[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ] I had some battlefield medical training.
All so you could tend to cat scratches.
Yeah, well. With a shrug, he packed up the kit and started gathering the used
bandage wrappers. I d much rather be here dealing with cat scratches than over there
dealing with a buddy s bullet wound.
God. That was so insensitive of me. I apologize. I m still shaken, I guess. She
hesitated, swallowed hard. Did you ever see one? A bullet wound?
And worse.
She bit her lower lip. Were you& ?
No, I never took a bullet.
But you were shot at?
Few times. Lucky for me, we had better snipers. Seth saved my ass more times than I
want to admit. He picked up the kit, the wad of wrappers and used antiseptic pads.
Figure out what movie you want to watch. I ll be back in a few.
Without giving her time to respond, he returned the kit to its spot in the bathroom then
strode to the bedroom. Once inside, he leaned against the cool wood. Drew in several
deep breaths.
Smile, he told himself. Just smile.
Damn, she had a way of picking at him until he felt things he didn t want to feel. Things
he tried so very hard to block from his memory. Things like the feel of a buddy s blood
seeping onto his hands from mortal wounds, the fear that he d never make it home in
once piece, the knowledge that if he did, he was going back to an empty house because
he d ruined the one good thing he d ever had&
The past was the past, he reminded himself. No sense in dwelling on things that he
couldn t change. Bridges burned for a reason& and blah blah blah.
Dragging his hands through his hair, he shoved away from the door and grabbed his
basketball shorts from the floor. As he yanked them on, he made himself smile.
But part of him in the deepest, darkest pit in his soul wondered how long he could keep
smiling.
Chapter Ten
A spatter of color against the kitchen counter caught Libby s attention as she came inside
from the pool the following morning and she finally pulled her nose out of the book she d
found tucked away on the shelf in the living room. The light and fluffy romance wasn t her
usual reading preference, but since her other book had taken a swim during the lizard
fiasco, she d picked this one up out of desperation and she hadn t been able to put it
down. The hero was just too& yummy. Not the perfect man, by any means, but close
enough that she kind of wished he was real. She hadn t realized how much time had
passed since she started reading until the sun s rays became brutal and she had to go
inside or risk sunburn. Even so, still she planned to get a glass of iced tea, curl up
somewhere quiet, and finish the book.
Except that flash of color was out of place on the dark granite counter top and Libby
backtracked to get a better look.
A flower.
Surprised, she lifted it to her nose and scanned the house s open floor plan for Jude.
Why would he pick a flower? And then just leave it sitting here without water? Here,
where she d be sure to see it&
She scowled at the book, which she d laid on the counter when she picked up the
flower. Its candy-colored cover showed a shirtless man in a pair of low-riding jeans, his
very fine backside turned to the reader, with a rose in his hand, hidden behind his back
for the unsuspecting heroine. The hero had spent most of the book trying to seduce his
love with flowers, which made him charming.
Not so much with Jude, who had hinted oh so casually this morning that Seth s sister
was a book addict and, since this used to be the Harlan family s vacation house before
Seth moved in fulltime, Abby may have left something behind for her to read.
That conniving& sweet& no, definitely conniving jerk!
Incensed, she stepped on the trashcan pedal to open the lid and dropped the perky
pink flower in. She started to toss the book in after it, but hesitated. She knew the hero
would get his woman in the end and yet, she had to finish reading it. She could use a
happily ever after in her life right now, so she let the lid drop and set the book aside on
the counter. She d come back to it later. Right now, she had to set a certain thick-skulled
man straight about their relationship. Again.
She thought he was in the garage, so she started when she marched into the living
room and found him sprawled facedown on the couch, sound asleep. Should ve figured as
much he was an early riser and afternoon nap-taker, after all. One arm hung limply off
the side of the cushion and his bare feet stuck out over the couch s arm. His T-shirt had
ridden up in his sleep, showing a glimpse of his deeply tanned skin and the ink of that
back tattoo he was so protective of. Curiosity overrode her annoyance and she drifted
closer.
What was that tattoo? It wasn t nothing like he d said. It meant something to him
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