THE BRAVO BOYS - SNAKE EATER [book three]

Chapter TWO

Shelby Quinn

Logan Nash is a formidable man, Southern with a sexy Texan drawl and straight up with a no shit matter of fact manner.. I can see from the way he carries himself, squared shoulders and head high, that he is a man of confidence, more than aware of just how drop-dead gorgeous he is and to cap it off if everything Iris has told me is true the guy is a genius.. Literally..
Logan Nash possesses an obvious and intimidating intellect that I'm sure makes him used to getting his way..

The way he looks at me, as though he can see straight through to my thoughts sets my nerves on edge.. Automatically making me feel defensive..

He is a strange combination of passive and commanding.. Friendly, yet aloof.. There is a confidence there that I can't help but find appealing, but also something else.. Something evasive, something hidden, a mystery I want to solve..

Never one to allow myself to be intimidated by anybody, let alone a devilishly attractive cyber-criminal I square my shoulders determinedly and follow after him as the elevator doors ping open and he sets off in long strides across the lobby, forcing me to hop-step double-time beside him in order to keep up, taking two and a half paces for his every one of his own.. "Mr Nash, I really think we got off on the wrong foot, maybe if you would just--"

He stops abruptly at the glass doors, tugging one open and stepping aside for me to go first he holds up a hand..

"If you call me Mr Nash one more time, Barbie--" His icy tone is mocking, maybe even a little rude, like he wants me to leave him alone..
Obviously, he has made it clear that he doesn't want to help me..

But I need him..
He is essential to the mission.. People are counting on me..

"You'll what?" I try to smile, but it probably comes across as sarcastic and snide, as almost everything I do seems to.. I don't know why I rub people the wrong way.. I always have.. Too blunt a mouth on too pretty a face perhaps.. Too opinionated, too driven, too loud, too brassy..
I have been called all of these things over the course of my decorated career, and sure, for the most part I try to rise above it..

But sometimes I can't help but wonder what my life would look like if I were softer.. More feminine or whatever.. And I don't mean in appearance..

Maybe I wouldn't be so lonely.. Maybe I wouldn't have made so many mistakes, alienating myself frim everybody who ever cared about me.. Maybe I'd have a completely different life.. Id be married by now with the perfect husband and the kids.. Maybe I'd just be happier in general..

Then again.. Maybe not..
Still, nobody can accuse me of not trying.. I definitely had.. That is the worst part..

I had tried.. And I had failed..
I always fail..

I had spent the better part of my teens and early twenties in beauty pageants to please my grandmother, rest her soul.. I would smile and wave and walk across the stage as if I were perfect, all the while slowly dying inside.. After her passing I was free to choose my own path.. In a wildly contrasting leap.. I chose the Corps..