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Fueled (Driven #2) Page 19
Author: K. Bromberg

I grab the pile I’ve been avoiding, budgetary crap that takes too much time and in the end just gets overruled by the bosses upstairs, but I need to get through it. I sigh in fortification when I hear a tap at my door. I swear the next few moments take place in slow motion but I know they didn’t.

When I look up, I cry out loudly and jump up in shock as I meet eyes that mirror mine. I round my desk and run full force into the arms of my brother. Tanner wraps them around me, spins around once, squeezing me so tight I can’t breathe. All of the fear over his safety, anguish over not hearing from him, and loneliness from not having him near, vanish and manifest themselves in the tears that run down my cheeks in happiness.

He sets me back down on my feet and eases his hold on me, but I cling to him tightly and bury my face in his chest needing this connection with him. When I can’t stop crying, he just holds on and kisses the top of my head. “If I knew I was going to get this kind of welcome, I’d come home more often,” he says before grabbing my shoulders and pulling me back, his eyes searching mine. “What is it, Bubs?”

I smile at hearing the name he’s called me our whole lives. I think I’m in shock. “Let me look at you,” I manage, stepping back and running my hands over his arms. He looks a little older and a lot tired. Fine lines fan at the corners of his weary eyes, and the creases edging his mouth have deepened some in the six months since I have seen him last. His copper hair is a little longer than usual, curling up at the collar. But he is alive and whole and in front of me. The wrinkles make him more attractive somehow, adding a little ruggedness to his dynamic features. “Still ugly I see?”

“And you’re even more beautiful,” he recites, an exchange we’ve said at least a thousand times over the years. He holds out my arms to look at me and shakes his head as if he can’t believe I am standing in front of him. “God is it good to see you!”

I grab a hold of him again and laughter bubbles up. “Do Mom and Dad know you’re in the states?” I pull on his hand, bringing him into my office, not wanting to let go of him just yet.

“I flew in to San Diego and stayed with them last night. I’m leaving for Afghanistan this afternoon on a sudden assignment—”

“What?” I just get him back and now he’s going to leave me again. “What do you mean you’re leaving again?”

“Can you leave? Go to lunch with me and we can talk?”

“Of course.”

Tanner’s only request for his meal is that it be somewhere he can see and smell the ocean. I drive up the coast, deciding to take him to the beachside restaurant Colton took me to on what I consider our first date. It’s perfect for him.

On the drive Tanner explains to me that he had taken a last minute week off to come home and visit us from his post in Egypt covering the unrest there. Once home, a fellow colleague had fallen ill and so now his trip was cut short so that he could head back to the Middle East to cover for him.

“So you flew all the way out here for two days just to see us?” I take a sip of my Diet Coke and stare at him. We’re seated on the same patio where Colton and I ate just a couple of tables to the right. Rachel wasn’t working but the hostess that is, heeded our request and set us out of the way from the steady flow of the lunch crowd.

Tanner just looks at me and smiles broadly, and I realize how much I’ve missed him and the calming effect he can have on me. He tilts his bottle of beer up to his lips and leans back, looking out at the waves beyond. “God, it’s good to be home.” He smiles. “Even if it’s just for a day.”

“I can’t even imagine,” I tell him, afraid to take my eyes off of him for just a second since my time with him is so fleeting.

Over food, we talk about the things going on in our lives. He tells me all about his living conditions and the things going on in Egypt that aren’t making their way into the mainstream media. I learn he is casually dating another journalist but that it’s nothing serious despite the softening of his features when he speaks of her.

I love listening to him. His passion and love for his job is so apparent that even though it takes him thousands of miles from me, I can’t imagine him doing anything else.

I tell him about work and Haddie and everything in between. Except for Colton. Tanner can be a bit overprotective, and I figure why even mention something that I’m not sure even is a something. I think I’m doing a damn good job of it until he tilts his head and stares at me.

“What?”

His eyes narrow as he studies me. “Who is he, Bubs?”

I look at him perplexed, like I don’t understand, but I know his investigative instincts have kicked in, and he won’t back down until he gets the answer he wants. Hence why he’s so good at his job. “Who’s who?”

“Who’s the guy that’s got you tied up in knots?” He takes a draw on his beer. A smirk on his lips, his eyes never leave mine. Cocky son of a bitch. I just sit there and stare at him wondering how he knows. “Spill it!”

“Why would you even think that?”

“Because I know you that well.” When I just fold my arms over my chest, he laughs at me. “Let’s see, you are purposefully avoiding the topic rather than talking about it. You’re twisting that ring around your damn finger like a worry stone. You keep biting the inside lip of yours like you do when you’re trying to figure something out, and you keep looking at that table over there like you expect someone to be sitting there. Either that or you’re remembering something that you and he did there.” He arches an eyebrow at me. “Besides, you have a fire in your eyes that’s been missing since…before,” he muses, reaching out, grabbing my hand and squeezing it. “It’s good to see.” I smile at him, so happy that he’s here. “So?”

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K. Bromberg's Novels
» Sweet Ache (Driven #7)
» Aced (Driven #5)
» Raced (Driven #4)
» Crashed (Driven #3)
» Fueled (Driven #2)
» Driven (Driven #1)
» Hard Beat (Driven #8)