Command Performance

“Have you done this before?” Hunter asked, handing her a stick.

She nodded. “Once with my grandfather, but not outside. We built a fire in the living room fireplace.”

“It’s been a long time. Maybe I should make your first one.” He took her stick and put a marshmallow on it.

“You’re experienced.” She watched him turn the stick, careful to roast all sides. “Were you a Boy Scout?”

“No, Maggie. Not a Boy Scout.” He used his free hand to snap a graham cracker in half and arrange a piece of chocolate on one side. Pulling his stick from the flame, he gently slid the marshmallow into the middle of his graham-cracker sandwich.

“Open your mouth.”

She obeyed and he held the treat to her parted lips.

“Now bite.”

She heard the snap of the cracker and tasted the warm milk chocolate mixed with gooey marshmallow. “It’s perfect. Did you learn how to make these in the army?”

He smiled and offered her the rest. “I had a crush on this girl, and seeing as we weren’t old enough to go out for dinner, I invited her over and we made s’mores. She didn’t like the marshmallows, but she loved the chocolate.”

“Would this be the same girl who broke your heart and sent you running from commitment?” she asked.

Hunter shook his head. “No one broke my heart.”

“Then why do you run away from long term?”

He slid another marshmallow on his stick. “My job mostly. The lifestyle doesn’t make relationships easy. My longest since I joined the Rangers clocks in at about four weeks, and I spent two of those weeks deployed without email or phone contact, so by the time I got around to sending my usual I-have-a-crazy-job-this-won’t-work email from halfway around the world, she’d moved on. And I didn’t have a great track record before that.”

Maggie nodded. She’d known from the minute he’d said the word Ranger at the car show that his job was a personal relationship minefield. And right now, that sounded like a major plus. One more s’more and she might start to feel things for him she shouldn’t.

“You really love it. Being a Ranger.”

“Yeah. I like being where the action is. And I like being the best.” He looked up from his marshmallow and smiled at her. “No matter what anyone tells you about those other Special Forces units, we’re the most kick ass.”

“But that doesn’t mean you have to give up on the rest of your life. Some soldiers make it work,” she said. “The relationship thing.”

Hunter nodded. “They do. But I’ve got other commitments on my plate. Other people who need me.”

Sierra popped into her mind, but she pushed away the questions. Not tonight. Not after he’d gone to all this trouble for her.

“Not everyone is as driven as you, Maggie.” He turned the stick above the flame. “You never wanted to run away from your father’s drinking and all that responsibility?”

“I did and I thought about it,” she said. “But more than leaving, I wanted to stay and make things better.”

“You certainly take on a lot.” Hunter transferred the marshmallow to a chocolate-covered graham cracker and offered it to her. “You’re a professor and you’re writing your second book—”

“The first doesn’t really count,” Maggie interrupted. “It received great reviews, but no one outside of the military studies field bought it.”

“Still counts. So you’re writing your second book at what?”

“Twenty-eight.” She took a bite of the s’more.

“And soon you’ll be a tenured professor. That’s a lot.”

She looked at him in the soft campfire light. “Living with my dad was like riding a rickety roller coaster every day. You never knew when it was going to fall apart. I want a stable future. And that comes with responsibility.”

Hunter leaned toward her, his hand resting on the hay bale beside her hip. His mouth touched hers and she felt his tongue lick the sticky sweet traces of chocolate and marshmallow from her lips. He kissed his way to her ear, sending delicious shivers down her body. “Not with me. With me, you set all that aside.”

She inhaled sharply and closed her eyes, waiting for another kiss. She was ready to strip off her clothes and follow his orders right here on the hay bale. She waited, but heard only the sound of a chocolate bar wrapper.