“And there’s blue bruises and green ones and—”
“Put your mom on the phone!” he ordered.
“I can’t. She’s sleeping.”
Sleeping…or unconscious? Oh shit. An icy rush of fear made him feel even more light-headed.
Should he call 911? Sophie’s tone was too damn cheerful—he couldn’t imagine her sounding like that if Miranda was passed out at the bottom of the stairs, every limb in her body broken.
But he couldn’t ignore it either.
“I’m on my way,” he told Miranda’s daughter. “I want you to—”
She hung up.
“Damn it!” he roared.
In the hallway, he collided with Dylan, who took one look at his face and said, “What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know.” The floor beneath his feet dipped and he suddenly felt helpless. “Sophie called. Miranda may or may not have fallen. She might be hurt or she might be sleeping or who the fuck knows. I need to get over there right now.”
He bounded into the kitchen to look for his keys.
“There’s no way in hell I’m letting you get behind the wheel of a car,” Dylan spoke up from the doorway.
Frustration seized his throat. “Don’t even think about stopping me.”
His roommate sauntered over and snatched the keys from his hands. “I wouldn’t dream of it. But I’m driving.”
* * *
Miranda opened the door to find Seth and Dylan standing there. And while Dylan looked handsome in a polo shirt and khaki cargo pants, Seth looked a little worse for wear. His hair was sticking up in all directions and his wifebeater was wrinkled. Not to mention his unshaven face and wild gray eyes.
And yet her heart still skipped a beat at the sight of him.
“Hey, guys,” she said warily. “What’s going—”
She didn’t have time to finish because Seth pulled her into his arms and hugged her so tightly she couldn’t draw a breath. Gasping for air, she batted at his powerful shoulders and tried to wiggle away.
He instantly released her, relief radiating from his body. “Thank God. I thought…”
She sucked some oxygen into her lungs before frowning at him. “You thought what?”
“And that’s my cue to leave,” Dylan announced. “I’m taking the Jeep, bro.”
Seth glanced at his friend. “But—”
“You can call a cab to take you home. Though I don’t imagine you’ll be coming home tonight. The groveling might take all night.”
Her frown deepened when she noticed the twinkle in Dylan’s eyes. What the hell was he talking about?
His green-eyed gaze focused on her. “I’m glad to see you’re not bruised and/or unconscious. Sorry to ring the doorbell and run, but I’ve got somewhere to be, and trust me, it’s been a long time coming.”
Miranda had never been more confused in her entire life. She watched Dylan hurry off with a spring to his step, then stared at Seth, who seemed to be…swaying?
“Are you drunk?”
“A little,” he said sheepishly.
“And you decided to come over because…?” Maybe her tone was sharper than necessary, but this man had dumped her, for Pete’s sake. And now he was on her doorstep, drunk?
“Because Sophie called and said you fell.”
Miranda’s jaw dropped. “What?”
Without waiting for an answer, she scurried inside and yelled for her daughter, who didn’t come running.
She marched into the living room, where she found both her kids sitting on the couch, wearing identical sheepish expressions.
She addressed her daughter first. “You used my phone to call Seth?”
Sophie at least had the courtesy to look guilty. “Yes.”
She turned to Jason. “And you were in on this?”
That got her another guilty yes.
“Ah, don’t be mad at them.”
She spun around to see Seth leaning against the doorframe. After a second, he stumbled into the room and collapsed on the armchair as if he could no longer support his own weight.
Lord, how much had he had to drink?
“They were just trying to get us back together.” Seth glanced at the twins. “Weren’t you?”
Sophie nodded.
Miranda released a sigh and joined them on the couch. “It doesn’t matter what your intentions were. You can’t do things like this, guys. You can’t take Mommy’s phone and call someone and tell them there’s been an emergency. Remember the story I told you about the boy who cried wolf? Remember what happened to the boy?” She shook her head. “I’m very disappointed in you two.”
Jason looked stricken. “I’m sorry, Mom. But we did it ’cause you were wrong.”
She raised her eyebrows. “Excuse me?”
“You were wrong,” Sophie piped up.
“Because it’s four,” Jason explained.
She was utterly lost. “What are you talking about?”
“The magic number isn’t three. It’s four.” Jason’s expression conveyed impatience. “You and me and Sophie and Sef.”
He pointed at Seth, as if Miranda needed the visual reference.
Her heart jammed in her throat. She drew in a breath, battling the rising wave of sorrow. “Guys, I already told you, Seth is—”
“An idiot,” Seth finished.
Her head swiveled in his direction.
“An idiot,” he repeated. “I should’ve never walked out on you. I was just so shaken up after what happened at the carnival and—”
Sophie jumped off the couch and threw herself into his lap. “It was my fault! I shouldna run away and now you don’t wanna be with us anymore.”
His muscular arms wrapped around the distraught girl, and Miranda’s heart cracked in two as she watched him stroke her daughter’s hair.
“You shouldn’t have run away,” he agreed. His eyes met Miranda’s over Sophie’s head. “But I shouldn’t have run away either.”
She forced herself to ignore the little pang of hope. It didn’t matter what he said. He’d left. He’d ended it. He’d proven that she couldn’t count on him.
“Guys, would you mind if I spoke to your mother alone?” Seth asked gruffly.
Sophie slid off his lap and hurried over to her brother, practically dragging him away from the couch. “C’mon, Jase.”
Miranda had to smile as she watched them run off, but the smile faded when Seth rose from the armchair and advanced on her.
“I screwed up,” he said in a voice thick with remorse. “I let my fears drive me away. But I’m not afraid anymore.”
She refused to meet his eyes. “Really.”
“I spoke to my mom today.”
“Yeah, about what?” She kept her voice casual.
“About Adam.” He shrugged. “And we both realized something.”
Curiosity had her turning her head. She needed to see his expression, and what she found surprised her. He looked…peaceful.
“What did you realize?”
“That we’d suffered enough. Adam’s gone. Mistakes were made, by me, by my mom, but there’s really only one person to blame in the end—and that’s the person who took Adam’s life.” Seth swallowed. “But all that isn’t important right now. You’re what’s important. I love you, Miranda, and I’m sorry for freaking out last night.”
“You left.” She bit the inside of her cheek. “The only thing I’ve ever wanted is someone who will be there for me. Someone I could count on. And you left.”
“I screwed up,” he said again. “But I promise you, I will never leave again. You can count on me to be there for you.”
“Why should I believe you?” she whispered.
“Because you love me. Because you have faith in me. Because you can look in my eyes and see that I mean every word I’m saying.”
There was no mistaking the sincerity glimmering in those silver-gray depths. She felt her resolve crumbling with his every word, and when he leaned in to brush his lips over h
ers, she was a goner. Seth’s lips were warm and firm. He tasted like alcohol, but when she pulled back to search his face, he looked stone-cold sober.
“I love you.” His husky voice tickled her senses. “Please give us another chance.”
“Okay,” she murmured.
“Okay?”
She nodded.
In the blink of an eye, he was kissing her again, so deeply that her lungs screamed for oxygen and her brain became foggy. By the time his tongue retreated and his lips left hers, she’d forgotten her own name.
“So…” She gulped. “What now?”
“Now…” He tilted his head thoughtfully. “Now we hang out with the rugrats for a bit, and then we put them to bed.”
“And then what?”
“And then I take you to your bedroom, help you out of those pesky clothes, and…” He trailed off suggestively.
“And make sweet, sweet love to me all night long?” she filled in.
“Definitely.” He brought his lips to her ear, his mocking voice sending a shiver through her. “But first I’m going to fuck you.”
Miranda couldn’t have suppressed her laughter even if she’d tried. Here he was, the bad boy she’d tried so desperately not to fall in love with. Rough and crude and dangerous, with a smart tongue and a chip on his shoulder and a whole lot of swagger that he didn’t bother apologizing for.
And what do you know—he was exactly what she’d needed.
The End
* * *
UP NEXT: the hottest Out of Uniform installment yet. Three is definitely not a crowd in this steamy ménage featuring Dylan, Aidan and Claire…
Hotter Than Ever
Out of Uniform
Prologue
Three Months Ago
“Your friend looked wrecked,” Claire McKinley said as she followed her future brother-in-law into the darkened front hall of his townhouse. She bent down to unlace her sneakers, feeling Dylan Wade’s green-eyed gaze boring into the top of her head.
She expected him to make a bitchy remark, inform her that his friend’s state of mind was none of her beeswax, but he did none of the above.
“Sophie taking off like that really shook him up. Shook me up too,” Dylan confessed.
“Yeah, me too. I keep thinking about what would’ve happened if we hadn’t found her…” She shuddered. “Oh God. Imagine losing a child.”
The silence that followed was surprisingly free of tension. Weird. Since the moment they’d met, she and Dylan could barely be in the same room without sniping at each other, but almost losing that little girl at the carnival had been so very sobering. Tonight, Claire had witnessed a different side to Dylan. He’d been focused, self-assured, calm under pressure. Which was double weird, because normally he was a cocky, antagonistic asshole.
He was still watching her, even as he kicked off his boots and shrugged out of his blue button-down shirt, which left him in a snug white T-shirt and cargo pants. Claire couldn’t help herself—she swept her gaze over his handsome face and incredible body, so hard and muscular and annoyingly drool-worthy. Chris was in great shape too, but there was something thrilling to be had from the knowledge that Dylan’s ripped six-pack came from bona-fide SEAL ass-kicking, and not the gym that Chris visited three times a week.
Your fiancé’s brother…
The little reminder jolted her out of her thoughts. Oh for heaven’s sake, she had no business admiring this man’s chest, no matter how deliciously ripped it was.
She cleared her throat. “Anyway, I’m going to bed.”
“At nine o’clock? Gee, dear, did all the excitement get to you?”
Claire frowned. Of course. She should have known he couldn’t maintain the Nice Guy act for long. “Annnnnd he’s back.”
“You know you missed me.”
His roguish grin succeeded in raising her hackles—and making her heart skip a beat. She ignored the latter response and took a step toward the doorway.
“Missed the smartass remarks and not-so-veiled jabs about my character? Sorry, can’t say that I have. Good night, Dylan.”
“’Night, honey.”
Her back stiffened. She’d told him on more than one occasion how much she despised it when he called her honey. She was not this man’s honey.
As she stalked down the darkened corridor, a flash of silver winked up at her, drawing her gaze to the two-carat princess-cut diamond on her fourth finger. The engagement ring Christopher James Wade had slipped onto her finger nearly five months ago. Usually the sight of the gorgeous, sparkling ring brought a smile to her lips. Tonight it just pissed her off. Chris had pissed her off. He’d convinced her to join him on this overnight visit to San Diego, promising they’d spend some time together after he wrapped up his meetings, but what had he done instead? Deposited her on his brother’s doorstep and abandoned her to hang out at a country club with his colleagues.
Cut him some slack. He’s got a lot on his plate.
Claire forced her muscles to relax. She entered the guest bedroom and sat on the edge of the double bed, releasing a weary breath. Chris did have a lot of headaches to deal with. For the past year and a half, he’d been working his butt off to fix the mess his mother had made.
The mess that Chris’s brother couldn’t be bothered to help clean up.
Anger rippled through her as she dwelled on the sheer selfishness of that. She understood that Dylan was serving their country, but he couldn’t be bothered to offer some assistance? Maybe send some money home every now and then? Someone ought to give that jerk a real tongue-lashing.
What’s stopping you?
Claire’s brows dipped in angry contemplation. Why shouldn’t she confront Dylan? After all, Chris refused to do it. He insisted that as the man of the house, it was his responsibility to take care of their mother, not Dylan’s. But enough was enough. She’d promised Chris she wouldn’t interfere, but her fiancé wouldn’t be killing himself at work if his brother would just step up and carry some of the load.
Setting her jaw, she stood up and marched out of the guest room, but when she heard the murmur of male voices coming from the hall, she stopped in her tracks.
Crap. Chris must be back. She couldn’t tell his brother off in front of him.
Especially when he’d explicitly ordered her to stay out of it.
She was about to turn around and abandon the plan when she heard a loud thump, as if something—or someone—had slammed into a wall. Fighting a flicker of fear, she crept forward.
All the lights were off, and the house’s layout was still unfamiliar to her, making her feel disoriented as she tiptoed her way back to the main entrance. She rounded a corner, peered at the shadowy doorway—and froze.
Holy fucking shit.
Claire’s jaw fell open. Eyes widened. Brain kicked into overdrive, trying to make sense of what she was seeing.
Clearly she was hallucinating.
Right. She had to be. Because no way was she witnessing Dylan kissing another man.
She blinked a few times, but the scene in front of her didn’t disappear in a puff of hallucination smoke. There he was. Dylan Wade, her fiancé’s infuriatingly sexy, self-absorbed brother.
Kissing another man.
Claire blinked again, focused on the dark-haired guy whose lips were glued to Dylan’s. She couldn’t see his face, but his body was equally hard and incredible, and the two men were going at it like they had one minute left to live and they planned on making every last second count.
The punch of lust that hit her was completely unexpected. But…oh sweet Lord, shock and confusion aside, this might actually be the hottest thing she’d ever seen in her life.
“You sleep with anyone else this summer?” The question came from Dylan’s visitor. Or, Dylan’s…lover?
Her thighs clenched at the thought.
“Yes.” Dylan’s raspy voice sent a shiver running through her and shot Claire up to a new level of arousal.
She shrank back into the shadows
, ordering herself to walk away, to respect their privacy, to duck into her room and make herself come like right now, but she couldn’t tear her gaze off the two men. Their voices lowered for several moments, making it difficult to hear, so she studied their body language instead. The stranger had one hand on Dylan’s broad chest, the other behind Dylan’s neck. Dylan’s right palm rested on the other man’s shoulder, his left one idly stroking the man’s hip. And when they kissed again, the flash of tongue she glimpsed made her bite back a moan.
That moan damn near slipped out when the man spun Dylan around and pressed his groin against the SEAL’s ass.
A second later, Claire’s entire body went up in flames as she watched Dylan reverse positions so the dark-haired man was the one facing the wall now.
Her senses went on overload. She had no idea what to focus on. Their words? Their mouths? Their bodies?
She was so close to exploding she could barely think straight. She couldn’t believe she was watching her fiancé’s brother making out with another man, and suddenly a hundred questions started buzzing through her head.
Was Dylan gay?
Did Chris know?
Why was she so turned on?
The sound of a door clicking shut jarred her back to the present.
Dylan’s friend—lover?—was gone. The blond SEAL flicked the deadbolt, then turned around with a grin on his face.
A grin that dissolved the second he spotted Claire.
Their gazes locked. She could see the wariness swimming in his eyes.
She gulped. “I…”
Her gaze swiftly dropped to her feet. Oh man. What did one even say in a situation like this?
She opened her mouth and tried again. “I…” After a beat, she raised her head and met his gaze head-on. “I won’t say anything to Chris.”
Then she darted away before he could respond.
I won’t say anything to Chris?
Out of Uniform Box Set: Books 4-6 plus 2 Bonus Novellas Page 28