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“I might use some of the same words,” he said. “But they would have a different effect on you.”

“You’re that good with your words?”

“Yes. And that’s not the only thing I’m good with.” He paused for a beat, expecting a laugh and hoping for a breathy sigh. Nothing. Her face was an impartial mask. “So how about that dance? I could whisper naughty things in your ear.”

“No.” The way she said that one word sounded like a reflex.

“A walk under the stars?”

“Romantic, but I can’t.” She stepped away even though he’d been careful not to move a muscle in her direction. “I wish I could.”

This time her words were not a quick dismissal. She said the word “wish” with the fervor of a kid looking up to the stars and asking for a snow day in July. Hell, if there was one thing he understood, it was wishing and hoping for things he couldn’t have.

His mother walking through the front door to the farmhouse and admitting that leaving her family had been a mistake . . . His dad seated beside him in a helicopter one last time. . .

“Can I ask you something?” Chad said.

She nodded. A strand of blond hair fell across her face and he resisted the urge to brush it away. With any other woman, he would not have thought twice about an innocent touch in a public space. But he sensed Lena had boundaries that demanded respect.

“Where did you meet Georgia?”

“In therapy.”

The words, ­coupled with her matter-­of-­fact tone, nearly knocked him on his ass. “You’re a veteran. I never would have guessed that one.”

“A little different from a model,” she said with a small smile. “I was in the army. Until eighteen months ago.”

“The job you can’t go back to,” he said, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

She nodded, her blue eyes trained on him as if tracking his movements. Had someone hurt her? The thought of it pissed him off. Or had the time spent serving her country left her battle-­scarred on the inside? Either way, he wasn’t the man to fix her problems. He’d never been drawn to wounded creatures.

Chad glanced at the dog. Whatever had happened to her, Lena already had her hero. She didn’t need him. And he didn’t want a woman in his life he couldn’t walk away from come sunrise. Or a woman he couldn’t touch . . .

He looked up at the patio and spotted another blonde. With her jeans and low-­cut blouse, the other woman possessed the same petite build as Lena. But there was nothing striking about her. Looking at her didn’t leave him wanting to pull her hair, or hear his name on her lips, never mind learn her secrets.

“She looks like fun,” Lena said.

Busted.

He glanced at the woman who made him want to do all those things and more. “Sure you’re not?”

“I can be,” she said with a wry smile, as if this bit of information was a carefully guarded secret. “But not the kind you’re in the market for. Not tonight.”

“That’s a shame. I was looking forward to whispering dirty things in your ear.”

She pursed her lips, her eyes filled with wistful wanting. “I’m not ready for that kind of fun,” she said, her voice low, but certain. “Not yet.”

“That’s fair.” Yeah, those words made it crystal clear she wasn’t up for his no-­strings-­attached, down-­and-­dirty nights. But it didn’t keep him from hoping.

“If that changes, I’d like to know,” he added. Chad slowly backed away from the woman and her dog, offering her one last smile. “Try and have a good time tonight, Lena. This is a party.”

“I’ll take that under consideration,” she said, the golden retriever returning to her side. “Good-­bye, Chad Summers.”

Chapter 2

CHAD STARED AT the naked woman on the bed and wondered if he was making a mistake. Lying on her stomach, with her face buried in the pillow, Amber’s long blond hair fell in a dozen different directions—­straight up, over the pillow, and down the smooth slope of her bare-­naked back. His gaze drifted lower. A thin white sheet covered her ass, but he could see enough to guess she’d abandoned her underwear. Given how hot it was in the cramped studio apartment, he was ready to shed his clothes too. The heat was on despite the fact that it was unseasonably warm for fall in Oregon. He could hear the water rattling through the radiators. And she hadn’t bothered to turn on the fan before passing out.

He moved to the kitchenette counter and switched on the small desktop fan. It wasn’t much, but it would feel good when they got hot and sweaty. The blades rotated, blowing the sheet off her body.

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