Page 29 of Unseen Danger
A laugh sprang from Jazz. The sound he’d heard earlier in the hall. What would Nevaeh’s laugh be like?
“I’m not sure whether to be insulted or take that as a compliment.” Jazz grinned at Nevaeh, whose lips shaped into a smirk.
“It’s kind of both with D-Chop.” Nevaeh let her gaze move from her friend to Branson, and her eyes kept their glint of humor. “But he’s pretty harmless. He means well.”
Only if the woman didn’t fall for his charms. Branson knew what she meant, though.
D-Chop was a magnanimous guy. Generous to a fault with all his buddies and anybody he’d ever known, it seemed. He was always getting jobs for his homies from back in the hood, as he referred to them. Sometimes even giving them money to get them through a rough patch.
Nevaeh glanced away again, and the break in connection brought Branson back to his mental agenda. Get them set up, then go to bed and get some sleep. Considering the effect a woman he barely knew was having on him, he apparently needed the rest.
“If you’ll head back up the hallway you came from, that will take us to the security room.”
Nevaeh, closest to the doorway, grabbed her mug and turned. “Oh—” She stopped abruptly, her body jerking like she’d stumbled into something as coffee sloshed over the edge of the mug.
“Are you okay?” Branson stepped close to the island to see over it, looking for what she’d tripped on.
“Yeah.” She shot him a quick glance, then looked down at the dog standing in front of her. “Sorry, Al. I should’ve told you we were moving.”
The rottweiler looked up at her as if he understood. And his wagging tail said he forgave her.
Jazz chuckled. “Poor guy was settling in for a nap. Did coffee get on him?”
“No.” Nevaeh maneuvered around the big dog. “Just got all over the floor.” She reached for the paper towel roll on the counter along the wall and tore off some sections.
Branson mentally kicked himself. He should’ve thought to hand her some right away. Cleaning up kitchen spills wasn’t his specialty.
She squatted to sop up the brown liquid as he rounded the island and ripped off more paper towels.
He wouldn’t be able to go around without bumping into her, so he waited behind her, ready with reinforcements.
The towels she had were already soaked through, brown and sopping as she wadded them up on the floor.
He crouched and extended the clump of fresh paper towels past her small shoulder. “Here you go.”
Her head twisted toward him with a rapid jerk.
He caught a split-second glimpse of her widened eyes before she sprang up and nearly crashed into her dog again as she scrambled away from him.
Her nostrils flared as she looked at him for a second, her dark eyes filled with…terror.
“Did your leg cramp again?” Jazz went to Nevaeh and took her dog’s leash. She gave a convincing wince as she glanced at Branson. “Hate it when that happens. Nothing like muscle spasms to make you have to move.” She smiled. “Mind if we head to the security room while you finish cleaning this up? It’d be good to walk off the cramp. Right, Nevaeh?”
Branson’s gaze went to the woman who scurried toward the doorway like she couldn’t get away fast enough. She maybe gave a short nod before disappearing with her dog.
Jazz lingered, her smile seemingly real and untroubled. Was she unaware or simply unbothered by her friend’s strange reaction? Or was she that good at covering for a friend?
“Sure, no problem.” Branson tried for a smile but wasn’t nearly as successful as Jazz. “Follow this hallway, then cut through the foyer and take the east hall. It’ll be the first door on your right. Louis will let you in, and I’ll catch up with you there before you go on patrol.”
Branson stood still until Jazz’s Belgian Malinois, the last to leave, entered the hallway and moved out of sight.
What had just happened? The look in Nevaeh’s eyes when she’d stared at him—he’d seen it before. In the eyes of good men he’d fought beside in battle. And the ones who were still fighting battles of the mind stateside.
First time he’d seen such fear caused by him, though. Assuming he was reading the situation correctly. It could make a man think something was wrong with him. Maybe Nevaeh found him so repulsive that he frightened her. Like the way his sisters felt about centipedes and spiders.
He didn’t like that explanation. Not one bit, given how attracted he was to her.
And his gut didn’t buy it either. Her fright was too extreme, her response too primal.