the enemy.
He’d never competed against temptation, though.
This was going to be interesting.
“ARE YOU SURE about this?” Mitch asked Livi.
She hadn’t volunteered for this little competition. More like she’d been railroaded. So he figured it was only fair to give her an out.
“Oh, I’m sure,” she said quietly. “How about you?”
Damn, she was cute with that challenging look in her eyes and her chin in the air. He’d take it easy, like he did with the kids he sometimes coached, so she felt good about the results.
“Standard push-ups?” Roz asked, accepting Cade Sullivan’s hand and stepping onto a chair for prime referee viewing.
“For the queen,” Gabriel decided. “Irish does military-style.”
“I’m sure glad I have you making these decisions for me,” Mitch told his friend.
“I figure you’d be lost without me.” Romeo smacked him on the back then stepped out of the circle. “I’ll count for Irish.”
“Let’s keep it a little more impartial than that,” Roz suggested. She scanned the crowd. “Cade, you count for Mitch and Eden can count for Livi.”
Commander Cade Sullivan moved in front of Mitch with a wink and a grin. Wearing puppy-dog ears as a nod to Halloween, the guy had a rep as one of the toughest BUD/S instructors to hit SEAL training.
His wife scooped up the tail of her cat costume and took a similar position on the other side of Roz’s chair. At the last minute she rushed forward to give Livi a quick hug.
“No hug for me?” Mitch asked Cade.
“You’re not pretty enough,” Sullivan dismissed. “Now drop and give me fifty.”
“Take your positions,” Roz called out, holding up her cell phone. “One minute on the clock.”
Livi dropped to the floor and assumed the plank position. Mitch followed suit, angling himself so he could watch her. Keeping an eye on the competition was just smart thinking. Besides, when his gaze shifted to the shadowed valley between her breasts, the view was damned nice.
“And...” Roz gave a shrill whistle. “Go.”
Hands shoulder-width apart, elbows tucked against his body, Mitch went. Down, up. Down, up. He didn’t count. He just let his body do its job. Instantly in rhythm, he glanced at Livi.
She was staring right at him as she pumped up and down.
“I could do this all night,” she murmured. “How about you?”
Mitch grinned.
“Did you know that push-ups are one of the best exercises you can do for your sex life?” she asked, her voice so low that given their position on the floor, he doubted anybody in the cheering crowd had heard her.
But he had.
His body stiffened in reaction. Good thing he was wearing jeans instead of sweatpants. Otherwise his push-ups would have turned into pole vaults.
“It’s all about the core,” Livi continued, her words spaced with her breathing. “You strengthen those core muscles and yowza. You know I work with strippers, right? The things they tell me a good core can do are pretty amazing.”
Shit.
He missed a beat, his elbow locking. He had to do the next push-up one-armed to find his rhythm again.
He’d rappelled off a cliff in a shower of bullets.
He’d shot, sniper-style, dangling from a helicopter while militants targeted it with IEDs.
He’d built his reputation on his ability to focus. To go after what he wanted, ignoring any and all distractions.
“Thirty seconds.”
Mitch ripped his gaze from the view of Livi’s arms, with their perfectly rounded muscles bunching and stretching. Her strength was almost as much a turn-on as her gorgeous body.
“Mmm, you’ve got some kind of stamina,” she observed in that same quiet tone, her words a little breathier now.
Is that how she’d sound during sex?
Imagining it, Mitch looked over. Her eyes gleamed hot with desire as she stared at his arms. Her lips were pursed as she sucked air in, blew it out.
Then her eyes shifted to meet his.
And she smiled.
A wicked smile that nearly sent him flat on his face.
“Fifty-five seconds.”
Damn it.
Jaw clenched, Mitch called up his much-touted focus, staring straight ahead.
Up. Down. Up. Down.
Nothing else entered his mind, nothing else mattered.
Up. Down.
“Time.”
More winded than he usually was in a minute, Mitch did a final push, pulling his knees to his chest and vaulting into a crouch. He didn’t let himself look at Livi.
Not yet.
Instead, he watched Eden give a shout of delight, quickly followed by a hip-bump to her husband.
“She kicked butt,” she claimed.
Cade’s smile was indulgent, but he shook his head.
“Sorry, babe. But he kicked butt.”
“Flirt on your own time,” Roz instructed. “What’s the count?”
“Sixty-nine,” Eden declared with a triumphant smile.
“Sixty-nine,” Cade said at the same time.
A tie? Well, well.
Not sure if he was more impressed with Livi’s tactics or amused at the entire scenario, Mitch grinned.
The room exploded in applause.
Romeo and Tessa went toe to toe, debating the results at the top of their lungs.
Her breath labored, Livi rested her forehead on her knee for a second before meeting Mitch’s gaze. Her eyes were filled with delight, her smile as much a turn-on as her physical prowess.
She tilted her head toward the arguing couple and arched one brow.
“What are the stakes they’re fighting so fiercely over?” Mitch shrugged, surprised to discover his arms were on fire. He was used to pushing his body to the limits, but it was obviously harder when half his blood supply had taken up residence below his belt.
“Yo, Romeo. What’d you have on the line?”
Gabriel held up one finger to indicate he wasn’t finished arguing yet, and kept on edging closer to the brunette. Typical body intimidation tactics. Except she didn’t seem intimidated.
“You think they’ll end up in bed together?” Mitch wondered aloud.
“I’d be surprised if they managed to hold out long enough to find an actual mattress,” Livi replied. Then, lifting her head and her voice, she called out, “Aunt Roz, you have a second?”
“That’s about all I have.” The tall woman sauntered over to hold out a hand to her niece.
“I’ve got a crew of hungry people here. I need to bring in another keg of beer, and somebody should pour a pitcher or three of ice over those two. And what do you need?” As always, her words ran together into one long, breathless declaration.
“I’d