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The Man I Want to Be (Under Covers)(2)

By:Christina Elle


"Damn it," he grunted, bending to grab his throbbing leg. When he did,  she took full advantage. She reared back and punched him in the chin.  Hard. Exactly like he'd taught her when they were kids. Pain exploded in  his brain as his head whipped to the side. He scrambled forward to grab  her, but she took off in huff.         

     



 

The pain in his leg and face didn't relent. Which could only mean one  thing-Kenna wasn't a vision. She was here. After twelve years, she was  back and there was no escape from his past and what he'd done to her.

 …

Kenna McCord shuffled as fast as she could across the hot sand, cursing  herself for not taking her trainer up on the extra sessions he'd  offered. Cardio was not her friend, and it was never more evident than  right now as she struggled for air after only a handful of rushed steps.  How did Pamela Anderson make running across the sand look so  effortless? She hadn't, Kenna decided. Pamela Anderson was full of shit.

She swiped the back of her hand over her clammy forehead, pulling with  it a few annoying little hairs that were falling into her eyes.

He was here. Bryan. Or as she called him: Bear. Her long ago love and  once fiancé. She'd practically been a child then. That time in her life  seemed a million years ago. But his betrayal certainly felt fresh based  on the way her body simmered with renewed anger.

Out of all the beaches in the world, why did he have to be on this one?

She made it to the edge of the badminton playing area before a strong  hand gripped her arm and jerked her to a stop. She gasped and tried to  pull against the restraint, but she knew from experience it was futile.  The man attached to the hand was not only stubborn, but he was stronger  than a raging bull.

She whirled around to face him, casting her anger out like a force field. "What?"

"Fuck." He drew back. "It's really you."

"Of course it's me," she said, crossing her arms.

He looked different now. He'd been a clean-cut, twenty-one-year-old when  she'd last seen him. He was still tall as an oak tree and wide as a  barn. But his hair was long, secured at the base of his skull with a  rubber band. He had a full beard that made him appear gruffer. His  broad, muscular chest and defined biceps that were noticeable even with a  shirt on were also new. As she looked at him now, he most definitely  personified his childhood nickname of Bear.

He narrowed his eyes like he still didn't believe it. "What are you doing here?"

"I belong here. What are you doing here?" She jabbed a finger into his  solid chest, trying to impale him, but immediately regretted the motion  when a stroke of pain shot up her hand. Damn, his chest was even firmer  than she remembered.

His jaw tightened. "That's impossible. You don't know anyone. You don't have any family."

Okay, that struck a nerve. He was right. She didn't have immediate  family to speak of. Only Aunt Estelle. But that was no reason to hold it  against her and act like she was some sorry loser.

Asshole.

She hauled her fist back again, but before she could connect a second  time with his arrogant face, he caught it in his big palm. Kenna pulled  her hand back and thrust it on her popped-out hip.

His bushy eyebrows crunched together. "What the fuck was that for? Stop punching me."

"I'm such a loser," she said. "That it? I don't have any friends or  family so there's no way anyone would want to invite me to a beautiful  beach like this?"

"What? No. That's not what I meant. It's just-I'm surprised. I didn't  expect you to be here. After … " He swallowed and ran a hand over his  crown of shoulder-length, dirty-blond hair. "You know, after everything  that happened. I just figured you'd want to stay as far away from me as  possible."

"I do, believe me." Kenna relished in his hurt expression. Oh, how she  wanted to give him a piece of her mind. She'd practiced for weeks what  she'd say to him when he finally returned home. She was geared up and  ready to blast him with everything she had.

I trusted you. Gave you my whole heart, every tiny shred, and you ripped  it out without a second glance. You made me love you. Live for you.  Want to marry you, and then you walked away and never came back. Twelve  years you kept me waiting … and like an idiot, I did. I loved you even  when everyone in our small town told me it was a lost cause. That you'd  forgotten me. Us.

I never gave up hope.

Until finally one day she'd woken up and decided she didn't want to live  in misery anymore. The only solution she'd come up with was to never  place her trust in another person and allow them the power to crush her  like Bear had done. So she'd hardened herself. She'd moved on, ignoring  the incessant slice of emptiness of never knowing what she'd said or  done to keep him away.

"I'm going to ask this one more time," he said, dragging her back to the present. "What are you doing here?"         

     



 

Her chin shot backward. "Excuse me? Like you have a right to order me  around?" She slapped her palms against his hard chest and tried to give  him a firm shove. She'd never been able to do it in the past, so she  didn't know what made her think she could move him now. Frustrating man.  "What are you doing here?"

His hands closed around her wrists like steel bands, holding her palms  against him. He stepped forward, pressing his body to hers. Bold, she'd  give him that. He was well within range where she could get a knee into  an important part of his anatomy.

He must have seen the deadly gleam in her eyes and remembered that her stubbornness rivaled his, because he released her.

He sighed, stepping back. "Ash and Luke are my best friends. I'm here for them."

"Friends from the Army?"

"No. We're in the DEA together."

"DEA?" she nearly shrieked. "So you're not in the Army anymore? When did  you get out?" She couldn't explain her surprise. It had been more than a  decade after all. He could've done anything in that time. But her last  real memory had been sending him off to basic training. He'd made it  clear he was going to make a career out of the military. It's all he'd  wanted to do.

I'll be back, Kenna, he'd told her. I'll come back for you, and we'll  build a life together. No matter where the Army sends me, we'll be  together.

"I left the Army years ago," he said with a confused expression.

He was just full of leaving, wasn't he?

"Why? I thought you-"

"I just did, okay?" he snapped. "It doesn't matter why."

Obviously a sore subject but fine. It wasn't her concern anymore.

She shifted her weight and placed a hand on her forehead. "So does this  mean you're not only here to attend the wedding, but that you're in the  wedding, too?"

He eyed her with an unreadable expression. "That's right."

She huffed a laugh. "Great."

"Why?"

"Do you remember me telling you about the summers I spent with my great-aunt in Baltimore?"

He nodded, his eyes blank for a second before morphing into recognition. "Ah, shit. Which one?"

"Which one what?"

"The grannies. Which one is your aunt? Maybel? Rose?"

"Estelle."

Bear barked out a laugh. "The batshit one. Of course." He shook his head  in disbelief. "Un-fucking-believable. So that's your connection? You're  here as what? Estelle's date?"

"No. I'm here for Sammie." She'd spent summers as a young girl, staying  with Great-Aunt Estelle. She looked forward to it every year because it  gave her a chance to see Samantha Harper, her childhood best friend.

As if summoned, Sammie sprinted in their direction, distraught expression in place. Trailing was her fiancé, Ash Cooper.

Sam stopped in front of them, sucking in air like it was going out of  style. Sam's long blond hair was pulled into a high ponytail, and she  wore an adorable white tank top and white tennis skort ensemble that  showed off her athletic build.

Ash slammed to a halt next to Sam, a worried look on his rugged face.  His five o'clock shadow was more I forgot to shave than it was I wanna  look badass. Though, he definitely did look badass with his  high-and-tight military haircut, slim-fitting T-shirt across wide  shoulders and thick biceps, and cargo shorts.

"What's going on here? Why is she punching you?" Sam asked Bear, then  swung her concerned blue eyes on Kenna. "Why are you punching him?"

"I want a new badminton partner," Kenna said, giving Bear her back.

"Okay," Sam said slowly, sliding a quick, cryptic look at her fiancé.  She came back to Kenna, and said, "Is there a reason you don't like your  current partner? Or, you know, why you'd punch him in the face after  just meeting him?"

"Well, it is Tyke," Ash said, lips twitching. "There're days I wanna punch him, too."

Bear gave his friend the finger.

She glanced down at her navy flip-flops, brand-new baby-pink nail polish  on her toes, and the hot sand beneath them. God, what she wouldn't give  for a huge batch of quicksand right now. Please swallow me up and save  me from having to confront all of this, in front of an audience no less.