quiet. After briefing his students on their training sortie, he’d taken them out to the test range, flown four runs and then debriefed back at the office.
Now, after hours of sitting hunched over at his desk, filling out reports, he found himself wishing for Lily’s talented fingers to massage away the kink in his neck. He could imagine her standing behind him kneading the tense muscles of his neck and shoulders, murmuring soothing words in her soft, oh so feminine voice.
Naked.
He swallowed as the memory of how she’d looked this morning invaded his mind. Bent over to reveal she shaved … everywhere. Her white breasts tipped with pale pink nipples. And he’d caught a glimpse of a tiny jewel in her belly button… .
Ethan groaned and shifted in his chair. Even the brief glimpse he’d gotten had burned the image in his brain forever.
Then he remembered she was the reason he hurt.
A bruise the size of an ostrich egg had formed between his shoulder blades where the beam had hit, and trying to sleep on that futon had given him a crick in his neck. Thankfully, he would only have to stay there a couple more nights. Maybe she’d already found another place that would allow pets. He would offer to pay her rent for a month or two until she received her check from the insurance company.
He couldn’t have her staying with him indefinitely. But he was honor-bound to help her out, at least temporarily. He had been the cause of her losing not only her living quarters, but her livelihood, as well.
Guilt wrenched him. In twenty years with the air force, during countless tours of combat duty, he’d done his share of blowing up structures. But those missions had had a purpose. Destroy enemy outposts. Secure an area. Ensure safety for the ground troops. But not this.
All because he’d lost control of his reactions.
“There you are.”
Ethan recognized the voice and winced. Captain Mitch McCabe lounged against the door frame, still wearing his flight suit from this morning’s training session.
“Thought the massage was supposed to help with that kind of thing,” McCabe said as he pushed off the jamb and sauntered in.
Ethan realized he was rubbing the back of his neck, and snatched up some papers from his desk. “Need something?”
“Yes, sir.” McCabe saluted. “I need a SIT REP, sir.”
“A situation report?” Ethan couldn’t think of anything new to report. Well, nothing McCabe needed to know about.
“About last night, sir. Since Jackson won the wager, he asked for a … Well, how’d it go, sir?”
McCabe’s barely contained smirk grated on Ethan’s nerves. “It went.” He directed his attention back to the papers and shuffled them around.
But instead of leaving, McCabe planted his scrawny butt on the desk and folded his arms across his chest. “I heard that things—” he cleared his throat “—heated up fast.”
Ethan’s gaze shot up to the captain, and pain pierced his neck again. “Where’d you hear that?”
He shrugged. “Jackson heard about it on his police scanner. What the hell happened in there?”
Ethan bit back a curse. This crazy situation … “That place broke so many fire codes it was only a matter of time. But the lady will be out of my place by Monday.”
“Whoa, you got that delicious strawberry to go home with you? I prefer to stay at a woman’s place myself, but whatever works for you, man.”
Ethan shot up from his chair. “I am not sleeping with that whack job.”
The captain was chuckling and shaking his head before Ethan had even finished his sentence. Too late, he realized McCabe had been baiting him. And it had worked.
Ethan had to take control. Regaining his seat along with his temper, he went back to studying the papers in front of him. “We’re done here, McCabe. Have a nice weekend.”
“You want to shoot some pool tonight? When Jackson’s not on cop patrol he’s all wrapped up in Keno girl. And Hughes has been a pain in the ass ever since she got back from Langley.”
Ethan sometimes stopped by the officers’ club on a Saturday night for a game or two with his buddies. But he probably shouldn’t leave the kooky lady alone in his condo for any longer than necessary. “No. I’m heading home.”
“Hey, it’s cool.” McCabe nodded and winked. “I understand.”
Ethan didn’t take the bait this time. He stared his friend down until the man known at Nellis as “Casanova McCabe” finally saluted and headed down the hall.
After sending an email to his commanding officer that he’d be late Monday morning, Ethan headed for home. He’d stopped by the bank this morning, but he still needed to replace his driver’s license.
Within fifteen minutes he pulled his SUV into the garage. He opened the door to his condo and stared around the room as he slowly stepped inside. A leafy tree as tall as the ceiling sat in a clay pot beside his television. The sofa was covered in bright yellow, orange and green pillows. And a neon pink beanbag chair sat in the center of the room.
What had she done? Irritation burned through his insides like acid. His stomach growled at the aroma of barbecue wafting from the kitchen. He looked to his left to find the culprit of this reverse home invasion.
Lily was pulling something out of the oven, head banging to the beat of a song only she could hear on her iPod earbuds. Her hair was parted on either side of her head and tied with ribbons beneath her ears, and she wore a baggy pink shirt and a pair of plaid men’s shorts that looked as if she’d stolen them off a retiree at a golf course.
She glanced up and saw him, and her eyes widened. “Ethan.” She flashed a dazzling smile. “You’re home.”
Her million-watt grin hit him like blowback from an F-16. Something caught in his throat and he had to clear it. No one called him Ethan. And no one had ever been glad he was home.
Before he could fully push down the unwanted feelings, she was chattering again. “You’re just in time for dinner. I made tofu burgers, with sweet potato wedges to help balance your chi. Do you like honeydew?”
“Lily.”
“And I want you to try this wine. It’s made from mangos, but you’re going to love it. Mist says it balances his energies.”
“Lily.”
Squawk. “You can’t handle the truth,” the bird called out, clear as a human.
“Rhett, get off.” She shoved the orange tabby—Ethan’s archenemy—off the closest kitchen bar stool. “Here, Ethan. Sit down and I’ll make you a pla—”
“Lily!” He couldn’t remember the last time he’d raised his voice.
“Yes, Ethan?”
“Turn off your music.”
She
