What Part of Marine Don't You Understand - By Heather Long Page 0,13

give her the look her brothers did—the one that said, So, stupid, why are you doing it?

Owing him a reward for the bemused question that didn’t insult her intelligence, she lifted her shoulders. “Honestly? Because if I record it, then I get a say in how the songs are used and maybe—just maybe, I can help. My dad always told us, ‘he who gives the order should lead the charge.’ I want my music to matter, I want my songs to help. I can’t—I can’t dodge bullets or wear a uniform. I grew up Marine, but that isn’t for me. I’m too much of a chicken when the big guns are out. I’d rather run and hide than run and face them. And that’s okay because I have four brothers who run into those fires for me. So I want to do something for them.”

Had she rushed it? Had she said too much?

“You do do something for them.” The soft drawl of Matt’s voice pulled her forward. “You give them something to fight for and defend.”

Tears pricked her eyes, but she was too long accomplished at burying that emotion. Her brothers earned her respect, and her tears, and deserved to be shielded from them. “Thank you. I want to do the same for them here at home—protect them, defend them, champion the causes that help.”

“What happened?”

She glanced away, studying the trees. The day’s warmth was about perfect. Pleasant without being hot and a breeze to keep them cool despite sitting right in the sun. “To who?”

“Who got hurt?”

“My oldest brother.” She pulled out a blade of grass and twirled it around. “Stupid accident. He was in a ’copter, it took fire, went down. He banged his leg up bad, but…took too long to get medical care and it got infected.”

“He lost the leg?” Quiet, soft and steady. Naomi hadn’t imagined the shakiness in him earlier, but he stared at her quietly, one hand on Jethro’s back. The intensity in his gaze sent a shiver of awareness through her.

Comforting you, not trying to turn you on. Down girl. “Yeah, he lost his right leg from just above the knee. He wears a prosthetic and never complained or got upset. His only focus getting well and returning to duty in the field.” She shook her head. “Poster boy for the Marines. We have this deal—he plays tough, strong, and wise older brother, and I’m the oohing and ahhing, impressed baby sister—who occasionally tweaks him for being so all-knowing and wise.”

Matt laughed. “My sister does that. Only she’s a brat.”

“Oh, I can do that, too.” She enjoyed studying him. He was a really handsome guy. His square jaw said tough, but the dimple in his right cheek told her sweet. And the blue eyes didn’t quit—they were pure sexy. And I have it bad…stop!

“I bet. Okay, so I brought you lunch. Time for you to pay for the meal.” He raised his brows and heat flushed through her. He couldn’t possibly mean with sex.

Dammit.

He nodded to her guitar and heat scalded her face. Yeah, he definitely didn’t mean sex.

“Absolutely—what do you want to hear?” She fought for composure and retrieved her guitar.

“I want to hear one of your songs.”

Oh, hell….

Chapter Five

They walked back together, Matt insisted on carrying her guitar and she allowed him the privilege as long as she got to hold Jethro’s leash. The Labrador trotted happily between them. Matt chose the longer route to the apartment complex, delaying the goodbye. Lunch turned into an afternoon together and it neared dinner.

He considered asking her if she wanted pizza, but the right thing meant taking her out for dinner. Out meant crowds and people and noise. Out meant leaving himself open to a nutty and that wasn’t fair to her. She had an apartment in the C complex, about a quarter of a mile from his own and one of the furthest from the medical center. Made sense, she wasn’t there for medical treatment.

“You hungry?” She took the lead, following the sidewalk around to the far side. Her apartment faced the greenbelt with its sparse woods rather than the running paths or the parking lot.

“We just had lunch.” Jethro sat when they reached her door, but she pushed it open without reaching for her keys. It wasn’t locked. Matt frowned and blocked her sailing through the door with the guitar case. “Why is it open?”

“Because I didn’t want to carry the keys with me, so I left it unlocked. Have you seen