Chapter One

Wyatt

22 months ago

I turned my head and watched as a nurse holding a clipboard came walking down the hallway. Before she passed right by me, she stopped momentarily and inquired, "Excuse me, can I help you?"

I shook my head and swallowed hard, unable to find my voice. It was like there was an elephant on my chest and it was impossible to breathe, let alone respond. Frankly, I wished like hell I could have said yes, that there was something she could do to help me. The reality of the situation was no one could help me. Not now. I could barely help myself right now. What I needed was a fucking miracle.

I watched as she walked away and was out of sight when I raked a hand through my hair and sighed. What I had to do was get the hell out of here. It was a mistake to come here even if it was the whole reason I was on leave. I didn't know what coming to the hospital, standing outside Damon's room was going to do. My younger brother was laid up in a hospital bed, resting in a medically induced coma and I was standing outside of his room like a jackass, unsure of whether I had the strength to go in there and see him in this condition.

Fuck. I leaned against the wall and placed a hand on my head. Damon wasn't just my brother, he was my best friend. There was never a time we weren't there for each other and just like I knew he would for me, I'd sooner die for him than sit back and watch him suffer with broken bones and a head injury.

And I couldn't help but play the what-if game. I mean, this didn't need to happen to him and I couldn't understand why it did. It was just wrong. His parachute should've never failed him. He was a ranger, dammit, the military should've had his back.

Honestly, I wanted to be more pissed at the institution that swore to lead the way when all they did was lead my brother into this hospital bed, but I knew it wasn't anyone's fault.

I looked at my watch and knew I had to go soon. Visiting hours were just about over for the day and I couldn't bring myself to go in and see Damon, not like this. What I needed was to go home and wash off the smell of this fucking hospital. If only soap and water could also scrub away the memories of this place, I mused. I went to leave when I took one last look back at Damon's room. I shook my head and turned back around, though, deciding against changing my mind and going in.

As I walked out, I started thinking perhaps it would be wise to go see my parents, but thought against that, too, knowing I wouldn't know what to say. Besides, Colt was with them—he was always the more compassionate, intuitive one anyway. He was the youngest, so it was odd, but he had a knack for knowing exactly what people needed and taking care of them when they needed it the most, especially Mom. They didn't need me, that was for sure.

I got in my car and drove, no real destination in mind. I just had to get away from the hospital and all the memories of my brother that had been haunting me since I heard the news.

I hadn't been back in Miami in so long I worried I would feel out of place in the city I used to call home, but I supposed that would never really happen. Miami was my home, always would be.

Stopped at a red light a few miles from my parents' house, I looked around and spotted my old stomping ground. The bar where I had my first beer at eighteen. Damon and I had snuck out the midnight before I officially turned eighteen. He swore Mom and Dad would never find out, so I went with him and he took us to this bar. I'd never forget that night. Damon flirted with a waitress practically twice his age at the time just to get her to sneak me a beer. It was crowded and some cover band was playing on the small stage in the corner.

Shit, I hadn't thought about that night in a long time. I almost grinned at the memory before realizing that there was nothing to smile about. Those days were gone and Damon was in no condition to have a beer with me now.

Without giving it any real thought, I pulled into the lot and parked, decidedly intent on having a drink for Damon. But I had a feeling a beer, his beverage of choice, wouldn't cut it tonight. No, tonight called for the hard stuff.

There was too much at stake and the feeling of loss was so strong right now, all memories of my Susan and her sudden death were crashing down on me, making this shit with Damon even worse. I couldn't lose my brother, I just couldn't.

The bar was just as crowded as ever and I found the only available spot at the end of the bar next to a beautiful brunette who looked like she was alone.

"May I?" I asked.

She looked up from her martini and the corner of her lips turned upward slightly. "Might as well," she replied, her deep, breathy voice drawing me in. "No one else is coming to claim the seat."

My eyes flit between her brown ones before I broke contact. "Thanks." I slid onto the stool and waved the bartender over. "Ballantine's neat, please." I sighed and added, "And a beer. Whatever you have on tap will do just fine."

I noticed her staring at me out of the corner of my eye. Then heard that voice, her voice, noting, "Interesting choice of drinks."

I looked over at her and watched her expression change from the slightly bummed out look she had earlier to a more amused one, almost curious, like she couldn't stop herself from wanting to know more. That made two of us. Hell, she was an attractive woman, but this wasn't what I came here for. I came here to forget about my problems for a bit and have a drink for my brother. And myself.

I turned my gaze back to the bartender and tapped my fingers on the bar. I shrugged my shoulders before finally answering, "The whisky is for the day—" I closed my eyes and shook my head. "Scratch that. Days I've had."

She nodded and pointed to the frothy drink that was just placed in front of me. "And the beer?"

"The beer's for my brother."

She looked around now, her eyes darting every which way, scanning the bar until they finally landed back on me. She licked her lips and smiled. "I don't see anyone in here as hot as you." She downed the rest of her drink.

I laughed, ignoring the comment about him not being here. I didn't want to get into that, not with a stranger I met at a bar. "Please. I'm hotter," I joked, and for the first time in too long I felt better. Not by much, but better just the same.

She leaned over, pushing her glass forward and motioning for the bartender to bring her another. "So what's your name?"

"Wyatt Ryder."

She smiled and drank from her newly-filled martini glass, holding the olive skewer between her fingers like it was a cigarette. "I like that."

I started with the whisky, savoring the taste. "Do I get to know your name?"

She nodded and said, "Name's Brandy Pruitt."

"How many of those have you had, Brandy?"

"This is only my second," she said, "but I've been here for hours, so that makes it better, right?"

I tilted my head. I wasn't sure what brought her to this bar tonight to drink alone, but whatever it was, I highly doubted she wanted to mount on top of it a wicked headache in the morning. "Still, why don't we slow down?" I suggested, taking the glass from her hands and putting it down on the bar. "Have you eaten anything?"

"Not since lunch," she said, pouting at the glass I slid away from her.

I nodded and listened as the band started playing an old ‘80s set. "What would you like? And don't say a salad."

She bit down on her red-painted lip and leaned into me, her voice barely above a whisper as she answered, "A burger with all the fixings."

When the bartender came back around I ordered two burgers with all the fixings. "So what brings you here, Brandy?"

"To drink, of course," she said, still leaning into me. The closer she got to me, the harder it became to ignore her breasts that were pushed up against the top of her black dress, daring me to look. I held eye contact, though.

"Besides that."

"I was supposed to be on a date, but he stood me up for work. So I told him not to call me again. What about you?"

What kind of idiot would stand her up?

I cleared my throat. "Like I said, it's been a wicked few days. Needed a drink," I returned, and she raised an eyebrow. "My brother's in the hospital down the street. I needed to get away." Just then, the bartender returned with our plates and slid them in front of us.

"Oh, you definitely need a drink," she said, taking a bite of her burger. "Hospitals suck!"

"They do," I agreed and bit into mine, the beer still sitting there, haunting me, reminding me of Damon. I pushed it away and all thoughts of him. I needed to clear my head and while I thought having a drink was what I needed, maybe I was wrong. Perhaps this woman was the real distraction I needed. "Are you feeling better?"

She shrugged. "I am now that you're here."

I shrugged off her attempt at flirting. "What do you do?"

"I'm in between jobs right now. Not sure what I want to do with my life." She looked everywhere but at me and looked deep in thought, her brown eyes turning dark.

I found myself getting lost in her eyes and willed myself to look away. But it wasn't just her eyes I loved, it was our conversation, the way she was so candid. I wanted to talk to her forever, but the reality was that I was on borrowed time here. In another seventy-two hours I had to go back and Brandy would be nothing more than a blip in time. I looked at my watch and debated whether I should get going, but when she turned to face me and placed a hand on my knee, I was a goner.

I stared into her eyes and let my gaze fall down to where she was licking her lips before bringing the bottom one between her teeth. What I wouldn't give for the chance to feel those lips on mine, to be the one who was biting her bottom lip, my teeth grazing them before swiping them with my tongue.

Without a word, she leaned over, sliding her hand up my leg and flicked my ear with her tongue. I lifted her chin and turned her to face me, capturing her mouth with mine. She immediately parted her lips and I slipped my tongue inside, exploring her mouth. I drew back for a moment and licked her bottom lip like I so desperately wanted to do.

When we separated, I placed my thumb on her lip and felt her breath on me as she closed her eyes and moaned before whispering, "Let's get out of here, Wyatt Ryder."