Out of Uniform Box Set: Books 4-6 plus 2 Bonus Novellas

by Kennedy, Elle

  “Shit. Struck out again, huh?”

  “She’s a sweet girl. Just ain’t the one.”

  He headed for his black pick-up truck, which looked out of place amidst the sedans and convertibles in the lot. But even though he’d left Abbott Creek years ago to move to San Diego, he was still a good ol’ Texas boy at heart—and no self-respecting Texan drove anything but a pick-up.

  “For fuck’s sake, Texas, can’t you ever say a bad word about anyone? It won’t kill you.”

  “My mama taught me some manners. Unlike yours.”

  “Hey, my mom’s a showgirl. Thanks to her, I got to spy on half-naked dancers growing up. Way more useful than manners.”

  He slid into the driver’s seat. “You call just to snoop about my date or do you want anything else?”

  “Miranda wants you to come over for dinner tomorrow night.”

  Jackson narrowed his eyes. “Why?”

  Seth chuckled. “Don’t worry, she’s not planning on springing another chick on you. She just wants to enjoy your company, God knows why. She said she misses you. So do the rugrats.”

  He had to grin. “I saw them all a few days ago.”

  “Hey, you should feel special. They like you the best out of everyone. Well, after Dylan. Soph and Jase are obsessed with that mofo. But Miranda likes you better, I think. She’s totally bought your aw-shucks-I’m-such-a-gentleman act.”

  “Not an act,” he said smugly. “I’m a rare and remarkable specimen of a man.”

  “Christ, I just want to slug you sometimes.”

  “I dare you. I’d love to kick your ass again. Haven’t done it since that boxing match during Hell Week.”

  He smirked to himself, his mind straying to that victorious day when he’d demolished Seth in the ring. They’d been a pair of lowly recruits back then, strangers to each other. He remembered taking one look at the tall, scruffy man, listening to Seth’s trash talk, and deciding that someone needed to put the smartass in his place. Ironically, they’d gone out for a beer afterwards and had been best buds ever since.

  “That was a lucky shot,” Seth said darkly.

  “That was pure skill. Dude, you went out like a light.”

  “I notice you’ve never taken me up on my rematch challenges. Because you know that match was a fluke.”

  “Mmm-hmmm. Whatever you say.”

  “Oh, shut the fuck up. Come over around seven tomorrow. Miranda’s making fried chicken and mashed potatoes in your honor.”

  Seth hung up, which only widened Jackson’s smile. There was only one thing Seth hated more than losing, and that was being reminded of losing.

  Laughing to himself, he headed for Imperial Beach, the little beach town he called home. IB was close to the Coronado base, but far enough away that he didn’t feel isolated to one area. It was already claustrophobic enough living in a city. Even after six years in California, he missed his family’s ranch. The endless acres of land, the winding dirt roads and open spaces, the fresh, unpolluted air.

  He reached his street ten minutes later, turned right, and continued along the narrow road toward his house. With its white clapboard exterior, rickety green shutters and uneven front stoop, the place wasn’t much to look at, but the interior was clean and cozy, and he loved it.

  The porch light had burned out the day before and he hadn’t replaced it yet, so the front of the house was bathed in shadows as he approached the door. When a flash of color caught his peripheral vision, he turned his head and noticed the overflowing flowerbeds next door. His neighbors had been talking about hiring a landscaper for a while now, and the newly planted yellow tulips told him they’d finally gotten around to it.

  He shifted his attention to unlocking the front door, but the second the key turned in the lock, the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end.

  Something was off.

  He didn’t know what exactly, but eight years in the military had provided him with an internal alarm system that was highly reliable.

  Every muscle in his body was coiled tight as he slowly opened the door. He entered the house, his combat boots not making a solitary sound as he walked across the rickety hardwood floor. The house was dark and quiet, the hallway empty. So was the living room, he discovered when he poked his head inside.

  But his inner alarm continued to shriek like a banshee.

  There was someone in the house. He felt it.

  His heart continued to beat normally, his hands steady as he soundlessly crept into the living room and made a beeline for the small gun safe he kept on top of the tall oak bookshelf next to the couch.

  His back went ramrod straight when a soft creak echoed in the house. It had come from his bedroom.

  Jackson slid the nine-millimeter handgun out of its case. He didn’t check if it was loaded—he already knew it was. He just hoped he wouldn’t have to use the dang thing.

  A moment later, he was moving stealthily down the hall again, heading in the direction of his bedroom. No light spilled from beneath the door, but another creak sounded from within. The telltale squeak of somebody shifting on the mattress.

  He flattened himself against the wall, listening, waiting. Silence had fallen again, but the tingling hairs at his nape told him the intruder hadn’t gone anywhere.

  Drawing an even breath, he reached out and curled the fingers of his left hand over the doorknob, gripped his weapon with his other hand and threw the door open with a sharp command: “Don’t move!”

  A frightened yelp pierced the air. “Don’t shoot me! I just came to fuck!”

  Confusion spiraled through him, and he blinked several times to let his eyes adjust to the darkness. The curvy lump on his bed moved, a shadowy whirl of arms and legs as his uninvited visitor scrambled to get off the mattress.

  Jackson flipped the light switch, his jaw falling open when he laid eyes on the naked blonde. Well, actually, she wasn’t completely naked.

  She was wearing a cowboy hat and a leather hip holster.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” he burst out. “How did you get in?”

  “The back door was unlocked,” the blonde sputtered. “I came to surprise you! Stop pointing that gun at me!”

  Still gaping, he lowered his weapon and stared at the nude woman standing in front of him. It was the girl Savannah had set him up with. Dina, the sex addict.

  And he’d almost fuckin’ shot her.

  “Please don’t be mad!” Dina pleaded. Her very fake breasts didn’t so much as sway as she took a desperate step toward him. “I was just so horny tonight and I thought you’d be into it.”

  He continued to stare at her, at a total loss for words.

  “You’re not mad, are you?”

  He stared.

  “So, are you into it?”

  And stared some more.

  “Fine, I guess not,” Dina said snidely. “I’ll just get dressed then. And just so you know, you’ve totally blown your chance with me. See this?” Smirking, she gestured to her naked body. “You’re never getting your hands on any of this.”

  He honestly had no complaints about that.

  4

  The next morning, Jackson stepped onto the porch, still wondering if the events of last night had been nothing more than a god-awful nightmare. Because he couldn’t have actually pulled a gun on a naked woman with a boob job, right?

  Right?

  Wrong, buddy. A sex addict broke into your house. This. Shit. Happened.

  Something was seriously wrong with his life, he decided as he jogged down the stairs to grab the morning paper. At least it was Saturday, which meant he didn’t have to report to the base. He could spend the whole damn day lying on the couch and stewing about the state of emergency his love life had become.

  As he bent down to pick up the rolled newspaper, he noticed a sky-blue pick-up parked in the driveway next door. A white logo with the words “Color Your Yard” graced the side of the truck.

  Looked like Tom and Sarah’s gardener was back
.

  And Lord, but his neighbors had fantastic taste in gardeners.

  His eyes immediately zoomed in on the firm, round ass belonging to the petite woman kneeling in front of the long flowerbed lining the porch. Faded denim cutoffs hugged that fine backside and showed off a pair of tanned, shapely legs. Up top, she wore a yellow T-shirt and a blue baseball cap with a short ponytail sticking out the back.

  Jackson straightened up and took a moment to admire the cute brunette, but his admiration rapidly transformed into bewilderment.

  Was he nuts, or was she actually pressing her ear to the dirt and talking to a patch of bright yellow tulips?

  Yup. She really was.

  Intrigued, he watched as she scooted forward a few inches and once again lowered her ear to the flowers.

  “Oh, for the love of Hey-zeus,” he heard her grumbling. “Where are you, motherfucker?”

  Jackson’s lips twitched in amusement. He walked closer to the strip of grass between the two houses, then cleared his throat to get the gardener’s attention.

  Instantly, her head swiveled in his direction, and he found himself looking into a pair of aggravated green eyes. Very dark green, like the jungle bathed in shadows. She was as pretty from the front as she was from the back, with catlike eyes, sharp cheekbones and pouty pink lips.

  “Everything okay, sugar?” he called out.

  “Not really,” she called back, her sexy lips puckered in a frown. “Hey, you mind if I borrow your ears, sugar?”

  He raised his brows. “Beg your pardon?”

  “Come over here and help me listen.”

  Help her listen?

  He suddenly had to wonder if he was dealing with a crazy person. It would be a fitting follow-up to last night, that was for sure.

  “Can I ask what we’re listening to?” he said when he reached her.

  She had to tilt her head fully to meet his eyes. “Jeez Louise, you’re ridiculously tall.”

  He flashed a smug grin. “Maybe you’re just ridiculously short.”

  “I’m five-four. That’s average height.” She whipped off her cap and smoothed out the top of her dark hair. “How tall are you?”

  “Six-five,” he admitted.

  “Like I said, ridiculously tall. I’m talking to a giant.” She slanted her head pensively. “Do you play basketball?”

  “Nope. Do you?”

  “Sure, I shoot hoops every morning before work.”

  “For real?”

  She burst out laughing. “No, not for real. You actually believed me?”

  His head started to spin, but truthfully, he was enjoying the exchange. He really liked her voice. It was oddly melodic. And despite being a foot shorter than him—which really did make him feel like a giant—she sure was easy on the eyes.

  “Anyway, go over there,” she said briskly, gesturing to the other end of the neatly planted row of tulips. “Tell me if you hear anything.”

  He obeyed her, mostly because his curiosity had skyrocketed to a whole new level. He crouched down on the grass and brought his head close to the flowers, then glanced over and said, “What am I supposed to be hearing?”

  “Well, if my brother is repeatedly dialing my phone like I ordered him to, then you should be hearing the faint strains of A-ha’s ‘Take On Me’. I’m really into 80’s pop.”

  He stared at her for one long moment.

  And then it dawned on him.

  “Wait a sec—you buried your phone in the dirt?”

  She gave an exaggerated sigh. “Not on purpose. It must have slipped out of my pocket when I was planting yesterday. Hazard of the job.” She got on her knees again. “Now, hush. I’d like to find my phone sometime this century. I drove all the way back here this morning and I have stuff to do today.”

  Jackson swallowed his laughter and concentrated on becoming one with the dirt. When he didn’t hear a single sound, he shifted over and investigated a new cluster of tulips. A few seconds passed. And then the muffled sound of a keyboard wafted out of the flowerbed.

  “Over here,” he told the brunette.

  She was at his side in a heartbeat, a broad smile overtaking her face as she shoved a gardening spade into the dirt and started digging.

  He grinned when the metal spade connected with something solid. The gardener promptly dropped the tool and shoved her hands in the soil. Her fingers emerged covered in dirt and triumphantly holding an iPhone in a sturdy black case.

  “Hells yeah!” she exclaimed, waving the phone in his face. “We did it!”

  The phone was still blaring out the cheesy ringtone, and she quickly wiped one hand on the front of her cutoff shorts before taking the call.

  “Hey, Danny, it’s me. I found it.” She paused for a beat. “Call me a dum-dum again and I won’t bring home any breakfast… Yeah... Yeah, whatevs, dude. I’d like to see you try… Uh-huh. ’Kay. See you soon.”

  After she hung up, she turned to Jackson. “Little brothers are such a pain in the ass.”

  “Trust me, I know. I have a younger sister and she used to be a real pest. How old is your brother?”

  “Sixteen. He can be a total shit sometimes, but for the most part, he’s a good kid.”

  Jackson slid his hands into the pockets of his faded Levis. “So you’re doing some work for Tom and Sarah?”

  “Yep. But the job’s all done, actually. Sarah didn’t want anything fancy, so it didn’t take long to finish everything up.”

  He hid his disappointment. He’d been hoping she’d only just begun and that he’d get to see her again, but as usual, luck wasn’t on his side.

  Looked like he’d have to make his move now.

  He extended his hand. “I’m Jackson Ramsey, by the way. I live next door.”

  “Mia Weldrick. And I’d shake your hand but mine is all covered with dirt.”

  “I don’t mind getting dirty every now and then.” With a crooked grin, he stepped forward and took her hand, giving it a light shake.

  She arched her delicate eyebrows. “Was that a line?”

  “Was what a line?”

  “You know, the whole ‘I like it dirty’ thing. Was that supposed to get me all tingly and weak-kneed?”

  Jackson had to laugh. “I didn’t say I liked it dirty. I said I didn’t mind it. And no, it wasn’t a line.” He tipped his head to the side. “Why, did it get you tingly and weak-kneed?”

  Her green eyes sparkled. “Nope.”

  She took a step away and he experienced a tiny jolt of distress. He didn’t want her to go yet.

  “Would you like to have dinner with me sometime?” he burst out, lacking all finesse and sounding far too eager.

  Mia sighed. “Oh boy.”

  “‘Oh boy?’” Another grin sprung to his lips. “Is that how you respond to all your dinner invitations?”

  “No. But that’s because I don’t get a lot of them,” she said frankly. “I never go out, which means I don’t meet a lot of guys. Honestly, I’m unprepared for this.”

  “Doesn’t require much prep, sugar,” he teased. “A yes or no would do the trick.”

  Another “Oh boy” escaped her perfect lips, which made him shake his head in bewilderment. Normally he was dang good at reading women, but he seriously had no clue what was going on in this one’s head.

  “Okay, I’m going to lay it all on the line,” she declared. “You’re wicked hot, and I’m totally digging the height thing. It makes me feel dainty.”

  He choked out a laugh. “All right…”

  “But I don’t want to have dinner with you.”

  A rush of disappointment filled his chest. “I see.”

  “It’s nothing personal,” she said quickly. “I bet you’re a really awesome guy, and that accent is definitely a bonus, but I don’t have time to go out on dates. I have a gazillion jobs and a teenage boy to raise.”

  “Your parents aren’t in the picture?”

  “Nope, it’s just Danny and me. Which is why dating is the last thing on my m
ind right now, and probably won’t be until Danny graduates. So even though I’m flattered, I’m gonna have to pass.”

  He was about to tap into his innate Southern charm to twist her arm, but she was already walking toward her truck. “It was nice meeting you,” she said with a genuine smile. “But I’ve got to skedaddle now.”

  A minute later, she was gone, leaving him staring at her taillights in dismay.

  5

  Jackson back strode into the house. He couldn’t believe Mia had just taken off like that. The first woman he’d felt a real connection to in forever, and he wouldn’t get to see her again.

  He stalked into the living room, then stood there for a moment at a total loss. What now? Did he put on a movie and kill time until he had to go to Seth’s for dinner? Did he take a nap? Play some Call of Duty?

  He dismissed each of those options and headed for his bedroom instead. Fuck it. There was only one way to release all this pent-up frustration, and that was jacking off until he couldn’t frickin’ see straight.

  Fuck, he hadn’t had sex in ages. At least not since before the team’s stint in the desert. That he couldn’t remember exactly how long it had been made him feel like a pathetic loser. All his buddies used to be major manwhores, and even though they’d all settled down, they still got action like nobody’s business. Even when they were abroad, for fuck’s sake—as much as he wanted to, Jackson would never be able to erase the memory of walking in on Seth’s naked Skype session with Miranda during their deployment.

  He stretched out on the bed and unbuckled his belt, pulling out his semi-erect cock and wishing like hell it wasn’t his own hand doing it, but a warm female one. Like Mia’s. Christ, having her hand on his dick would probably feel like heaven. She probably had a dang good grip, working with her hands every day.

  A moan lodged in his throat as he circled his fingers around his shaft. He was aching. Edgy. Primed for sex. Rough, kinky, dirty sex—and therein lay the problem. The women he’d been with hadn’t felt comfortable taking things where he wanted them to go, which was why he took it slow nowadays, getting to know a girl so he could gauge her sexual attitudes before he slept with her.