Free One Hot SEAL by Anne Marsh Page B

rainbow-colored Post-It notes. Something to break up
the calm, restful, monochromatic noncolor scheme he had going on in his house.
    She listened for a moment. The
porch seemed quiet, but what did she
know about family relationships? She’d been an only child. Maybe brothers could
commune with each other silently, or maybe they’d already killed each other.
Things seemed amicable between Luke and his brothers, but you never knew.
    She padded out, pushing the door
open with her hip. Luke was sprawled in an Adirondack chair, an empty coffee cup
by his booted feet. He did have a guest, but it wasn’t either of his brothers.
For a moment, all she felt was relieved, then she realized she had two
problems, not one.
    First of all, she hadn’t bothered
with getting dressed before she’d made her grand appearance on the porch. She
wore a lacy pink bra, a pair of yellow-and-white striped boy shorts, and one of
Luke’s old flannel shirts. Seeing as how the shirt was Luke’s, it was,
naturally, black. It ended midthigh, and she’d fastened precisely one button,
the one over her boobs, and like bees to honey, both men lasered in on said
button. Or on her bra, her boobs, or the general fantasy she was serving up. In
terms of coverage, her outfit wasn’t an overachiever. On the other hand, she
figured she and her boobs were Exhibit A for why having a live-in girlfriend
was a good thing.
    “Hey, baby.” Since she was on the
porch anyhow, with her legs and her butt hanging out of Luke’s shirt, she might
as well go whole hog. She plopped down onto the arm of Luke’s chair and kissed
his ear.
    He smiled and gestured to his
guest. “Pick here and I were talking. He’s the Black Mountain superintendent.”
It didn’t sound like a complaint, more like a statement of fact, and she told
herself not to be so touchy. “Pick, do you know Deelie?”
    She looked away from Luke, pinning
a social smile on her face and… oh shoot. She’d slept with Luke’s boss.
    Yeah. That wasn’t awkward at all.
The moment of frozen silence only made it worse.
    “Deelie and I, we know each other,”
Pick said gruffly, and then he shoved to his feet. “I’ll see you at tomorrow’s
training hike unless we get called out first.”
    Luke stood up. The guys did a
little back slapping and a fist bump, while they both avoided looking at her. Yay her. Pick loped down the steps and
over to a big black motorcycle parked in the driveway. If she’d only seen the
bike, she might have been smart enough to stay inside, because Pick had given
her a ride one night last year. One thing had led to another and… she wouldn’t
make excuses for who she was or what she’d done.
    Luke prowled back toward the porch,
looking grim. It had been nice while it lasted, but clearly she’d been right
when she said things between them wouldn’t last.
    “So. You and Pick.”
    It wasn’t a question. He knew, all
right.
    “I know him.” She shoved the
flamingo mug at him. “You want the last of the coffee?”
    He gave her a disbelieving look. “I
don’t want coffee, Deelie. I want the truth.”
    “I’ve never lied to you.” She might
have slept around— a lot —but
she’d never told him anything but the truth. The shuttered look on his face,
however, said good luck selling that story to Luke.
    “You want a list of every guy I’ve
slept with? Or just the ones who live in Strong and you might—you
know—‘accidentally’ bump into?” She had no idea why she was taunting him.
    “Jesus. No.” He scrubbed a hand
over his face.
    “You want to know why I did it?
Because I’ve got a two-word explanation for you: free orgasms.” Shut up , her heart ordered her mouth.
Don’t push him. Don’t make him mad.
    He opened his mouth. Shut it. “I
can’t win this conversation.”
    “Is it a contest now?”
    She used to think the sex meant
something. Had almost believed Luke when he’d said she mattered .
    She looked at the black coffee
sloshing around the bottom of