by Zoe Dawson
He popped out one more time, his voice so smooth and liquid. His expression was so sexy, his eyes a bit narrowed, his mouth curving up at the corner so provocatively. When he got to the ‘lady and man’ lyrics he didn’t reverse them, his eyes dancing. The air trapped in her chest, burst out into laughter and he said, “Hey, it’s not funny. That goes over big in the transport. I get standing o’s.”
She had to go or she was going to lose it. “Just what a serious deployment needs.” She had to take a deep breath as their eyes met again and the laughter faded from his face. She read people for a living, and Ashe “Kid Chaos” Wilder was more than larger than life. He was wonderful with a soothing voice and incredibly beautiful eyes—something she’d noticed more and more tonight. They were thick-lashed and filled with a fierce intensity. So very easy to get lost.
“Yeah, dropping into danger and all that needs some levity.” She felt the weight of his gaze. “It’s just so quiet in there, I can’t resist and the acoustics are almost as good as a shower. Me and Celine. We know how to break hearts. Every man in there wants to be mine.”
He gave her a wink and then started up with “I will Survive.” She closed the bathroom door and leaned against it. “I left you some clothes.”
He broke long enough to say “Thanks,” then was back to Gloria Gaynor. But the words of “The Power of Love,” kept going around in her head. Here she was, almost thirty and she had never been in love. Sure, lust a few times but never love. She’d never really had the time to invest in finding the right man. What did that even mean—the right man? She grew up in a household of men with her three brothers and her dad. She was still living at home, even with her dad being retired. She didn’t have time to do all the girly things teenagers learn from their moms. In fact, she’d had to nurse her little brother Atticus on prom night because he was sick with a fever. When he graduated from high school, he had his sights set on becoming a SEAL. He would be pretty excited right now to know that his big sister was in the same room with one.
She went into her bedroom and grabbed her own clothes. As he finished up in there, she tried to keep herself under control. She glanced at her bed and took a deep breath, almost able to picture him there looking hard and aroused, sleepy and sated, warm and compassionate. She swore softly and he said, “Who do these clothes belong to?”
She whirled to find him wet and wonderful at her doorway, a towel around that amazing waist. The white a contrast to his dark skin, the stubble on his face accentuating his strong jaw and fine mouth. “Some guy.”
He chuckled, “Oh, okay. Just a random guy, huh?” He wiggled his brows.
“No, not someone I slept with…I don’t do that. I mean…I do sleep with men, but not like that.”
He leaned his shoulder into the doorframe. Giving her a deadpan look, he said. “Now, I’m getting a show. Stand-up comedy?”
“Very funny.”
“You sleep with me, but not like that? How exactly do you go about sleeping with a guy?” His voice was pitched low.
She took a breath. “Shut up. He was the previous tenant.”
“Oh, I see.”
She wanted to go past him, but he was blocking the way. “Your turn for a shower.” He also had no intention of moving. She was an NCIS agent. She’d looked bad guys in the eyes and took them down. She could do this. He was just a man. Yeah, right. A beautiful, funny, amazing singer man.
She lifted her chin and snatched up her clothes.
“I think the jeans will fit and the T-shirt, but no way am I wearing some guy’s skivvies.”
“What?”
“I’m not wearing his underwear whether you slept with him or not.”
Exasperated, she said through clenched teeth, “I didn’t sleep with him. I don’t even know him.” She looked at the briefs in his hand. “Well, then what are you going to…” The smirk on his face said it all. She had to take a breath. “Oh.”
“Yeah, commando, babe.” He still didn’t move.
She squared her shoulders and went to the doorway. He conceded to turn sideways, but, otherwise, he didn’t give an inch. The minute she was sliding past him, plastered to him, he set his arms on either side of her. Pressing into the doorway made his biceps bulge. He smelled so good, clean and very male. She wanted to bury her nose in the crook of his neck and breathe deeply. “I heard if you go commando, you never go back.”
His close proximity was making it really difficult to concentrate on what he was saying. Her body was getting the message loud and clear, but it had nothing to do with underwear or lack of it. He was a freaking tease. Well, two could play at that game.
“Is that so? It could be hard getting that zipper up over the merchandise, so be careful there.” She straightened and deftly moved under his arm, but before she went down the hall, she flicked at the tuck of his towel, and it unraveled. She walked calmly down the hall and into the bathroom. Pressured to look back to see how he’d reacted, she peeked around the jamb. He was standing there looking amused and bested. The hard curve of his hip, the thick ridge of his abdominal V—hip-things is what she called them—as sexy as the rest of him. She wanted to trace them with her tongue.
He turned his head and grinned, looking even more boyish than she thought possible. He was incorrigible. She giggled and shut the door on his sigh.
After she was finished, she left the bathroom. She glanced in her bedroom, but the only sign he had been there was the towel draped over her door and the pair of underwear. She went looking for him, but he wasn’t in the living room, either. Then she saw his silhouette outside. She went to the patio doors and slipped through. “Hey, what are you doing out here? It’s cold.”
He was wearing an edgy motorcycle-inspired leather jacket with buckles and zippers that was also orphaned from the tenant. It made him look rebel-bad. He smiled, his hair still damp. “It’s beautiful here. Different from Tibet and Tanzania. The mountains are just as big and jagged, but the landscape is so different. The people, though, are the same. Tough, resourceful, and warm.”
“Have you found that in most places you go? You know, other than the ones that are shooting at you?”
He turned to her. “As a matter of fact, yeah. I was just in a place like that. Ended up at a cantina and got food and drinks just like we were hanging out. Local populations have really, on the whole, treated us pretty well. We are, after all, human and want the same things in life.”
She nodded. “True.” She looked back out to the mountains. “I have only been here for two weeks and most of that I’ve been working, but I agree, the people are very good and kind.” She heard the rumble, and he gave her another one of those boyish looks that made her insides melt. “Someone’s hungry.”
“Starved.” His stomach was just as noisy. “Let’s go inside, and I’ll cook us up something.”
“Cook?”
She turned and narrowed her eyes at him. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing,” he said halting and holding up his hands. “It’s just that I’ve dated a lot of women and most of them just don’t.”
He’d dated a lot of women. Why did that make her more irritated than the fact that he just lumped her in with his harem? “I’m not most women,” she groused as she went inside.
“Oh, geez, I didn’t mean to piss you off.” He caught her in the living room. “Wait,” he said as he grasped her arm. “I’m sorry. I just love the idea of a home-cooked meal. It’s been a long time since I’ve had one. I’ve got some time set aside to visit my mom, sister and nieces before my leave is up, but it made me a bit homesick there for a minute.”
“If this is a ploy to save your behind—”
One look in his eyes, and she realized that those words held no weight. “You are a charmer, aren’t you?”
“Am I?” he asked, those blue eyes of his open and sincere. “I just am finding it really difficult to keep my hands to myself, even though you asked me to. I’ve never dogged a woman in my life. I’d like to t
hink I had more sense than that, was classier than some hound dog.”
Was she being too much of a tight-ass? Worrying about her job when, in reality, she deserved a life, too? Had she grown boring and predictable over the years while she raised her brothers, dedicated to their well-being, to her father’s needs and simply out of necessity, ignoring her own? When had she ever let go? Never. That’s when.
“There’s a lot riding on this assignment, not the least, two men who lost their lives and a promotion I’ve worked very hard for.”
She was thinking distance was something she wasn’t liking too much with Ashe. For a few minutes, she took him in and God, she liked what she saw, what she felt, what this man had already offered and proved. She was grateful for his patience, for his intensity. It made her want to lower her guard with him. Made her want to believe that engaging him in a little harmless flirtation was natural and normal between two people who were attracted to each other. Except he was trouble. And there was nothing harmless about him.
“You call the shots, babe. I’ll follow orders.”
“All right,” she said, breaking away from him and lobbing two throw pillows at him. “You can help with dinner.”
With lightning reflexes, he caught the pillows and sent them back at her with a grin. “You’re going to make me work for my dinner, huh?”
She caught one, and the other one glanced off her shoulder. She didn’t have those big hands of his to catch both.
Her mouth went a little dry thinking about those strong, sure hands on her. She didn’t have to imagine how they felt; warm, pushy, and fast. Somehow her life had turned much more complicated when she wasn’t looking. And the leading man was Ashe “Kid Chaos” Wilder.
“So, boss, how do you want me to help?”
She turned toward the kitchen. “We have this little thing called a stove.”
He chuckled.
She opened the refrigerator door and hid her smile. Her life was going topsy-turvy…and here she was, grinning like a fool over a little banter with an attractive man. So, what if it had been a little while? Okay, a long while. And so what if it was a man she’d just met, a sexy and exciting man who had just burst into her ordinary world? A little professionalism at the moment would go a long way.
But then she felt him at her back, and before she could close the door and move, he was peering over her shoulder at the contents of her fridge.
“So, PB and J? I can spread the peanut butter,” he said, his breath warm on the side of her neck. “Got any chips to go with?”
She grabbed the fresh vegetables and a bottle of salad dressing from the rack in the door. “You can spread more than that,” she said, elbowing him out of the way. His amused grunt made her fight her smile.
God, he was so damn cute.
“Grab the chicken, wiseass. It’s in that white dish.”
“It’s in some kind of sauce, and it smells damn good.”
“It’s a mango and lime marinade. You’ll love it.” She set down the salad fixings on a cutting board and turned to the stove. Preheating the oven, she took the dish and set it on the stovetop. “You can make the salad.” Reaching into a cupboard, she pulled out a serving bowl, two little bowls, and a box of croutons.
She went back to the fridge and grabbed the sack of pea pods. Dumping them in the sink, she went to a cupboard, and, of course, she had to lean into him to reach the bowl she wanted. He stopped chopping and fixed his eyes on her as she pressed her upper body against his. Her skin tingled from the close contact with all that muscle. Back at the sink, she started to shuck the peas into the bowl. Out of the corner of her eye, he just stared at her for a moment, and then shook his head as if coming out of a daze, focusing back to chopping. When the oven beeped, he said, “I’ve got it.” He slipped the chicken onto the rack.
“These are generous portions for one person,” he said, putting the salad together with ease.
“It’s habit. I raised my brothers after my mother left, so that left four hungry guys to cook for if you include my six two dad.” She thrust her chin to a cupboard near one broad shoulder. “There are dishes in there, silverware in the drawer just below.”
“Set the table. That sounds familiar.”
“Why?”
“My mom always had me doing that chore. But I will admit. I use a lot of paper plates.”
“And eat a lot of pizza?”
He stacked silverware on top of the dishes, grabbed a few napkins, and moved over to the table. “Guilty.” He sent her a sideways look that was anything but innocent.
She tried not to be affected by his devilish charms, really, she did. “Men,” she said, shaking her head. Picking up the last pod, she used her thumb to knock the sweet, green peas into the bowl.
“Hey, we’re not all clueless. My teammate, Wicked, can whip up a gourmet meal. Man, he can cook.”
“Wicked?” She reached down and grabbed a pot, dumping in the peas and adding water. She set it on the stove and turned on the burner.
“Yeah, call names. When we’re in the field, it keeps us incognito and sometimes guys have the same first name, so we wouldn’t want any mix-ups going on, so call names are safer. There’s Cowboy, big Texan, used to be a real cowboy, he’s my best friend; Tank and Echo, SEAL dog handler, built like a tank and puts together these great models as a hobby; Scarecrow, Southern badass from Louisiana, his folks own a farm; Hollywood, looks like a movie star, is the biggest skirt chaser on the team; Blue is our medic and delivers profound statements like pearls before swine; and Ruckus, tough as all get out, met his fiancée during one of our missions, a reporter. He’s our LT which stands for lieutenant.”
“And you’re Kid Chaos.” She broke apart the freshly baked rolls she’d bought at the market this morning and closed them up in tinfoil and popped them into the oven to warm.
“Yeah, most people call me Kid. I’m unruly, daring, and mad. But who says batshit crazy is wrong?”
“I’m sure combat is crazy, but some form of self-preservation is a good idea.” On that note, she moved around the table in the opposite direction, setting down the salad dressing and trivets, protecting herself seemed like the prudent idea right about now. Those quicksilver eyes of his created chaos for sure.
She went back for the salad when he came up to her. He took it out of her hands and she was edging up against her limits. Bracing herself, she looked at him. Up close like this, almost as close as they’d been in her bedroom doorway when it was obvious he wanted to kiss her, it was impossible not to fall into the blue of his eyes, caught in the waves of intensity as effortlessly as breathing. He didn’t have to try hard and working those eyes and his looks to his advantage was as easy to him as walking. But there was that lethal quality, and anyone with an ounce of smarts could tell he wasn’t just a pretty face.
“That’s quite a list of co-workers. I work with two other agents Patty and Sam. Both are very good and my boss, Michael Donovan. He was a former marine, blunt and outspoken and suffers fools even less.”
“And your family?”
“My dad is a retried NCIS agent, former marine like Mike. My brothers’ names are Leo, Knox, and Atticus. Leo is in the Navy, much to my dad’s disapproval, Knox is an EMT, and Atticus is graduating from high school next year. He wants to become a Navy SEAL. Surprisingly, my dad’s okay with that.”
“No kidding. I could give him some pointers.”
“He would be ecstatic.”
They stood there for a minute. “And you raised these guys after your mom left?”
“Yes, through school, fevers, and sports—a lot of sports.”
He chuckled. “You managed to become an NCIS agent in between all that?”
“And go to college.”
“Tell me something,” he said, holding her gaze with a direct look.
Anything, she thought. I want you to know me. I so want to get to know you. To hell with logic and reasoning. A girl got this lucky only a few times in an entire lifetime. If that.<
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“Does your family and boss realize how much you’ve sacrificed? Does your dad?”
She blinked. What the hell did her family and job have to do with Ashe seducing her? “What?”
She took the bowl out of his hands, still thrown. Okay, she let herself get carried away, thinking that he was going to kiss her again. It wasn’t a stretch. Who was she kidding? Since she’d come face-to-face with him in the Going Down office, it was all she could do to not think about how badly she wanted him. She shrugged. “I’m not sure I know.”
She set the bowl down and when he hadn’t answered, she looked over at him. He folded his arms onto the counter and stared at her. With a look that sent shivers down her spine, he said, “Yeah, that doesn’t surprise me.”
No, not a stretch at all. She let her gaze slide along that stubbled jaw, down to his strong throat and those broad shoulders, the play of muscles beneath his T-shirt so tantalizing.
It was scary thinking about how much she already wanted him. How hard was it going to be when they really started working together day-in and day-out?
7
Christ on a cracker, he was still hard beneath the zipper of his borrowed jeans. They were a little snug as it was, and getting snugger by the minute.
He stood at the counter and watched her pussy-foot around the table and him. Damn, he’d wanted a little R&R, sex would even him out right about now, especially with his dick in a knot over this scrumptious woman.
But LT had given him an order and it complicated this thing between them. He might be in her bed right now if things hadn’t gone off the rails. In the shower, he’d imagined her sucking him with that soft, sexy mouth of hers, then climbing on top of him and riding his dick while he watched her caress her breasts and make herself come while he was fucking her. It wasn’t a surprise that he’d jacked all over himself.
Yet that release hadn’t been enough as evidenced by his erection straining his zipper.