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Explosive Alliance (Wingmen Warriors 9)

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Whoa. Somebody stop the Mack truck force of this guy and her daughter. "Hello? I'm here, too."

"Mama always keeps her promise." Kirstie rolled right on. '"Course sometimes she says

'maybe,' but that means she's not sure and she never promises 'less she knows for sure,

'cause it's important not to lie."

"She's right." Bo nodded sagely. "Sounds like you've got a good mama, Cupcake."

"Kirstie. My name's Kirstie Adella Haugen and my mama's name is Paige."

"Well Miss Kirstie Adella Haugen..." Scooping up his guitar, he stood, killer grin rising in wattage along with him. "I'll meet you and your mama at noon tomorrow over by the Thunderbirds' booth. All right, Paige?"

Her stomach flipped like one of those planes in flight. She wanted to say no, no and hell, no.

But Kirstie smiled.

Paige sighed, defeated by a hip-high six-year-old, no less. "Yes, thank you."

Kirstie's squeal was ample reward. "I'll see you tomorrow, Captain Bo."

"Looking forward to it, Cupcake." Winking, he pivoted away, swinging his guitar back over his shoulder.

Watching him swagger off, a glint of sunlight dancing through the hint of curl in his hair, Paige reminded herself that the veneer of charm dulled all too quickly without substance beneath. And since she had no intention of going deep with this man, she would be able to keep her daughter safe for the span of one afternoon outing.

As he tossed a wave over his shoulder, and flashed her a perfect smile with charmingly imperfect teeth, she couldn't help but wonder who would protect her from the likes of him?

Chapter 2

He hadn't packed protection for this TDY.

Protection?

Bo almost startled back a step on the tarmac at the unexpected thought. Still, he kept right on watching the soft sway of Paige Haugen's even softer looking h*ps as she hunted down a bench for the cupcake lunch with her kid.

Why was he worrying about condoms today? The emergency landing must have rattled his brain. He'd known full well when leaving Charleston this morning that he wouldn't need birth control since he would only be seeing Paige Haugen. She was the last woman he would choose to sleep with, given the mess a year ago, and no doubt he would be last place on her list.

Now didn't that sting more than it should while at the same time firing up testosterone at the challenge?

Like he needed more firing up. The singsong melody of her Dakota accent still strummed his raw senses. Her tangy sunscreen scent clung to the dry air. And damned if sunscreen didn't smell like coconut oil and tropical fantasies.

Her shoulder-length locks offered an enticing bonus of softness. His hands itched to discover just how silky her hair might be gliding through his fingers. And suddenly he thought of another Minot saying to go along with Mako and Tag's "tree" discussion.

Why not Minot? Freezin 's the reason.

Yeah, she'd given him the cold shoulder all right when he was near burning after a glimpse of her generous br**sts straining against her 4-H T-shirt. He could have been standing in a winter snowdrift and melted that sucker in five seconds flat.

Gusting wind whipped the eighty-degree May weather around him along with rat-size mosquitoes, itching him out of his sensual haze. The pesky insects bred and hatched in the piles of melting snow, thriving, big like everything else in this wide-open landscape.

He slapped his neck. Paige Haugen would certainly rather swim n**ed through a pool of these monster mosquitoes swarming the flight line than spend more time with him.

Paige Haugen.

Naked.

The image threatened to take root with a tenacity he knew better than to allow. She was an attractive woman—smelled damned good. But his goal here was to get her out of his head, not plant her more firmly in his thoughts.

She and her daughter emerged from the other side of the small crowd, making their way toward a metal bench. She swung the insulated sack between them and started doling out food. His mouth watered at the thought of tasting a cupcake, followed by a patch of Paige's skin.



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