by Tawny Weber
Did she tell him she’d quit her job at the bakery and accepted the internship in San Diego at the Culinary Institute?
Did she vow undying love?
“I walked away from the challenge,” Zane said.
“Oh.” Vivian bit her lip. “Is it crazy to say that’s one of the most romantic things I’ve ever heard?”
Zane laughed.
“No crazier than it was for me to keep trying to prove a pointless point.” He gave a head shake and a self-derisive grimace. “It was ridiculous of me to put something that didn’t matter to me over someone who does.”
Oh. Vivian’s heart finished the fall, tumbling right there at his feet. She wanted to grab on to now and run with it, but she had to put the truth out there.
“I don’t want you to think I’m chasing after you or anything. But I am moving to California. I was offered the internship—”
Before she could finish what was feeling like a confession, Zane had let out a loud whoop. He grabbed her waist and swung her around in a circle.
“I knew you could do it. I told you could kick sexy cake butt.”
“You did say that. And you were right. I was afraid to take that final step,” she admitted. “As much as I talk a good game, a part of me is still the shy little girl who wants to hide in the corner because she’s afraid someone is going to point out that she doesn’t belong at the party with the cool kids.”
“I guess that means I’m one of the cool kids?”
“As one of the Bad Boy Bennett brothers, you are the king of the cool kids.” To back up her point, she gestured to one of the poster-sized framed portraits propped on a tripod just inside the glass doors. “Look at you. All sexy and heroic in your uniform.”
Zane glanced over, grimaced and shook his head.
“That’s Xander.”
“What?” Horrified, Vivian started over to take a closer look. She only needed one step and a glance at the grin on Zane’s face to know he was teasing.
“Kidding. That’s me,” he said, laughing. “You know, it’s crazy. Xander and I aren’t identical, but half the people out there can’t tell us apart.”
“Is Xander as addicted to challenges as you are?” she wondered as she saw Quinn step into the ballroom looking like a prom queen.
“I wouldn’t say addicted.”
Uh-huh. Vivian’s mouth pursed in a surprised O before she pressed her lips together to hide her smile.
“What would you say if he won the latest one?”
After giving her one long, narrow look, Zane glanced over his shoulder just in time to see his brother kissing Quinn. His grin was all the answer Vivian needed.
“I’d say go, Xander,” he said, turning back to give Vivian an intense look. “But I’m not a sore loser. It’s not the winning that really matters. It’s just that I thrive on challenges. On pushing myself and striving to be stronger. That’s part of what’s made me a SEAL.”
“No.” Vivian shook her head. “What makes you a SEAL is your dedication. Your talent. Your determination and your skill. That’s who you are, Zane. It’s who you’ve always been.”
“So no more challenges?”
“Well, no more that involve other women,” she said with a look that said that should be obvious. “But if the intense demands of being a SEAL aren’t enough for you, I wrote down a few dozen ideas to challenge you with. Some involve frosting, two involve ice and there might be a few that require special toys.”
Vivian felt all her nerves disappear as Zane’s laughter washed over her.
“So about that fall you mentioned the other night,” he murmured.
Uh-oh, here comes the nerves again. Vivian tried to swallow but her mouth was too dry.
“About that. I know it’s too soon. I know it’s crazy.”
“I love you, Vivian.”
“Oh.” She blinked. “Oh, man. I so love you, too.”
Sliding his hands into her hair, he took her mouth in a kiss hot enough to turn her knees into mush. Vivian had to grab on to his shoulders to keep from sinking to the ground. And, better yet, to keep from pulling him down on top of her.
“You’re sure about moving to California?” he asked quietly, his fingers sliding through her hair, soothing her with each caress. “It’s going to be a big change.”
“It’ll be a big change and there will be big risks,” Vivian acknowledged, laying her head on his shoulder as she glanced back into the ballroom. “There’s so much that I’ll miss. The people. The comfort of working in a place I really like and know I’m good at. And, I suppose, the safety of it all.”
Nerves danced in her belly, gyrating back and forth between excitement and terror. She gave it a second to decide which was stronger, then lifted her head to meet Zane’s eyes.
“But you know what? Whatever happens, I’m ready for it. I’m excited to dive in and do the work to make my dreams come true.”
“And me?”
“I’m even more excited to dive in and do you,” she teased, her fingers twining together behind his neck as Zane took her mouth in a kiss made for a romance novel.
* * * * *
ALL IN
Beth Andrews
Dear Reader,
I first met New York Times bestselling author Tawny Weber online fifteen years ago when we were both unpublished writers seeking our first sales. Deciding to become critique partners, we emailed each other often, but it wasn’t until we met face-to-face at RWA’s national conference in Dallas over two years later that we really clicked. Right then and there, a friendship was born!
Despite the many, many miles between us (2,639 miles to be exact, but who’s counting?) we became the best of friends, and I honestly couldn’t imagine my life without her. Throughout the years we’ve read and critiqued each other’s work, brainstormed ideas for stories and helped each other with career planning. So when the opportunity to actually write a book together arrived, I jumped at the chance.
I’m so glad I did. I had such fun writing All In and I know One Night with a SEAL will always hold a special place in my heart because Tawny and I created it together.
I hope you enjoy Xander and Quinn’s stories. And if you can’t get enough of those sexy SEALs (and let’s be honest, who can?) don’t forget to check out Team Poseidon in Tawny’s new SEAL Brotherhood series, published by HQN Books.
Please visit my website, bethandrews.net, to check out all my titles, or drop me a line at [email protected]. I’d love to hear from you.
Happy reading!
Beth Andrews
Tawny—this one’s for you!
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
1
“LOOKING FOR TROUBLE, SAILOR?”
The husky female voice somehow floated above the din of Myer’s Pub, rising above the conversations and laughter, the sharp crack of pool balls and even the thumping bass of the rock song blaring from the corner jukebox.
Then again, Xander Bennett was a SEAL, one of the military’s elite. He’d been trained to notice what others missed. To be alert, always, and so in tune with his surroundings, he could predict what was going to happen before it occurred.
Or maybe it was because when it came to Quinn Oswald, he’d always been like a goddamn lapdog, hyperaware of where she was, what she was doing, and pathetically eager to be noticed, to be given any scrap of attention.
He
turned, kept the move slow and easy, his expression clear. He’d known she was here. His sister, Kerri, had told him Quinn was back in their hometown and working at Myer’s. Plus, it’d been years—ten to be exact—since high school and his deeply hidden, long-seated infatuation with her. Seeing her now in this dim, cramped bar, being close enough to touch her, to breathe in her scent, shouldn’t affect him.
And it sure as hell shouldn’t feel like he’d taken the butt end of an AK-47 to the chest.
Then again, she’d always had the ability to steal his breath.
He dropped his gaze, took his time working his way from her high-heeled, short boots, up long, shapely legs encased in tight denim, over rounded hips and a narrow waist. Her black tank top ended at her belly button, baring two inches of flat stomach, before clinging to her ample breasts, the wide straps showing off her tanned shoulders and long neck.
And then he reached her face. Quinn Oswald had only improved with age.
Damn her.
She’d cut her hair. No longer did it fall to the middle of her back, but swung above her shoulders, the dark tresses a sharp contrast to the blue of her eyes. Her face had narrowed somewhat, making her high cheekbones more prominent, her mouth fuller.
Christ, but he used to fantasize about that mouth. About those lips wrapped around him.
His body stirred and as he watched, Quinn smiled, slow and confident. A woman certain in her ability to bring a man to his knees. A woman who knew what a man thought about when he looked at her. What he wanted.
Shit.
He held her gaze. “Actually, it’s Lieutenant. And I don’t look for trouble.”
“No,” she said, thoughtfully, that knowing smile still playing on her lips. “You wouldn’t. Lieutenant.”
Xander narrowed his eyes. What the hell did that mean?
“But your brother,” she continued, lifting her chin toward the far corner of the bar. “Now, he’s a different story, isn’t he?”
He turned. Zane, his fraternal twin, sat with his back against the wall—all the better to protect himself and keep an eye on everything going on—nursing a beer and bullshitting with a couple of guys from high school. Catching Xander’s eye, Zane grinned and tipped his beer bottle in greeting.
Xander inclined his head in reply, then faced Quinn again. Zane, too, was a SEAL, but he was based out of Coronado while Xander was in Virginia. For the past ten years, family reunions were few and far between. And while getting a chance to spend some time with Zane—and the rest of their family—was the main reason he’d agreed to attend their class reunion, he was in no hurry to leave Quinn’s company.
“Zane doesn’t look for trouble, either,” Xander said.
“He doesn’t have to,” she murmured, still looking past him to Zane, definite interest in her gaze. “I bet it finds him anyway.”
It did. That was Zane. Always wanting to prove himself, ready and willing to go after whatever he wanted, no holds barred, while Xander was more patient. Content to take things as they came. To wait them out.
Usually. He was usually patient. Usually content to wait things out.
And he was never, ever jealous of his brother.
But he didn’t like being looked through—passed over. Not for any man. Especially not for Zane. Not from the girl he still dreamed about.
The one woman he’d always wanted.
He shifted forward, waited until she focused on him, the humor in her eyes—as if she was laughing at him—pricking his ego.
Poking his pride.
Leaning down so he could speak directly into her ear, he braced one hand on the bar behind her, inches from her arm. Close enough to see her eyes widen slightly, to catch her small, sharp inhale. “I don’t look for trouble,” he repeated, then eased back and let his gaze drop to that mouth of hers for one long moment before meeting her eyes again. “But I know how to handle it when it comes my way.”
* * *
QUINN RAISED AN EYEBROW—one of the many, many tricks she’d taught herself over the years—and maintained eye contact with Xander. She even managed a brief grin, just to prove how truly unaffected she was by his nearness. The intensity of his gaze.
There was only one teeny, tiny, irritating problem.
She couldn’t breathe.
No, really, it was as if he’d just, whoosh, sucked all the air out of the room, and possibly the entire building, with his words, the husky, sexy timbre of his voice.
Men. Can’t live with them, can’t live without them.
Can’t ever, ever let them get the upper hand.
A reminder that gave her the wherewithal to tip her head and give him a slow, thorough once-over, much like he’d given her.
Like all men gave her.
It wasn’t a hardship. Xander Bennett had always been easy on the eyes. Supershort brown hair, clean-shaven with a sharp jaw and eyes more gold than brown, he was the poster child for the all-American boy next door.
If you liked that sort of thing.
She didn’t. Usually. But on Xander, it worked. It worked really, really well.
It was his nose, she decided. There was a slight bend to it—a bend that hadn’t been there in high school. One that suggested it’d been broken.
One that suggested there might just be more to him than meets the eye.
Despite the jeans, crisp button-down shirt and cowboy boots, he looked more soldier—or in his case, she guessed, sailor—than ranch hand out on the town. Tall with broad shoulders, he had a bearing about him that said not only could he handle trouble, easily, but that trouble would be smart to stay away from him in the first place.
Quinn hadn’t always been smart.
But those times, they were a-changin’.
“Just make sure any trouble you handle,” she said, “doesn’t happen at Myer’s. I’ve been warned about you.”
He eased back, allowing her to slip around him and go back behind the bar. Once there, with the safety of the wide, scarred wood between them, she took a deep, careful breath.
Better. Much, much better.
“You were warned about me?” he asked.
“We—” she gestured to Steve, the other bartender, then to Lila, the waitress “—were warned about you and your brother.” A customer held up his empty glass and she pulled him a fresh beer. “Guess Dianne is holding a grudge over that last ruckus you two caused in here.”
“We paid for the damages,” Xander said of what Dianne, Quinn’s boss and the owner of Myer’s, had described as a battle royale two years ago that had taken out four tables, six sets of chairs, three bar stools and the door to the women’s restroom, not to mention countless glassware. “And we didn’t cause it.”
“No? So you were innocent bystanders caught in the fray?”
“More like targets.” He lifted a shoulder. “A couple of guys wanted to prove they could take us on.”
Quinn exchanged the beer for money and picked up the customer’s empty glass. “And you wanted to prove they couldn’t?” She rolled her eyes. “Men. Such fragile egos.”
“I don’t have to prove anything,” he said, the quiet intensity, the way he held her gaze telling her he spoke the truth. “And my ego is just fine.”
She bet.
“Yet you fought them anyway,” she said.
Another shrug. “Zane needed me.”
“Don’t tell me, the big, bad rebel turned bigger, badder SEAL couldn’t handle himself in a bar fight?”
“He can handle himself. But when that fifth guy jumped in, I thought I’d help even the odds.”
She shook her head. “Wait...you and your brother fought five other guys?”
“Something like that,” he said, all matter-of-fact, as if being outnumbered was nothing new.
Or anything to
be worried about.
“Something like that?” she repeated. “So there were more?”
“You know Zane’s a SEAL?” he asked instead of answering—which told her all she needed to know. There’d been more than five other guys.
Seemed when Dianne told the story to her employees, she’d left out the best part.
“I—along with everyone in the city limits—know you both are.” Quinn took an order, poured rum into a glass then added cola. “Even all these years later, the Bennett boys are the talk of the town.”
The brothers both joined the military—Xander going the officer route through Annapolis, Zane enlisting—out of high school. And though they’d taken different paths, on opposite sides of the country, they’d both become SEALs, real-life American heroes.
“And now,” she continued, after handing the rum and cola to her customer, “you’re back for our illustrious ten-year high school reunion, where you and Zane will be honored for your service to our country and doing the old class proud.”
“You keeping tabs on us, Quinn?”
Her mouth dried at the sound of him saying her name, which was so crazy—not to mention unacceptable—she patted his hand, like he was an adorable little kid wishing for something far out of his range. “Now, don’t be getting delusions of grandeur, sailor.” Yes, she used the term instead of his rank to show she saluted to no man. And to get herself back on even ground. “Like I said, everyone knows. This is a small town, remember? Everyone knows everything about everyone.”
“That bothers you.”
She jerked, her fingers twitching on the back of his knuckles before she curled them into her palm and slid her hand away. Stupid of her to hope he hadn’t noticed her reaction. The man saw way more than the average Joe.
Way more than she wanted him to.
His gaze was steady and intense on hers, as if he had all night to stand here, as if he wanted nothing more than to get inside of her head. To figure her out.
She knew better.
Men didn’t want inside her head. They wanted in her pants.
As for figuring her out...any curiosity they might have about her, about who she really was, what she wanted, her hopes and dreams and ambitions, fell by the wayside once they accomplished their first goal.
