A Texas Soldier's Family. Cathy Thacker Gillen
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His gaze dipped to her lips, lingered. “To sell both properties and move on.”
“Your mom said your tour of duty was about up.”
“Twenty-nine days. I saved my time off for the end, so I’m on R & R through the rest of it.”
“And then...?”
“I either reenlist and become a staff physician at Walter Reed in Washington, DC...”
She could see him doing that. And probably loving it. “Or...?”
“Head up a residency program at a hospital in Seattle.”
“Where your sister Sage is living.”
He nodded.
She could imagine him teaching, too. Having all the young female residents fall hopelessly in love with him. “Do you know what you’re going to do?”
“Still thinking about it.”
“But in either case you won’t be returning to Texas.” As his mother wanted.
His sharp, assessing gaze met hers. “No.”
“Not tied to the Lone Star State in any way?” Despite the fact he and his siblings had apparently all grown up in Texas.
He raised his brows. “Are you?”
Hope nodded, her heart tightening a little in her chest. “I’ve worked in enough places to realize Texas is my home. And where I want Max to grow up.”
Feeling oddly disappointed that it was a sentiment they obviously did not share, and at the same time determined to end the unexpected intimacy that had fallen between them, she finished diapering her son, then lifted Max into her arms. “Where are we going to bunk down tonight?” she asked, shooting Garrett an all-business look. “I assume your mom had some definitive plan when she suggested we come out here. Maybe a hotel in town, assuming there is one?”
Garrett reached for his cell phone. “I’ll give my mother a call, see if I can find out what her ETA is.”
Hope headed to the SUV to get Max settled in his infant seat, so they would be ready to lock up the house and go wherever they were headed next as soon as he got off the phone. To her relief, her little boy, exhausted from the chaotic activity of the day, was already fast asleep when Garrett came out of the house, informing her, “We’ve been directed to the bunkhouse.”
Why did she suddenly have the feeling that was not a good thing? Hope stood, her hands propped on her hips. “When will everyone else be here?”
His expression as matter-of-fact as his low tone, he answered, “Noon tomorrow.”
* * *
HOPE BLINKED. SHE could not have heard right! “Noon tomorrow?”
“My mother decided to stay in Dallas and handle some things there first.”
“Unlike me, you don’t seem all that surprised.”
He narrowed his eyes. “What are you accusing me of?”
She flushed. “Nothing.” She just knew that being alone with this sexy, virile man was not a good idea. “But,” she continued hastily, “under the circumstances, I think it would be better if Max and I went into town and stayed in a hotel.”
He choked off a laugh. “What? You’re worried I’m going to put the moves on you?”
Actually, she was worried she was going to lose all common sense and put the moves on him. But not about to reveal that, she crossed her arms in front of her and quipped wryly, “Dream on, Alpha Man.”
His eyes crinkled mischievously at the corners. “Alpha Man?”
Had she really said that? She must be punchier than she’d thought. Which was par for the course, considering she’d been lured back to work three months before she had planned and then, compounding matters, having to get up at the crack of dawn to take the six o’clock flight from Dallas to DC in order to be seated next to him on the return trip. Aware he was still waiting for an explanation, she lifted a hand. “It was an insult. A friendly one.” Hope bit down on an oath. She was just making it worse.
He laughed, his husky baritone like music to her ears, as he continued giving her a long, sexy once-over. “Sounded more like a compliment to me.”
He was twisting everything around, embarrassing her and putting her off her game. Indignant, she huffed, “Of course you would think that.”
He held his ground, arms folded in front of him, biceps bunched. Again, that long steady appraisal. “Because I’m alpha?”
He definitely was not a beta.
She threaded her hands through her hair, wishing she’d thought to put it in a tight, spinsterish bun before he’d picked her up. “Can we end this repartee?”
His mother was right. They had been flirting. They were flirting now. Heaven help them both.
He leaned in and gathered her into his arms. “With pleasure.”
The feel of him against her, chest to chest, thigh to thigh, sucked all the remaining air from her lungs.
“What are you doing?” she gasped, wishing he didn’t feel so very, very good.
Wishing he hadn’t just reminded her of all that had been missing from her life.
He threaded his hand through her hair, let it settle tenderly on the nape of her neck. “What any alpha male would do in this situation.” Grinning, he bent his head toward hers.
Hope tingled all over. Lower still, there was a kindling warmth. Cursing the forbidden excitement welling within her, she whispered, “Garrett...for pity’s sake...you can’t... I can’t...!”
He laughed again, even more wickedly. His lips hovered above hers, so close their breaths were meeting as sensually and irrevocably as the rest of them.
“Kiss you and see if you kiss me back?” he taunted softly, stroking the pad of his thumb along the curve of her lips—top, then bottom. “Oh, yes, Hope Winslow, I sure as hell can.”
Not only can, Hope thought, as an avalanche of excitement roared through her. Did.
His lips fit over hers, coaxingly at first, then with more and more insistence. She told herself to resist. Tried to resist. But her treacherous body refused to listen to her heart, which had been wounded, and her mind, which absolutely knew better.
She had been alone for so long.
Had needed to be touched, held, for months now.
She