“That’s a lotta hypotheticals,” he said.
Her jaw clenched. It would be so easy. Just pow! And there would go the handsome. In her fantasies, at least. In real life, he’d probably look even more tough and delectable with a fat lip. Ugh.
He slammed the magazine back into his weapon. The move made his biceps bunch, drawing Maddy’s attention to the tattoo inked onto the skin on the inside of his forearm. For RL the scrolling black letters read. And she knew it was both a testament and a promise to a fallen teammate. Rusty Lawrence’s horrific and untimely death was the reason Bran and the others had retired early from the Navy. And their pledge to Rusty to live life to its fullest was the reason they were all now determined to find the lost treasure of the Santa Cristina.
And see! That’s not the kind of stuff people who are mere pen pals share with each other!
As soon as she had the thought, she brushed it away. Stay on target. Stay on target. Right. When all else fails, fall back on Star Wars references.
“Bran…” She took a step toward him. Up close, she was struck again by just how powerful he was. Big enough to hunt a bear with a switch. Another of Grandma Bettie’s favorites. A smarter gal would’ve taken one look at his scowl and backed down. But Maddy had been dealing with overgrown buttheads her whole life. “I know the ins and outs of Fort Jefferson. I have a mental blueprint”—she tapped her temple—“right up here.”
“And how’s that?” Bran asked, but she could tell he wasn’t really interested. He was just humoring her while he planted his foot on the kitchen chair and checked the knife strapped to his calf.
“I studied up,” she said. “I was plannin’ to give the girls an in-depth tour and history lesson tomorrow.”
And there you go! This trip wasn’t totally about me bein’ selfish and wantin’ to get within spittin’ distance of you. I was goin’ to make it educational too.
Her conscience immediately answered with a snidely worded, Whatever you have to tell yourself to sleep at night, sister.
Sometimes her conscience really needed her smarty-pants ass kicked.
“No,” Bran said again. Just that single syllable spoken with the utmost authority.
Maddy wanted to shove her hands on her hips and scream, Well, who the hell died and made you King Shit? But she’d learned long ago that another old saying was true: It was easier to catch a fly with honey than vinegar.
She batted her lashes and pasted on a false smile. “So you’re tellin’ me you already know you need to be careful around the northeast side of the fort’s parade grounds?”
A muscle ticked in his jaw. She could see him struggling. Finally, he gritted, “No. Why there?”
“Because there’s a weird openin’ in an old magazine house that the bad guys could easily pop out of.” She tried not to sound smug. She wasn’t sure she managed it. And given that was the case, she reckoned, Oh, what the hell. Might as well press my luck. “And do you know the placement of all the old gun rooms?”
He shook his head and shrugged. “But this won’t be the first time we’ve had to go into a situation blind.” He turned to Mason. “You ready?”
“What’s the plan when we find them?” Mason asked.
“Well, we already tried the carrot. So let’s give ’em the stick, what’d’ya say?”
Mason nodded. “My thoughts exactly.”
Bran turned to Rick, leveling on the young ranger a hard look, one he’d probably perfected in places and in situations he’d just as soon forget. “Now, like I told you, if anyone but me, Mason, or those girls comes through this door, you don’t hesitate. You shoulder that rifle and let ’em have it.” He tilted his head toward the machine gun he had taken from the bad guy. Bran had quickly gone over how to operate the weapon with Rick, all the while handling the rifle as easily and familiarly as if it were his own.
“I’ll hold down the fort,” Rick said, weapon in hand, his handsome face contorting. “No pun intended.”
When Bran and Mason turned for the door, Maddy’s frustration turned to desperation. She clutched Bran’s forearm. The heat coming off his skin was nearly enough to burn her.
“Please let me come,” she pleaded. She couldn’t stand the thought of staying safe inside the ranger’s station while Bran and Mason were out risking their hides. Besides, she truly believed she could be an asset. And if Bran would just take a moment to consider—
“No,” he said, going for a world record or something.
“Ugh!” She threw her hands in the air. “No? No? That’s your favorite word, isn’t it?”
“It’s a classic,” he told her calmly, succeeding in making her more irate. “So much simpler than, say, ain’t gonna happen or not a chance in hell.”
Mason made a move toward the two of them, and Maddy’s irk boiled over. “You”—she swung on the big man—“shut up. I’m warnin’ you.”