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What are you now, a poet? Get your jaw off the floor.
Ke
“Depends.” She let her gaze drop to his tree-trunk-sized thighs under the pretense of adjusting her sunglasses. “Are you Major Beck Collier?”
His grin was a mile wide. “At your service, ma’am.”
Good god. What was that accent? Georgia? Definitely the south. “Look, dude. Anytime you want to stop ma’am-ing me would be swell.”
Smile slipping, he nodded as if she’d imparted life-saving instructions. “Is there something I can call you instead?”
Hold the phone. This guy didn’t even know her name. Which meant…he didn’t know she was Lieutenant General Sutton’s daughter? When walking around base, she might as well wear a flashing neon sign that said looky no touchy. And oh, they looked. She made sure of it. But on the rare occasion a man actually approached, he was clued in pronto about whose loins she’d sprung forth from. Ke
“I’m Ke
His expression was one of horror. “No, ma’am—Ke
She looked around. “Like what? Walking?”
Unbelievable. This handsome, hulking man actually turned a little red. “Just in general, I guess.” He gave a little head shake. “You’ll have to pardon me. I haven’t been around a woman for a while. You caught me a little off guard, is all. I didn’t expect—”
“Expect what?”
He appeared to be struggling with the effort to keep his gaze above her neck. Which was a huge feat, considering she wore a leather bustier and skintight, low-rise jeans that left several inches of her belly exposed. Honestly, her boobs were looking at him. Anyone with a penis should have returned the favor by now and usually did. Without fail. His Adam’s apple slid up and down. “Can we start over?”
“Nope. What didn’t you expect?”
Beck’s blue eyes fell to hers, then looked away again. Anywhere but at her. “I guess I…” He cleared his throat. “I didn’t expect my ride to be so beautiful she makes my stomach hurt. I didn’t expect that.” He ducked his head and breezed past her, toward the parking lot, while Ke
* * *
Five minutes back on US soil and you’ve already made a jackass out of yourself.
Beck hefted his bag higher on his shoulder, refusing to acknowledge the pain that ripped through his right side. Or maybe he should acknowledge it. Focus in on the wound’s discomfort, let it spread down to his toes. It might take his mind off the girl he could hear jogging to catch up with him. Should she really be jogging in that shirt? Could one even call it a shirt?
Mind your ma
For the first time, he regretted not asking his twin sister, Huntley—a nurse on base—to pick him up. Or his best friend, Cullen, who worked on base training soldiers in explosives and demolition. Both of them would have dropped everything at a moment’s notice. He’d just needed some time. Time to wrap his mind around being home for the first time in six years. Time to prepare himself for the news he would impart. Time to accept that everything had changed.
Ke
Listen to yourself. What do you know about women?
For the last year, he’d been locked inside a command center full of high-ranking officers, field scientists, journalists. Before that? Well, he’d been waiting. Would still be waiting, if there was anything left to wait for back home in Georgia.
They reached the parking lot and Beck immediately moved behind Ke
She threw a look at him over her shoulder, green eyes glowing just above the rim of her sunglasses. “You in a rush to be somewhere, Major?”
Home. So I can get rid of this pain in my stomach. This wasn’t his home, though. It was only temporary.
“No rush.” He followed her lead down the last row of cars, watching as she sent the sign bearing his name fluttering into a metal garbage can. “I figure you have somewhere you’d rather be than chauffeuring me around base.”
Ke
Beck lassoed the groan trying to break free from his throat, yanking it back. The thought of her tossing around in tangled sheets...
Enough. This girl was doing him a kindness, and his mind could only muster inappropriate thoughts. Someone who looked, moved and spoke like her was probably on the receiving end of such thoughts on a regular basis. He wouldn’t repeat the pattern, although intuition told Beck she wanted him to. “I tend to agree, Ke
A laugh bubbled from her lips. “You aren’t going to fit in here, True Blue.”
The husky endearment made the wrench below his belt tighten. “It’s a good thing I don’t intend to be here long then.”
For some reason, his response seemed to remind her of something. She stepped toward the car, digging in her front pocket to pull out a jingling set of car keys. The action tugged the denim low—way too low—giving him a glimpse at the barbed wire tattoo circling her hips and the edge of sheer black panties. Beck’s mouth went dry as the desert he’d returned from. And just when he thought it couldn’t get any worse, she popped the trunk and lifted it. Her stomach muscles stretched, the shirt—was it even a shirt?—gliding up her taut stomach and tightening over her high breasts.
Beck swung the bag off his shoulder and held it over his lap before she could witness his reaction to her body. His hard-on was becoming a serious problem. It wouldn’t go away as long as Ke
“Throw your bag in the trunk.”
“No, thanks. I think I’ll hang on to it.”
She lifted an eyebrow. “The passenger side of my car will barely fit you, let alone all your earthly possessions.”