’m so sorry for what you’ve been through. You and Evan were so close.”

I took a long pull of beer. “At least some good came from it. Evan realized that his hatred of me wasn’t helping, and I realized I needed to be part of my family. We’re trying to… reconnect.”

A sympathetic smile stretched her full lips. “I’m glad to hear that. I hope it works out between you two.”

“We’ll see. There’s a lot of shit to process. For both of us.” My mood started to darken as memories rushed through my mind. Rolling my head around on my neck, I tried to keep my shoulders from stiffening.

Brenna must have seen. She changed tack, reaching out to poke my bicep, and her touch sent an unexpected jolt through me. “What about this? Obviously, you work out a lot.”

I willed my fiery blood to cool, fighting off my reaction. It took me a second to remember we had been talking about what we enjoyed doing. “That is definitely not fun,” I said, a smile finally tugging at the corner of my mouth. She had a way of lightening the mood, even when the shadows loomed close. “Just part of the routine. I joined a gym in Dove Key and work out there.”

“Ah, the glamorous life of a security expert,” she teased gently.

“Something like that.” The timer dinged, and I pulled out the pizza, then served it onto two plates.

“Thanks,” she said. As I handed her the plate, our fingers brushed briefly.

“Of course,” I replied. “I’ll try to get to the market tomorrow and get some more… real food.”

We settled at the kitchen table, an island in the stormy sea that had become my thoughts. As she took a bite, her eyes closed in appreciation. Something twisted deep inside me.

This was a terrible idea.

Protecting her should’ve been straightforward—keep her safe, end of story. But with every familiar smile and gentle tease, the line between duty and desire blurred. If one of my guys were this entangled, I’d have reassigned him faster than you could say conflict of interest . And yet here I was, unable to take my own advice. And I sure as hell wasn’t about to say anything to Miles or Garrett about what Brenna meant to me. The pull toward her was gravitational, undeniable. How the hell was I supposed to keep my hands to myself when every cell in my body screamed to close the distance between us?

Pedro hopped off the couch and sauntered over to the table. He sat and curled his tail around his legs, staring between us. I grabbed at the subject change. “Never thought I’d be a pet person. ”

“Life’s funny like that,” she said softly. “You think you know exactly what you want, who you are… Then someone or something comes along, and suddenly you’re not so sure.”

Her words were too close to the bone, echoing the chaos churning inside me. “True. But some things are nonnegotiable.” Like keeping her safe. Like resisting the urge to cross lines that shouldn’t even be in view.

“Like what?” Brenna prodded gently, her gaze searching mine.

“Like… professionalism,” I managed, seizing on the word like a lifeline.

“Of course,” she replied, and a shadow flitted over her face, like she was disappointed at my answer.

I dropped my eyes to my plate again. I’d always had a thing for her. It had kept me going during dark times, been a lifeline of happy memories in a churning, dark ocean. And now, at last, she was more than a memory. And I couldn’t act on my desires. We ate in silence for a few moments, the weight of my unspoken words pressing down on me like the humid air outside. I was supposed to protect her, but who would protect her from me? From the intensity of what I felt?