Serving Trouble (Second Shot 1)

Kicking the chair out with one foot, he lowered her down. And his blue bath towel followed her feet to the kitchen floor.

“I need to get dressed.” He’d retrieved the only thing keeping his naked ass covered while he focused on being a friend to Josie. She’d come to him. After last night, when she’d made it clear she didn’t need anyone, she’d driven straight to him. And he was pretty damn sure it was because she needed a friend.

He secured the towel around his waist and headed for the door. “Pie is there on the table. Plates are in the cupboard to the right of the sink and forks below. Help yourself.”

He took the stairs two at a time, half listening for movement in the kitchen. It sounded like she’d found the plates. Now, he needed clothes. And then . . .

He stepped into his bedroom. Dominic’s face stared back at him. There was a whole fucking collage from their senior year. He spotted Lily curled up in friend’s lap. Lily and Dominic side by side after a game. Someone had called Lily, right? Dominic had broken up with her. First after he’d left for basic training and then again when he’d completed Ranger School. Noah had taken it as a sign that Dominic didn’t plan to call Forever home again. He guessed Lily had too. But she still stopped by the bar now and then to ask about him.

Pulling off his towel, he hung it over the pictures. He turned around and there was Dominic’s face again. The three friends in their uniforms, arms slung across each other’s shoulders. He kicked the table and the frame fell forward, crashing into the wooden surface.

What the hell happened out there, Dom?

He thumped his fist against the wall over the nightstand. But fuck—­hitting the wall hurt. Leaning his head forward, he closed his eyes and let the tears flow. He’d fought to hold them back since he’d run to Josie’s side in the parking lot. But now he felt like he was going to explode if he held them in any longer.

“Don’t you fucking die, buddy,” he murmured, his face still buried against his arm. “Please.”

“Noah?”

He lifted his head, but didn’t turn to look at her. He didn’t want to give her proof that she’d walked in on him naked, crying, and hoping like hell her brother would live.

“Yeah,” he said gruffly.

“I heard the banging.” Her voice grew closer with each word. He felt her hand on his back, gently resting on his shoulder blade. “I wanted to make sure you were all right.”

He glanced over his shoulder. Fuck it. Let her see the tears. She’d come here red-­eyed and weeping. She hadn’t tried to hide her pain.

“I’m not, Josie. I’m so damn far from OK.” He turned around, letting her see all of him, broken down and battered by the news that his friend might die and there was nothing he could do about it.

“Me neither.” She reached her hands up and cupped his cheeks, wiping away his tears with her thumbs.

He reached for her, pulling her close, needing to feel her cheek against his chest, her body against his. And yeah, he was still naked. He should probably ask her to wait outside while he found some damn shorts, and then take her back to the kitchen for more pie.

“Noah?” she whispered.

He closed his eyes and rested his chin on top of her head. “I’m scared,” he murmured.

“That he’ll die?” she asked, her voice trembling.

That he’ll die. That if he makes it, he won’t even recognize himself.

He felt her tears start to flow as if he’d turned on

a faucet. Shit, he was a jerk for making her cry again.

“Josie.” He lifted his head, placed his hands on her shoulders and drew her back. Her eyes swam with helplessness and fear. And he wanted to make it all go away. He wanted to erase her pain and strip away his own. He hated the fear, demanding his attention.

But what the hell could he do?

His gaze fell to her parted, trembling lips. He could escape. The fear, the pain, the tears . . .

He lowered his lips to hers. Running his tongue over her lower lip, he waited for her to push free.

But her arms wound around his neck. Her fully clothed body pressed up against him. And he kissed her harder, deeper, losing himself in the feel of her mouth. She tasted like sugar and bourbon. She was intoxicating.

And right now?

She was saving him.