Boyfriend's Brother

by ML Skye

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Note from the Publisher

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  About the Author

  Titles by ML Skye

  Reviews

  A Silver Publishing Book

  Boyfriend's Brother

  Copyright © 2014 by ML Skye

  E-book ISBN: 9781622321339

  First E-book Publication: March 2014

  Cover design by Reese Dante

  Editor: Jason Huffman

  Logo copyright © 2012 by Silver Publishing

  Licensed material is being used for illustrative purposes only. Any person depicted in the licensed material is a model.

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying or by way of any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher. Payment for this title grants the purchaser the right to download and read this file on any/all personal electronic devices and to maintain backup copies of the file for the purchaser's personal use. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this work is illegal. File sharing, with or without payment, is an international crime, prosecuted by the United States government, in partnership with Interpol. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is punishable by seizure of computers, up to five years in federal prison, and a fine of $250,000 per offense.

  All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

  If you see "free shares" offered or cut-rate sales of this title on pirate sites, you can report the offending entry to copyright@spsilverpublishing.com.

  This book is written in US English.

  PUBLISHER

  18530 Mack Avenue, Box 253

  Grosse Pointe Farms, MI 48236

  www.SPSilverPublishing.com

  Note from the Publisher

  Dear Reader,

  Thank you for your purchase of this title. The authors and staff of Silver Publishing hope you enjoy this read and that we will have a long and happy association together.

  Please remember that the only money authors make from writing comes from the sales of their books. If you like their work, spread the word and tell others about the books, but please refrain from sharing this book in any form. Authors depend on sales and sales only to support their families.

  If you see "free shares" offered or cut-rate sales of this title on pirate sites, you can report the offending entry to copyright@spsilverpublishing.com.

  Thank you for not pirating our titles.

  Lodewyk Deysel

  Publisher

  Silver Publishing

  http://www.spsilverpublishing.com

  Dedication

  To Tara, Marissa, and Lisa—your feedback proved invaluable.

  Chapter One

  Chloe Timmons stretched, then snuggled back down under the covers. She had one whole week of freedom during the semester break and didn't have to get up at half past ugly o'clock.

  One of seven flight instructors who taught wet behind the ears cadets the ins and outs of flying—basic aeronautics, combat maneuvers, advanced weaponry assaults—she'd just finished putting twenty-five newbs through the wringer.

  And most of them had passed muster.

  She smiled when her boyfriend, Marcus McIvey, spooned up behind her. A marine first sergeant, he usually took leave when she had downtime, and they went off somewhere that had sand, sun, and cool, frothy drinks. At least, they had over the last two years.

  Marc brushed his lips over her shoulder. "Morning, Chlo. Gonna sleep in today?"

  She made a noncommittal sound, not quite ready to have coherent conversation yet.

  Marc dropped a kiss on her temple, then eased out of bed. "Go ahead if you want, but I need to get up."

  Chloe blinked and yawned. She flopped over on her back and observed Marc pulling open drawers and throwing clothes in his rucksack.

  Fully awake, she propped up on her elbows. "Are we going somewhere?" They hadn't made plans yet, but it would be just like Marc to drop and go spur of the moment on some excursion. "Did you sign us up for some kind of adventure? And forget to tell me?"

  He glanced over his shoulder. "What? Um, no." He strode to the bathroom and grabbed his shower kit. "I gotta head home."

  Chloe sat up straight. "Home? Did something happen?" Marc almost never visited the place he grew up, unless…"Is Jace there?" A family reunion would definitely draw Marc home.

  With three men in the military, the McIveys didn't have a chance to be in the same place at the same time very often.

  Marc's head swiveled around. "What? No, I don't think so. Last time I talked to my brother, he was still on board the Nimichellen." He chuckled. "But you know that, Chlo. You answered the phone."

  She remembered. She ended up talking to Jace longer than Marc had. Jace's squadron got tagged to roll out the new fighters, and he filled Chloe in on some of the big changes.

  She threw the covers off and scooted to the edge of the bed. "So what's up then?" She bit back a yawn. "And when do I need to be ready?" From the looks of it, Marc planned to leave right away.

  Marc stopped packing. "You don't. I, uh, kind of planned to go solo." He rearranged the items in his pack and wouldn't look her way.

  She started to rise, then sank back down to the mattress. "You don't want me to go?" But she had the whole week off. "It's semester break, Marc. I've got the time." Chloe wondered if she'd woken up in an alternate universe.

  Marc brought his bag over and sat on the edge of the bed. "I know, Chlo, but we didn't make any plans." He zipped up the rucksack. "I just need to go back. See Mom, and well, you know, just spend some time there."

  Shit. The way he hedged about answering had her mind spinning.

  A terrible thought hit her. "Are your parents… you know…" She let the question trail off, hoping the elder McIveys weren't having a rough patch.

  Marc laughed. "No, Chloe. Mom and Dad are fine. He's still off-planet, which means they can't drive each other nuts."

  Okay, so Jace and Bertram weren't around, why didn't Marc want her to come along? Chloe didn't mind so much, they hadn't made official plans yet, but the way he spoke, sort of mysterious and cagey, had her senses tingling—Marc never just dropped by to hang out with Tricia McIvey. There had to be more to him going back than just visiting his mom.

  Chloe pushed for an answer. "Marc, did I do something to piss your mom off the last time we went back?" She couldn't recall anything, and they hadn't stayed very long.

  Marc's eyes widened. "No! Of course not. My mom loves you." He stood up and started dressing.

  Chloe heaved a sigh. "Then what the hell, Marc? Why don't you want me to come along?"

  He fastened his pants. "Look, it's not that I don't want you to come with me. I just have… something I want to do, and I need to do it alone."

  Chloe frowned. "That's the worst non-answer ever, Marc."

  He yanked his T-shirt over his head. "Yeah, well, blame it on Winnow."

  Chloe opened her mouth to make a smart ass retort, but Marc held a hand up.

  He shook his head back and forth. "Uh uh. I'm not saying anything else." He made his way over a
nd sat down beside her. "I'm going home. Nothing's wrong." He grabbed her hand. "I gotta ask my mom for a big favor, and it's kind of a surprise for you." He leaned in and snagged her lips. "Okay?"

  Her brain tried to play catch-up, but Chloe nodded. What else could she do?

  Marc bolted off the bed and grabbed his pack. "Great. I gotta run. Winnow's gonna be here in five." He cupped her face with one hand. "I love you, Chlo." He pressed a kiss to her forehead and double-timed it to the door, slamming it on his way out, no doubt to wait for Lance Winnow.

  You can blame it on Winnow.

  What the hell did Lance—shit! The pieces all clicked into place, and Chloe had a very good idea what Marc needed to ask his mom. Were things about to get more serious with their relationship?

  Chloe couldn't decide how she felt, if they were.

  She and Marc had been together for a couple of years, were established in their positions. Logic followed they'd look at taking things to the next level. The last year had been crazy full of his platoon members getting hitched—Lance being the latest about two months ago. Only Marc and one other guy, a young private, hadn't succumbed yet.

  Marc didn't like being left out of anything.

  Her big question? Were they ready for matrimony?

  Chloe loved Marc, but lately it always felt like waiting for something. For him to grow up… to realize life didn't hand over whatever he wanted exactly when he wanted it… to ask her about more than work or what she wanted to do for dinner.

  But he never did.

  It would be just like Marc to spring something like marriage on her and expect a 'yes' answer two seconds later—without ever broaching the topic prior to asking. He'd take it for granted her timetable matched his—and hell, maybe it did—but they'd never discussed it.

  She didn't have the greatest record for planning the future or doing the relationship thing. Marc being the first truly steady guy she'd let stick around longer than a couple of months. They got along, had fun, and generally agreed on things, but somewhere in her head and heart, Chloe figured talking about important life decisions should kind of be a requirement to build something to last.

  Not that she could blame everything on Marc, she could just as easily pursue an in-depth conversation but usually chose not to.

  Maybe she didn't think she'd like the outcome. Marc didn't talk much… he did things. Spur of the moment, off the wall, out of the blue.

  And she normally enjoyed it.

  But would she still love it in ten years? Fifteen? Twenty?

  Gah!

  Then again, she might be freaking out over nothing.

  She didn't want to think about it. Not over the weekend. If Marc came back and popped the question, she'd figure it out then.

  Since Marc kind of left her high and dry, she needed to make a plan and do something. She hated boredom. But first, coffee sounded damned good.

  * * * *

  Jason McIvey stretched and buried his head under the pillow on the bed. Five more minutes, then he'd get up, grab a shower, and meet the guys in his squadron for breakfast before boarding their transport.

  Until then, he could pretend he didn't have a huge decision to make and that he enjoyed the sometimes stupid and lame tripe that went along with flying—because he'd always love being in a cockpit.

  A cool hand settled on his hip, and his eyes blinked open. Shit. Last night's 'hangar' hadn't left yet. He winced at the crude name his fellow test pilots gave the bevy of females that always came cleared for action—ready, willing, and able to accommodate any of the guys—especially if the men looked hard and hot. The names and faces might change, but the women never failed to appear whenever a civilian air show rolled through their towns.

  Bitta… Bitsy… hell, he couldn't remember the woman's name, probably wanted a repeat performance from the previous night. Her fingers trailed up and down Jason's thigh, and he scrambled for an excuse to make a quick exit. Would she believe he'd choose grabbing something to eat over sex? Did he care if she didn't?

  Not really, no. A harsh reality he'd been avoiding for the past couple of months.

  The fact Jason never lacked for a companion didn't mean he couldn't be lonely. Not one of the women he'd met recently ever stayed around long after the sun came up—unless they wanted another round. And none of them were interested in more than getting down to business as soon as possible. He almost craved making a connection on a deeper level with someone.

  The woman pressed her lips to his shoulder, then purred in his ear, "Do you have another condom?" Her palm covered his ass cheek, and she lightly squeezed.

  Geez, if he made a buck every time he got asked that question, he'd own a small planet. Rolling over onto his back, he tried to get excited about the physical stimulation when Britta—he finally remembered her name—reached down to grasp his flaccid dick in her hand. His cock had just become semi-erect when a rapid series of three knocks sounded on his door.

  "Jace! You in there? Get moving, man. Our flight got moved up," Paul Jaginski called from outside.

  Leave it to Jagger to provide a flawless exit strategy. Jace would thank Jag if it didn't mean explaining why he'd even want one.

  Tossing a slight smile toward Britta, Jace gently extricated himself from her clutches and slid out of bed. "Sorry, looks like I gotta get going." He gathered up his fatigues and headed for the bathroom. "Mind if I grab a shower first?"

  Her lips curved in a sensual smile. "I could always join you." She made a show of letting the sheet fall to expose her breasts before scooting to the edge of the mattress.

  Jace waved her off. "Better not. I'll be lucky to make the transport as it is."

  Britta pouted, but got up and started searching for her clothes. "I guess I'll head out then." She glanced up. "I had a great time last night. You were fantastic."

  Jace nodded before entering the bath. "Yeah, you, too." He closed the door, turned the water on, and stepped under the cold spray.

  When the temperature finally warmed, he'd figured out most of his problem. A bored restlessness had sunk its teeth into him. The itchy feeling made sense—he had some serious thinking to do—but Jace hadn't had the time to really focus.

  Thank God he'd be headed for home. Well, sort of home. He had an apartment close to the base of their next air show.

  Maybe he'd take some time to relax and contemplate things before heading back to the Nimichellen. He could be assured the quiet time he realized he needed. He could beg off carousing for at least one night, right?

  He finished his shower and dried off, deciding not to examine his relief over missing a night with the guys too closely.

  Yet.

  Chapter Two

  Chloe woke up groggy. It took her a minute to remember she'd secured guest quarters on base. Not much of a makeshift plan for a getaway, but within two hours of Marc leaving, the walls started closing in on her and she had to get out of the flat. She drove herself kind of mad wondering if she'd have to choose between being a girlfriend or a wife.

  A couple of quick calls later, she scored a pass for the air show and decided to stay on base. Anything to get out of the space she shared with Marc and forget about the reasons he might have left. She shoved away the thought she even felt it necessary.

  Rolling over, Chloe groaned. She regretted staying at the bar until final call the night before. She vaguely remembered having a cab drop her off at the entrance closest to the guest quarters, and after flashing her ID, she half-walked, half-sloshed the two blocks to her room and fell into bed to sleep off the bender.

  Getting up, she made and downed a pot of coffee, but an edgy mood replaced the hazy fog and she hoped it would improve throughout the day. At least she had a bright spot—watching the test flights and possibly taking a spin in the simulator after the show.

  She would especially enjoy the sim run and hoped she'd score the highest of the group—always a challenge considering the control panels would be a mock-up for the soon-to-be debuted crafts.


  When she exited quarters to head for the stands, she thought she caught a glimpse of Marc's brother, Jason, rounding the corner with a group of pilots. Her pulse leapt, not because she felt oddly attracted to him—even though she did—but because she hadn't expected to see Jace.

  It probably hadn't been him. She and Marc just talked about Jace's billet aboard the Nimichellen. Bumping into him would be completely ironic, but he often got pulled for test flights, so who knew? She'd find out soon enough.

  She almost hoped she hadn't seen Marc's brother. As much as she got along with Jason, she had no desire to explain why she ended up by herself for the weekend—likely because she didn't quite know the reason.

  She shook off the weird vibe and headed for the airfield.

  * * * *

  Jace reported for duty at 0600, feeling less out of sorts than the previous morning when he'd woken up next to the nubile Britta. Jason appreciated the quiet night at his apartment, even if he had spent most of it not thinking about what he should and vegging in front of the vid screen.

  "Yo, Jace. You missed the best pie on the planet last night at the Flying Sauce." Doug Euceks, better known as Deuce, rubbed his belly. "I might need the barf bag when we start pulling Gs out there."

  Jace chuckled. "As if one would help." He narrowed his eyes. "You're not flying with me, are you?"

  Deuce laughed. "You betcha. And I'm not serious. I took it easy last night so I can go full tilt when we go paint the town after the show." Deuce cocked his head. "Are you in tonight, or out?"

  Jace shrugged. "Depends. Did Jagger manage to keep his yap shut, or will we be fighting off clingy females all night?"

  Deuce cracked a grin. "I don't know about you, but Jag's big mouth has nothing to do with how many pretty ladies I have to beat back with a stick." He sobered. "Nah, man. Jag wants to honor tradition and do the rounds. This is our home base, after all."