Tall, Dark and Fearless. Suzanne Brockmann
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after it, feeling helpless and impotent and frustrated beyond belief.
And then Mia touched his arm. Her fingers felt cool against his hot skin. Her touch was hesitant and light, but she didn’t pull away even when he turned to glare down at her.
“I sent Tasha to see if Thomas is home,” she said quietly. “We’ll get this upstairs.”
“I hate this,” he said. The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them. They were dripping with despair and shame. He hadn’t meant to say it aloud, to reveal so much of himself to her. It wasn’t a complaint, or even self-pity. It was a fact. He hated his limitations.
Her brown-green eyes grew warmer, more liquid. She slid her hand all the way down to his, and intertwined their fingers. “I know,” she said huskily. “I’m so sorry.”
He turned to look at her then, to really look at her. “You don’t even like me,” he said. “How can you stand to be so nice?”
“I do like you,” she said, trying to step back, away from the intensity of his gaze. But he wouldn’t let go of her hand. “I want to be your friend.”
Friend. She tugged again, and this time he released her. She wanted to be his friend. He wanted so much more….
“Yo, Frisco!”
Frisco turned. The voice was as familiar to him as breathing. It was Lucky O’Donlon. He’d parked his motorcycle in one of the visitor’s spaces, and now sauntered toward them. He was wearing his blue dress uniform and looked to be one hundred percent spit and polish. Frisco knew better.
“Hey, guy, having a tag sale or something?” Lucky’s wide smile and warm blue eyes traveled lazily over the furniture, Frisco’s damned cane, and Mia. He took an especially long time taking in Mia. “You gonna introduce me to your friend?”
“Do I have a choice?”
Lucky held out his hand to Mia. “I’m Lt. Luke O’Donlon, U.S. Navy SEALs. And you are…?”
Mia smiled. Of course she would smile. No one could resist Lucky. “Mia Summerton. I’m Frisco’s neighbor.”
“I’m his swim buddy.”
“Former swim buddy.”
Lucky shook his head. “No such thing.” He looped his arm around Frisco’s neck and smiled at Mia. “We went through BUD/S together. That makes you swim buddies for life.”
“BUD/S is basic training for SEALs,” Frisco translated for her, pushing Lucky away from him. “Where are you going, dressed like that?”
“Some kind of semiformal affair at the OC. A shindig for some top brass pencil pusher who’s being promoted.” He grinned at Frisco, but his gaze kept returning to Mia. “I thought maybe you’d want to come along.”
Frisco snorted. “Dream on, man. I hated those parties when I was required to go.”
“Please?” Lucky begged. “I need someone to keep me company or I’ll spend all night dancing with the admiral’s wife, trying to keep her from grabbing my butt.” He smiled at Mia and winked.
“Even if I wanted to,” Frisco told him, “which I don’t, I couldn’t. I’m taking care of my sister’s kid for the next six weeks.” He gestured to the furniture. “This is supposed to be for her bedroom.”
“The kid’s either fond of the outdoors, or you got yourself some kind of snafu here.”
“Number two,” Frisco said.
“Yo, neighbor babe,” Lucky said, picking up one end of the mattress. “You look healthy. Grab the other end.”
“Her name is Mia,” Frisco said.
“Excuse me,” Lucky said. “Mia babe, grab the other end.”
Mia was laughing, thank God. As Frisco watched, she and Lucky carried the mattress into the courtyard. He could hear Mia’s laughter long after they moved out of sight.
As Frisco picked up the lightweight bookcase and carried it slowly toward the courtyard, he could also hear Tasha’s excited chirping, and Thomas King’s rich voice coming toward him.
“Hey, Navy.” Thomas nodded a greeting as he passed. He knew better than to offer to take the bookcase from Frisco on his way out to the parking lot.
“Thanks for helping out, man,” Frisco said to him.
“No problem,” the teenager replied.
No problem. It was possible that this whole deal wasn’t a problem for anybody—except Frisco.
He set the bookcase down at the bottom of the stairs, and looked up to see Lucky come out of his condo, with Tasha in his arms. He was tickling the little girl, and she was giggling. Mia was right behind them, and she was laughing, too.
He’d never seen Mia look so beautiful or relaxed. Lucky leaned toward her and said something into her ear, and she laughed again. She started down the stairs, and Lucky watched her go, his eyes following the movement of her hips.
Frisco had to look away. He couldn’t blame Lucky. At one time, the two of them had been so much alike. They still were alike in so many ways. It didn’t surprise him that his best friend would be attracted to Mia, too.
It took all of ten minutes to transport Tasha’s furniture into her bedroom and to move the boxes that were in there into Frisco’s room.
Thomas headed off to work, and Mia made her excuses and disappeared into her condo—after smiling at the big deal Lucky made out of shaking her hand once again.
“She, uh, said you guys were just friends, huh?” Lucky said much too casually as Frisco walked him to his bike.
Frisco was silent, wondering what he could possibly say to that statement. If he agreed, then Lucky would be dropping by all the time, asking Mia out, working his famous O’Donlon charm and persistence until she gave in. And she would give in. No one could resist Lucky. And then Frisco would have to watch as his best friend dated and probably seduced this woman that he wanted so badly.
It was true. He wanted Mia. And dammit, he was going to do everything in his power to get her.
“She’s wrong,” he told Lucky. “We’re more than friends. She just doesn’t know it yet.”
If Lucky was disappointed, he hid it well. And it didn’t take long for his disappointment to turn into genuine pleasure. “This is great. This means you’re coming back,” he said.
“To the SEALs?” Frisco shook his head. “Man, haven’t you heard, I’m—”
“No,” Lucky interrupted. “I meant to the world of the living.”
Frisco gazed at his friend. He didn’t understand. He was alive. He’d had five years of pain and frustration to prove that.
“Call me sometime,” Lucky said, strapping on his motorcycle helmet. “I miss you, man.”
FRISCO AWOKE TO the sound of an electronic buzzer. It was loud as hell and it was right in his ear and…
He sat up, wide-awake.
It was the sound of the booby trap he’d rigged to the front door last night before he went to bed. Tasha was AWOL again, dammit.
He pulled on a pair of shorts as he rolled out of bed, and grabbed his cane from the floor.
Oh, Lord, he was tired. He may have gone to bed last night, but he hadn’t gone to sleep. It couldn’t have been more than two hours ago that he’d finally closed his eyes. But he’d done it. He’d stared down the night without even a sip of whiskey to help him along.
He may have been exhausted, but he wasn’t hung over.
And that was damn good, because if he had been, the sound of this blasted buzzer would