Free Falling for the Marine (A McCade Brothers Novel) (Entangled Brazen) by Samanthe Beck Page A

of guilt. My integrity can’t afford it.” She broke off and drew in deep breath. “Look, I’m not destitute. I have a few hundred bucks. Hopefully that will last me if I stay somewhere cheap and if my recruiter comes through quick with a new assignment.”
    “That’s too many ifs. I can’t do that.” He didn’t care if he sounded like a controlling asshole. The idea of letting her walk out his door without a decent plan burned a hole through his gut. He told himself the guilt would eat at him like acid, but a small voice in the back of his brain insisted the burn came from something more than guilt. Duty, in a twisted way—a moral obligation to alleviate a situation he’d helped to create. Fuck it, she needed a safe place to stay, and he could provide it.
    “Stay here.” The words were out of his mouth before his brain fully vetted them, and as soon as he uttered the invitation his better judgment objected. First rule of combat—don’t engage without an exit strategy. Where is your exit strategy? The simple, obvious answer stared back at him. He didn’t need one, because Chloe lived her life like one big exit strategy. She didn’t have a home, didn’t want a home, and wasn’t looking for anything except a place to perch until she migrated to her next assignment. He’d reached the point in his life where staying put sounded better than migrating, but she’d run from anything remotely resembling conventional stability.
    “No. I couldn’t.”
    See? “You could. I’ve got two bedrooms, if that’s your issue. You’re welcome to the one I use as my office. Stay until your agency finds you another job.”
    “That could take weeks.”
    “Whatever.” He shrugged to convey a lack of concern with the time line. She obviously liked to keep her roots shallow and her interactions casual. He had to make her see this fit those goals.
    Those smoke-and-mirror eyes of hers stared into his for a long time. “God,” she covered her face with her hands, briefly, “I can’t believe I’m actually considering this. Are you sure you want to invite a disaster like me into your life?”
    No. He was anything but sure. He’d finally gotten a post he could settle into for a while—assuming he could keep his shit together, get back on flight status, and avoid a court-martial in the meantime. Simple enough goals, yet since meeting Chloe he’d put every single one of them in jeopardy. Her impulsive nature, no matter how sexy and charming, created problems for a man trying to stay on the straight and narrow. But that didn’t give him an excuse to turn his back on her. “Chloe, I’ve piloted supplies to red cross stations in areas struck by floods, earthquakes, and hurricanes. I’ve dropped aid packages at refugee camps. I’ve flown in and out of war zones. I’ve seen disaster close up, and I’m pretty sure I can handle whatever you throw my way.”
    The comment must have put things into context for her, because she gave him a weak smile. “You think?”
    Again, he wasn’t so sure, but he nodded with a confidence he didn’t feel and returned her smile. “I guarantee. Stay as long as you need to. No strings attached.” Laughable addition, considering a minute ago they’d been one thin layer of latex away from balling each other blind, but, technically, they were not lovers and he didn’t want her to think his hospitality hinged on them changing that status.
    She gnawed her lip and her eyes darted to the right as she considered his words. He followed her line of vision until his gaze hit a photo on the dresser. A snapshot of his first day on the job at Camp Pendleton, showing him in front of a chopper, shaking hands with his CO—his ultraconservative, by-the-book, CO, who did not believe in officers under his command using the government’s Basic Allowance for Housing to facilitate cohabitation outside the sanctity of marriage.
    He cringed, thinking how quickly this new cohabitation development would travel