by S. M. Butler
A second ticked by. Two…three…
Shane waited for it…
A wheezy snort sounded from Max’s vicinity.
And there it was.
The tiny sound unleashed an explosion of cackles that were probably heard from the ground thousands of feet below them. Even the pilots joined in, their loud chortles booming out of the cockpit and mingling with the deafening laughter of Shane’s teammates. Every single man was in hysterics, including the team’s CO, who had keeled over and was wiping tears from his eyes. On Shane’s other side, Lancelot’s entire body vibrated with mirth, shaking the row of seats.
“Holy shit, that’s fucking priceless,” Max choked out.
“Turns out she was bi,” Hunter told the group. He wasn’t laughing, but he looked as amused as his teammates. “She was at the bar because she got into a huge fight with her girlfriend—Caitlin—and she was trying to get back at her. But the second Caitlin’s name came up—”
“Came up?” Duke echoed with a snicker. “She called it out during orgasm!”
“When Caitlin’s name came up,” Hunter repeated firmly, “Mandy felt guilty as fuck, and then she started crying, and, well, you know me, I can’t stand to see a beautiful damsel in distress—”
The laughter dissolved into a new round of groans.
“—so we had a long heart-to-heart, and I convinced her to give Caitlin another shot.” Hunter’s voice went smugger than smug. “Mandy gave Caitlin a call, invited her over, and…”
“And what?” The curious demand came from none other than the CO.
Hunter’s lips twitched as he glanced at Walsh. “A gentleman doesn’t kiss and tell, sir.”
“You just did!” the burly man exclaimed in exasperation. “You might as well take us to the money shot.”
Hunter’s grin broke free. “Let’s just say there was a lot of makeup sex involved and I was smack in the middle of it.” He blinked innocently. “Did I mention Caitlin was bi, too?”
Max groaned. “Dude, you’re gonna land in a world of hurt one of these days. Seriously, next time the ex won’t be a girl. It’ll be a huge muscly monster who’ll barge in and skin you alive.”
“Ha, like you haven’t gotten into your share of trouble?” Hunter shot back. “You play it off like you’re Mr. Nice Guy, Foster, but we all know what a dirty boy you are.”
As the younger men launched into a heated debate about who was the biggest troublemaker, Shane chuckled and tuned them out. Which ended up being a bad idea, because the moment his focus strayed from the conversation around him, memories of the previous night came at him like a swarm of bees.
He’d kissed Jill.
Fuck. What had he been thinking?
If he’d just had the willpower to restrain himself, Jill would have accepted his claim—no, his decision—about not getting involved. But his damn body had betrayed him, he’d allowed lust to take the reins, and as a result, Jill had viewed it as a challenge.
The glint of determination he’d glimpsed in her eyes had left him rattled. Christ. He got the feeling she really wouldn’t let it rest.
But…maybe he was worrying for nothing. Maybe she wouldn’t look him up when she got to Virginia.
Which would be a travesty, you moron. The woman is a goddess.
He silenced the outraged voice in his head. Yes, Jill was beautiful. And interesting. And tantalizing as hell. But she deserved a man who had more to offer her, not an emotionally detached bastard who’d fuck her and then bid her goodbye.
The reminder stayed with him all the way back to Virginia, and the moment the chopper landed at the naval base Shane left the other men and headed home. Though home wasn’t exactly what his empty house in Norfolk felt like anymore, not without Alana living there.
The two of them had fixed up the house together. Painted it, decorated it, picked out all the furniture. Their relationship had been a partnership from day one, and Shane knew that’s why it had worked so well.
He missed her. Fuck, losing her had been like losing an arm—you always felt the loss. You stared down at the place where the limb was supposed to be, but it wasn’t there, and nothing you did could ever bring it back.
It happened to him every second of the day. He woke up in the morning and reached for his wife’s soft, warm body, but it wasn’t there. He searched for her curly brown-haired head when he walked into the living room, but it wasn’t there.
She wasn’t there.
Swallowing a lump of sorrow, he parked his SUV in the driveway and strode inside, where he stopped only to kick off his boots before marching to the bathroom and cranking on the shower faucet.
It felt good to be back in Norfolk, but truth be told, he was looking forward to the team’s next deployment. Once he was OCONUS, it would be easier not to think about Alana.
His empty house.
His empty life.
But he had three months stateside before deployment, which meant it was time to kick into high gear, focus on the training, and block everything else out. He couldn’t allow himself to think about Alana, not unless he wanted to say hello to rock bottom again.
Except, as he dunked his head under the spray and let the warm water slide down his body, he was startled to realize that it wasn’t his wife he was thinking about.
It was Jill.
*
A week after her encounter with Shane Heron, Jill looked around her brand-new apartment and assessed her handiwork. Since she wasn’t one to procrastinate, she’d spent her first weekend in Norfolk unpacking and getting settled. Most of her furniture would be arriving with the moving truck in a few days, but she’d gone out and bought a few things, including a new bedroom set because her old one sucked and her mattress had been too lumpy to justify shipping across the country.
She wandered around the room, admiring the four-poster bed and scarlet bedspread, and the new bookshelves that were eagerly awaiting the boxes of books that would arrive with the truck. She was tired from unpacking, but it was barely eight o’clock, and she worried that if she took a nap now, she’d end up going down for the night and waking up at the crack of dawn.
Well, eff that. Tomorrow was Sunday, and probably her last chance to sleep in. Come Monday, her life would be pure chaos. She had to interview wait staff, meet with the chefs to plan the menu, touch base with the publicist she and Drake had hired to organize their grand opening.
God, she was so excited for it, but insanely nervous, too. One bad customer experience on opening night, or worse, a negative review from a food critic, could torpedo a new establishment before it even got off the ground. Jill had seen too many restaurant owners excitedly open their doors only to go out of business a few short months later. Well, no way would she allow that to happen to her place. She planned on working her ass off to make Hampton Grill a huge success.
She flopped down on the edge of the bed, deciding against taking a nap, but that didn’t leave her with many other entertainment options. Her Internet wasn’t hooked up yet, she didn’t own a TV, and the only books on her e-reader were ones she’d already read. Which meant she could either stare at the ceiling for the rest of the night, or go out and explore the city.
Or…there was a third option. She could always give Shane a call.
She’d grabbed his number off Carson before she’d left San Diego, and it was already programmed into her phone, practically begging to be dialed.
He said he wasn’t interested.
The pessimist inside her was quick to voice the reminder, but her optimistic side rapidly swept in with a counter argument—he kissed you.
Oh, he’d kissed her, all right. She still remembered how firm his lips had been, the way his tongue had explored her mouth with the kind of skill and confidence that only a man with a lot of kissing experience could possess. She remembered every last detail about him. Those piercing eyes, dark blue with flecks of silver around the pupils. His reluctant smiles. His husky voice.
Before she knew it, Jill was di
aling his number. Because really, what was the harm in calling? She’d told him last week that she planned on making another move, and for the sake of that explosive kiss, she had to give it at least one more shot. If Shane rejected her again, then she’d just go and find someone who actually wanted to spend time with her.
Jill’s heart pounded as she waited for Shane to answer. Jeez. She was twenty-nine years old—she shouldn’t be this excited at the prospect of talking to a guy.
But the excitement faded into disappointment when an unfamiliar voice slid into her ear.
“Shane’s phone.”
She heard other voices in the background. Loud ones, both male and female, chattering over what sounded like a rendition of “Sweet Home Alabama”. The raucous laughter and clinking of glasses told her that Shane—or rather, Shane’s phone—was at a bar.
“Hi.” She cleared her throat awkwardly. “Is Shane around?”
“Naah, he’s a little busy at the moment,” came the cheerful reply. “Who’s this?”
She hesitated. “Jill.”
“Jill.” A seductive male chuckle rippled over the line. “You sound hot, Jill. Are you?”
She smiled despite herself. Most likely she was talking to one of Shane’s military buddies, because all the military men she knew from San Diego were also notorious flirts.
“I’m all right, I guess,” she answered modestly. “A solid seven, I’d say.”
“Bull. Your voice pins you down at a nine. Maybe nine and a half.”
“Who exactly am I talking to?” Jill asked.
“Duke. I’m Senior’s best pal.”
She suppressed a laugh. “Okay, best pal. Well, can you ask Shane to call me back?”
“Why bother with that? Why don’t you just come here and join us?”
“Where’s here?” she said warily.
“Andy’s. It’s an awesome little dive bar on Shore Drive. We got some weekend’s leave so we’re spending the time off wisely.” He chuckled again. “You coming or what?”
Reluctance washed over her. She didn’t feel comfortable showing up unless the invitation came from Shane himself. “I don’t want to intrude,” she hedged. “Can you put Shane on the line? Or at least ask him if it’s cool with him?”
An exaggerated sigh met her ears. “He’s in the middle of kicking Foster’s ass on the pool table right now. I don’t want to drag him away from the game. One sec, sweetness. Let me ask him.”
A rustling sound, and then Duke’s voice grew muffled, as if he were covering the mouthpiece. Jill heard him call out to someone, but she couldn’t make out the words. She didn’t hear the response, either, but a second later Duke was back on the line.
“He says the more the merrier.”
“Really?” she said dubiously.
“Yep. So get your cute ass over here, baby doll.”
“I—”
“See you soon.”
He’d hung up.
Jill bit her lip as indecision flashed through her. She really wished she’d spoken to Shane herself, but after a beat, she opened the Internet browser on her phone and typed the name of the bar into Google Maps. It popped up instantly, along with several other bars and restaurants dotting the same street. Okay. Well. She supposed she could always go to one of those other places if Shane ended up being less than hospitable.
Decision made, she headed to the bathroom for a quick shower, then threw on a pair of jeans, a V-neck sweater and black leather boots. She didn’t bother with a coat, because a quick stop on the balcony revealed that it wasn’t even cold out, which was odd considering it was mid-October. But she sure as hell wasn’t complaining. She still wasn’t thrilled about abandoning her idyllic California climate for a place that had honest-to-God winter.
Twenty minutes later, Jill slid out of the taxi that dropped her off at the bar. The cabbie had explained that Andy’s was close to both the army and naval bases, so Jill wasn’t surprised to find a slew of military men standing out front. The cropped haircuts and ripped bodies were a dead giveaway.
Several heads swung her way as she approached the door, more than one admiring look aimed in her direction. She was used to the attention, though. She was a tall woman at five-nine, and when you threw her bright red hair into the mix, it was impossible for her to keep a low profile.
The interior of the bar was much larger than it appeared on the exterior. Crammed with tables, booths and bodies, the dimly lit room even had enough space to house a small stage in the corner of the room. At the moment, the only music in the place was the classic rock pounding from the speakers, but a few men carrying instruments wandered around the stage as if getting ready for a set.
Jill glanced around, but she didn’t spot Shane in the crowd. There were too many people, and more than half of them were males in camo pants and T-shirts, creating a blurry sea of khaki and olive green.
She strode up to the long bar counter and squeezed in between a burly man and two giggling women, and a pretty bartender greeted Jill with a frazzled smile, her hand busy pouring a beer from the tap.
“What can I get you?” the blonde asked.
“A vodka cranberry, please.” She did another scan of the room before turning back to the bartender. “By any chance do you know a man named Shane Heron? He should be here tonight.”
The other woman donned a blank look. “Sorry, the name doesn’t ring a bell.”
“He’s a—navy man.” She’d been about to say SEAL, but she knew from her San Diego friends that most SEALs didn’t like to advertise that.
“Look around, hon,” the blonde said with a laugh. “Ninety percent of the men here are navy.”
A moment later, a vodka cranberry slid in front of Jill, who quickly paid the bartender and then picked up her glass and conducted another frustrating examination of the crowd. When she struck out again, she tried a different name. “What about Duke? Do you know him?”
It was like a switch had been flicked. The bartender’s easygoing smile swiftly transformed into a dark glower. “Yeah, I know Duke.” Her lips tightened. “He’s over there.”
Jill’s gaze followed the blonde’s outstretched arm toward a table in the back. “Thanks,” she said, taking a step away.
“Hey,” the bartender interjected.
She looked back quizzically.
“Tell Duke I’m freezing his tab until he pays the outstanding balance.” The woman made a derisive noise. “Maybe if he hears it from one of his groupies he’ll actually pay up.”
“Oh, I’m not his—”
But the blonde had already moved down the counter to greet another customer.
Shrugging, Jill threaded her way through the jam-packed room toward the back wall. When she approached the table, she encountered not one, not two, but five incredibly handsome men. A couple of very attractive women were also at the table—a brunette sitting in the lap of the sandy-haired guy nuzzling her neck, and a blonde who was giggling at something one of the other men had just said.
Shane was not among them.
Jill was about to creep away when her presence was detected.
“Where you running off to, Red?”
The teasing question came from a twenty-something man with cropped dark hair and twinkling blue eyes, whose face brightened with admiration as he looked her up and down.
“I’m looking for someone,” she told him. “Shane Heron?”
“Oh shit. Are you Jill?”
She suddenly recognized his voice, deep and husky, with the faintest of Southern drawls. “Yup,” she answered.
“I’m Duke—we spoke on the phone. And baby doll? You think you’re a seven? Are you insane?” Duke looked at his friends in disbelief. “She thinks she’s a seven.”
The next thing she knew, every head swiveled in her direction, and the man with the brunette in his lap let out a delighted laugh. “No way. You’re a ten. Easy.”
His date piped up in agreement. “You’re definitely a ten.” A pause. “Is that your natura
l hair color?”
Jill nodded.
“Shit. I think that makes you an eleven,” the girl said with a genuine smile.
The dark-haired man next to Duke joined the conversation. “I’m Hunter. Why don’t you have a seat, honey?”
“Um…”
Duke grinned as if reading her mind. “Don’t worry, Senior just went to the john. He’ll be back any second. And I’m sure he’ll be happy to see you.”
Something about his tone raised Jill’s guard. “You told him I was coming, right?”
“No,” a gruff voice said from behind her. “He didn’t.”
Chapter Four
‡
It took a serious amount of effort for Shane to keep his jaw off the floor. Jill was the last person he’d expected to see tonight, and from the guilty look on Duke Donovan’s face, it was easy to figure out why she’d come.
“Hey, Senior, I forgot to tell you,” Duke blurted out. “Your phone rang when you were playing pool with LT.”
Shane was torn between laughing and slugging the younger man. “And you decided to pick it up? What, you’re my secretary now?”
“I didn’t think you’d mind,” Duke lamented. “Besides, you never introduce us to your girlfriends. I figured if we finally wanted to meet one, I’d have to be proactive and invite her. Because God knows you won’t.”
“She’s not my girlfriend,” he said tersely.
From the corner of his eye, he saw Jill stiffen, but she didn’t contradict him. “He’s right,” she confirmed, equally brusque. “I’m not his girlfriend.”
Duke shifted awkwardly in his chair. “Oh. My bad.” After a beat, he brightened and focused on Jill. “Well, then you can hang out with me, Red.” He patted the empty seat beside him.
It was Shane’s turn to stiffen. Oh hell no. He wasn’t letting Donovan and his manwhore hands anywhere near Jill.
Without looking at Duke, Jill placed her glass on the table and turned to Shane. “Can we talk alone for a minute?”
He gave a brisk nod, then guided her away from the boys and headed for the quietest area in the bar, the corridor leading to the restrooms. Jill was staring straight ahead, which gave him ample opportunity to check her out, and Christ, she was even sexier than he remembered. Her long, lithe body was all curves, and her long red hair shone beneath the yellow glow of the light fixtures. So did her eyes, that incredible shade of jungle-green that had hypnotized him back in San Diego.