Page 45 of Armed ’N’ Ready

“How come I’ve never heard of it?”

He gave a low chuckle. “Most people haven’t. We like to joke that SEALs are a bunch of sissies compared to Force Recon. Everyone’s heard of SEALS because there’ve been more books and movies about them than any other special ops team.”

“How long were you in the marines?”

“Six years.”

“After that?”

“I got hired by the state police.”

“Is that why you stopped performing?”

It was a long moment before he responded. “I just didn’t want to do it anymore.”

The path veered sharply to the right, and their arms brushed, giving her goose bumps. This was their first real conversation about something other than Joe, and she didn’t want it to end.

“Why not?” Somehow, she sensed there was a specific reason he didn’t perform anymore, and she found herself wanting to know more about him, and what made him tick.

“I was twenty-seven when I became a trooper. Shortly after that I got married and only played or sang occasionally for my wife.”

Andi froze in mid-step. He’s married? Her heart all but stopped beating. This can’t be happening. God, she felt like a fool for starting to actually feel something for him.

“Andi?” He stood a few feet ahead of her. “You coming?”

“No.” She called for Stray, then waited for the dog to sit at her side. “I’m tired. I need to go home.” She turned to head back to the house, and he clasped her arm.

“Bull.” With his thumb and forefinger, he gently forced her chin up. “My wife died five years ago. Since then, music stopped giving me any enjoyment. That’s why the guitar was in my truck. I was going to donate it.” In the moonlight, his gray eyes sparkled like polished silver. “I didn’t mean for it to come out like that.”

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered, torn between relief that he wasn’t married and sadness at his loss. He must have loved his wife very much. So much that her death had convinced him that he no longer deserved to experience the joy of his music.

“For what?” His brows furrowed as he dropped his hands first to her shoulders, then to her bare arms.

“Your wife.” Curiosity had her wanting to ask how she died, but she didn’t. “Is that why you didn’t want to sing tonight?” Because it was something special you did for her?

Jealousy for a dead woman made her feel small and petty, but she couldn’t help it. He’d loved someone enough to marry her. That’s what she used to want—before she’d lost faith.

He ran his hands up and down her arms, sending delicious shivers shooting across her skin. “I wasn’t prepared to sing tonight, but I wanted to help you.”

“Thank you again for that. Truly. I’m sorry that it brought up bad memories for you.”

“At first it did.” His hands stilled. “Then it felt good. Cathartic.”

“I’m glad.” In the dim light, she detected a slight smile on his lips. “Music is a beautiful thing no one should have to live without.”

Wordlessly, he cupped the back of her neck, his thumb grazing her cheek. His breath was warm on her face. “You smell like pretty flowers.”

Involuntarily, her lips parted. “It’s freesia,” she whispered, and her heart began to race. He was going to kiss her. And God help me, I want him to.

“It’s nice,” he whispered back.

As he lowered his head, her gaze was drawn to his mouth. His lips were soft, feathering hers before adding light pressure, urging hers to part. The kiss was gentle, his touch exquisitely tender on her cheek.

His tongue sought hers, and she uttered a tiny gasp, moaning low in her throat, pressing her lips harder against his. Kissing him back might very well be a colossal mistake, but it was what she wanted more than anything, and when he began kissing her more deeply, something fierce and instinctive shot through her blood, a craving she could no longer deny. Every one of her nerve endings sparked for the first time in so many years she’d lost count.

She arched against him, sliding her hands around his waist and up his back. Beneath the soft T-shirt, solid muscle rippled at her touch. His heart hammered against her breasts, and his big body shuddered as if he were holding back.

Something wriggled between them. Stray. To her dismay, the dog forced them apart.