Night Maneuvers Page 7

  Then her mouth was gone. He continued pressing soft kisses down her jaw and neck and back up behind her delicate ear, until he realized she was trying to pull away.

  Breathing heavily, he let his hands drop from around her hot, lithe body and stepped back.

  Her lashes were spiky wet, and she was biting her lower lip. She held her hands in front of her, palms out, as if she couldn’t bear to touch him. Her golden-brown eyes gazed up at him with, what? She looked scared. Vulnerable. He’d never seen Hughes look like that.

  “What’s happening to us, Hughes?” His voice shook, for the first time he could remember.

  “I—I don’t know.” She dropped her gaze and folded her arms around herself. “Maybe we can’t be friends anymore.”

  No. He couldn’t lose Hughes. She was his best friend. If she didn’t want him kissing her, he’d stay away. He’d get over this…infatuation, or obsession or curiosity. Whatever it was, he could lose it. But he couldn’t lose Hughes.

  With a gut-wrenching noise he turned away and heaved himself out of the pool. He scooped up his shoes, grabbed his watch and stalked out to his Jeep, screeching his tires as he pulled away.

  8

  EXACTLY ONE WEEK later, Alex brought the last, lone steak inside and set it on the kitchen counter.

  Mitch’s steak.

  He hadn’t shown up. Hadn’t called or texted. He’d just blown her pool party off.

  Lily came up beside her carrying a tray of empty glasses. “I know you don’t believe in my premonitions, but I have a feeling something good will come from all this.”

  Alex peered behind Grady’s wife to make sure all the other guests had gone. She refused to discuss anything sensitive in front of her colleagues from the base or any new neighbors. Forcing a smile, Alex said, “Something good from my pool party? It was fun. I’m lucky to have such great friends.”

  Lily put her hand on her shoulder and gave her a look that, back in Texas, would have meant, “Bless your little heart, but you’re slow.”

  “Good steak, Hughes,” Grady said as he came up behind Lily and wrapped a protective arm around her waist.

  “I was telling Alex that things will be okay between her and Mitch soon, I just know it.”

  “What about Alex and Mitch?” Jordan asked as she and Jackson stepped into the kitchen carrying their ice chest.

  “Nothing!” Alex tossed the steak into her sink, switched on the disposal, and shoved the hunk of meat down with the grill tongs. “I’m sure he’s plotting his next outrageous prank right now.”

  As she glanced around at her company with a flawlessly nice smile, every one of them looked appalled, and she realized she was still shoving the meat down into the disposal as she talked.

  “That was perfectly good tenderloin, Hughes.” Jackson pointed at the sink.

  “Come on, honey, it’s late.” Jordan grabbed her husband’s arm and dragged him toward the front door.

  After that there was a mass exodus. Jordan assured Alex they’d get together soon, and Lily whispered something about watching out for sea animals to Alex as she hugged her goodbye.

  Sea animals? Did Lily think Alex was going to be injured by a killer dolphin? In the middle of a desert? That girl was a sweetheart, but she was certifiable.

  Alex waved them off, then closed her front door and leaned her forehead against it.

  Did they all know how she felt about Mitch?

  Damn him, anyway. She hadn’t seen him since that disastrous, wondrous kiss in the pool. But she’d assumed it was because she’d started teaching night maneuvers this week and he was still teaching during the day. Now she wasn’t so sure. Would he throw away their friendship so easily?

  Rolling to rest her back against the door, she closed her eyes and played the kiss over again in her mind. How his mouth had taken possession of hers and how he’d run his hands over her body. She’d been trembling and out of breath. And so had he.

  Why couldn’t she have felt that with Neil? Or any other guy she’d met?

  But it had always been Mitch. Ever since the night he’d come to her after catching his wife in bed with that senator’s son. Before that, if Alex were honest. But she tried so hard to keep whatever she felt strictly platonic.

  Last Saturday was the closest he’d come to talking about his childhood since the night his marriage ended, and she’d blown it by pushing too hard. She’d ruined everything the past two weeks by insisting Mitch see her as a woman. And what had that gained her? Nothing but heartache. Her plan had backfired.

  She’d lost her best friend.

  Rubbing her eyes against a roaring headache, she trudged to her bathroom and filled her tub with hot water and vanilla-lavender bath oils. She lit some candles, stripped out of her bathing suit and sank into the bath. She needed to calm her tension headache and think about what to do. Or not think at all.

  It seemed as if she’d been dealing with her feelings for Mitch half her life. She’d tried being a good friend, waiting him out, trying to get over him and, finally, moving away. Nothing had worked.

  She’d thought after the way he kissed her last week that maybe… But if Mitch wanted more than friendship from her, she didn’t want it to be just because he was horny. She couldn’t waste anymore of her life waiting to find out if they could ever be more.

  Resting her head against the rim of the tub, she closed her eyes. Suddenly her grandfather’s words came back to her. “Lexie, girl, you got to go after life like you rope a runaway calf, before it gets away.” He’d whispered it as he hugged her goodbye the day she left for the Air Force Academy. He’d been her lone supporter amidst her parents’ disapproval, so at the time, she’d thought he meant her career. But now she could see how that bit of wisdom applied to the rest of her life, as well.

  She sat up, sloshing water over the edge of the tub. You know what you have to do, Hughes.

  Go after that runaway calf.

  There was never going to be a good time to tell him how she felt. It was always going to be risky. For years, she’d been afraid of losing him if she told him. That he might be appalled, and things would get awkward between them. That the friendship would be ruined.

  But, it seemed like that was where the relationship was right now. Avoiding each other. Feeling awkward. What did she have to lose? What was she waiting for?

  Shaking with urgency and nerves, she dried off, got dressed and hopped in her Mustang. She fought Saturday night traffic, all the while second-guessing her decision.

  What if he laughed at her? Or worse, what if he let her down gently and pitied her?

  Maybe he wouldn’t be home. After all, it was eleven o’clock on a Saturday night. But Mitch was still honoring his thirty days of celibacy. And besides, she knew all the places he’d hang out anyway. She could find him if she had to.

  Turned out there was no need. His Jeep was parked out front of his apartment. Forcing her hands to unclench from the steering wheel, Alex got out and wiped her sweaty palms on her jeans. You can do this, Hughes.

  The closer she got to his door, the more shallow her breathing became. She couldn’t draw in air. This could put the last nail in the coffin of their friendship. Turning around, she headed for her car. She was such a wimp.

  No. She stopped so fast her sneakers squeaked. It was either this or live in limbo-land forever.

  Drawing in a long, deep breath, she spun on her heel, marched up to his door and knocked. After the longest minute of her life, the door swung open.

  Mitch was in a pair of low-riding jeans and nothing more. His chiseled chest made her pulse race. She got caught in the contours of muscles and flat brown nipples, and light dusting of blond hair, and couldn’t look anywhere else. How sad was that?

  “Hughes?”

  The odor of liquor wafted from his breath and she finally met his gaze. His eyes were bloodshot, his hair rumpled.

  Oh, Mitch. What are you doing to yourself? If only she could help him see that life could be so wonderful. He wante
d love? It was standing right in front of him. She drew in a deep breath and opened her mouth… Her gaze shifted to the football game on his 55-inch flat-screen television. “Who’s winning?” She pushed past him and stood behind his brown leather sofa.

  Mitch shut the door, but didn’t move into the room. “Tennessee. Seven to six.”

  “Which quarter?” Maybe she’d just watch the game first before getting into anything serious. She went to the fridge, helped herself to a beer and took a seat on his couch the way she’d done hundreds of times before.

  Mitch rubbed the back of his neck. “What are you doing here, Hughes?”

  Alex froze, the beer halfway to her lips. He’d never questioned her presence in his place before. Never spoken to her in such a defensive tone.

  She leaned forward and placed the bottle on the coffee table. He was right. They couldn’t pretend everything was okay. Couldn’t go back to the way things were before. “I wanted—” She bit her lip. Just say it, Hughes. Tell him you love him. What’s the worst that can happen? It took all her courage to stand and face him. The words were on the tip of her tongue as she looked up into his baby-blue eyes. What she saw there shut her down. Impatience. Irritation. And a quick glance down the hall.

  So, not only did their last kiss not inspire any deeper feelings for her, but her transformation had been too much for him. He either resented her for the prank, or resented her for becoming a woman in his eyes. Her vision became jittery, her face flamed in humiliation.

  “Never mind.” She bolted for the door. When he didn’t try to stop her, she paused with her hand on the doorknob and looked back at him.

  His gaze met hers but not before she noticed he’d been staring down the hall at his bedroom door. Which—she checked—was shut. Oh. My. God. She strode down to his bedroom.

  “Alex, wait.” He grabbed her arm, but she wrenched it away and opened his door.

  There, in the middle of the room stood a tall, voluptuous blonde in a sequined, strapless showgirl costume.

  Alex glared daggers at Mitch. “But you’re supposed to be—”

  Mitch grimaced.

  “You bastard!” Alex shoved her palms into his chest and knocked him back against the wall.

  “Hughes, it’s not what you th—”

  “Tell it to someone who cares, Casanova.” Alex marched back to the front door, but Mitch shot ahead of her and blocked her path.

  She grabbed his shoulders and tried to shove him out of the way.

  “Maybe I should go, hon.” Alex spun to see the blonde clomping toward them in platform shoes. A long feather tail from the back of the costume swished behind her.

  Alex turned back to glare at Mitch.

  “It’s all right, Svetlana,” Mitch answered, his gaze darting behind Alex and then settling again on her.

  “McCabe.” Alex spoke between gritted teeth, her temper barely in check. “Get out of my way and let me out of this door before I break your gorgeous face.” She reached for the doorknob.

  He grabbed her wrist and had the audacity to grin. “You think my face is gorgeous?”

  That was it. She couldn’t take anymore. Twisting out of his hold, she doubled up her fist and swung, aiming for his nose.

  The blonde screeched.

  Mitch caught Alex’s fist before it made contact. His grin was gone.

  Fury ramped up. Years of frustration obliterated common sense. Alex swung her left.

  Mitch caught that, too, and wrestled her arms behind her back.

  With a grunt, she stomped on his instep.

  But he knew all her moves and jerked his foot out of the way. “Hughes, calm down and let’s talk about this.”

  But she was beyond reason; rage burned like bile in her core. “Screw you!” She struggled to get out of his hold and brought her knee up, right where it would hurt the most.

  Mitch turned his hips at the last second and she hit his pelvic bone. “Goddamn it, Hughes!” He let go of her wrists, bent and caught her around her thighs, and hauled her up and over his shoulder.

  Before Alex could fight free, he swatted her hard on her behind and threw her down onto his sofa. He landed hard on top of her and held her down, grabbing her hands and twining her fingers between his before forcing them up over her head.

  “I think I’ll wait outside, hon. Thank you for everything.” Alex heard the front door click as the blonde shut it behind her.

  SITUATION REPORT—DAY TWENTY-ONE: crazy as hell.

  Mitch stared down at Hughes—Alex. He couldn’t believe she was here. Her chest rose and fell fast with harsh breathing. Her short, silky hair was wild, flying in her eyes and catching on her damp temples. Not a bit of makeup on. And he thought she’d never looked more beautiful. As he watched, her whiskey-colored eyes sparked with fury.

  “Mitch, I swear if you don’t get off me right now—” She arched up, trying to shove him off.

  “Alex! Calm down and listen!” He shook her and she stilled. “Svetlana is my neighbor. That’s all she is, just a neighbor. She locked herself out and we were just waiting on the building manager to bring a locksmith.”

  Alex narrowed her eyes. “And you just happen to be laundering the shirt off your back while she was here?”

  Mitch glanced down at his bare chest and shrugged. “What can I say? I wasn’t dressed when she rang my doorbell.”

  She studied him a second longer. “If everything is so innocent, why hide her in your bedroom?”

  He scoffed. “You have to ask me that after the way you reacted just now?”

  She pursed her lips and let out a hard sigh. “Well, crap.”

  “Too bad you didn’t let me explain before you almost broke my nose.” He grinned.

  “Yeah, that’s not all I almost broke.” She smirked.

  “Nah. I saw that move coming a mile away. I know you too well.”

  The smirk faded from her sweet mouth. “Yeah. You do.”

  Her voice had gone all soft and her words hit Mitch somewhere in his chest.

  He became aware of Alex’s soft body lying beneath his, chest to chest, hip to hip, her legs notched between his. He wanted to kiss those bare lips. He wanted to bury himself inside her and stay until Christmas. This was Hughes he was thinking about. Which was nuts.

  But telling himself that didn’t change the fact that he wanted her.

  But he’d given his word to Jackson. Man, it would chafe his pride to have to admit he’d failed. Not to mention having to pay a forfeit not of his choice. And the last time they’d kissed Alex said they couldn’t be friends anymore. And he couldn’t lose her friendship.

  So, he’d stayed away this week. Giving her space, and him time to figure out what the hell to do. Not that he’d figured anything out…

  Forcing his body to stand down, he eased off her and got to his feet. Then moved to the other side of the room, crossed his arms and leaned against his TV cabinet. “So, what did you come here for?”

  She sat up and propped her elbows on her knees, studying her hands. “You didn’t show up for my pool party today.” A long pause. “And—we’ve been friends for twelve years.” She took another long pause before bringing her gaze up to meet his. “I’m thirty years old, Mitch, and it’s time I take the bull by the horns and—”

  “Don’t tell me you’re marrying that squid you were dating in D.C.”

  She straightened. “Would it bother you if I did?”

  Hell, yeah.

  He made himself shrug. “I guess not. Not as long as you’re happy.”

  She glared daggers at him.

  “What?” Wasn’t that how friends acted?

  “Fine.” She got to her feet and stuck her hands in her back pockets. “We’re getting married next week.”

  “The hell you are!” He pushed off the cabinet and descended on her. “You barely know the guy. I haven’t even met him— What are you grinning about?”

  She held her ground, refusing to retreat. “Thought you said as long as I was happy…?�
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  “That was in the abstract.” He took a couple steps closer until they were nose to nose. “This is for real.” Her lips were a pale pink and as he stared at them, he couldn’t think why he shouldn’t kiss them.

  “It is?” She swallowed, bringing attention to her delicate throat.

  “Is what?” He met her gaze and caught the desire in her eyes. She wanted him, too. Damn it, why did things have to be so complicated between them?

  “You’re not really marrying that jerk, are you?”

  She shook her head. “No.”

  He lowered his head and covered her mouth. She whimpered and opened for him, inviting him in. And he went willingly, probing the hot recesses of her mouth with his tongue until she moaned.

  Her fingers tangled in his hair and held him tight, taking possession of the kiss with wild abandon. Her tongue seemed as determined as his to explore.

  His hands wanted to explore, too. He slipped them beneath her T-shirt and ran them over her smooth skin, tracing her spine and then digging under the waistband of her jeans. His palm felt nothing but the soft flesh of her bottom.

  Sweet mercy, she was wearing a thong. His pulse jumped and his cock hardened. With a moan, he squeezed her naked cheek and pushed his erection into her stomach.

  He had to see Alex in only her underwear. Now. “Alex,” he whispered as he kissed down her jaw to her neck. “Help me.” He was frantically trying to unbutton and unzip her jeans.

  As she took over he grabbed the hem of her T-shirt and slid it up over her bra. Aw, jeez, it was a purple lacy thing. He mouthed the plump mounds above her bra line, eliciting a gasp from Alex as she wiggled her jeans down her legs and kicked her shoes off.

  Slowly, he let his gaze wander down her body to the purple little triangle covering her obviously shaved pussy. And there it was. The tattoo she’d told him she had. Just above the line of her thong on her left side, a tiny navy-and-silver Air Force insignia. He grinned. Only Hughes.

  Inhaling her musky scent, he rubbed his fingers over the fabric, delving between her folds and circling her clit. The material was soaked through. He closed his eyes to get himself under control before he reverted to Neanderthal tactics. “Alex,” he murmured. She made soft mewling noises and pushed her hips forward.