Regina had teased him about it, and he shrugged it off, explaining he hadn’t always been this way. Being a Marine had a lot to do with it, and then becoming a drill instructor had made him even worse. Only Regina was the one using the word worse. He’d used the phrase “helped me become even better organized, not just at work but in my personal life.”

This was the first time she’d been left alone in his place all week. Trying not to be nosey but incredibly curious, she peeked into his closet. Already she’d walked around his front room, looking through his neat but sparsely decorated shelves a little closer than she had all week. Most of the week she’d had glimpses of his well-organized closet from when she’d seen him go in and fetch something, but he’d always quickly closed the door.

She took in his clothes first. They were perfectly hung and separated by color with his uniforms off to one side. Many were still in their plastic coverings from the cleaners, and his shoes were neatly lined on the floor. The see-through totes in the above shelves were all the exact same size and stacked just so. Something in one of the totes caught her eye. It looked too much like a pair of handcuffs.

Tilting her head, she tried to make out the other things in the tote, but it was hard to tell from where she was standing. She saw what looked like rope and some kind of harness with buckles.

Glancing back at the open bedroom door, she wondered if she dared take it down and peek in. Indulging her curiosity by being nosey and looking into his closet was one thing. Digging into his drawers or even totes was pushing it. She decided she wouldn’t go there but did continue to look through his clothes. She’d seen him in uniform many times and seen his laid-back jeans and T-shirt look on the weekend and evenings, but the only time she’d been witness to him all dressed up was the night at Gaslamp. Yet he had many civilian dress shirts hanging in his closet. Really nice ones too. For someone who kept to himself and made no attachments, he had an awful lot of socializing clothes.

She moved one particular shirt aside because the color, a deep royal blue, was eye catching, and she could only imagine how incredible the blue in his eyes would stand out when he wore this. Then her hand hit something hard, hanging against the wall. It caught her attention because it was long cold and slender like a weapon maybe? But it wasn’t. It was a metal stick? She spread the shirts apart to get a better look, and her jaw dropped. There wasn’t one stick but two, only they weren’t sticks. They were riding crops, and hanging right next them on its own individual hook as well was a long black wooden paddle with a red heart painted in the middle.

Her head jerked up to the tote on top. Those were handcuffs. Holy crap! Was he really into this stuff? As much fun as she’d had in college, there had been several things she’d never tried. This was one of them. As nervous as it made her, there was a slow bubbling inside her. She’d never trusted anyone to tie her up, and she hated to admit it, but her sexual life with Ryan while sweet, safe, and very loving had also been very vanilla. It never even crossed her mind to ask him to do anything kinky to her.

Pushing away painful thoughts of Ryan, she wondered instead if Brandon would be bringing this up once she was ready and how he’d bring it up. Would he just spring it on her? The way he’d closed his closet so quickly all week made her wonder if he’d bring it up at all or if that was another of the few topics he seemed to skirt and she wouldn’t get to explore.

Forcing herself to stop thinking about it, she moved into his kitchen. She’d been in there for a few minutes, looking through the neatly lined cans of food in his small pantry and noticing how orderly everything his fridge was. He must really think her a slob. Since she’d only been here a few weeks, she hadn’t bothered to clean out her fridge even once yet. She didn’t have a whole lot in it, but it definitely didn’t look as if it could pass the white glove test as Brandon’s did.

She heard the front door open and smiled. He’d been gone just over an hour, and she was already excited to see him again. Only he didn’t come into the kitchen, so she walked out to meet him. He’d dropped off some bags and a box of food on the table, but he was gone. Worried that somehow he’d gotten wind of what she’d been doing while he was gone, she actually glanced around, expecting to see cameras she’d missed all week, but there were none. What if he’d had some kind of sensor on his closet door that went off, alerting him she’d been snooping? There was a phone app for just about everything these days, and, of course, that would be just her luck.

She walked slowly into the bedroom and froze when she saw him standing in front of his open closet, shirtless. He turned to her, his jeans hanging just off his waist and frowned. Did he know? Would he be kicking her out now?

Chapter Fifteen

Regina held her breath, her eyes on Brandon’s clenching fist. He turned to her with a frown. “Damn bird shit on my shirt outside the drugstore.” He pulled a shirt out from the closet. “I wanted to soak it first thing.” He motioned toward the bathroom with his chin. “Since it’s white, I don’t want it to stain.”

Relieved, but now completely distracted by his bare chest and shoulders, she stared at them with a sinful grin. This entire week his shirtless chest managed to elude her, despite all the showers he’d taken and times he’d changed. “Wait,” she said, before he could put his shirt back on. Her eyes dropped to the lower right side of his abdominal muscles. “Can I . . .?”

She pointed at the string of words tattooed as she got closer. For a moment, she was almost afraid to finish her question. What if the words were for another girl? Someone in his past. The girl she reminded him of maybe? He’d gladly and proudly explained all his other tattoos. The ones on his arms were all tributes to the Marines. He’d even lifted his sleeve a couple of the times to show her a few a little higher on his arm she might’ve missed, but he hadn’t mentioned this one. If they ever made love, could she stand staring at something so profound he felt for someone else he decided to have it tattooed on his body forever?