Breathless Descent (Texas Hotzone 3)

More of that damnable emotion welled in his chest. “Nothing is going to happen to me,” he promised.

“Like nothing happened to your father?” she said. “No. I won’t let you go. I…” She pushed to her toes and pressed her lips to his.

Caleb froze for an instant, but then that emotion, that deep burn he’d had for her, rose to the surface. She was right. His father had died in war. Hell, his mother had died of a heart attack. He could die, too. Once he left, he might well never come back, and he wasn’t going to die with any regrets. And never kissing her would be a regret.

He slid his hands into her hair, slanted his mouth over hers and kissed her—deeply, sensually, hungrily, reveling in the innocent sweep of her tongue against his. He moaned with the taste of her. Then reveled in the echoed, soft moan that escaped her lips, in the sway of her body into his.

Laughter permeated the passion threatening him, then voices. Caleb quickly ended the kiss and settled her away from him. Guilt twisted in his gut. “I’m sorry. That shouldn’t have happened. It was a mistake.”

“I’m not,” she whispered. “I’m not sorry.”

Kent rounded the corner, ending any further conversation, wiping away the moment, but not the kiss. The kiss had not only happened, it had changed everything for Caleb and Shay. A kiss worthy of sending a man off to the Army, maybe to war, and a kiss to justify why leaving was the right decision.

1

“IS HE COMING?”

“Is who coming?”

Shay set down the knife that she was using to touch up the icing on her parents’ fortieth anniversary cake and glared at her older brother, Kent. “You know who.”

“Caleb,” he said, and reached for a strawberry from the bowl next to the cake.

Shay smacked his hand. “Don’t eat the food before the guests arrive, and who else would I be talking about? Of course—Caleb.” Just his name twisted her in knots.

“So is he?”

Kent snatched a strawberry and bit down. “Yes, he’s going to be here. Why wouldn’t he be? It’s Mom and Dad’s anniversary. They’re his parents, too.”

“He’s been home for a few months,” Shay said, “and I’ve yet to see him. That’s why.” And because she’d kissed him. Ten years ago, on her eighteenth birthday, and they’d hardly seen each other since. “He came home all of a handful of times in a decade.”

Kent snorted. “What did you expect? He was in the Special Forces. Some elite unit that he can’t even talk about. And you might not have seen him since he’s been home, but I have.”

“Because you went to that skydiving business of his and jumped out of a plane.” A sales rep for a high-end sporting goods company, her brother didn’t get his sun-kissed, athletic good looks by accident. He was all about sports, the more extreme, the better. “You went to him, Kent. He didn’t come to you.”

“He’s trying to get his business rolling,” he said. “Cut him some slack. There’s nothing more to this. Don’t read into it. Ever since you opened that fancy psychology practice of yours, you’re always reading too much into things.”

“I just don’t want Mom and Dad to be disappointed,” she said. “Today is special.”

“He’ll be here,” her brother reassured her. The doorbell rang. “That must be the caterers.” He glanced at his watch. “And not a minute too soon. We don’t need thirty hungry people roaming around our backyard. It might get dangerous.” He started to turn away and seemed to think twice. He leaned on the counter. “Stop fretting. He’ll be here. And Mom and Dad will have a great day.”

She forced an accepting nod she didn’t feel. Kent continued to study her with a keen look until the doorbell rang again. Then, with a scrub of his jaw, he departed. She knew he could tell something more was going on with her than simple worry over her parents’ party—she’d seen it in his eyes—and there would be questions later she didn’t intend to answer.

Shay shoved her long blond hair behind her ears and crossed her arms in front of the modest swimsuit cover-up. Her mother had volunteered her to put her college lifeguard skills to work today with the many kids attending the party. Caleb had been a lifeguard, too, she thought, unable to escape memories of his role in her past. She squeezed her eyes shut at the vivid image of him in red lifeguard trunks, bare-chested, with a sprinkling of hair over perfectly defined pecs. His light brown hair streaked with blond from the sun. Green eyes glistening with amber flecks. And the lifeguard whistle. The man made that whistle so darn sexy, as silly as it might seem. How many times had she silently vowed to one day blow that whistle?