Breaking Brandon

Chapter Eight

Regina

Staring into the darkness outside her office window, Regina smiled, thinking about how nice it had been to see her family this past weekend. Saturday she’d gone into the gym then did some grocery shopping before going home and fixing herself some pasta. Eating alone in her quiet condo, she felt herself sinking into that lonely place again. She needed to get used her life as it was now. Here or in New York, this is how it would be forever. He was gone, and until she began to move on—find herself again, be the person she was once—she’d continue sinking. She needed to go back to being that girl who didn’t need someone else to make her happy.

Sunday had been nice. Maybe she didn’t need a man to make her happy, but her family, she definitely needed. Being close to them again felt right. She was glad when her mother told her that now that all her children were living close by she’d be having early Sunday dinner for the entire family at her place every week. That was even more to look forward to because seeing her siblings and their families had been wonderful.

Albeit her parents weren’t that close, the just-over-an-hour drive each way to their home had also served a purpose. It’d given her time to think. Her job wasn’t that bad, really. She just had to give herself time to adjust, and she’d already decided she wouldn’t give the sergeant another thought. The only energy she’d put into anything where he was concerned was to avoid him completely. She had enough things to deal with and an entire new lifestyle to adjust to. She didn’t need to be thinking about a man who, from what she’d seen Friday, was likely married or in a relationship anyway. Being around her family reminded her why she’d made this move in the first place. Knowing she was close enough that she could be with them often now made it all worth it. She wouldn’t let a less glamorous job than her job in New York or some jerk working in the same building make her forget that.

For the past few days, she’d effectively managed to be upbeat about her job and hadn’t once run into him. That is until yesterday, but fortunately it’d been brief, and both times he’d been just as cold and indifferent as ever. Screw him. She was done trying to figure out what his problem was. She’d seen the way he glared at the other sergeant she’d been speaking to. Unlike Sergeant Billings, Sergeant Rodriguez had been friendly and engaging. Yet Sergeant Billings had seen fit to look at him in that same rigid way she thought he’d reserved just for her. The simple answer could very well be he was just an asshole.

Done thinking about it, she brought her mind back to the more pleasant things about that week. Regina had finally come up with what her boss had been counting on when she pitched her the idea of taking this job—a way to get this lagging project moving along.

Standing from her chair, she smiled, feeling very pleased with herself. Today had gone better than she’d imagined. The impromptu meeting she had with the staff to run her idea by them had gone well also. Taking a deep breath, she grabbed her things and headed out.

All week she’d been taking the stairs instead of the elevator, except for yesterday when she’d seen him rush up the stairs. It’d been the only time she’d seen him do that. Usually, he took the elevator, so she’d stick to the stairs under normal circumstances. Taking the stairs added steps to her step count for the day, and she didn’t have to worry about any uncomfortable elevator rides. Win—win. Tonight, however, because she got caught up putting her new idea into effect and had to make a few calls to some key people who could get it moving along, she’d been here much later than usual.

Since the building was just about empty, she figured her chances of getting caught up in the elevator with him were slim to none, so she made her way to the elevator. Unbelievably, halfway there, she heard slow ominous footsteps coming from behind her—the direction of his office—but she dare not look. It could be someone else. What were the odds that of all the other people on this floor it would be him?

Charlie Brown.

Panicking as the footsteps got closer, she thought of the stairs just around the elevator. She could keep walking and take them instead. She still had a chance. As she reached the elevator, she hesitated for a moment but then kept going. She’d rather walk down than risk ruining her otherwise pleasant day by engaging in another irritating encounter with that man. She stopped just on top of the stairs but out of view now of whoever had been behind her. Deciding she should wait and not go down just yet to avoid running into him downstairs, she did. But the footsteps hadn’t stopped. What if like yesterday, he’d decided to take the stairs as well and came around the corner only to find her standing there like an idiot?

Going back and forth because the footsteps were still coming, she shook her fist, frustrated by her inability to make such a simple decision. Head down or not? Geez!

Maybe he just hadn’t reached the elevator yet. Even if he did take the elevator, she still had a chance to make a mad dash down the stairs and beat him because he still had to wait for the elevator.

Regina took off in a hurry but immediately realized she’d be much faster if she took her shoes off. A few steps down, she took one shoe off then went for the other and lost her footing. Her heart jumped to her throat when she tried to recover and couldn’t. Before she knew what was happening, she heard herself yelp from the pain of her ankle bending under her. Everything after that happened so fast there was nothing she could do to stop it. Her arms flayed out wildly, unable to grasp onto anything as her entire body went down. The things in her purse flew everywhere as it fell out in front of her, and she hit every step, unable to slow the fall until she finally hit the wall where the stairwell turned with a loud and painful thud.

Dazed for a few seconds, it took her a moment to grasp what had just happened. She shook her head and immediately regretted it because it made her head throb. She was so dazed she didn’t even realize the loud clanking was someone running down the stairs toward her.

Looking up, she was face to face with Sergeant Billings, who immediately crouched down, the usual hardened expression now very concerned.

“Don’t move,” he said as she tried to sit up. “Lie down instead,” he instructed her, and she did as he told her. “You might have a neck or spinal injury. You’ll make it worse if you move.”

Very slowly and gently, Regina moved her neck from side to side to assess whether her neck was really injured or not. She tried in vain to ignore the screaming voice in her head.

Of course, instead of avoiding him, you rolled down the stairs, bringing the most mortifying kind of attention to yourself. You didn’t just trip or fall—you rolled!

“My neck feels fine,” she said, wanting nothing more than to gather her things and get as far away from there as possible.

Over the initial shock and ignoring the pain now, Regina felt so incredibly embarrassed she couldn’t even look at him as she tried sitting again.

“Look in my eyes,” he said, and unwillingly she did. Was it possible they’d gotten even bluer?

As he held her from moving by her arm, she stopped. For the first time since he’d arrived, she got an up close less dazed look at him. Unlike all the other times when she’d seen him in his utility uniform, he now wore a service uniform with lots of medals, which only gave him an even more commanding appearance. Whatever cologne he wore smelled so good she had to fight the urge to close her eyes and just inhale deeply. She gazed into those very serious blue eyes.

“Can you tell me what your name is?” he asked.

Instantly, she was yanked out of the wistful state she hadn’t even noticed she’d gone into. Her insides warmed with mortification or anger; she couldn’t decide. But she was consumed by both emotions. Was he really going to act as if he didn’t remember her?

She jerked her arm away from him. “You know who I am!”

Surprised by the tiny gleam in his eyes, she was caught in them once again, but she still glared.

“Yes,” he nodded, and to her utter shock, he smiled softly. “I know who you are, Ms. Brady. I was just trying to assess how hard you hit your head.”

“Oh,” she said, and as if she couldn’t feel anymore embarrassed than she already did, she now felt like a complete jackass. “Yes, I know my name. It’s Regina.” Even through her embarrassment, she was surprised by what a smile from him did to her. “I really don’t think I broke anything,” she explained as she once again tried to sit up, and he allowed it this time. “Nothing hurts that bad.”

He stood up and offered both hands to her. “Stand up really slowly. You might be dizzy.”

She reached up and took both his hands. The second she put weight on her right foot, the pain shot through her ankle, and she nearly went down again, but he caught her.

“Careful,” he said as she fell into his hard chest.

The feel of his arms around her and that amazing scent of him as she leaned into him might’ve been more enjoyable if the sharp pain in her ankle hadn’t spoiled the moment. She groaned instead. Suddenly the realization that she’d have to walk up or down a set of stairs in that excruciating pain came to her.

“Don’t stand on it,” he warned, pulling her arm around his neck and looking down. “It might be broken.”

Holding on to him, she wobbled on her good foot. “I can hold on to the rail and hop down on one foot.”

More surprising than seeing him smile earlier, she jerked her head up when she heard him chuckle softly. “That’s not happening.”

He already had one hand around her. He leaned down, and she felt his arm under her knees. In the next instant, she was cradled in his arms.

“Put your arms around my neck,” he instructed her.

Before she could even begin to argue, he started down the stairs, and she wrapped her arms around him, holding on tightly.

~*~

Brandon

So her hair smelled better than he remembered, and she felt even better than he hated to admit he’d been imagining she would in his arms. She was injured, and even if the thought of holding her had crossed his mind before, that was the only reason he was doing this now. Just thinking about these things was reckless. He was beginning to think he saw something in the way she looked at him too—something curious—something he had no business even noticing and definitely no intention of looking into any further.

Brandon set her down on the sofa in the lobby at the entrance of the building. “I’ll go get your things,” he said as soon as she un-wrapped her arms from around his neck.

Gulping hard, he walked away before he could get caught up in the eyes he needed to stop thinking about, even when they weren’t in front of him.

As he reached the stairs where she’d fallen, he picked up her purse and began putting the spilled contents into it. After picking up several makeup items, he noticed her open wallet at the bottom of the staircase. He didn’t mean to be nosey, but it was open to a photo of her and two other women standing around an older guy. The other women looked about her age. Going by the resemblances they all shared, he presumed these were her sisters, and the way they all touched the man’s shoulders so endearingly, he assumed this was Daddy. If it was, this blew his theory about her dad possibly being Irish—a Brady. The man in the photo looked every bit as Hispanic as she did.

Why was he even going there?

Holding the photo still in front of him, he couldn’t stop looking at it. He focused on something else now. They all looked so happy. He stared at that smile and her sparkling eyes. It was almost maddening. All these years, he’d managed to remain immune to and kept that part of him—the part that might actually feel emotions—completely sedated. He couldn’t allow a sweet smile and a pair of dark captivating eyes to wake that part of him. He’d so effortlessly managed to snuff it to its death, or so he thought, for so long he didn’t think he’d ever have to worry about it.

Clenching his jaw, he lifted the photo only to see another one of Ms. Brady behind it. Once again, Brandon felt drawn to her eyes. In the second photo, she was alone, her face very fresh as if she’d just gotten out of the shower. Even with no makeup, she was stunning. It was such a simple photo of her, sitting cross-legged in the middle of a bed, wearing an oversized white T-shirt, but unlike the other smiling photo, in this one she wasn’t smiling at all. She was staring at the camera with her head tilted, looking almost angry.

Brandon smiled, remembering the fuming yet adorable glare he’d been indulged with when he’d asked her for her name earlier. He still didn’t understand why seeing that glint of fire in her eyes, especially when directed at him, amused him so. Even this less-enchanting portrait did just that: enchant him in a way that scared him. He shouldn’t be feeling anything for her. He didn’t know her, and he didn’t want to get to know her—he shouldn’t.

A buzzing sound pulled him out of his thoughts, and he turned around to search for the source of the noise. The screen on a cell phone at the bottom of the staircase lit up. He walked over to pick it up and read the screen: Incoming call—Antonio.

Remembering her sweet conversation in the elevator with someone named Antonio, who she apparently worked with in this same building, another alarm went off. He’d chalked up the irritation he’d felt that day when he listened to her on the phone to his irritation with her in general. The fact that Antonio had done something for her that warranted a very grateful thank you from her was only further proof of the kind of princess she was. It reminded him of how irritated he’d been just the other day when he’d seen her talking and laughing with one of her co-workers. She’d only been working at this place for a little over a week, and already she’d had these guys seemingly smitten.

Ignoring what seeing Antonio’s name on her phone screen did to him, he tossed the phone into her purse and gathered the rest of her stuff. It took him a few minutes to find her second shoe, because it was way up on the upper steps, not at the bottom like everything else. He walked up and shoved it in her purse, glad it was big enough to hold both shoes, and started back down.

She was holding her leg out in front of her with a grimace, trying to move the ankle as he approached her.

“Don’t do that.”

Even her startled expression was enough to make him want to smile—something that up until lately he didn’t do often. Being a drill instructor for so many years, he’d just fallen into the habit of hiding any kind of amusing emotions. Good and bad, Ms. Brady was bringing them all out of him. He remembered how impossible it’d been to hide the annoyance he’d felt that he hadn’t been able to keep his eyes off her Friday night at the restaurant. Her continued staring at him the way she had with such interest and more, had him questioning if maybe getting to know her better might not be such a bad idea. That could not happen. He’d been so desperate to end what he was feeling—what she might be feeling—he did something he so rarely did and engaged in a public display of affection by kissing the girl he’d met only an hour earlier.

“It might be broken,” she said almost through her teeth. “It’s really hurting bad now.”

Brandon put her purse down next to her. “I think I got it all.” He knelt down in front of her then lifted her injured ankle gently. She immediately gasped at his touch. “Sorry.”

“No, you didn’t hurt me.” She laughed softly. “I was just bracing myself.”

Like earlier, he lost the battle and smiled. Looking up at her pained but laughing mood despite her injury, he just couldn’t help himself. As soon as he smiled, he saw the same thing in her eyes he’d seen earlier—an almost bewildered gaze—and there was something so sweet about it he had to look away.

He focused on her ankle instead. Trying to ignore her dainty, painted-pink toes, his eyes traveled to the upper right hand side of the top of her foot and the small heart tattoo. A picture of an open book with the words Uni & Boot was inside of the heart. Draped around the heart so it looked almost like a vine hanging off the heart were the words: Together forever.

Brandon had no idea what Uni and Boot stood for, but obviously it had to be meaningful to her or she wouldn’t have something so permanent on her body. Regardless of the meaning, it was none of his business, and while the curiosity to know was already beginning to fester, he refused to get personal with her about anything.

Touching the swollen area around her ankle very carefully, he saw that no bones seemed to be protruding like some of the uglier ankle injuries he’d witnessed out in the field. “It might just be sprained. Did you hear anything crack when you twisted it?” He looked up at her. That bewilderment was still in her eyes, and he swallowed hard trying his damnedest not to react inappropriately to it.

She shook her head. “I don’t think so, but it happened so fast.”

He brought his eyes back to her foot. He had to. Looking into those big innocent eyes was breaking his will to fight the urge to speak more freely to her. Lowering her foot gently, he stood up.

“There’s no way you’ll be driving tonight. And you really need to get this X-rayed to know for sure. Stay here.” He started towards the door, but he saw the look of apprehension on her face, so he turned back to her and for some reason was compelled to smile. “I’ll be right back.”

He knew that bewildered expression would make an appearance, and as pissed at he was at himself for weakening so fast and giving in just to see it, it had been totally worth it.

Shaking off the alarming thoughts, he hurried toward the golf cart still parked on the side of the building. Technically, he had to check it out if he ever needed to use one, but he hadn’t checked it back in today after using it all day. Since he’d gotten back so late today, he planned on doing so in the morning.

In less than a couple of minutes, he had it parked at the building’s front door. He jumped out and hurried through it, already looking forward to having her in his arms again.

This was not good.

He found her squeezing her eyes shut, her face scrunched in agony.

“It’s hurts that bad?”

She nodded but said nothing as he knelt down to look at her ankle again. The swelling was getting worse. He grabbed her bag with one hand.

“Okay, let me help you stand on your good foot,” he said, holding her elbow. She rose from her seat slowly, wobbling as she leaned into him. “I got you,” he assured her as he brought his arm around her small waist, holding her firmly.

Once she was all the way up, he bent down to bring his arm under her knees again as he had earlier. “Put your arms around my neck.”

She did, and just like earlier, he inhaled her blissful scent. He knew with her foot dangling it had to make the pain worse, and she buried her face in his neck, gasping. He held her tighter in hopes of keeping her foot from moving too much. Walking backwards, he pushed the glass door open with his back, careful not to hit her foot against it as he swung her around and walked through it.

He’d never actually been in combat, but in his day, he’d been through plenty of drills where he had to carry a fellow soldier in full combat gear for long grueling sessions. Ms. Brady felt so tiny and delicate he could hold her like this forever, as small as she was in comparison. The scent of her hair alone and the feel of her soft but firm body pressed against his was incentive enough to hold her as long as he could. It was actually a disappointment to have to set her down in the golf cart, but he did so gently and slowly.

“Are you okay?” he asked as he watched her slowly and apparently very painfully lower her foot to the floor of the cart.

Again she nodded without saying a word as if words alone might make it hurt more. “We’ll get you some pain killers in a little bit. The base hospital isn’t too far.”

Setting her purse down in the back of the cart, he rushed around to the driver’s side and jumped in. Brandon was almost glad she didn’t seem to be in a mood to talk. He already felt too close to giving into what he’d previously said was out of the question, getting to know her a little more by asking generic questions that could be construed as perfectly innocent inquiries in a situation like this. Asking her if she had anyone that could come pick her up for example would be entirely acceptable. Knowing there were other reasons he wanted to know and that there shouldn’t be, he refrained from asking.

“I’m sorry for taking up so much of your time, Sergeant Billings,” she said softly. “Once you get me to the hospital, I can call someone so you can leave.”

Someone? Like Antonio? “I had no further plans for the rest of this evening, Ms. Brady,” he said, looking straight ahead. “I can take you home. You won’t be able to drive tonight. That’s for sure, maybe not even for a few days.”

She groaned, shaking her head and squeezing her eyes closed again.

“Is the pain getting worse?” he asked, looking down at her swollen ankle.

“No.” She sighed. “It’s not that. I mean, yeah, it still hurts, but not any worse. It just hadn’t even dawned on me that I might not be able to drive for days. I had a major breakthrough today at work and planned on being very busy the next few days.”

Brandon glanced over just in time to catch her frowning face. It was so sweet he had to look away. He might’ve smiled again if what that adorable expression did to him didn’t scare the hell out. “Well, maybe they’ll tell you otherwise,” he offered as solace, staring straight ahead. “If it’s not broken and you ice it enough tonight, you might be able to put a little pressure on it by tomorrow.”

She sighed heavily, and he dared not look her way for fear she might be making another expression that might have him sighing too. This was getting ridiculous. Already, he was having unacceptable thoughts and visions of things that were completely inappropriate.

They reached the emergency room, and he drove right up to the entrance. “Stay here,” he said as he rushed in.

He was able to quickly acquire a wheelchair and brought it out then helped her out of the cart. Trying not to put too much thought on how tightly she wrapped her arms around his neck, he abstained from holding her just as tightly. He did, however, allow himself to indulge in her scent again. As he lowered her onto the seat, he glanced up just as she loosened her hold on him and froze when he realized he was close enough to taste those lips. She stared at him for a moment as he stood there bent over, unbelievably tempted at that most inopportune moment to kiss her.

“You okay?” he asked, still not moving away.

She nodded, continuing to hold his gaze.

He swallowed hard because this was so unlike him and because he knew once this night was over he’d be regretting this. Finally he moved away. Handing her the purse from the back seat of the golf cart, he came around the back of the chair and began pushing her inside the emergency room. As much as he knew he should take her up on her offer to call someone else, he wasn’t ready to leave her side just yet. Damn, he was going to regret this tomorrow.

Already, he regretted having met with his original drill instructor last weekend. Brandon hated to admit it, but unlike anyone, Sergeant Taft held a special place in his heart. Taft had been the one who straightened Brandon’s ass out in the first place. As far as Brandon was concerned, Taft was the reason why he hadn’t dropped out those first few punishing weeks of boot camp when he’d considered doing so on more than one occasion. He was also Brandon’s inspiration and why he’d become a drill instructor in the first place. For those reasons, he kept the man at bay. It’d be too easy to start to feel an emotional attachment to this friend. Brandon didn’t make emotional attachments. He made no exceptions. But when Taft heard Brandon would be in California, he invited him to his home for dinner with his wife.

Feeling too duty-bound to a man he held in such high esteem, he’d accepted, but the thought of getting too close scared the hell out of him. The now semi-retired Sergeant and his wife had been so pleasant and welcoming. They even insisted now that Brandon was based in California he visit more often and said they’d be visiting him too. Brandon had regretted the visit the moment he’d walked out of their home. Just like then, he knew he’d be regretting this entire night by tomorrow morning, possibly even sooner. So why the hell wasn’t he walking away yet?

The emergency room was busy, but they still got in fast.

“Just wheel her over behind that second curtain on your right.” The nurse pointed as Brandon started wheeling her in that direction. “There’ll be someone in there to take all her information in a few minutes. You can help your wife onto the bed. The doctor will be with her shortly after they’ve taken her vitals.”

She walked away before either of them could explain the misunderstanding. Brandon and Ms. Brady exchanged glances as her cheeks shaded with slight color.

Without a word, Brandon continued to wheel her over to the bed the nurse had pointed to. When they reached it, Ms. Brady attempted to stand on her own, holding the end of the bed and the arm of the chair. “Let me help you,” he quickly offered, pulling her arm around his neck.

Grabbing on to him, she hopped toward the bed that was a bit high for her, so he lifted her by the waist. Again their faces came just inches from each other. Thankfully, just as they’d been caught in another staring contest, someone cleared his throat loudly just behind Brandon, snapping them out of it.

A young man held a clipboard and smiled broadly then pulled a pen out of his front pocket. “Good evening.” He spoke quickly, holding the clipboard in front of him. “I’m Rob, and you are Mrs. Brady, right?”

“It’s Ms.” She corrected him politely. “I’m not married, and you can call me Regina.”

Rob looked up at her then at Brandon, his eyebrows furrowing. “Oh, I’m sorry, Regina.” He looked back down on his clipboard and wrote something. “The nurse out front said you were here with your husband.”

Ms. Brady glanced at Brandon, her poignant eyes looking even more innocent as he saw how she tried to hide the pain she was feeling. She quickly brought her attention back to Rob. “No, um.” She winced now, unable to hide it anymore. Brandon had had his share of sprained ankles and ligament injuries, and he knew how painful they could be. “I guess she just assumed,” she continued, pressing her lips together for a moment. “This is Sergeant Billings. We work in the same building where I fell. He was there when it happened and was kind enough to help get me here.”

Rob and Brandon’s eyes met for a second before Rob turned back to Ms. Brady. “Ah, I see. Okay, well, now that we got that straight, I need to get a little more information from you before we start with your vitals.” He looked down at her ankle. “Yep, that’s pretty swollen. It might even be broken.”

“Can you get her some painkillers first?” Brandon spoke up, knowing firsthand how long this could take.

“I can,” Rob said, his brow lifting without looking up, “but I need to get some info from her first.”

Brandon looked down at Rob’s ID. Corporal Robert Lansing—ER. The fact that this young corporal hadn’t referred to him as sir was enough to piss Brandon off. He’d never tolerated that kind of disrespect, but the fact that the asshole didn’t even bother to look at him when he addressed him and that he’d used a condescending tone was more than Brandon would tolerate.

“Do you have a supervisor, Corporal Lansing?”

Immediately, he had both Ms. Brady’s and Lansing’s attention.