could easily see herself begging for.
“You know, I might have questioned your judgment and hairstyle over the years,” Michael said quietly. “But I’ve never faulted your eyesight. That is one fine-looking man.”
“He’s okay,” she downplayed as if her body wasn’t melting just looking at him.
“Okay? Just okay?” Michael’s voice rose in indignation, as if she’d just insulted gorgeous men everywhere. “What’d New York do to you? You say you’re not in a relationship, but your butt’s still planted on this towel. Why aren’t you going for it?”
“Because, as you pointed out, I’m in a relationship.”
“Considering a relationship.”
“Which means I should finish considering before I do anything crazy,” she retorted. “Like hit on some stranger just because he’s gorgeous.”
“Gorgeous is the best reason to hit,” Michael mused. Then he gave her an arch look. “Of course, he might not be your type.”
“I don’t think he’s yours,” she said with a laugh, eyeing the sexy swimmer. A man who exuded that much sexual energy, who made her wonder how many hours it’d take to try her top ten favorite Kama Sutra positions, gay? That’d be a crime against women everywhere.
“Let’s find out, shall we?” Michael suggested as the man walked toward them, either because his stuff was up the beach past where they sat or maybe in response to intense do-me signals Alexia was mentally sending.
“Michael,” she hissed, suddenly wishing she were on a plane back to New York. Or buried in the sand. Either would be better than what she knew was coming. “Don’t you dare.”
“Did you say dare?” Michael’s grin shifted to one hundred degrees of wicked.
“Michael.” Jackknifing upright, Alexia made a grab for her brother’s arm. And growled when she missed.
“Oh, hey, excuse me,” he called as he slid gracefully to his feet. “Do you have a second?”
Gorgeous slowed, walking toward them. His eyes—yes, just as fabulous as the rest of him—bypassed Michael to lock on to Alexia.
His gaze was like being bathed in a deliciously sensual bath. The dark blue depths were warm, luxurious and bone-meltingly wonderful.
Alexia swore she felt the world shift. Or maybe it was just the sand beneath her butt as her brother hurried forward to offer his hand.
“I’m Michael,” he said, his smile big and bright as he gestured her way. “That’s my sister, Alexia.”
“Blake,” the man introduced quietly, his voice carrying just a hint of the South.
“I was wondering if you wanted to join me, us, for a drink?” Michael reached into the cooler and pulled out a bottle of water, offering it. “It’d be a great favor. You can help settle an argument between my sister and I.”
BLAKE GLANCED AT PRETTY BOY, and the proffered water, then at the sexy beach siren lounging at his feet. She looked like a parting gift from summer, as hot as the season itself. All red hair and gold skin, she made his mouth water.
Any other time, he’d have made a move to join her. But instead of offering healing, solace, the last two weeks had simply hammered home his grief. Made it worse. He’d hung out at Cade’s apartment for a while. Only back a couple of days from a visit home, Cade had been lousy company. Silent, morose and distant, wallowing in the bitch of a mood that always went with dealing with his family. So Blake had escaped to the beach.
The sun hadn’t helped. Neither had the surf. And he was sure talking to strangers was just as pointless. Just make an excuse and go, he told himself.
“What argument?” he heard himself asking instead.
“Alexia thinks a hot date is dinner and a movie,” the guy told him, tilting his bright red sunglasses down his nose to offer a comical eye roll. “Boring, right? Me, I think a club and dancing is the way to go. What’s your take?”
The bottle of water halfway to his mouth, Blake paused to stare.
Was the guy hitting on him?
Tempted to laugh, Blake offered the redhead a baffled look. Her answering smile was like a ray of sunshine, reaching out to pull him out of a dark hole he hadn’t even realized he’d been hiding in.
“Both,” Blake said. “Dinner and dancing. I’m traditional that way.”
“Ah.” The guy’s smile didn’t shift, his attitude didn’t change. But his nod made it clear he’d got the message that he wasn’t Blake’s type. “Then I guess it’s a draw.”
“You’ll have to excuse Michael,” the redhead said. “He’s a nothing-ventured, nothing-gained kind of guy.”
“Can’t fault him for that.”
“You’re sweet,” she decided softly, her smile flashing bright. At first glance, her features weren’t traditionally beautiful. They were too striking, too bold. Eyes almost too large for her face were direct under a slash of dark brows. Her jaw was strong, her lips full with an obvious underbite that spelled all kinds of sexy to Blake’s suddenly wide-awake libido.
A red-rose tattoo on her shoulder twined down her biceps, twisting and circling. Her body, hot enough to make a man grateful for summer, was stunning. Packaged in a tiny purple swimsuit that hugged and highlighted curves, he suddenly wished like hell he’d met her another time. One when he could lavish on her every bit of attention she deserved.
Blake was the kind of guy who’d built his career on doing the right thing. Who lived his life by the rules. He not only followed the book, but double-checked it to ensure the rules he was following were exactly as written.
Anal?
It worked for him.
At least, it had.
The image of Phil flashed through Blake’s mind, the last thing he’d seen from his buddy was his big, cheesy grin just before the shrapnel had pierced his helmet.
Phil had followed the rules.
The entire team had, to the letter.
And they’d still lost their teammate.
Overwhelmed by the memory, Blake turned to stare toward the ocean, trying to find peace again. The water wasn’t giving any up, though. Of its own volition, his gaze returned to the stunning redhead.
She didn’t look like the kind who followed rules.
Maybe that’s what he needed right now.
His eyes traveled over the smooth golden skin of her bare belly, noting the tiny strings tying her bikini bottoms to her slender hips. His body stirred. Blood pumped. For the first time in two weeks, he felt alive.
He’d come here to heal, though.
And as much as losing himself in a body as lush and welcoming as Alexia’s appealed, he knew better. A smart man fighting demons avoided addictive substances. Alcohol, drugs, gambling. Gorgeous, sexy women. Anything that let a man numb himself to the memories.
Blake’s body screamed a number of ugly epithets at him. Ten years in the navy meant it had a ton to choose from. Still, he’d put his body through worse than denying it a gorgeous woman. He’d get over it.
“Thanks,” he finally said, splitting his smile between the brother and sister. “But I’ve got to go.”
Before he could change his mind, he lifted the water bottle in acknowledgment, and strode away. And regretted every step.
2
“EDWARD, I’VE THOUGHT about it a lot,” Alexia said, her tone low in an attempt to keep their conversation