Free Jensen:: A Military Bad Boy Romance (The Bradford Brothers Book 1) by Juliana Conners

that I don’t ever remember possessing.
    I’ve had to scratch my way through life, fighting for everything I’ve earned. And these pussies think they can just waltz up the mountain— at an incredibly slow pace— and take it. The Air Force doesn’t know what it’s doing if it would rather have these slowpokes fights its wars than me.
    “That was pathetic,” I yell at the men, which wipes the smirks off their faces. “Only half the trainees that started are left, and only two of you made it up the mountain in any kind of semi- decent time. Congratulations. The rest of you would be dead by now.”
    I throw my canteen, still half full of water, at the surprised men.
    “Tell your fellow trainees I’m so disappointed in their dismal performance that I left. They can find their own way down. They’ll probably need the rest of what’s in my canteen because they’ll be huffing and puffing too much without it. And do be sure to tell them that if their next performance is this horrendous, they can count themselves out of the program.”
     

     
    Two hours later, I’m at a bar with Ramsey and Harlow when I get the call I’ve been waiting on despite trying not to.
    “Jensen, it’s Riley.”
    Her voice sounds so damn sexy. I can’t help picturing the cleavage and ass that goes with it.
    Harlow must know by the look on my face that I’m excited to hear her voice on the other end of the line.
    “Flavor of the day?” he asks me.
    “Something like that,” I mouth as I go outside in order to hear her better.
    “Hey Riley. Been thinkin’ bout me?”
    “Umm. Ha.”
    Her tone is awkward, as if obviously wanting to remain professional, but she doesn’t deny it. She just half- laughs that addicting laugh of hers.
    She’s just your lawyer , I remind myself. And even if she weren’t, then just like Harlow said, Flavor of the Day is all she’d ever be.
    I can’t let this chic keep knocking me off my game. I have to remember the rules that have always kept me safe. I don’t do relationships. I don’t do commitment. I do hard, fast one night stands. Wham- bam- thank- you- ma’am- and- please- lose- my- number- now types of encounters.
    “Actually, Jensen,” she continues, “I’ve been working hard on your case. But I have some questions. Can you come to my office tomorrow?”
    “What time?” I say it too quickly, but it’s too late to try to reign myself in. Damn, this girl makes me act differently than I normally do.
    “First thing in the morning?”
    “I have work. I don’t get out until six.”
    “Well that’s a little… later than I usually meet with clients,” she says. “But I must admit that your case is moving more quickly than I’m used to, and I need to keep up. So we can meet when you’re done with work. My office is in the Sunshine Building, downtown.”
    “Right.” I wouldn’t expect such a fancy pants lawyer to have an office in such an old, decrepit building, but I don’t say anything. Insults wouldn’t go well with the fuck- me vibe I’m trying to project. “Well I’ll see you then, Ms. Morrell. ”
    She gives me another small giggle before we hang up.
    When I get back to the bar, my brothers are all ears.
    “Soooo, who is she this time?” they demand.
    “That was actually my lawyer.”
    I take a swig of my Whiskey and Coke, hoping my shrug looks nonchalant enough.
    “What happened to that Dylan guy?” Ramsey asks with interest. “I thought you said he was a good lawyer?”
    “They say he is, but he was hell- bent on pleading that bullshit defense based on PTSD. Can you believe it? He wanted me to say I’m crazy. Like Mom!”
    Harlow scoffs and says, “Jensen, we all know you’re nothing like her. You and all of us have always had to clean up after her mess.”
    But Ramsey raises his eyebrows.
    “PTSD doesn’t mean someone’s crazy,” he says softly.
    “I… I know,” I say, realizing how insensitive I could have sounded. What is it with everyone continually