Garrett secured the tag he’d been working on and immediately began writing on another. “Not if we don’t get our luggage checked in with the crew and end up having to wear the clothes on our backs for the entire trip.”
“Nope.” Colt shook his head. With a raised brow and a pointed finger, his brother’s blue eyes which matched his exactly lasered into a stern look that would rivel their father’s. “I’ve put up with your grumpy ass all week. I don’t even know what happened to put you in such a pissy fucking mood, and at this point, I don’t even care. You are hereby notified that any and all grouchy ass comments or foul moods are strictly prohibited for the next six days.”
Shit.His brother was right. Hehadbeen grumpier than normal since coming back from that last job.
Almost dying could do that to you.
Not that Colt would know anything about that, thank God. The last thing Garrett ever wanted for his family or anyone he cared about was to be touched by the evils of his world.
That was a weight he was more than happy to bear alone.
Even if he wanted to share what had happened—which he didn’t—he couldn’t. Just like when he was with the Rangers, all Tac-Ops missions were classified.
Without responding to his brother’s scolding, Garrett finished attaching the tag to the bigger of his two bags and placed it into a large metal cage as they’d been instructed to do.
He ignored the slight soreness still present in his chest. It had been seven days exactly since he and his team had returned home, and as of this morning, the bruise had turned from a dark blue and red tint to a nasty greenish yellow.
Given its location, hiding it up to this point had been effortless. But that wasn’t going to last for long, and Garrett had yet to come up with a story to explain what had caused it.
Better figure that out before Colt drags your ass to the pool.
Given the multitude of activities available that didn’t require him to be shirtless, he planned to steer Colt in a different direction. At least for the first couple of days. By that time the bruise should be all but healed.
He hoped.
“There.” Colt tossed his pen back onto the rectangular table next to them. “Done.”
“They go in here.” Garrett dropped his second bag into the cage. Bending at the waist, he grabbed the strap connected to his carryon duffle and slid it over his shoulder.
“Why don’t you put that one in, too? That way you don’t have to mess with it once we’re on board.”
“I’d rather not,” he kept his answer vague. Colt would probably shit his pants if he knew there was a government-issued weapon secured snuggly inside.
Each member of Tac-Ops held special TSA and Customs’ clearance. Whether they were traveling in the air or on the sea—or in this case, both—all they had to do was show their White House issued ID, and they were good to go.
In both the airport and customs, Garrett had maneuvered things a bit to ensure he went through a separate line from Colt. Otherwise, his brother would’ve seen the ID which served as an all-access pass to carry both in the air and on the water. Then he would’ve started asking questions.
Questions Garrett couldn’t answer.
“Suit yourself.” Colt let the duffle bag conversation go. “Come on, bro. Looks like they’re starting to board.”
Seeing that his brother was right, Garrett fell in line beside him. Following the crowd, the two men made their way out of the platform’s covered portion and onto the wide, concrete walkway leading to the ship’s boarding area.
Really taking in the ship for the first time since arriving, he had to admit…it was bigger than he’d expected.
“Damn.”
“Right?” Colt gave him a blatant,I told you solook. “You really need to get out of your own head and start appreciating the beauty of your surroundings. Like that pretty little thing right over there.”
At his brother’s low, appreciative whistle, Garrett followed the other man’s gaze to a woman walking up ahead.
A floppy, wide brimmed hat, like the ones he’d seen women wear to the beach, rested atop thick layers of long, dark brown locks that fell over her shoulders in waves. The gorgeous hair stopped in the middle of her back, and Garrett’s hands twitched with a sudden urge to run his fingers through it.
The dress’s loose fit hid what he instinctively knew to be luscious curves. His gaze dropped to the delicate bare ankles brushing against the ruffled hem. Fuck, even the woman’s feet, encased in a pair of strappy white sandals, turned him on.
Jesus. Had it really been so long since he’d spent time with a woman he was becoming obsessed with a pair offeet?
Quickly doing the mental math, Garrett begrudgingly admitted to himself that yes…ithadbeen that long.