I was alone. Again. The guys were gone on yet another training exercise. Hunter hadn’t said where or why. He couldn’t. But the hand gestures he’d made, fingers spread and floating downward, had been more of a hint than I usually got. And his motions had told me enough. They’d be somewhere dozens of armed men in camouflage, floating beneath canopies of silk, wouldn’t be noticed. Knowing they were parachuting, likely under the cover of darkness, wasn’t nearly as frightening to me as other mysterious operations where the men returned silent and broody—or for some poor loved ones, not at all.

I was happy enough with some alone time to catch up on laundry and housekeeping, tasks that were impossible to do with three large men constantly underfoot or occupying spaces above, beside, and beneath me. I was also happy to have privacy to do my work—and entertain one former SEAL who was sorely in need of entertainment…

“Sara, why are you calling?”

I really liked his voice—deep, grumbly like he’d just awoken. I could imagine his shaggy hair, standing in spikes, his musky scent. Harley was a sexy bastard, or at least, he had been—before “the incident.” No longer on active duty due to his extensive, irreparable injuries, he’d withdrawn from his friends. I had yet to see him. But we did talk, our conversations becoming more personal before crossing a big fat line.

After we’d shared a “sample” phone sex convo, something he’d insisted on hearing once he’d learned what I did to earn a little cash—and which he’d felt compelled to report the details concerning to Hunter—Harley had tried to avoid my calls. But I’m like a gnat, constantly buzzing. I’m persistent like that. Especially when I like someone. Hunter knew that all too well. I suspected he knew I’d be calling his old buddy again. And since he hadn’t warned me specifically not to… “Can’t I just call to say hi?” I fingered the edge of my lace panties in anticipation of another session of over-sharing.

I placed the call on speaker and laid the phone beside my ear to better enjoy our conversation. “Do you want to hear about my latest client?”

“Nope.”

“Do you want to hear what Hunter did after you snitched about our little talk?”

“Fuck no.”

I huffed, pouting my lips. A gesture lost because he wasn’t there to see it. “When are you coming for a visit?”

“I’m not, Sara. Not yet, anyway.”

Knowing he was getting restless, and that he’d hang up if I didn’t think quickly, I started my last gambit for his attention. “If you don’t come, I just might have to come see you.” I listened as he drew a deep breath. Something scraped, and I imagined him rubbing a hand over the dark shadow stubbling his jaw. “Maybe I’ll wear those short cutoffs I wore when I helped you wash your car…” That ought to do it. Those shorts had exposed the creases beneath my buttocks, something that’d had every motorist passing by whistling and honking. I’d paid a dear price for that stunt. Hadn’t been able to sit on hard surface for a week…

“It’s fucking December, Sara. And those shorts don’t cover your cheeks. You’ll turn yourself into a popsicle.”

“So, I’ll wear a coat over them, but I’ll be sure to take it off the minute I step through the barracks door…”

He swore again. “You know you’ll incite a riot.”

“Then come here. Keep me safe from all those rioters, Harley,” I pleaded in a softer tone.

Silence stretched. I bit my lower lip, trying to be patient. I could only cajole him so far before he’d end the call.

Then… “All right. I’ll come. Hunter around?”

I smiled and crossed my fingers. “Of course. Think I’d extend the invitation if I were all alone?”

His chuckle vibrated in my ear. “Maybe I should ask you to pass the phone to him.”

“He’s out running with the boys.” Because I didn’t want him to have time to think of an excuse to change his mind, I quickly asked, “When? Can you come tomorrow?”

His deep breath rasped. “Okay. But you better behave. I don’t want your boyfriend kicking my ass.”

The next day, I waited on pins and needles, nervous because I was anxious to see him, to look into his eyes and know that he was going to be okay. But I was also scared, because knowing the extent of his injuries and really knowing were two entirely different things.

The doorbell rang. I ran a hand over my hips, pulled down the hem of my frayed shorts, and ran to the door. There, I wrapped my fingers around the knob, took a deep breath for courage, and turned it. Pasting a smile on my face, I swung the door wide.

Harley’s tall, lean figure stood before me. His familiar smile with the space in the center of his top teeth stretched.

But there were changes, too—beyond the obvious—which I wasn’t yet willing to acknowledge. For one, there were lines etched beside his eyes and mouth. Ones deepened not by the sun, but by pain. And his hair was darker—only the tips were sun-bleached. A testament to the fact he hadn’t been spending much time out of doors.

Bracing myself, I let my gaze sweep his body, and immediately it was snagged by the hook where his left hand had been—but instead of recoiling inside, something odd happened. Now, I wondered whether he could squeeze my boob with the clamp while he sucked the hardened tip with that sexy gap between his teeth. I bit my lip and continued my inspection. The leg of one side of his jeans was a little hollow, but not noticeably so, and he leaned on a cane. Raising my head, I gave him a real, warm smile and closed the distance, wrapping my arms around him—and pressing all of me against him.

He was happy to see me. All of him, apparently—something he couldn’t hide. His deep inward breath pushed his chest against mine. His exhale feathered my cheek.

When I leaned back inside his embrace, we exchanged stares.

“It’s been too long,” I scolded, pouting my lower lip.

“You’re still trouble, little girl.”

“Not so little,” I whispered, rubbing my chest against his and glancing up from beneath my lashes.

His grunt was pure male appreciation. “Hunter’s car isn’t outside. Neither is Pay’s or Marco’s. Did you tell me a lie?”

I widened my eyes in innocence. “Now, why would I do that? You just missed them.” I grinned.

He shook his head and released me then bent to pick up the backpack beside his feet. “You going to let me inside, or am I gonna have to move you?”

“Like to see you try,” I said, lifting my chin, knowing how my challenges affected my guys.

He grunted and stepped around me, bumping against my hip.

I moved and let him step into the foyer, and then followed him into the living room.

“Nice digs,” he murmured.

“Well, with the three of them paying rent, we thought we could do a little better than Hunter’s little apartment.” We stood awkwardly eyeing each other. I wonder if he thought, like I did, that if he’d still been with the unit he might be sharing our roof. Harley had been inseparable from Hunter, Pay, and Marco before he’d been injured.

A beep sounded from the headset I’d left on the coffee table.

We both glanced toward it.

“No,” he said, his jaw firming.

“Yes,” I replied and swiped up the headset, put it on, and tapped to answer. I gave him a glare and placed my finger over my lips to tell him to be quiet. I had work to do. And maybe, it was well-timed. He’d actually see me in action. The idea sent a thrum of excitement through my body. I listened as the agency’s automated service gave me a brief description of my caller.

Judson, a new-to-me client, wanted some “conversation.” With another tap, I muted the line and groaned. “Conversation” meant he wanted me to tell him how sexy he was while he beat off to the sound of my voice.

Harley cleared his throat. “Maybe I should settle into my room,” he said, hitching his thumb toward the hallway leading toward the bedrooms.

I nodded and unmuted my line. “Hi there, Judson.”