be
merely
young and stupid, but rather, young and stupid and desperate to get laid.
“Jay Lopez, Dan Gillman,” Alyssa listed.
“Seriously?” Lopez was okay, but Gillman totally wore him out.
“Tony Vlachic, and … Izzy Zanella,” she admitted.
“What?”
Gillman and Zanella had been SEAL Team Sixteen’s oil and water long
before
Zanella married Gillman’s little sister, Eden.
“They’re professionals,” Alyssa reminded him, as she sat down, way on the other end of the bed. “They work together all the time. They’ll be fine.”
“Yeah,” Sam said, lying back among the pillows. “They’ll be fine. Except when they act like moronic children. You better come over here, woman, because I’m gonna need hands-on persuading. You’d best go fetch the chocolate sauce.”
She smiled at him. “Hmmm.” Oh, he loved the sound of a smart woman thinking.
But alas, she brought their conversation back to the topic at hand. “You really don’t want to go?”
Sam sighed. “What’s there that needs fixing so urgently?”
“Remember Savannah’s candidate? The friend from law school who was running for state assembly—that’s what they call their congress in New York.”
He scanned his memory and came up with “Maria Something.”
“Bonavita,” Alyssa reported. “She won the election. She’s been stirring things up in Albany, and … Van thinks she needs a crash course in personal safety.”
“And you honestly think
I’m
the one to provide that kind of—”
“Wait,” Alyssa interrupted. “No. Sam. Okay, you think I’m sending you there by yourself.” She laughed as he nodded. “No, we’re
all
going. You, me, Ash.”
“Shit,” he said again, but this time it rang with his unbridled relief. “Really? But—”
“I’m
going to work with Maria and her office staff,” Alyssa said.
“You said SEALs and former SEALs—”
“You and the children are going to stand around and look big and scary,” she told him. “Van thought it would be a good idea if the people who have a bone to pick with the assemblywoman get a look at what they’ll be up against if they ever decide to do anything beyond writing a nasty-ass e-mail.”
“Well, shit,” he said again. “If you’re going, of course I’m in.”
“New York—in the dead of winter,” she teased. “I think maybe you talked me out of making you go. I don’t want you to be cold, poor baby.”
Sam laughed. “I’m pretty sure you’ll be able to keep me warm,” he told her.
“Still,” she said. “I think it might take some
hands-on persuading
to make me change my mind back to—”
“Yeah,” Sam interrupted her. “Come over her.”
But she didn’t. In fact, she stood up, and with that amazing attitude that he loved so much in every step she took, she crossed the room, opened and went out the bedroom door.
“Hey.” Sam sat back up. “Where are you going?” he called.
“Kitchen,” she answered, her laughter-filled voice trailing back as she went, still gloriously naked, down the stairs. “To get that chocolate sauce. Because that,
sweet thing
, was one
damn
fine idea.”
He’d stood close enough to her, once, in Starbucks, to smell her.
She smelled clean and sweet, and he’d lurked in the shampooaisle of a nearby Wal-Mart for hours after, searching for the brand she used.
He used it now, too, even though his hair was so different from hers.
He’d gone into the Starbucks that day, intending to surrender. He was tired, he was sick, and he’d wanted it all to be over, to end. They’d nearly caught him, thanks to her. He’d just barely escaped, and as he’d sat in his car, hands trembling on the steering wheel, he wondered why he’d run. He’d wanted—right then, in that moment of despair—for them to catch him.
He’d wanted
her
to catch him.
He hadn’t known her name yet—but he’d learned that, too, in the Starbucks, where he’d smelled her sweet, clean hair.
Before he’d gone into the
merely
young and stupid, but rather, young and stupid and desperate to get laid.
“Jay Lopez, Dan Gillman,” Alyssa listed.
“Seriously?” Lopez was okay, but Gillman totally wore him out.
“Tony Vlachic, and … Izzy Zanella,” she admitted.
“What?”
Gillman and Zanella had been SEAL Team Sixteen’s oil and water long
before
Zanella married Gillman’s little sister, Eden.
“They’re professionals,” Alyssa reminded him, as she sat down, way on the other end of the bed. “They work together all the time. They’ll be fine.”
“Yeah,” Sam said, lying back among the pillows. “They’ll be fine. Except when they act like moronic children. You better come over here, woman, because I’m gonna need hands-on persuading. You’d best go fetch the chocolate sauce.”
She smiled at him. “Hmmm.” Oh, he loved the sound of a smart woman thinking.
But alas, she brought their conversation back to the topic at hand. “You really don’t want to go?”
Sam sighed. “What’s there that needs fixing so urgently?”
“Remember Savannah’s candidate? The friend from law school who was running for state assembly—that’s what they call their congress in New York.”
He scanned his memory and came up with “Maria Something.”
“Bonavita,” Alyssa reported. “She won the election. She’s been stirring things up in Albany, and … Van thinks she needs a crash course in personal safety.”
“And you honestly think
I’m
the one to provide that kind of—”
“Wait,” Alyssa interrupted. “No. Sam. Okay, you think I’m sending you there by yourself.” She laughed as he nodded. “No, we’re
all
going. You, me, Ash.”
“Shit,” he said again, but this time it rang with his unbridled relief. “Really? But—”
“I’m
going to work with Maria and her office staff,” Alyssa said.
“You said SEALs and former SEALs—”
“You and the children are going to stand around and look big and scary,” she told him. “Van thought it would be a good idea if the people who have a bone to pick with the assemblywoman get a look at what they’ll be up against if they ever decide to do anything beyond writing a nasty-ass e-mail.”
“Well, shit,” he said again. “If you’re going, of course I’m in.”
“New York—in the dead of winter,” she teased. “I think maybe you talked me out of making you go. I don’t want you to be cold, poor baby.”
Sam laughed. “I’m pretty sure you’ll be able to keep me warm,” he told her.
“Still,” she said. “I think it might take some
hands-on persuading
to make me change my mind back to—”
“Yeah,” Sam interrupted her. “Come over her.”
But she didn’t. In fact, she stood up, and with that amazing attitude that he loved so much in every step she took, she crossed the room, opened and went out the bedroom door.
“Hey.” Sam sat back up. “Where are you going?” he called.
“Kitchen,” she answered, her laughter-filled voice trailing back as she went, still gloriously naked, down the stairs. “To get that chocolate sauce. Because that,
sweet thing
, was one
damn
fine idea.”
He’d stood close enough to her, once, in Starbucks, to smell her.
She smelled clean and sweet, and he’d lurked in the shampooaisle of a nearby Wal-Mart for hours after, searching for the brand she used.
He used it now, too, even though his hair was so different from hers.
He’d gone into the Starbucks that day, intending to surrender. He was tired, he was sick, and he’d wanted it all to be over, to end. They’d nearly caught him, thanks to her. He’d just barely escaped, and as he’d sat in his car, hands trembling on the steering wheel, he wondered why he’d run. He’d wanted—right then, in that moment of despair—for them to catch him.
He’d wanted
her
to catch him.
He hadn’t known her name yet—but he’d learned that, too, in the Starbucks, where he’d smelled her sweet, clean hair.
Before he’d gone into the
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