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“Do you want another, Jackson?” Grace asked as she opened the refrigerator and grabbed a cold beer for her neighbor.

“No, thanks.”

It wasn’t the words, but the tone that had her biting her lip. Jackson sounded angry. In all the time she’d spent with him, she’d never heard that tone from him before. What had set it off?

She popped the top off the beer and went back into the room. Jordan was on her couch, legs spread, smiling at her. Jackson still stood, arms crossed over his massive chest and staring at Jordan as if he’d like to take him apart. One painful inch at a time.

She handed Jordan his drink, and he winked at her. She peeked at Jackson and saw his eyes narrow. He was jealous. Oh, now this could be fun. He deserved a little payback for his earlier comments about her romance books.

Grace went straight to the couch and sat next to Jordan. Not touching, but close enough. “I’m so glad you’re back. I worry when you’re away.” Which was nothing but the truth. Being a U.S. Marine in this day and age wasn’t anything to play around with.

The hand that wasn’t holding the beer patted her thigh. “It’s cool. I know to keep my head down.”

Jackson came forward and sat on the other side of her, then slung an arm over her shoulders. Grace held back a grin and continued talking to Jordan.

“Of course you do. You’re a very skilled man,” she said.

Jordan cocked his head to the side and studied her a minute, then said, “Are you okay?”

“Of course, why wouldn’t I be?”

Jordan shrugged and took a drink of his beer. “You look flushed, that’s all.”

Grace wanted to hide her head in the sand. Flushed, hell, she was damn near on fire with Jackson so close. She could smell that scent of his, and it drove her libido crazy. “I’m fine. I’m more interested in hearing about you.”

“I’m thinking of asking Lisa to marry me. Think she’ll say yes?”

Jordan and Lisa had been dating for two years, but the military life had taken its toll on their relationship. “I think she’d be crazy not to marry you.”

Jordan leaned forward and murmured, “I would ask you, but you’d probably just drop-kick me.”

She laughed, knowing he was full of it. “No, Lisa would drop-kick you.”

He gave a mock shudder. “You’re probably right. Lisa has a mean temper when she’s riled.”

“Oh, please, she’s as sweet as a lamb.”

He rolled his eyes. “You and Lisa both scare me.”

She reared back. “Me?”

“I’ve seen your temper, Grace. You’re not to be fooled with when you’re pissed.”

She smacked his chest. “Oh, yeah, I’m so scary to a big, strong Marine like yourself.”

Jordan laughed. “Good to see you’re still as mouthy as ever, hun.”

He took one last swig of his beer and set it on the coffee table, then stood. “Thanks for the beer.” He leaned down, presumably to peck her on the cheek, but Jackson was quicker.

“Don’t even think about it, Davies,” Jackson growled, his voice a cold bite of steel. “And you can quit with the hun shit too. She’s not your hun.”

“Damn it, Jackson,” she scolded. “Jordan is from the south. To him everyone is hun or darlin’. It’s like saying hello. He means nothing by it.”

Jordan, being the goof, held out his hand and in a too-chipper voice teased, “It’s been a very pleasant visit, Grace. Hope we can do this again sometime.”

She wanted to throttle them both. And just to get under Jackson’s skin, she ignored Jordan’s hand, rose to her feet and quickly kissed his cheek.

“Grace,” Jackson warned. He stood and towered over them both. “Paybacks are hell, baby.”

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