Falling for the Marine (McCade Brothers 2)

She doodled the word “Rescue” in the same flowing script, directly under “Fate.”

“The cheating wife? You met her?” Lynne asked, obviously scandalized.

“No, my other neighbor…a very tall, dark-haired, extremely mouthwatering Major Michael McCade—

“Shall we call him Major Hottie?”

“If you insist.”

“I do. So, Major Hottie walked in and you were lying on your bed wearing your new undies and a handcuff and nothing else?”

“Yep. He waded right into my little drama.”

“Very heroic of him.”

“No doubt. The man is standing in my bedroom, looking like a big, strapping Boy Scout in his cammies, and trying his best to be a gentleman, but he’s eyeing me like he’s not quite sure whether he wants to gobble me up in one big bite or run fast in the other direction.”

“And you?”

“Jesus, Lynne, the mere sight o

f him is filling my head with such naughty thoughts, I’m ready to roll over and let him spank me ’til I cry, or come, or both. Then he hunkers down and works the cuffs with this kind of innate skill that makes me want to beg him to work the rest of me with those same talented hands. His smile tells me he knows it, and he totally could, without breaking a sweat. So we go out to the kitchen, have a beer, and I swear to you, the chemistry between us is crackling. There’s a freaking electrical storm right there in my apartment. He leans in, we kiss, and whoosh! I go up in flames.”

“Wow. Flame kiss. Niiiice.”

“Right. My inhibitions—such as they were—go poof, I’m ready to climb on and ride him like a wild Mustang, when, all of the sudden he pulls away, says, ‘I can’t,’ and…I kid you not…walks out my door.”

“Holy shit, why?”

“I’ve wondered the same thing ever since he left. And the only reason I can come up with is I’m unfuckable.”

“Shut up. You’re not. Maybe he’s gay…or in a relationship.”

Chloe laughed. “He’s not gay. I could feel it.”

“You could feel that he wasn’t gay?” Doubt infused Lynne’s question.

“If he’s gay, he had a weapon of mass destruction in his pants when we kissed. His hands were all over my ass and he couldn’t get his body close enough to mine. My verdict? He ain’t gay. He’s not in a relationship either, or he wouldn’t have kissed me in the first place.”

“Right, ’cause people in relationships never cheat.”

“Boy Scout, remember? There’s something fundamentally trustworthy about him.”

“Must be his skill at picking locks,” Lynne said dryly.

“Okay, he’s a bad-ass Boy Scout who knows his way around a pair of handcuffs, but still fundamentally trustworthy. He was physically attracted, but, for some reason that had nothing to do with being gay or taken, he backed off. My pheromones must be stale from lack of use, and now I’ve got the stink of desperate woman on me.” Horny, desperate woman.

She drew the word “Pathetic,” on her Post-it note.

“You do not have a desperate woman stink on you. There’s some other explanation.”

“Such as?” Sad, how badly she wanted another explanation.

“I don’t know. Give me a second to cool down and focus. I’m still back at spanking me ’til I cry or come.”

The door to the waiting room opened and closed. In the opaque sliding glass shielding the waiting room from the front office area, Chloe saw the shadow of a client come in and take a seat. She crumpled her Post-it note and tossed it into the trash bin under the counter.

“I should probably thank him for the hasty retreat. Major Hottie is military down to the soles of his combat boots, and he has keeper written all over him. Camouflage gives me hives, and the only things I keep these days fit in my suitcase. Maybe he sensed our lives are moving in different directions and decided not to start something we’d both end up regretting after we got all the spanking and crying and coming out of the way.”