Out of Uniform Box Set: Books 4-6 plus 2 Bonus Novellas
Page 19
But still.
She was the most graceful woman he’d ever met. She even made the act of putting on a bra and panties look like a sensual dance. Another disappointed burst went off in his chest. He didn’t want her to go. He never wanted her to go.
He just didn’t fucking know how to ask her to stay.
If he hadn’t blown it that evening at the pizza place, things wouldn’t have had to change. They’d still be doing the whole morning-sex-and-breakfast thing instead of these super-hurried quickies. Still be lying tangled in each other’s arms after recovering from their orgasms instead of Miranda jumping out of bed to find her clothes.
Her eagerness to hurry off after he’d made her come brought a pang of unhappiness. He hated this new wham-bam-thank-you-Seth mentality of hers. He felt…used.
Aw, poor baby Seth bitching about how a woman wants no-strings sex from him.
“So this is really happening,” he said, feeling edgy as hell and unable to hide it.
Miranda pulled her tank top over her head. “What is?”
“You’re leaving.”
She shot him a duh look. “Yes, because I have to go to work.”
“Not for another hour.”
“I told you, I want to grab something to eat before I head over to the club.”
“And I offered to cook you dinner here.”
“And I said I appreciated it, but it’s not part of the deal.” She rolled her eyes. “Should we recap the conversation again, or is it going to stick this time?”
Swallowing the strange lump of misery that rose in his throat, Seth hopped off the bed and slipped into his boxers. “No, it’s fine. I forgot that dinner isn’t part of the, you know, deal.” He put on pants and a T-shirt. “Come on, I’ll walk you out.”
Her voice stopped him before he could leave the room. “Seth.”
Turning around, he met her eyes. “Yeah.”
With a faint smile, she eliminated the distance between them and looped her arms around his neck. Her expression softened as she stood on her tiptoes and kissed him. “I had fun tonight.”
“Did you?” he murmured.
She brushed her sexy lips over his in another fleeting kiss. “I did.” Her lips peppered kisses down the column of his neck. “I had a lot of fun.”
“I’m glad.” He shivered when she nibbled his earlobe, and his hands slid down to cup her ass.
“So please stop treating the word deal like it’s an expletive.” She skimmed her fingertips over his bottom lip. “This is a good deal. We’re making each other come almost every other night. No promises, no hassles, just a lot of awesome sex. How are you unsatisfied?”
“I’m not. I am satisfied.” He forced a nonchalant shrug. “No promises, no hassles. That’s exactly how I like it, babe.”
To his displeasure, she nodded in agreement. “Me too. Well, in this case at least.” She planted a quick kiss on his cheek. “I’ve gotta go.”
Seth walked her to the front door, doing his best not to dwell on that last zinger she’d left him with. Well, in this case at least. What did that mean? Did she mean that if she were fucking some other man, she would want the promises? So it was just his promises she wasn’t interested in?
So many conflicting emotions raged in his gut that he didn’t even know which to focus on.
“Miranda, wait, before you go.” Dylan suddenly appeared in the hallway, his hair damp from the shower, a white towel draped around his trim hips.
“What’s up?” she asked as she slipped into her sneakers.
“Are the twins in school tomorrow?”
“Yes, until three. Why?”
Dylan’s expression turned sheepish. “What do you think about me hanging out with them tomorrow? Maybe going out for ice cream or something? I could pick them up from kindergarten if you want.”
Miranda looked incredibly confused by the request, and when she glanced at Seth, he gave her a fucked-if-I-know look. He had no idea what to make of it either. He studied his roommate’s face for signs of concussion or intoxication, and found none. But he couldn’t rule it out, either.
“You want to take my kids out for ice cream?” Miranda finally said.
“Yeah, if it’s cool with you.”
“Um. Well. Why?”
“What can I say? I miss the little dudes,” Dylan said, offering the boyish smile that Seth had seen him use to seduce countless of women.
Sure enough, some of Miranda’s hesitation melted in the face of that smile. “You miss my kids?” she echoed.
Dylan nodded. “I had a lot of fun with them when you guys stayed here. And I saw on the news today that the weather is supposed to be beautiful tomorrow, so I thought, hey, maybe the twins would enjoy hanging out.”
Seth didn’t bother masking his mistrust. He had no idea what his roommate was up to, but this was fucking strange. In fact, lately strange seemed to be the norm with Dylan. Dude was bitchier than usual, hardly ever left the house, and now he wanted to spend an afternoon with a couple of six-year-olds he wasn’t even related to?
If Seth didn’t have complete confidence that Dylan would never harm a hair on a child’s head, he might’ve given Miranda a slight shake of the head, as in, Say no. Now. But Seth trusted Dylan with his life. Whatever this was about, he knew it wouldn’t result in Miranda’s kids getting hurt.
“Well, I guess that would be okay,” Miranda said, still looking baffled. “I can call the school tomorrow and let them know you’ll be picking them up instead of me. Unless you want me to come along…?” She let the question hang.
Dylan flashed his pearly whites again. “Up to you, honey. I figured you’d enjoy having the afternoon off to go shopping or take a nap or do whatever. You know, treat yourself. But if you don’t trust me with your children’s safety, I understand.”
Miranda snorted. “My children are probably safer with you than they are with me. You’re a SEAL, for Pete’s sake. And look at you.”
Seth did not enjoy the way her eyes roamed the broad expanse of Dylan’s smooth chest. He glared at his roommate in an unspoken order to go put on a fucking shirt—and pants, damn it—but the guy remained completely unfazed.
“What time are they done school?” Dylan asked.
“Three. I’ll text you the address. You’ll have to show your ID to the school secretary and sign the twins out. It’s the school policy when someone other than a parent picks up a child.”
“No problem. Can’t wait to see them.”
“They’ll be thrilled to see you too,” Miranda said with a warm smile.
Seth found himself bristling again. If Dylan’s plan had been to come out here and present himself as the sweetest, most thoughtful dude on the planet while reducing Seth to antichild, pond-scum level in Miranda’s eyes, then he’d totally succeeded.
“And if you decide not to join us, I’m sure Masterson here would appreciate the company,” Dylan said, proving that he always had a fellow soldier’s back. “Poor Seth gets really lonely sometimes.”
Oh Jesus. Why did Dylan make it so difficult to think bad thoughts about him?
Asshole.
“Oh no. I might have to come over and hold his hand for a bit, then.” Miranda’s expression made it clear that she’d be holding a lot more than his hand.
She gave Seth a kiss on the cheek and then she was gone, leaving him free to interrogate his roommate.
“You want to hang out with her kids?”
“Yeah. What’s wrong with that? Those little dudes are tons of fun.”
Seth crossed his arms. “Should I be worried about websites putting a little green dot over our house to indicate there’s a sexual predator living here?” he cracked.
“Fuck you.”
“Says the man who just arranged a date with two children while wearing a towel. Seriously, what the hell was that about?”
After a beat, Dylan released a breath. “I have an idea for the birthday present, all right?”
“No clue what you’re t
alking about, man.”
“Miranda’s birthday is on Saturday.”
“It is?”
His roommate raised his eyebrows. “Do you know anything about the woman you’re screwing, bro?”
Now it was his turn to say, “Fuck you.” He trailed after Dylan, whose bare feet slapped the hardwood floor on the way to the master bedroom.
Dylan dropped the towel the moment he entered his bedroom, but Seth was too unsettled by this entire discussion to pay much attention to his roommate’s bare ass.
“Anyway, remember when they were crashing here after the flood and the kids kept bursting into tears every other second?”
“Yeah,” he said warily.
“Well, turns out they weren’t just crying for the hell of it. They were working on a birthday present for Miranda—they drew all these pictures for her, and they were organizing them into a book. I think their teacher was supposed to help them bind it.”
Seth’s brows dipped in a frown. “How do you know all this?”
“They told me.” Dylan put on a pair of sweatpants and strode to his closet to find a shirt.
“They told you,” Seth echoed.
“Yep. Those kids love me, bro. Maybe because, unlike you, I don’t treat them like I’d rather have my back waxed than spend time with them.” A shrug. “They were pretty devastated, especially Jason. He was hiding the pictures under his bed and everything got destroyed in the flood.”
“So you’re taking them out for ice cream to cheer them up?”
“No. See, that’s the thing.” Dylan was practically beaming now. “I was telling Jen about what a bummer it was that the present got ruined, and she came up with an idea. Sophie and Jason won’t have time to redo all the drawings, but Jen offered to take their picture. You’ve seen her photographs, right? They’re fucking amazing. She said she’ll take a whole bunch of photos of the kids and they could use them to make a new book. Good idea, right?”
Seth stared at his buddy.
“What?” Dylan said defensively.
“You like those kids so much that you actually spent time thinking about the birthday present they were making for their mother?” he said in a dull voice.
“So? What’s wrong with that? I happen to be a nice guy.”
Translation: I’m not an asshole like you are.
Seth raked a hand through his hair, wishing he could make heads or tails of the eddy of emotion that swirled inside his chest. Shit, what was happening to him? Why did it matter whether Dylan liked Miranda’s kids? Why should he care that Sophie and Jason had confided in his roommate—and not him—about their stupid picture book? Whatever. Let Dylan spend tomorrow afternoon with the rugrats. That just meant Seth got more time with their mother.
An entire afternoon with Miranda. Just him and Miranda.
Yeah. Miranda. Whose birthday is on Saturday.
His stomach clenched. Why hadn’t she told him when her birthday was?
Why hadn’t he asked?
Holy shit. If one more why so much as entered his brain, he was going to punch something.
Curling his hands into fists, he left his roommate to get dressed and marched back to his bedroom.
His sheets still smelled like Miranda. His pillow still bore the indentation of her head. And his heart? Well, his heart was having a very tough time remembering that it played no part in their deal.
* * *
“Oh my gosh, they are just the cutest,” Jen Scott declared. She peered at the screen of her camera and giggled. “Look at this one. Sophie looks adorable.”
Dylan leaned in for a peek. “Adorable indeed.”
“I love how she kept insisting on changing her hairstyle at each location.” Jen started clicking through the insane amount of photos she’d snapped today. “Pigtails, pigtails…ponytail…hair loose…oh wait, here’s my favorite, the ballerina bun.”
The two of them were sitting side by side on Jen’s couch, trying to pick which shots to send for printing. At Jen’s suggestion, the twins had decided to create a calendar for their mom, each month featuring a different picture of them. Dylan and Jen were footing the cost, unbeknownst to the twins, who just assumed professional calendars got made for free. But the kids were so excited about the project that Dylan was willing to pay for the whole damn thing if need be.
“This was a really fun day,” Jen said happily. “Being around such cuteness kinda makes you want to have kids of your own, doesn’t it?”
“A little,” he admitted. “But first I need a woman, don’t you think?”
Jen smiled, and his breath actually caught. She was so beautiful that sometimes it hurt to look at her. Vivid blue eyes, tousled waves of golden hair, centerfold body—every inch of her was pure perfection, making Cash McCoy one very lucky man.
“You and Cash talking about having kids yet?” he asked, sipping his iced tea.
“Hardly. It’s only been six months. I think the next step is living together. Then marriage. Then kids. So talk to me in a couple of years.”
“You guys are good, though? Still madly in love?”
“Of course.” Her blue eyes softened. “Cash is amazing. I’ve never known anyone like him.”
“And the new job’s going well?” Jen worked as a freelance photographer for several magazines, one of which happened to be very prestigious.
“You know, the fact that you have to ask me all these questions just proves that we haven’t hung out nearly enough these past couple of months.” Her cupid’s-bow mouth puckered unhappily. “What’s going on with you, Dylan? Are you pissed at me or something?”
“What? Of course not.”
“Are you pissed at Cash?”
He took the camera from her hand and gently set it on the table, then slung an arm over her shoulder. “I’m not angry with you, honey. Or Cash. Or anyone, for that matter.”
Except maybe himself, but she didn’t need to know that.
“Then what’s wrong?” Her features grew pained. “You hardly ever hang out with us anymore, and Matt says you haven’t been responding to his texts.”
Damn it. Sometimes it sucked that Cash and O’Connor lived together. Those two gossiped more than the trio of white-haired ladies Dylan flirted with at Starbucks every morning.
“I just haven’t felt like going out,” he said with a shrug. “I’ve been staying at home lately, working out, watching TV, shooting the shit with Seth. You know, just maxin’ and relaxin’, chillin’ like a villain.”
Jen looked like she was torn between laughing and groaning. She settled on the former, but the amusement on her face faded fast. “I call bullshit, by the way.”
He arched a brow. “On which part?”
“The you-haven’t-felt-like-going-out part. What are you avoiding? Or should I say, who are you avoiding?”
Strands of discomfort climbed up his spine.
“Ha! So you are avoiding someone. I swear, Dylan, if you don’t confide in me, I’ll sic Cash on you. Actually, no, I’ll sic every single one of your teammates on you, my brother included. You know, your lieutenant.”
He sighed. “We both know if I confide in you, it’s the same as confiding in Cash. Anyway, I don’t want to talk about it.”
She looked hurt. “You think I’ll go running to Cash with whatever you tell me? You don’t trust me?”
Another sigh shuddered out. “I trust you, Jen. Okay? I just don’t feel like talking.”
“Why not? You like to talk. That’s the best thing about you—how open and honest you are about what you’re feeling. You’re not one of those men who bottles everything up and pretends the hurt and pain and all that crap doesn’t exist.”
“Maybe I am one of those men,” he shot back.
“No, you’re not. And this? You getting all flustered and bitchy? Clearly proves something is wrong. So what is it?”
“Nothing is wrong,” he ground out.
“Bull. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“Qui
t lying and tell me what’s wrong.”
“Jen, I swear to God…”
“What’s wrong, Dylan?”
“I want to fuck Aidan Rhodes!”
The words flew out before he could stop them, stunning both himself and Jen into silence. Her mouth fell open, blue eyes widening.
As heat burned his cheeks, he averted his eyes, wishing he’d kept his mouth shut.
“Wow. Okay, so…wow.” Jen shook her head once, twice, three times, as if trying to clear it of cobwebs. “You want to…um, have sex…with Aidan.”
“Yes.” Pure misery shot through him, and yet with it came a feeling of liberation. This was the first time he’d said it out loud.
“Does he…want to have sex with you?”
I want the same damn thing.
Dylan swallowed. “Yeah. Yeah, I think so.”
Jen went quiet again. Then she shrugged. “So have sex with him.”
“Are you kidding?”
“No. Are you?” She frowned. “Wait, do you not want to sleep with Aidan? Are you punking me?”
“I’m not punking you,” he said in sheer aggravation. “But I’m frickin’ confused—you think I should have, um, have…”
“Sex,” she filled in, her voice dry.
“Sex…with Aidan.”
“You just said you wanted to. And if he wants the same thing, then why not go for it?”
“Because…because it’s another man,” he burst out. “I’d be having sex with another man, Jen.”
A laugh popped out of her mouth. “Are you kidding me? Dylan, the very first night I met you, you gave Cash a blowjob.” Her voice softened. “And I don’t think it was your first time, either. Was it?”
He slowly shook his head.
“So clearly you have no problem fooling around with another man.”
“No, but…”
“But what?”
“Every time I’ve been with…” he felt himself blushing again, “…with another guy, there’s always been a girl there too. It’s never one-on-one.”
“And one-on-one is bad?”
“I don’t know. Maybe.” He shrugged helplessly.