“You can’t always get what you want.”
Mick Jagger
Chapter One
Zack Pritchard parked the innocuous four-door gray rental on the side street around the corner from his mother’s home. Without forethought he expertly wedged the vehicle between two other equally bland cars beneath a shady tree.
He pulled his duffle from the trunk and scanned the empty street. Bushes clustered against the corner house shuddered, catching his eye. His focus sharpened at the same time his muscles tensed. Fingers uncurled from the luggage strap, silently unzipped a pocket and wiggled inside until they reached the cool steel of his gun. His legs separated into a fighting stance, bending at the knee. The bush trembled. He crouched.
A calico cat with two matching kittens pranced out and proceeded haughtily across the lawn, ignoring Zack, even when he burst out laughing. The sound startled him. It’d had been a while since he’d found joy in life.
Habits were hard to break. His hometown, Riggers, Texas was not under a terrorist threat. And his sweet younger sister, Glyn’s marriage was hardly a covert op. Nor for that matter was his arrival a surprise. He glanced at this watch. Other than the fact he was an hour early.
He hoped the cat wasn’t an omen. Was he going to jump and twitch at every noise or sudden movement? That’d make for some attractive wedding photos.
Being alert always made sense even on leave, but he needed to dial it back a notch. The paved alley was lined with tall fences and square plastic trashcans. Three houses in, he entered his mother’s yard through the wooden back gate.
No cars were parked in the driveway. More than likely no one was home.
Only a flashy, sunshine yellow Ferrari F430 sat on the street as incongruous as mayo on a hot dog. What was a high-powered precision machine doing in a middle class neighborhood in a no-where town in north Texas? Riggers as the name implied, was an oil-boom town. Even if someone had sunk a well and money was no object, why park it here?
Before choosing a parking location, Zack had circled the block twice. The second time served no purpose other than to give him another chance to ogle the powerful machine. Racing was no longer his life, but rarely did the impetuous days of his youth enter his thinking, so he supposed it caught him off-guard.
NASCAR. Two years riding the circuit as a backup driver. Always the bench warmer. A smile curved his lips as he remembered his drunken stupor, combined with the frustration and rage of an arrogant twenty-year old that had him staggering into a recruiting office. Without warning, he joined the Navy.
Despite the predicted gloom and doom, his decision was the best thing that ever happened to him. The Navy led him to the SEALs and his life achieved purpose. Would he ever find that raw bone-deep satisfaction again? Or would sitting on the sidelines, watching others do the job he loved, be enough? At thirty-three he had reached the upper limit for active SEALs in field. The Navy liked him, but with each promotion, the thing he loved most was drifting further and further from his grasp.
His mother’s home was older with a detached garage located at the rear of the lot. As he headed down the driveway, he caught another glimpse of the Ferrari. It belonged to no one he knew unless Glynnis dumped Stan-the-man and snagged a tycoon. No, if Glyn found a man with money his mother would have published it in every paper in America. Stanley, aka Mr. Safety Goggles, as his younger brother, Gordy aptly nicknamed him, lived a risk free, and in Zack’s opinion, very boring life. Partly due to his career choice as an OSHA inspector for one of the industrial plants out on the highway and partly because of his personality.
Gordy should be the one getting married. He’d dated Chloe since high school. The first time Zack met her, she’d bounced like a cheerleader, but her stick-thin gangly body sported the grace of a newborn giraffe. But any awkwardness had been overcome with an adorable smile and golden brown puppy-dog eyes that dominated her face. Perfect for Gordy or so, he’d always thought.
Until her grandmother’s funeral two years ago.
His last trip to Texas. He’d shown up at the funeral expecting to see the same cute kid.
Boy, had she knocked the wind out of him.
She’d grown up. Smoothed out. Filled out. Still slender and willowy, but with soft curves that called to a man. And breasts, the perfect size to fill a man’s hands. Her heart shaped face still hosted big brown eyes but the rest of her features had caught up with them. Particularly that mouth. Oh, man the things he imagined he could do with those perfect lips.
Chloe La Ruse.
Zack would never have admitted it publicly, but Chloe had been the object of some pretty incredible fantasies. Holed up in tight situations in foreign countries with unpronounceable names, he’d found concentrating on the pretty blonde with the velvety golden skin kept him from losing his mind. She reminded him of autumn, all shades of rich gold and warm brown tones with flashes of heat-filled oranges and reds.
He hadn’t seen her in person since that day, but the effect on his body hadn’t lessened. He didn’t think she’d cling in his mind like a burr he couldn’t shake.
If it’d had just been the funeral he might have been okay, but his mother, after ignoring Chloe to the point of rudeness, reversed herself and insisted Chloe join them for dinner.
Following the meal, the rest of his family disappeared leaving Zack and Chloe alone. They moved to the porch to watch a spectacular sunset in the fading daylight and the sweltering Texas heat. She was the only woman he’d ever known who hated air conditioning as much as he did.
They sat on the wooden deck. Zack tried not to stare at the yellow dress molding her breasts. A line of dewdrops beaded above her delectable lips. Hell, he tried not to drool as he struggled to have thoughts that didn’t involve kissing his brother’s girlfriend.
Gordy, who was so enamored, he’d gone to play computer games in his room. Alone.
“What exactly do you do in the SEALs?”
He tried to answer, but sounded like a blithering idiot with his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth.
The television blared from the family room.
Zack took her hand and touched the delicate skin of her wrist under the pretense of offering her comfort over the funeral. She shivered, but hadn’t drawn back her hand. That signal from any other woman would have encouraged him to make the next move. Instead he forced himself to hold back, to not think about her lips or the warm caress of her skin or the way her scent of oranges and wild honeysuckle filled his nostrils. The demons that drove him wanted her. He went so far as to glance around for a dark corner where he could peel away that dress from her body to see what was underneath.
If she hadn’t been Gordy’s…
He wouldn’t go there this time. The last visit had been tough enough keeping his hands off her.
Gordy didn’t deserve her.
And Zack couldn’t have her.
Bolstering his resolve he grabbed the handle of the back door.
A grimace crossed his face. The door gave without hesitation. Her mother took no precautions despite Zack’s warnings. He set his bag on the floor of the mudroom and sat on the bench to unlace his boots.
“Gordy, no.” The feminine voice that haunted his dreams protested. “We don’t have time.” Except the words were different. In his fantasies, she begged, murmuring desperate words in his ear, “Zack, yes, now.”
“Sure we do.” Gordy said. The pleading words a little slurred, probably from lust. If Chloe belonged to Zack, he’d keep her naked in his bed until she was too sated to look at any other man but him.
He recognized Gordy’s tone as the same one he used with their mother to get his way. “My brother won’t be here for at lest half an hour. That’s plenty of time.”
Zack considered dropping a boot to announce his presence. Gordy had his own place. Why would he want to have sex in his mother’s house? Zack shuddered at the repugnant idea.
“I’ve got to go to school.”
Keep up that defense, honey.
“You never want to do it anymore.”
Zack wanted to smack his brother. Could he sound whinier?
Chloe’s voice rose in either protest or irritation, Zack couldn’t decide which. “That’s not true.”
“Yeah, it is.”
Visualizing Gordy’s sulky pout was easy.
“Well, when was the last time you allotted more than fifteen minutes?”
Oh, great. A full-blown argument about sex. Maybe he’d go out and come back in again. He looked at his boots sitting on the floor and sighed. No, he needed to say something like, knock it off.
“You know I’m not into that mushy stuff.” Aw, nuts. His brother defended his sloppy behavior. “Besides we had real sex last a couple of weeks ago.”
A silence followed. Now was his time. He stood and stepped toward the kitchen only to hear Chloe say, “Do you mean when you got drunk and passed out on top of me? That was not a couple of weeks ago, that was before Christmas and if that’s your idea of real sex, I don’t know why we bother.”
Before Christmas? This was May.
And Zack didn’t know why the floor didn’t open up and swallow him whole when he found himself looking into two startled eyes the color of warm honey. A slow blush crept up her cheeks.
“I can’t help it that I love you, babe.” Gordy whined.
“Shut up, Gordon.” Chloe croaked, her voice barely above a whisper. “Zack’s here.” Nervously, she touched her pink tongue to her pretty lips. Zack’s gaze followed the movement.
“Zack!” Gordy hollered, his desire for Chloe obviously forgotten. “Man, great to see you.” He pushed himself off the kitchen chair and lurched forward. The smell of sour alcohol surrounded him. His clothes hung disheveled on his scrawny body. He sported a shiner and a split lip that could only have come from a fight. Fourteen hundred hours on a Tuesday and his brother was drunk.
“What happened to you?” Zack asked, reeling from the hug. He steered his brother back to a chair.
Gordy had lost weight. His below-the-ears hair had bottled blond streaks of color running through the light brown. His cheekbones were hollowed out giving him a gaunt look Zack hadn’t seen before. The new clothes were stylish. A pressed black t-shirt and slacks covered by a subtle brown and black plaid jacket. In fact if it hadn’t been for the alcohol and his battered face, Gordy looked like a male model.
“Nothin’ happened to me.” Gordy glanced in the mirror as he plopped onto his seat. “You should see the other guy.” He grinned at Zack before resting his head on his folded arms supported by the table.
Male model or not, Zack spent too much time in bars not to recognize certain signs. In minutes his brother would be passed out. Apparently, Chloe understood the signs, as well.
“You have to take me to school. You can’t go to sleep now,” she said, using a snappy, crisp voice reminiscent of his third grade teacher, Miss Evans.
In response, Gordy made a snarfling noise and closed his eyes.
“Forget it,” Zack said. “I’ll give you a ride.”
His brother wasn’t completely gone, because he warbled. “Yeah, he’d give you a ride you’d never forget. Then maybe you’d be worth screwing.”
Chloe whirled away before Zack caught her expression. He was kind of relieved. What would he do if she cried? He’d have to put his arm around her, that’s what. But he’d hold himself in check and not allow the situation to get out of hand.
The boy emitted a loud snore. Zack watched drool run out his swollen open lips. How old was he now? Twenty-four? Zack was embarrassed to say it, but Gordy needed a firm boot to the ass. What was wrong with him?
“I’m parked around the block.”
Her head bobbed in lieu of a comment. Skirting around him, she avoided looking his direction as she headed toward the living room. Zack padded out to the mudroom and grabbed his duffle.
“Are you in a hurry? Or do I have enough time to grab a shower and change clothes?”
“We don’t have to leave for about thirty minutes.” Her quiet voice sounded normal, not choked up or anything. Good.
Zack carried the duffle down the hall to the guest bedroom. Clothes were tossed randomly across the bed. Four or five pairs of feminine shoes were scattered on the floor and suitcases were tumbled into a corner.
“You’re upstairs. Your cousin, Valerie wanted this room.” Chloe said not two feet behind him.
“Upstairs?” He avoided looking at her eyes. But with her standing so close it was difficult to do, because his other option was staring at her chest. Plus she wasn’t helping things. Her direct gaze, neither shy nor retiring, challenged him in unexpected ways.
“In Gordon’s old room. Valerie’s son, Aiden, is also staying in there.”
“It’s only got a single bed.”
A grin flitted across her face. “And an air mattress set up for you.”
“Forget it. I’ll stay at a motel.” He grabbed the duffle and hoisted it over his shoulder. He would have kept moving but she blocked the door.
“I offered to let you stay in my second bedroom, but your mother vetoed the idea. She thought you’d be uncomfortable.”
She thought right. No way he could stay at her place. “Of course not. I wouldn’t want to put you out.”
“Oh, your mother wasn’t worried that you’d stand on ceremony. She thought the biggest problem was the fact you don’t like me.”
Yeah, that could be a problem, if only it were true.
Zack had the feeling he was caught between two unseen forces. He swallowed hard. He was a man, damn it. Not a saint. Not a hero. There was only so much temptation he could resist. Staying at Chloe’s would be like sending a match to a tinder festival. This was the worst idea ever. He swallowed again. His throat had never been so dry.
Chloe appeared to know he liked her fine. In fact she seemed to be taunting him, but he couldn’t be one hundred percent sure that wasn’t wishful thinking on his part.
“She’s wrong. I don’t dislike you. If you’ve got room, I’m more than willing to stay at your place.”
Brave talk for a man who swore he wasn’t going to sleep with his brother’s girlfriend. Hell, he was turning out to be as big a schmuck as Gordy. Both of them deserved to have their asses kicked.
