his hands and opened to the middle.
“‘That’s right, baby,’” she read. “‘Harder. Please.’”
He didn’t think it was possible for him to get more turned on, but the combination of her husky voice and bright, laughing expression took him up a notch. Given that her eyes were fixed on the book, he didn’t think she’d noticed.
But that hadn’t stopped him from picking up on her response. His gaze swept over her, settling on her breasts. Either she was freezing in the unair-conditioned store or her nipples were begging for attention.
“‘I want you to drive your hard...’”
She looked up at him, catching him with his gaze locked on her chest. Shit. He quickly looked away.
“Too much for a morning reading at Main Street Books?”
“No,” he said with a dry laugh, running a hand through his hair. “It is just that I haven’t done this in a while. Flirting.”
She nodded, closing the book. “Just got out of a relationship?”
“Something like that. I’m a—”
He couldn’t say the word. For the first time in months someone had looked at him with something other than pity. If he said the word widower the laughter would vanish. And then she’d leave. He might not be sure where this was going, but he didn’t want her to disappear.
It had been over a year since he’d lost his wife to cancer. Before she’d slipped away, she’d been sick. For eighteen long months, his world had revolved around illness, pain, loss and pity—even from his teammates. Not a hint of laughter.
He wanted to move forward. After his last mission, he didn’t have a choice. His grief had distracted him at the worst possible moment. He needed to add some lightness back into his life.
“It’s a long story,” he added.
She turned her head to one side, studying him. “One that explains why you’re hiding from a group of women?”
He blinked. “How did you know?”
“I saw your covert entrance and the group of ladies across the street. Pretty sneaky. Although next time you might want to choose the nonfiction section.” Her tone was friendly, but no longer teasing. “Why are they after you?”
“I’ll tell you,” he said, determined to hear her laugh again. “But first, I need your word you won’t join forces with them.”
She lowered her voice as if they were discussing a top-secret mission. “I promise.”
“They’re trying to raffle me off to the highest bidder.”
Sadie let out a bark of laughter, raising her hand to her mouth. “And you’re not for sale?”
“No, ma’am.” He shook his head. “But those women? Man, they’re relentless. If my team found out? I’d never be able to live that one down.”
The bell over the door rang. Sadie stepped back and peered around the last bookshelf in the section. From there, he suspected she could see the front door.
“They’re in the store.” She returned to the romance/erotica section and scooped up her purse. “We need to get you out of here. We can’t have a tough soldier like you become the laughingstock of your team.”
She took his hand and pulled him along behind her. “Come with me. I’m parked out back.”
Hand in hand, Logan followed her through the bookshelf maze. He knew they weren’t in any real danger, but his heart raced. What would this wild, sexy woman do next?
Sadie froze midaisle. If his training hadn’t kicked in, he would have crashed into her, probably sending them both to the floor. As it was, she’d left him off balance.
Without warning, she pressed him against a side door between two bookshelves. He caught himself before the shock of her body against his sent them both tumbling.
“Someone’s coming,” she whispered.
Instinctively, he grabbed her by the waist and pulled her around, shielding her from view, or enemy fire. But this was a bookstore in Vermont, not a war zone. Still, he didn’t step away.
Her breasts pressed against his chest, sending his racing heart into overdrive. Her lower body fit between his splayed legs. With her heeled sandals and long legs, he would only need to lift her another inch before sliding inside—if they were naked and he was ready. At the moment, he only had one of the two working in his favor.
When he was on a mission, the adrenaline sometimes left him standing at attention. A hazard of the job. But right now it had everything to do with the woman staring up at him as if she couldn’t wait for his next move. She shifted, rocking her hips against him. There was no way she could miss the hard evidence of just how turned on he was.
Her gaze drifted to his lips, an invitation to taste. Logan groaned, lowering his head until their lips were practically touching. And he hesitated. Releasing her waist, he ran his hands through her loose wavy hair, his eyes roaming over her parted lips. He wanted to kiss her. But not here. Not like this.
She pushed up on her tiptoes, making every muscle in his body aware of just how much he wanted her. Turning her head, she brought her mouth to his ear and whispered, “I think the coast is clear. On three, let’s make a break for it. My car is the blue Prius on the left. Ready?”
He nodded, relieved and at the same time wishing the full-body contact wouldn’t end.
“One, two, three,” she said.
He stepped away, letting her slip in front of him and lead the way to their escape car.
This was crazy, but right now he didn’t care. He felt alive and more turned on than he’d been in years—a helluva long way from that lonely cliff’s edge he’d been standing on for months.
* * *
SADIE PEELED OUT of the parking lot with Mr. Ruggedly Handsome in her passenger seat. Her hands gripped the wheel, her body tense with excitement. But as soon as they turned onto the main road, guilt crept up on her. She’d come to Vermont for her sister, not to “rescue” hot soldiers from a crowd of women—especially one still reeling from a recent breakup or worse.
God, what if he was married? Sadie took her eyes off the road long enough to glance at his ring finger. Bare. She let out a breath of relief.
Still, there was a story behind that brief moment of hesitation she’d witnessed earlier. If she had to guess, a complex one. Sadie had enough problematic relationships in her life right now. If—and that was a pretty big if—she decided to have a vacation fling, it wouldn’t be with a complicated man.
But Logan was a walking five-alarm fire. The anticipation of that almost-kiss had left her body on edge. She tightened her grip on the steering wheel. Turning left, she drove the length of the block, and turned left again.
“Mind telling me where we’re going?” he asked.
“Back
