Mine

Brandon’s hand dropped to his side, the water bottle in his palm all but forgotten as he stared at Natalie. “Wait, you’re an Army sniper, too?”

She snorted. “Lord, no.”

That seemed like a bit much to Gabe. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t sound appalled by that possibility.”

“I used to work in intelligence.”

Brandon’s eyes grew wide and stayed there. “Computers?”

They’d be at this for hours, going round and round. Gabe cut it off with a simple comment. “Spy shit.”

“Gabe—”

“Cool.” Brandon made the word last for three syllables. A new expression crossed his face. A mix of respect and curiosity.

Gabe couldn’t blame his son. He felt the same way every time he looked at her, which was about every two seconds. His usual I’ve-got-this reserve slipped around her.

Seeing her in the hallway last night had almost done him in. Took every last ounce of control he had not to scoop her up and drop her on his bed. Instead, he went with holding her. The cuddling thing was new to him, but he didn’t hate it.

“Brandon learned long ago not to use my job or the jobs of some of our friends and family to impress his friends.” Gabe meant it as much as a hint to Natalie as a reminder to Brandon that dads remembered every last thing.

She picked up on something, because she turned back to Brandon with a look of curiosity that rivaled his. “What did you do?”

“Told some people at school,” Brandon said with a shrug. “Maybe took one of Dad’s guns in to show it off.”

Natalie’s sharp whistle cut through the room. “I bet that went over well.”

And those were memories Gabe preferred not to take out and examine. “Which is why we no longer live in West Virginia and haven’t for more than a decade.”

Brandon nodded but kept his head down. “Right.”

Turned out Gabe wasn’t quite ready to let the topic drop. Not while Brandon did all that squirming. “Don’t let the hunting crowd fool you, they do not like guns in the classroom. Lots of ticked-off parents in West Virginia. Hours of explaining without really saying anything.”

“That happened years ago. Let’s move on.” Brandon tried to wave it off with a flick of his hand.

Gabe didn’t buy that. “It’s cute you think it works that way.”

“We really take him to this empty cabin and—”

This woman had him justifying everything. Gabe wanted that part of their relationship to end. “Stop being offended on his behalf. He might act like it, but he wasn’t raised by wolves.”

Brandon was smiling now. Clearly having the attention shift did wonders for his ego. “Not entirely.”

“An older family friend, also Army, lives there and watches the place for me. Brandon only uses it as a meeting place for people he doesn’t know that well or is just learning to trust.”

“So, at some point you are allowed to bring friends here?” she asked.

Gabe wondered if she knew how insulting some of these comments really were. “It’s not a prison.”

“It wouldn’t be if I had a car.” Brandon mumbled the comment loud enough for the next town over to hear.

Natalie sat down hard on the barstool next to her. “Wow, he never stops.”

“And this is him on his best behavior.”

Her gaze went back and forth between Brandon and Gabe. “Because I’m here?”

“I don’t want to mess it up for Dad.”

Her attention shot back to Brandon. “What?”

“You.”

“We’re not dating . . .” Her gaze kept bouncing around and finally landed on Gabe. “Say something.”

Since he’d only decided just that second that they actually were dating, or the kind of dating people like them did—in the shadows, hot and heated, always together—he wasn’t sure what she wanted him to say. “I’m waiting to hear what you come up with next.”

“Sex here. You being invited in. You’re dating.” When Natalie made a strange noise Brandon nodded his head and kept talking. “Hey, I approve. I just don’t want to scare you away before Dad can.”

Gabe eyed the sack by Brandon’s feet. The one previously filled with nothing but dirty clothes now held snacks and what looked like a load of clean laundry. “I wonder if you’ll fit in that duffel bag.”

“Not after I take the rest of your food.”

Gabe didn’t fight it. Pay for the food here or at school. Didn’t matter to him. “Grab whatever you want.”

He was about to help empty the rest of the cabinets when Natalie slipped off the stool and grabbed his arm. Pulled him into the great room, just a few feet away.

“We’re not dating,” she said in a desperate whisper.

The denial was starting to get a

“My life is a mess.”

“No question about that.” Seemed to be an affliction of almost everyone he knew.

“The plan is to placate the CIA and start over.”

The words, however smart and right, grated on his nerves. “Where?”

“I have no idea.”

Relief smacked into him. From the wild look in her eyes he got the sense she wasn’t lying. She’d pla

He knew the changes, the uncertainty, had to be ripping her apart. She had mad skills but no place to use them. She’d served with distinction and was being hounded and followed. The whole thing pissed him off on her behalf.

So did the idea of her panicking and ru

She held up a finger in front of his face. “Not dating.”

He folded his hand around it but didn’t push the topic. Not yet. “Call it whatever you want, but you’re sleeping in my bed tonight.”

“You’re mighty sure of yourself.” But she didn’t jerk away from him. If anything, she moved in closer, lowering her voice with each sentence.

No woman had ever wreaked havoc on his senses like this one. She had him thinking things, wanting things. Breaking promises he made long ago to stay unattached.

But one fantasy had been playing in his head almost from the start and it was time to bring it to life. “Let’s just say it’s time I follow through on that promise to tie you up.”

“Your son is right there.”

“And he’ll be gone tonight.” For once Gabe didn’t hate the thought of Brandon heading for school. Not when he remembered what waited for him at home. He leaned down and whispered into her ear. “Be ready.”

TWENTY-ONE

The man kept his promises.

Stretched out on Gabe’s big mattress, Natalie breathed in, letting the last of her worries morph into excitement as Gabe walked around the bed. Naked. He didn’t wear a thing. Neither of them did. Except for the red ties in his hands and the soft white sheet underneath her, not a scrap of material threatened to get in their way.

She’d been in this position, arms above her head and legs spread wide, for what felt like an hour. After stripping the clothing off her piece by piece, he positioned her there. Waiting. Then he performed an excruciatingly slow striptease. When the last of his clothes hit the floor she almost jackknifed off the bed to get to him but she clamped down and waited. The tension rose, and her stomach churned with each passing minute.

Those long, lean thigh muscles brought him around to her side of the bed. Her gaze traveled over the flat stomach to his broad chest and the sprinkling of dark hair there. Up she continued, to his bulging biceps, then farther until she met him gaze for gaze. The intensity in his dark eyes nearly had her turning away. But she couldn’t. Wanting him, needing him, entwined until she craved the touch of his hands and mouth.

He had her wound up, fighting against her own shaky control. She wanted to move, to squirm, but she stayed still. Every cell waited for his next move. Even the air in the oversized room felt thick. The overstuffed couch, the soothing medium blue walls. She ignored it all and focused on him. The one man whose memory danced in her head from the first minute they met.