Free Hard as It Gets by Laura Kaye

knees and lifted her up. Her warmth soaked into his skin, making him crave more of it, especially when she turned her face into his chest. God, when was the last time a woman had touched him?
    “Charlie,” she whispered.
    A sharp wave of jealousy speared through him for a split second, until his brain’s cognitive function pushed through the possessive urges and reminded him that Charlie was her brother’s name. Jesus. Where the hell had that come from? What right did he have feeling jealous over her?
    Refusing to examine those questions too closely, he laid her against the cool sheet and pulled the covers over her. She stirred, mumbling a little and pushing her bottom lip into a pout, and then she stilled again.
    His body tight with all kinds of desires he’d no business having, Rixey turned on his heel, killed the lights, and closed the door behind him.
    Back in the kitchen, he braced his hands against the counter and stared at the paper plates, napkins, and drinks he’d laid out on the breakfast bar. Probably better dinner hadn’t happened, after all. She didn’t have much insight into who might’ve broken into her place, and he had some things to look into before deciding how best to approach her brother’s alleged disappearance. What the hell else did that leave them to talk about?
    So, did you know your father’s lies and betrayal led to the deaths of six of my friends, impugned my honor, and ended my military career? Can you pass me another bun?
    Yeah, not happening. Ever. First, why would she believe him over the official Army line? Especially when the powers that be had gone out of their way to make sure no one would believe anything he or the others had to say about what had happened. Second, the Army had made his and his team’s freedom contingent on the signing of a nondisclosure agreement, so he couldn’t let that news pass between his lips even if he wanted to. Which he didn’t. Frank Merritt deserved everything he got. But no kid deserved to find out that their father was anything but the decorated military hero the Army made him out to be. Rixey was a lot of things, but spiteful SOB wasn’t one of them. Still, it chafed his hide to do anything that benefited the man responsible for pulling his life out from under him.
    A door clicked open down the back hall, and Rixey’s muscles tensed. Socked feet scuffed against the wood floors. “I’m so sorry,” she said. “How long was I asleep?”
    Rixey turned and found her standing at the edge of the kitchen, sleep still clinging to her features and making her look young, innocent. “Not long. Don’t worry about it,” he said, hoping his suddenly dark mood didn’t bleed into his words.
    She hugged herself and met his gaze. “You put me in bed.”
    He had no response that wouldn’t leave him feeling exposed, so he shrugged. A trickle of embarrassment mixed inside him with the flash fire of anger set off by thoughts of her father. “So, you wanna eat or what?”
    She frowned and looked away, her arms squeezing tighter across her chest. She took half a step back the way she’d come.
    Damnit. She’s not her father, asshole. “Wait. I’m sorry. I’m a moody bastard sometimes. Come sit down.”
    Becca hesitated for a moment, then slowly approached a stool at the breakfast bar. She eased herself onto it, and her gaze flicked to the stove. The hint of a smile played around her lips. “You made sloppy joes.”
    He crossed his arms and nodded, discomfort crawling down his spine. Why the hell did this woman tie him up in knots like this? And exactly why had he cooked for her?
    “Sloppy joes are your specialty?” She glanced up at him, her expression two seconds away from breaking into a grin.
    He didn’t know what to say that wouldn’t sound defensive or insecure. Fucking sloppy joes. He clawed a hand through his hair. “It’s not filet mignon, I know—”
    “It’s perfect. Sloppy joes are on my top five comfort foods list, ever .”
    Nick