by Anne Marsh
Daeg tugged her in his direction. “X marks the spot?”
“Sure and why don’t you all just pee on her yard?” Carla quipped, eliciting a chorus of groans.
Mia hopped into the pool, taking Piper’s abandoned spot. Screw it. She didn’t care if Ben Franklin had just used it as a water fountain. She was pretty certain there wasn’t a sink in her house Sam hadn’t drunk out of. Maybe the cold water would cool down her feelings for Tag.
Or not.
Keep him.
Like he’d read her mind, he set down his box of stuff and headed her way, pulling his T-shirt over his head. A pair of swim trunks hung temptingly low on his hips. She looked up—reluctantly—and over the hard lines of his abdomen. He grinned down at her, a sensual smile tugging at his lips. “Budge up.”
Her wading pool was hardly built for two. “No room at the inn. The ocean is to your right about a hundred yards. Try there.”
“Uh-huh.” He scooped her up into his arms before she could protest and dropped down into the pool, cradling her against his chest. “Jesus. That’s cold.”
“Baby.”
In retaliation, he dropped her into the water, but, since she ended up cradled between his legs, his arms wrapped around her middle while their friends catcalled and hollered encouragement, his penance was no penance at all. In fact, she rather suspected her heart was melting faster than her daiquiri in the sun.
13
THE FERRY BACK to Discovery Island left in an hour. Tag had already bought the ticket and parked his truck in the growing queue. All he had to do now was pick up a ring before it was time to board. Conveniently, the drugstore nearest the pier had trays of inexpensive rings in the front window. The rings were cheerful and packed plenty of glitter.
He fought the urge to look over his shoulder like 007. The odds of anyone watching him duck into the drugstore for a fake ring were low. He could be in and out in under ten minutes, and it wasn’t like they had a real engagement. After all, she’d told him to buy cubic zirconia.
Doing anything else was stupid.
But they had something. He wasn’t sure what that something was, and he only had a few weeks left to explore it. He was an idiot, but he looked down the street anyhow, and, sure enough, the jewelry store was right where he’d noticed it when he’d driven his truck off the ferry earlier today.
There was really only one reason to buy a ring for a woman: because he wanted to. Despite their Discovery Island peanut gallery, the ring was for her. For them. But she’d wanted to keep it casual. They were friends with benefits, she’d said.
He just hadn’t expected his friendship with Mia to come with quite so many benefits. She was really hot in bed, although he’d known that for years. She was also funny and smart. She gave as good as she got, and he liked spending time with her. The fact he didn’t mind picking out a ring for her said it all. She was more than just a friend or a benefit.
Damn it.
He should go inside the drugstore, grab the biggest, cheapest cubic zirconia ring he could find, and hightail it back to Discovery Island. They’d have a good laugh showing it off to curious onlookers and play it up to the hilt fielding questions about price tags and size compensation issues. His reflection grinned at him looking like a crazy man.
Except...
He wanted to do something nice for her, even if she didn’t know about it. His feet were on board with the plan, turning and taking him down the sidewalk to the jeweler’s. He pushed open the door and stepped inside. Jesus. Not his kind of place. The shop was dull of froufrou glass cases and little velvet footstool things. Or maybe they were chairs. Hell if he knew.
The saleslady was already moving forward. “Can I help you?”
Yeah. I need a new brain.
“I need a ring,” he said. “An engagement ring.”
She beamed at him. “Are you surprising someone?”
She had no idea.
“You bet,” he said gruffly.
The saleslady nodded as if he was Solomon the Wise and pointed him to one of those footstool things. “Sit.”
Okay. So it was a chair. He sat.
After ten minutes of looking at rings and pretending he had a clue, he was in trouble. Who knew engagement rings came in anything but small, medium or large? He could disassemble an M16 in seconds and fly a Blackhawk through a shit storm. The difference between marquise-cut and princess-cut, however, was beyond him.
He grabbed his phone and thumbed through his contacts. He needed a female. One with engagement ring experience and an inside line on Mia’s tastes. Maybe Piper could be his lifeline.
What does Mia like?
Then, in case Piper thought he was simply picking up sandwiches and not positively dying here, he added, in rings.
He poked a few rings while he waited for her response.
When it came, it was suitably enthusiastic.
Are you doing it? For real??!!!
I want to get her something nice, he texted back, trying to be subtle.
The saleslady pulled another tray. The rings looked ridiculous in the palm of his hand, all delicate and ethereal. He had no idea how Daeg had managed this. Too bad he didn’t have a family heirloom he could pop out, but he was damned certain his mom was still attached to her rings, even though his dad hadn’t been the biggest prize.
“It’s hard to choose, isn’t it?” The clerk gave him a sympathetic smile. “Just look for the one that winks at you.”
He had no idea what she was talking about.
Classy, Piper texted. Simple. Elegant. Pick one.
A ring caught his eye, and he tugged it carefully out of its velvet nest. Some kind of pinky-gold, it had two rows of smaller diamonds like beads on a bracelet surrounding a big, round stone. He could imagine this ring on Mia’s finger. It was warm and beautiful, and it...winked?
“This one. I’ll take this one.”
* * *
MIA HAD EXCELLENT REFLEXES. She caught the box Tag tossed her one-handed, without looking up from some spreadsheet she was working on. She’d brought order to the office, and he had a feeling she’d moved on to ordering him. Strangely, he didn’t mind.
“You throw things at me, sailor, and I have good grounds for a hostile workplace lawsuit.”
“It’s a gift, not a hand grenade.”
That made her look. “I know it’s not my birthday. I don’t think I’ve overlooked any major gift-giving holidays. Is it national secretary appreciation day?”
“Open it,” he said gruffly.
She stuck her tongue out at him, which just made him think about other things she could do with it. Things like kissing. It was all too easy to imagine her pretty pink tongue tormenting him. Like she’d done last night, after her impromptu pool party had broken up and he’d taken her back inside. The soldiers he’d fought with could drink a bar dry. Not Mia. Two of those frozen girly drinks, and she’d been buzzed. She was cute when she wasn’t quite sober.
He knew the minute she opened the box, because she froze and made a little noise he’d definitely never heard before. He didn’t know why he cared if she liked his ring or not. It wasn’t like they were really engaged, so he didn’t need to figure out her ring size or whether she was more traditional or modern. Hell. He hadn’t even known there were more than three kinds of engagement rings before his off-island visit had taught him rings came in all sorts of shapes and sizes.
The ring in the box was definitely a large and had cost him enough money to purchase a small car. A really, really good small car. But he’d looked at it in the jeweler’s case and imagined it on her finger. She deserved a real ring, even if she didn’t know it.
“It’s...nice.” She looked from the ring to him. “You’re not going down on one knee? Isn’t that how this is supposed to work?”
/>
“You didn’t tell me getting down on bended knee was part of the deal,” he said. They had a fake engagement. If he’d gone and chosen a real ring, that was on him. When his phone buzzed, alerting him to a new email, he was glad for the excuse to look away as she took care of business, sliding the ring onto the appropriate finger.
His CO had sent him a status update. The team was meeting in San Diego in a week and a half. A week after that, they’d be deploying to South America.
“Thanks.” Mia gazed down at the ring adorning her finger and then closed the box, tucking it inside that massive thing she called a bag. He could have packed the contents of his deployment duffel in there. He had no idea what it was with women and their purses, but Dani always had a similar oversize suitcase hanging off her shoulder.
“No problem.” There was a moment of awkward silence, as if they both knew engagement rings required some kind of conversation. Probably he should have hit Cal and Daeg up for tips, although the pair would have teased him for the next twenty years or so.
“So,” she said, pointing to his phone. The diamonds in her ring flashed, and he almost thought she was sneaking peeks at the band. But that wasn’t Mia. Other than the handbag and the terrible taste in cocktails, she didn’t have a girly bone in her body. That was why this thing between them worked so well. “Work crisis?”
“My CO.” He didn’t want to go into the details, but, fortunately, Mia already knew the drill. After all, she’d been the one shipping out for years.
“Pickup details?”
“Yeah.” He could practically hear an invisible clock ticking down his remaining hours. Whatever this thing was with Mia, it was almost over. His replacement for Deep Dive would be arriving any day now, and he’d all but wrapped it up here. Restless, he got up and wandered out to the alley, where Daeg was rinsing off dive equipment. He had no idea what Cal was doing, but it seemed to involve leaning against the wall, watching Daeg work.
Cal looked up when he came out. “We got your replacement lined up. Sam Black will be here by Monday.”
He’d bring the guy up to speed, then he’d turn in his keys to his landlord and board the ferry. Packing would be a ten-minute job, since he’d pretty much been living out of a single duffel bag.
Daeg dropped a load of fins into the tank. “Did Dr. Dolittle find homes for all of his animal companions?”
Cal’s mother was taking the rabbit, and one of his sisters had fallen for Beauregard. Love at first sight, or so she’d claimed. The cat would be in good hands. The dogs...well, it turned out that Dani had a soft spot for them.
He flipped Daeg a two-fingered salute. “Congratulations. You’re now the proud papa of a boxer and a Chihuahua.”
In answer, Daeg turned the hose on him. “You need to stop rescuing so many damned animals or you’re never leaving the island.”
“People,” Cal said. “That’s his real problem. He rescues them, and then, two legs or four legs, he gets attached.”
“Duly noted.” Although rescuing Mia hadn’t exactly been a hardship.
“So, you’re good to go,” Cal said.
Right. Good to go. His CO had tapped him for mission-critical work. Had offered him a chance to make a damned difference in the world. Mia knew where they stood, and he’d shipped out dozens of times before. This time shouldn’t have felt any different. Shouldn’t have been different.
“Yeah. I’m ready to hit the road,” he agreed. Funny, though, how his head knew leaving was the right thing to do, but his heart hadn’t quite gotten the message.
14
SOMEONE HAD ORDERED Tag a stack of extremely sexy “Billionaire Boss” books. Although Cal and Daeg had enjoyed the joke—and he now knew better than to open any package he hadn’t ordered himself—Tag was pretty sure he was sleeping with the culprit. He’d taken them back to his place, flipped through the first pages of one, and somehow the next thing he’d known, it had been dark o’clock outside and Beauregard was acting like he hadn’t been fed in at least one century. Or possibly two.
To show his appreciation, he’d marked the best spots with Post-it notes and considered depositing the stack on Mia’s desk. Turnabout was only fair, after all. But...holy. Hell. Reading those steamy page-turners had definitely broadened his horizons, which was undoubtedly the reason he was standing on her front porch with the books tucked under his arm.
“You sent me a present,” he said, when she opened the door. From somewhere inside the cottage, he heard the sound of running water. Apparently, he’d interrupted her en route to the shower.
“I might have and I’m glad to see you, too.” She smiled up at him, and he looked down at her mouth. The sweet curve of her throat. Her breasts where they peeked out above her black tank top. He’d seen her naked more than once, but he couldn’t imagine the day he’d get tired of unwrapping her.
“Uh-huh.” He dropped a quick, hard kiss on her mouth. “If you confess, I’ll go easier on you.”
When he released the stack of books into her arms, she grinned and stepped away from the door so he could come in.
“I thought that since we’d established you’re only the boss of me in the office, I’d give you some food for thought. You should see my Cosmopolitan collection.”
He couldn’t wait. He loved it when she was wicked.
“If you stayed here, you could read my magazines.” She waggled her eyebrows at him. Or tried.
“You sent me romance novels,” he growled.
She plucked a book off the top of the stack in her arms and waved it at him. The pages bristled with Post-it notes. “I sure did, but you’re the one who read them. I didn’t force you to do that.”
“I was curious. I marked a few ideas to try out.” He advanced on her until her back was pressed against the wall and his forehead rested against hers, the books trapped between them.
“Were you planning on tying me up?” She sounded...curious.
Now that she mentioned it? Yeah. He was.
“I interrupted your shower.”
She blinked, confused by his change of topic. “The water heater’s temperamental. It takes a while for the water to heat up. I was waiting it out.”
He could imagine a dozen different ways to fill the time. “It would be a shame to waste water.”
A grin curved her mouth. “You bet.”
She slipped out of his hold, setting the books down on the floor before heading for the bathroom down the hall. Following her was no hardship at all because her soft cotton shorts hugged her butt, the skimpy fabric riding up with each step she took. Bare legs, bare feet. He couldn’t wait to bare her completely.
When she reached the bathroom door and opened it, steam billowed out, so the heat must have finally kicked in. He stepped in behind her, closing the door and shutting them both into a hazy cocoon.
“I’m only asking one question tonight.”
“Ask away.” She bent over and pulled a stack of towels off a shelf.
“Do you trust me?”
* * *
THE FUNNY THING WAS, Mia did. With her body, at least. The stuff going on in her head was all hers. He turned her on—and he made her laugh. She’d never expected to find both sex and friendship in the same sexy, Tag-shaped package.
“Yes.” She dropped a towel into his hands. “I do.”
“Good,” he said.
“Do I need a safe word? Are we having kinky sex?” She’d have to choose her books very carefully next time.
His finger pressing against her lips had to be the sexiest turn-on ever. “Shhhh. Trust me to make this good for you. Let me give you what you need tonight.”
There was that word again. Need.
“I’m leaving soon,” he said huskily, his thumb caressing her cheek. “I know you don’t want a real guy in your life r
ight now. I’m the practice guy.”
He knew a whole lot of things, probably more than she did. Funny how trust felt like a much bigger word than five letters—and like exactly the right word to describe her feelings for Tag. How had her practice fling become so much more, so quickly?
His jeans did nothing to hide his erection. The thick, solid length of him was reassuringly familiar. She loved how she felt around him. Not just sexy and aroused—although she definitely appreciated those feelings—but safe. Desired. Wanted. She grabbed his butt, pulling him closer.
“If you came over here to have sex, let’s get started already.”
“We’re doing this my way.” He reached over and turned off the water. The steam filling the bathroom softened the rugged angles of his face, covering everything with a white haze. “And I’m taking you against the countertop.”
“Here?” Her bathroom wasn’t large, containing a shower, a vanity and a large wall-mounted mirror. It was a perfectly ordinary counter, too, with all her things lined up in a neat row. Toothbrush. Dental floss. Mouthwash. On the sexy scale, her bathroom ranked somewhere between a one and a two.
“Now.” His hand pressed against the small of her back, guiding her forward. Okay, she’d play.
“Turn around. Bend over.”
When she hesitated, he eased her legs apart. Not roughly, but reminding her he was in charge now. Because she’d agreed to trust him and to play this game with him. The marble countertop was slick and cool beneath her fingertips, but the smooth surface gave her nowhere to hold, so she flattened her palms against the marble and waited.
He didn’t disappoint. He set a condom on the counter and stepped up behind her. The rasp of denim against her bare thighs was followed by the hardness of his thighs as he shoved his jeans and his boxers down. He ran his fingers down her spine, tracing the dimpled indentation above her butt, and she shivered. God, if he got her this worked up from such a simple touch, what would happen when he touched her elsewhere?
