Storm Watch

It’d taken a long time, but painful experience by painful experience, she’d toughened up, learned to speak up for what she wanted. Mostly, she’d also learned that things worked out much better when both parties were enamored.

Not that that had happened in a while. After a series of missteps in the man department, mostly due to her own inability to fully connect to someone because when she was so busy with Cece, she’d decided to try something new and had gone off men altogether. Cristina had joined her for a while, but then she’d done the unthinkable and fallen in love with Dustin.

Leaving Lizzy alone on her penis embargo.

Well, not completely alone. Her sister had far more reasons than anyone to give up on men, as she’d just about tried the entire male species, at least all the wild ones anyway. She looked at Jason. “Definitely not feeling the big three-oh breathing down my neck.” Her life was just beginning, actually. “Do you know where Dustin is?”

“I don’t.” He stepped toward her, the light from the lamp bathing him in a soft glow that only emphasized the gorgeousness up close and personal. She tried not to stare at him and failed.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

The closer he got, the harder it was for her to breathe, so no. No, she wasn’t okay.

Not by a long shot.

Her legs had turned to overcooked noodles at first sight of him and, despite her resolve, her brain had gone to mush. She could tell herself she’d gotten over him a damn long time ago, but the truth was, if he so much as crooked his pinkie finger in her direction, she was going to regress to that pathetic teenager she’d once been, and melt in a little puddle of longing at his feet.

Lord, this would be so much easier if he’d put some clothes on—

The wind cracked, and with it came an ear splitting thunk that shook the house and removed her from her lustful reverie, causing her to jump nearly right out of her skin.

“Just the trees along the side of the house,” he murmured, turning his head to look out the window. “Which should have been trimmed.” He turned on another light, and…and her brain stuttered to a halt as her eyes ate him up. It was like an opened bag of chips, she couldn’t stop herself.

“It’s getting bad out there,” he said, shifting back to her, his gaze searching her face. “Are you okay?” he repeated.

Oh, man. Man, oh, man. He’d changed, too. He was far quieter, far more intense.

And the most devastating—kind. When had that happened?

She came up to his shoulder. Which meant that her face was right at pec level, and now there was so much light…Don’t look, she ordered herself. Don’t—

She looked. And when her gaze dropped, so did her IQ. She couldn’t help it, he was just so perfectly made.

He put a finger under her chin and lifted it up. Right. He’d asked her a question. Was she okay? A question that brought her firmly back to the present. And the present was looking tricky. No Dustin meant no SUV, and no SUV meant she’d have to go it alone, and that wasn’t going to be easy. “I’m fine. I’m just worried about Cece. It’s probably nothing but I just want to go check on her.”

“Cece,” he said. “Your sister? Troublemaker Cece?”

He remembered. Damn. He was hot and sharp, which just didn’t seem like a fair distribution of gifts. “She called me last night at work. She said she was fine, no contractions or anything, but now I can’t get a hold of her, and—”

His eyes widened. “She’s pregnant?”

“Yes. And her cell phone is off. I’m thinking she evacuated, that it’s okay, I just need to get a damn life,” she said with a self-conscious laugh. “She’s growing up and moving on, and I need to do the same, but I just can’t go to higher ground and relax until I’m sure.” Because a very small part of her couldn’t trust her sister to do it, even though she should be able to.

It was asinine. “I can’t get to Eastside in my car. I was hoping to borrow Dustin’s SUV.”

“Okay.” Jason shoved his fingers through his hair and let out a breath, the movement of his arms stretching and flexing all sorts of muscles that pretty much made her mouth dry up. “Where’s her husband?”

“There is no husband. The father of her baby ran so fast her head is still spinning. I’d really hoped to find Dustin here.”

“I’ll have to do.”

In truth, he looked a lot like his much kinder, gentler brother. He had dark hair, cut military short. Like Dustin, he had light gray steely eyes that she knew could be warm and playful, or cut like steel.

But unlike Dustin, Jason had an edge, which had only sharpened over time, from his intense gaze to his physique, honed by the military.

“I have a Jeep,” he said. “I’ll take you to her.”

“You?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

He considered her a moment, bemused as he ran a hand down his stubbled jaw. “Because you need a ride?” At her obvious surprise he shook his head. “Jesus, was I that big of an ass?”

She didn’t want to go there. No way. “All I need is to borrow your Jeep.”

“Ah. So you don’t need me. Duly noted. But the Jeep and I are a package deal. Take it or leave it.” His smile was tight, and went tighter when her cell phone rang and she pounced on it rather than respond to him.

“Hey,” Cristina said. “How goes it?”

“I’m going to go check on Cece.”

“Not in this. We were all called in on emergency shifts it’s so bad out there.”

“I just want to make sure she got out.”

“Not by yourself.”

“Not exactly.” Lizzy glanced at Jason, who was standing where she’d left him, still gloriously half-naked, watching her. “I’ve got Jason.”

He smiled grimly, and nodded his approval of her choice.

“Dustin’s Jason?” Cristina asked, letting out a low whistle. “Nice. The guy’s a virtual search and rescue team all on his own. But…”

“But what?”

“He’s…had a rough few months.”

“He looks okay.”

He arched a brow in her direction.

More than okay…

“Honey, he looks hot,” Cristina corrected with characteristic bluntness and a laugh.

Feeling her face heat, Lizzy turned away from Jason’s probing eyes. “I don’t see how that’s pertinent.”

“Then you must have failed Chem 101. It’s too bad you have that whole penis embargo going. You going to be able to resist?”

Lizzy risked a look over her shoulder. Jason had leaned back against the wall, arms crossed. Calm and steady.

Look at him, so absolutely at ease in his own skin. She grounded her back teeth together. “Not a problem.”

Cristina laughed softly. “Yeah, good luck with that. Call me.”

“I will.” She slipped her phone into her pocket.

Jason remained silent, his feelings carefully shielded. She had no doubt that he’d be an incredible asset to her out there in the storm, but unfortunately, he was far too dangerous to her mental health. “I want to thank you for offering to help. I appreciate it, but I can do this alone.”

He shook his head, annoyance crossing his features. “You always were stubborn as a—”

“Hey.”

“—mule,” he finished sweetly. As if he was sweet!

“You just got in town,” she said, lifting her chin. “I don’t want to take up your time.” Or hers, staring at his half-naked bod…

He pushed away from the wall. “All I was doing was sleeping. You’re going to need help, Lizzy.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“Really? So you know how to drive in weather like this, or how to cross a flooded street? How to get into a flooded building? How to get a pregnant woman out of a flooded building?”

“I’ll figure it out.”

“I’m going with you.”

This was such a bad idea. “Jason—”

“The words are thank you.”

“Fine. Thank you.”

“See, that wasn’t so hard.” In the old days, he might have added a suggestive smile, a few teasing words, anything to make her blush or stammer or act like an idiot—which she’d done more times than she cared to remember.

But there was none of that now. No mockery. No triumph.

Nothing.

“You asked me if I was okay,” she said slowly. “But I feel like I should ask you. Are you—”

“Terrific.” He turned away as the house shuddered under the cruel weight of the wind. “Listen, if we’re going to do this, we should get moving.”

“You think it’s going to get worse?”

“Yeah, I do. They’re calling for two feet of rain.”

“But flooding? Here in Santa Rey?”

“Flash floods can happen anywhere. I should know, I’ve seen just about every one of them here in the U.S. in the past twelve years.” Once again he eyed her scrubs. “You’re not dressed for this.”

“No, I came from work. I’m a nurse in the E.R.”

“Why aren’t you a doctor?”

“Long story.”

“How about the Cliff’s Notes version?”

The Cliff’s Notes version was that the world had kicked her ass. Period. She could tell him so, but she didn’t like to admit it out loud. “It’s not important now.” Especially since she still had that dream out in front of her, starting this fall, when she’d enroll in UCLA medical school.

He looked as if maybe he wanted to press the issue, but in the end he simply said, “Do you have a medical bag with you? In case Cece’s in labor?”

“As of last night, she wasn’t, but yes, I do. In my car.”

“And food?”

“Maybe a protein bar or two. Why?”

“Because I’m starving.” He crouched before a large duffel bag on the floor, which he began rifling through.

She stared at the sleek, smooth muscles in his back, wondering what had happened in the military to erase the happy-go-lucky jock she’d once known. Back then she’d spent hours and hours going over all the what-ifs when it came to him. What if he noticed her? What if he realized she was the woman of his dreams?

What if…

She’d gotten a lot of mileage out of it all, especially in the deep dark of the night. But in the face of his calm, steady assertiveness, all those what-ifs seemed so very long ago and so very childish. She had only one what-if right now, and that was what if Cece wasn’t okay? “You’re really going to take me over there.”

“As opposed to sitting on my ass when I know you’re worried? Yes, Lizzy, I am.”

Okay, now she’d insulted him. Interesting that she could.

She really wished Dustin had been here, Dustin who was so easygoing and laid-back and sweet…“Cristina said your brother’s at work.”

“Then you really are stuck with me, aren’t you.” Rising with a pair of jeans in his hand, he settled his calm, quiet eyes on her as his long fingers pulled up the denim. The act seemed shockingly intimate.

Ridiculously so, given that he’d just been standing there in far less. The jeans were loose and clearly beloved old friends, sinking low on his hips as he began to button them up. Stopping halfway, he slid his hand inside to…adjust, and as she watched, she felt her face heat. “I’ll just…” What? She had no idea so she stood there like an idiot, tongue practically hanging out.

“You’ll…?”

“No idea,” she whispered, giving up.

Seeming amused as he finished buttoning, he gave her a glimpse of the younger Jason she’d once known.

Again the house shuddered, and she braced. The sound of the driving rain was relentless as he pulled a T-shirt on over that torso, which could have been on the cover of any fitness magazine. He added an old hooded sweatshirt to his ensemble, then crouched again to dig through his bag for socks.

Then he turned and eyed her scrubs.

She knew they were unflattering, not to mention wet from her dash from the car, and clinging to her. “Those won’t work,” he said, and tossed her some clothes. “These are dry.”

She caught them to her. “I’m not going to take your things.”

“Yes, you are,” he said in the quiet authoritative voice he probably used on the job and had people jumping to obey him.

But it didn’t move her to follow his order as much as it…excited her. Yes, she was that badly off that a quiet, confident, masculine voice could excite her.

She really needed to get sex more often. Too bad she tended to self-destruct her relationships. She looked out the window. Daylight was trying valiantly to break through. The rain was still coming down so thickly it looked like a virtual sheet of water pouring from the sky. “Changing isn’t going to help for long.”

“You’re shivering.” He also tossed over a set of rain gear. “You won’t be any good to me out there if you’re not at least warm.”

She wouldn’t be any good to him? “Okay, now just a minute. I—”

“Your sister isn’t the only one who might be in trouble, Lizzy. I can guarantee it. We might run into people out there who need our help. You’re going to want to be able to give it. Where exactly does Cece live?”

“Third and Cove. Problem is they’re evacuating Eastside because the flooding is already bad.”

“Then we need to hurry.” He straightened and looked at her. Waiting.

Oh, no. No, no, no. Hell to the no was she was going to change right here in front of him. Sure, there’d been all those times when she’d secretly—very secretly—dreamed about such things, but those days were long gone.

So long gone.

This man, with his steely, unreadable eyes and grim mouth, with his big, tough body braced for whatever came his way, wasn’t the stuff of girlhood dreams.

He was all man.

Complicated, edgy man, and no longer someone she fantasized about.

And maybe if she kept saying that, she’d believe it. “Fine. I’ll change.”

At that, he gave her his full attention, his entire body emitting so much testosterone she could hardly lock her knees. “Not right here, of course,” she corrected coolly, and stiffening her traitorous knees, she stepped around him, heading down the hall to his bathroom, shutting the door behind her.

She forced herself to shake off the sensual haze and turned to stare at herself in the mirror, sucking in a breath at the sight that greeted her.

Flushed cheeks.

Glassy eyes.

“Stop it,” she whispered, and quickly locked the bathroom door, not letting herself wonder who exactly she was locking it against—her or him.

Chapter Three

JASON WATCHED HER GO and let out a long breath. He couldn’t believe it. Shy, carefully controlled Lizzy Mann, with the sweet-smelling brunette hair, and those melting chocolate eyes, the ones that had once revealed everything she thought every time she thought it, here in his house.

When they’d been young, she’d been a danger to herself for no reason other than he always knew exactly how she felt about everything: school, life, him.

But she’d be a danger to him now, because they were adults, and incredibly enough there was something there between them, something undeniable. Actually, it’d always been there, and it had nothing at all to do with her sweet, curvy body.

Okay, it had a lot to do with that curvy body, but it was more, far more. Once upon a time she’d stimulated his brain, and she’d been the first girl to do so.

And now she was no girl.

Which was bad timing all around, because since Matt’s death, he’d been pretty screwed up and wasn’t ready for a relationship. Hell, he wasn’t ready for real life. He had no idea what he wanted anymore, or even what was important to him.

Not with the damn rug yanked out from beneath his feet.

A gust of wind hit the house with what felt like a battering ram, immediately followed by the sound of glass shattering, and a short, startled scream. He whipped down the hallway just as the lights flickered once and went out. “Lizzy?”

The bathroom door opened as he craned his neck to see the broken glass, which had come from the bedroom across the hall. The window directly over his bed had blown in.

“It just scared me,” she said, following his gaze. “Sorry.”

With the driving rain the only sound around them, he suddenly became aware he’d pulled her to his side.

It’d been instinctive to do so, simply about concern, but that was draining quickly, replaced by something else entirely as his hand slowly moved up and down her arm.

Adrenaline. It was churning inside him now because of the blown window. Hell, it was still in him from his last mission.

From coming home again.

From being awoken after his first deep sleep in…forever.

From losing Matt.

It’d been a long time since he’d touched a woman, held one. Since someone had touched him in return.

Too long.

Knowing it, knowing damn well he was treading on thin ice, he bent his head for the simple pleasure of rubbing his jaw against hers.

She swallowed hard and, against his chest, he felt her hand settle, then slowly fist into his sweatshirt, not to push him away but to pull him in even tighter as she shivered.

“You’re cold,” he whispered, skimming both hands up her slim spine now.

“No. Not cold.”

God. God, he wanted…

This.

Her.

More.

Then her focus dropped to his mouth, and her lips parted, and that was all he needed. The sign that she felt it, too, this crazy heat. She wanted him to kiss her.

With that his only thought, he leaned in and did just that, all coherent thought going out the broken window as she opened her mouth beneath his and tentatively, sweetly, hesitantly, met his tongue with hers. It made him groan in sheer pleasure because, God, her mouth. She might have grown up and toughened up on the outside, but on the inside she was still soft and sweet, still just a little shy.

He’d take that, he’d take all she wanted to give and to that end, he cupped her head in one palm, running his other hand down her back to nudge her even closer. She crawled right in, right up against him as if made for the spot, accompanying the movement with a little purr from deep in her throat. He loved the way she didn’t keep her hands to herself, loved how they ran up his arms, over his chest, around his neck and into his hair.

Loved.

It.

But then more glass fell from the bedroom windowpane, flying into the room, the hallway, hitting the floor around them with a musical tinkling sound that had them tearing free of each other.

Breathing almost harder than the wind outside, she stared up at him, mouth wet, eyes wide. “What was that?”

“A damn good kiss.” He expected her to pull clear, but she surprised him when instead, she leaned back in and pressed her face to his throat. Not breathing any more steadily than she, he wrapped her up in his arms again, cupping the bare nape of her neck. Indulging himself, he bent his head and inhaled her in.

“Are you…smelling my hair?”

“Yes.” He did it again, drawing in her scent. “God, you smell amazing. I’ve smelled nothing but dust and other guys for so long I just want to wrap myself up in you.” But the house was taking a beating. He needed to cover up the window openings to prevent more damage…

“Do you have a sheet of plywood for that window?”

“I hope so.” The tree just outside his bedroom was whipping back and forth, dangerously close to the blown-in window. Glass shards lay across the bed, on top of the sheets and blankets where he’d been only a few minutes ago. “Good thing you woke me up.”

“You were sleeping there?” Lizzy asked, sounding horrified as she pulled free.

“Yeah.” He shut the bedroom door, closing off the wind and rain freely flying in, and looked at her.

Her hair had been demurely pulled back into a low ponytail when she’d first arrived, but was loose now. The dark honey strands fell to her shoulders, with long side swept bangs framing her face.

Her mouth was still wet.

Which made him want to kiss her again. Forget the storm beating the shit out of his house, forget Cece out there in it—

Okay, he couldn’t forget that. He needed to get his mind off the fantasy currently running in high def in his head, the one that had him pushing Lizzy to the wall and kissing her again until she didn’t look so worried, and then taking that kiss to its natural course, which involved no clothes and her crying out his name as she came.

But life was rarely that good to him.

So he turned her back to the bathroom door, where the only window was narrow and high up inside the shower. “Change. I’m going to the garage to look for plywood.”

“The electricity is out.”

“Yeah, it’s probably going to stay out for a good long time, too.” What the hell. He slid his fingers into her hair again, smoothing it back off her face for the sheer pleasure of feeling her warm skin beneath his palm.

She caught his hand in hers. “Before,” she said. “When I screamed? You came running.”

He looked into her eyes, and there was a long beat between them, where the icy air didn’t seem cold at all but rather shimmering with heat.

The heat coming from them.

He’d survived the past two months by putting aside emotions and feelings. It was a tactic that had served him well.

But he was feeling now, big-time.

“I slay my own dragons these days, Jason,” she said softly, and went back into the bathroom.

At the sound of the lock hitting home, he smiled grimly. She didn’t need him. Message received.

He found no plywood in the garage, which meant that the room was going to be a wreck before this was over. Hoping that would be the extent of the damage, he came back into the kitchen and took another food foray. This time, in the dubious light of the morning, he found a box of crackers and Cheez Whiz.

Worked for him.

Loading up crackers and stuffing them into his mouth, he called his mom. She answered on the first ring, breathless and excited. “My baby! Honey, are you back?”

“Yeah.” At the sound of her love practically pouring through the phone line, he let out a breath and a reluctant smile. “You okay?”

“Oh, sweetheart, I’m fine. Tell me you’re coming here so I can fatten you up and see for myself you’re in one piece.”

“I’m in one piece.”

“Are you sure? Because the last time we talked, you were in such a bad place—”

That had been right after Matt’s death. He’d been a mess. “Mom.” He paused, his throat tightening. “I’m good.”

“I’ll be the judge of that. When will I see you?”

“Soon as this storm is over. Is Shelly okay? The house? You both safe?”

“We aren’t flooding, we’re both staying put, and we’re fine. I love you, Jason.”

“Love you, too, Mom.”

“Prove it and get up here as soon as you can.”

He promised to do that and shut his phone, resuming the stuffing of his face with the crackers and Cheez Whiz until Lizzy came into the room.

He still couldn’t wrap his brain around it. She’d once had a way of looking at him, of seeing things in him that had made him uncomfortable, to say the least. He hadn’t liked looking into those sweet orbs and seeing himself reflected back, because he’d never liked what he’d seen.

Of course she was no longer looking at him the way she used to. She’d learned to temper her emotions. And she’d gotten good at it, too, because she was staring right at him and he had absolutely no idea what she was thinking.

She wore his sweats, which swam on her. Covered from chin to toe, she was now shapeless, which was good. Now maybe he could forget how she’d looked when he’d first flicked on the light, when her thin scrubs had been drenched through and clinging to her curves. “Warmer?” he asked.

“Yes. Thanks.” She narrowed in on the jar in his hand. “Breakfast of champions?”

He turned the jar in his palm and read the ingredients. “Hey, it’s got five percent of my daily required protein. Practically a vitamin.”

She actually smiled, and whoa baby, that was new. He hadn’t seen many smiles out of her in their high school years. She’d been too shy, too reserved. The smile transformed her face, and while he stared stupidly at her, she came close and read over his shoulder. “It’s ninety-five percent fat, Jase.”