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The Major's Welcome Home

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No one stuck around forever.

“Can we drop it now?”

Darla lowered her glasses. “I haven’t said anything in ten minutes.”

“Huh.” Kenna reached for her glass, but her hand froze in midair when Beck walked in. On cue, her thighs felt hot, her breasts heavy. The oxygen in her lungs seeped out like air from a tire. In faded jeans and a fitted navy blue T-shirt, he was the male equivalent of a triple fudge sundae with a cherry on top. Every man in the bar stood at least half a foot shorter, save the dark-haired man at his side who was also pretty tall, but still quite didn’t reach Beck’s height. Shit, she was staring at him like a certified goober. He hadn’t seen her yet, thank Christ. She scooted into the shadows and ducked her head down. “He’s here. He’s here. Is there a back entrance?”

“Now there’s a question a virgin would ask,” Darla murmured. “He must have rubbed off on you.”

“Save the comedy act. We’re in full-on crisis mode.”

Darla calmly sipped her drink. “Point him out to me before we steal into the night. I earned that by putting up with your twattage. I want to see the first man who managed to breach your apartment door.”

Kenna dropped her head into her hands and groaned. “Blue T-shirt at the bar. You can’t miss him, he’s huge.”

Her gaze scanned the crowd and stopped, mouth falling open. “How did that stay a virgin?”

“Long story involving a preacher’s daughter and self-imposed abstinence.” Jealousy over the two-timing Mary bubbled in the region of her midsection and she ground her teeth. “Can we go?”

“You’re not going to introduce me?”

“Darla.”

“Okay, fine.” Darla scooted off the booth and stood. “You stay here lurking in the dark and I’ll scout alternative exits.”

She sent her friend a grateful look before hunkering down to wait.

The day was fast becoming the worst of Beck’s life. And when you’ve lived through sandstorms and had tiny pieces of shrapnel removed in the field, that was definitely saying something. On the barstool next to him sat his best friend, Cullen Flanagan. They’d gone through boot camp together, side by side. Prior to shipping out, he’d asked Cullen to watch out for his sister, Huntley, while he was gone. Cullen had agreed without question. Beck’s end of the bargain had been to look out for Xander Gibbons, one of Cullen’s recruits and mentees. Beck had failed in that endeavor.

After Cullen had recruited Xander right out of Arizona State, the younger man had surprised no one when he’d followed in Cullen’s impressive footsteps and chosen to specialize in EOD. Cullen had even submitted a request for Xander to train under him at Black Rock after he completed his basic training. The two really had been like brothers, hanging out after hours, too. Unfortunately, the fact that it had been Cullen to teach Xander how to properly disarm a bomb was the reason this conversation was so damn hard.

For six months Xander lived in Cullen’s shadow, learning everything he could, but it hadn’t been enough. As hard as this was on his friend, Beck knew it was only about to get harder.

“You’ve been back for two days?” Cullen tipped his bottle of Heineken back, his expression surly, which wasn’t exactly breaking news. They didn’t call him “Sullen Cullen” for nothing. Finishing his beer, he signaled for another. “You don’t even stop by the warehouse to say hey? What have you been doing with yourself?”

Avoiding this painful conversation. Getting lost in a beautiful, fascinating girl who couldn’t get enough or him one minute, and turned pricklier than a cactus the next.

Astute as usual, Cullen tilted his head and narrowed his eyes. “You meet someone, man?”

He started to say no, since he had no concrete answers when it came to Kenna, only shifting sand beneath his feet, but he couldn’t deny his curiosity. Cullen would know of her, being that she was Sutton’s daughter. Might be able to tell him something useful. Hell, maybe another part of him wanted to delay the world of hurt he was about to put Cullen in. “Yeah. I met someone.” He shuffled the coaster between his hands on the bar. “Kenna Sutton.”

Cullen choked on his beer. “Say again?”

“I’m guessing you know her,” Beck said, trying to keep his voice even. Cullen was known for his reputation with women. If he’d spent time with Kenna, Beck didn’t know how he’d react. Definitely not well. “If you’ve dated her, you best tell me now and get it out in the open, but I’m seeing her again, regardless, so watch what you say.”

“Have I dated her?” Cullen laughed under his breath. “Are you serious?”

Beck’s neck heated, right hand curling into a fist at what he deemed confirmation that Cullen and Kenna had been involved. Breathe. “Do I look serious?”


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