Deploy, Part One (Rawlings #1)(12)

He still couldn’t figure out how in the hell he’d managed to get himself in this situation or how he was going to make it to the end of the night without this girl twisting his head all over again.

Justice slowly knelt down then leaned against the wall with her legs stretched out and crossed, and did what she did best—stared at Declan. He was impossible to read, but she loved to try.

He was going through the bag he had with him, apparently taking inventory and not liking what he saw.

Finally, with a grunt he handed her a bottle of water then sat down next to her and drew up one knee, the one closest to her, basically making a barrier between them.

The barrier didn’t do anything to quell her butterflies. He had a history of being an ass around her. Then when she least expected it he’d kiss her and make her melt from the inside out.

Both times he had decided to ignore her afterward, which basically told her she was just another girl, nothing special, so she reciprocated the gesture and made sure she didn’t look like a star-struck kid around him. In the past she could never decide if she was mad or hurt, knowing all the while it was both.

It didn’t matter now though. The boy she knew was going to be gone in days. With most boys, it was hard to tell the moment they decided to man up and become a man. Not with Marines. Justice was pretty sure it happened in boot camp, across thirteen weeks.

Right now, she was positive if she told him she had planned to get him to take her home it would only infuriate him. Nolan had to be teasing me... she thought.

When she’d asked Nolan why he went after Murdock the way he did almost two months ago, he grinned and said, “Because Declan would’ve kicked my ass if a tear of yours went unanswered.” Her expression questioned him and he laughed in his carefree Nolan way. “He’s got it bad, but don’t worry. I’ve got your back until he figures that out. No broken hearts ‘round here.”

It was exactly what she didn’t need to hear, it made her watch Declan more, daydream about him more.

Teasing her, throwing out some off the wall statement, was something Nolan was known to do. Out of all the Rawlings’ boys he seemed to have the best sense of humor, which helped him get out of more than one conflict at school. His charm didn’t hurt matters either.

Justice was dreading Nolan leaving, too. He was the breath of fresh air she took in every day. Declan was the dream that never left her thoughts.

Declan held the radio to his ear to hear the warning that had just come in. He didn’t want her to know how close the storm was. From how fidgety her hands were he was sure she didn’t handle these things well.

Once the radio was quiet, he dug in his bag for a shirt. He almost pulled out another one of Nolan’s t-shirts, but he spotted his hoodie, the one Nolan liked to jack on the regular, and handed it to her.

“It’s clean, I swear. You’re freezing, so put it on.”

Clean or dirty was not what was causing her to hesitate. It was the realism that he was taking care of her, that he offered a sweet gesture, thoughtlessly.

Pick a signal, Declan. You’re making my head spin. Slowly, she pulled the cloth over her shoulders as she breathed in the aroma—a deep, demanding spice.

In truth, she was in awe that he’d noticed she was trembling. He hadn’t looked her in the eye yet, and he made it a point to keep his distance. Even though he’d guided her by the small of her back and held her hand, his touch was guarded.

“Did they just say Bradyville?” she asked, nodding at the radio.

“They did, but the streets they said were a good half mile away. They’re more worried about flash flooding. Stay put is what they’re all saying.”

She let out a deep breath as she dug in her bag for her phone; just to make sure no one had called her.

“Service sucks down here. It’s better by the lockers, but I’m betting the lines are down.” He nodded to her. “Your dad not done yelling at you or somethin’?”

She held his stare longer than she wanted to. Justice wanted to see him, his demons, but wasn’t ready for him to see hers, to understand the storm below her calm surface.

“He likes the sound of his voice,” she said, finally moving her gaze from him.

It was tense for a second, but finally he spoke. “Would you tell somebody if it was too bad?”

She bit her lip, telling somebody anything was a fool’s errand. The Sheriff was one of her dad’s best friends. And her father all but ran the mayor’s campaign. His real-estate business had him connected to almost every walk of life in or around Bradyville, and those were just his public friends, not the ones he drank with, or played cards with or whatever he did when he’d disappear at night.

Brent Rose was furious Justice’s grandfather had stepped in at all when it came to Justice, and the moment he died he made moves to control everything he had, including the church and the home Justice lived in.

Brent Rose found a loophole, everything was left to Justice, and she was a minor. Even when her grandmother tried to say she was a guardian, too, it came down to what kind of one she was, and he split enough hairs to where it came out she had no financial say. After Brent Rose had all but robbed her grandmother, he moved under her roof. And now here they were. Waiting for the right way to get back what was theirs.

“I know how to deal,” she said, flinching a smile. She didn’t want this, for him to look at her like a charity case—to remember her as some poor girl with a sordid father.