Buck sighed. “I don’t think I can ever go on a beach vacation. Shit, I hate sand.”
I had to laugh. Afghanistan was hot as hell and a fucking sandbox. That shit got everywhere. In places I never thought possible.
“I got this,” I told him. “I can carry the keg by myself. Go have fun with Kenzie.” I had no intention of cock blocking my best friend. We were on fucking leave. Our commanding officers expected us to unwind and fuck.
“What about you?” he asked.
I lifted the keg from the tub, ice sloshing, and sat it in the bed beside me. “What about me?”
“There any pussy around here you want to tap?”
Yeah, there definitely was. Indigo. Buck’s sister. His smart, gorgeous, barely eighteen sister. The one who’d followed us around when she’d been a kid. Who’d done shit all to get her big brother’s attention. When we left for boot camp, she’d been thirteen. But now?
Holy fuck. Indi wasn’t a little kid any longer. She was a beauty. Blonde hair down her back that she no longer wore in two braids. A toned, curvy body with full, high tits. An ass that could probably crack walnuts. Smart and funny and familiar in that coming-home sort of way. How did I know all this?
The Buchanans had had me over for dinner a few nights ago, and there she was. All tanned skin. Full lips. Bold blue eyes that tracked my every move.
I’d gotten one look at her, and my dick had gone instantly hard.
For Buck’s little sister.
He’d seen the way I’d stared. Maybe a second too long because he gave me a look. An I’m going to cut your dick off and feed it to you before you even know what happened glare.
I’d never dealt with the bro code before because, hell, I didn’t lust after jailbait. But Indi wasn’t little or a girl any longer. She was perfect.
Perfectly off-limits.
So I answered my best friend the only way I could so as not to lose my dick. “Nah.”
He tipped his head toward the house. “You sure?”
I glanced that way and saw a lacy white bra dangling from the screen door handle.
He grinned. “I don’t need to speak five languages to understand that’s for you.”
I hopped down from the bed, my boots hitting the dirt of the driveway. I pulled the keg onto the tailgate, then slid it toward him.
“Here. I’ll go see what’s going on inside.”
I was fine with one-night stands. In fact, that was the only kind of sex I had. It wasn’t like a SEAL led the nine-to-five lifestyle. Girlfriends and wives didn’t know when their men would come walking through the door. Or if they would ever again.
I knew the chances of survival being in the military, especially being a SEAL. I took it on voluntarily. Even my grandparents understood the risks since Gramps had been in Vietnam. But I wasn’t putting a woman through that fuckery. It wasn’t fair to her.
The bra on the screen door? Whoever it belonged to was in my house. Uninvited. Even if she was—very obviously—requesting sex. I didn’t like being surprised. Ambushed, even with pussy. Because I’d been trained to stay alive. To watch out for shit like this.
But this wasn’t war, and the woman not wearing a bra? She sure as hell wasn’t my enemy. Since my dick was also on vacation, it got hard at what was being offered.
Buck slapped me on the back. “Have fun.”
He hoisted the dripping keg up onto his shoulder and hoofed it back toward the bonfire. He disappeared into the darkness, and I went to snag the bra off the door. Based on the size of the cups, the woman who’d discarded it had a nice handful. Perfect.
I went into the familiar kitchen. The house was quiet, only the light over the stove was on. After peeking into the family room and finding it empty, I went up the back steps to my bedroom. A sliver of light seeped out from beneath the closed door. I took a second to adjust my now-hard dick before turning the doorknob.
Holy fucking hell.
It was Indi, and she was naked.
In my bed.
“Hey, Ford.”
Chapter
One
Nine Years Later
* * *
INDIGO
* * *
The heel of my hiking boot skidded ten feet down the slick embankment before I managed to stop. At least I stayed on my feet—oof. I slipped a second time and slid another six feet on my ass, which was now muddy and soaked.
Great. Just perfect.
I lurched back to standing. A bolt of lightning followed instantly by a crack of thunder meant being exposed. Cold rain pelted my head and shoulders, and every drop registered through my hooded, waterproof jacket. The sudden summer cloudburst turned the already muddy soil of the mountain to the consistency of a soggy bar of soap. The kind that slid out of grasp and had to be chased around the tub while leaving slick remains in its wake.