Mr. Big Jerk: A Forbidden Second Chance Romance (Kinda Cocky Series Book 3), стр. 12

“Jealousy doesn’t look good on you, man,” I murmured.

It was true, though. I was incredibly jealous of what my brothers had. They’d met the love of their lives, and it showed on their faces. I’d never felt like that with my ex-wife, which was probably why she had cheated on me in the first place. Other than giving her great sex whenever I was home, she needed more than I could provide while being a Navy SEAL. She always accused me of never being present. Of always being different every time I came home, so it was like relearning how to live with me. She complained of never getting to a point in our marriage where we were comfortable with one another because, with every deployment, it changed the game.

Then, I was diagnosed with PTSD.

“Son of a bitch,” I murmured.

I looked down into the sink as I pressed my hands against the bathroom countertop. I closed my eyes and tried to push the memories off to the side, but I couldn't. Every time I saw my brothers with Kelly and Karina, it made me relive the horrible chance I took at love. At a new life. At a family and happiness, and serenity.

“You don’t deserve it,” I whispered.

Somedays, I questioned why my ex left. But, times like this? I knew why. I couldn't give her what she wanted. Maggie had this glorified view of what it meant to be a military wife, and when it didn’t live up to her expectations, she blamed me for it. And that wasn’t my fault. But, it was my fault for not preparing her ahead of time. It was my fault for not taming her expectations. I should’ve been able to step up and take the reins. I should’ve been able to guide her and get her to understand rather than giving her a crash course in that shit once we got hitched.

“You’re so stupid!” I roared.

I pushed away from the counter and stormed out of the bathroom. I charged over to my small kitchenette and pulled a fresh bottle of tequila from the cabinet. The only thing to do with tonight was to drown it out. That was the only choice I had. But as I stood there, with that bottle clutched in my hand, my mind decided it wanted to torture me a little more.

Roxy looked good tonight.

I opened the bottle and held it up to my lips, refusing to charge down that road tonight. It was the last thing I needed, especially since it was true. I didn’t need to use Roxy as a distraction, and I sure as hell didn’t need to be focusing on an employee like that.

Hell, me being drawn to her was one of the reasons why she was my first hire.

I flopped down into my recliner and took another swig of tequila. I set the bottle between my legs and reached for my remote, turning on my television. And the first fucking thing to pop up on the screen was a commercial for baby powder.

And I was entranced by the scenes the father had with his son.

“I wouldn’t mind a son,” I murmured.

Someone to take hiking and fishing. Someone to do outdoor stuff with and teach how to hunt. A young boy to raise into the kind of man society needed instead of the men society kept getting.

The thought made me grin.

At one point in time, I wanted a family with my ex-wife. I wanted to have her pregnant and swollen with my children. I wanted a big family, too. At least four children. All healthy, happy, and loud as can be. My grin grew into a smile as I thought about it. With the commercials flipping in the background, I forgot all about the tequila between my legs as my thoughts pulled me back.

It was closing me off from the rest of the world.

The life I’d led after my divorce wasn’t one to write home about. For a few years after my wife and I split, I drank myself stupid every night. I went out with Bryce on the weekends before he got married to pick up ‘bunk bunnies’ and fuck them senseless before sending them home walking funny. Then, four years after losing my wife, I lost my best friend.

“Bryce,” I whispered.

I lost the only person that really mattered to me—my brother. He was my confidant. The best friend I’d ever had. I became a drunkard, which was why I was sidelined from missions. I became unkempt, which is why I was dropped to pushing papers instead of getting out there with my SEAL buddies. Then, it came time to re-up my contract, and I figured leaving was better than staying and being reminded of everything the Navy took from me.

Only to find myself in Vegas doing the same damn thing.

Every weekend, I went out and threw back some drinks. Every weekend, I brought a new girl back to this dumbass studio apartment for a rousing night of debaucherous pleasure. And once the first glint of sun came around the next morning, she was in a taxi headed home—courtesy of my wallet.

It was getting old, though.

“I’m getting old,” I whispered.

I thought back to Roxy and her party. I thought back to the cute little number she’d been wearing and felt my sweatpants getting tight around my pelvis. That woman never ceased to be the sexiest thing I’d ever laid my eyes on. Especially when I first met her last year. Roxy working to get her sister laid tickled my funny bone, but watching her work that hard over something she cared about is what drew me to her. Yeah, the idea was stupid. Yeah, the idea was frivolous. But, she threw her all into it while making sure her sister would be safe.

I liked that about her.

I liked a lot about her.

Now that she was working for me, though, any idea of asking her