LITMIR.BIZ

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his way into the kitchen. “You got beer?”

      “You’re in uniform,” Mitch pointed out, ever the stickler.

      Gabriel simply lifted his hand, showing the gym bag he carried.

      “I’ve got twelve hours before I have to report for maneuvers. Tessa’s meeting me for dinner at Zappatos since it’s halfway between here and our place,” he said when he came back with his unopened beer. Just one, since Mitch and Shane were still in fatigues, too. “So I’m using your shower.”

      Flipping through the envelopes, Shane waved to indicate he do whatever he wanted.

      “Shit.”

      “What?” Mitch leaned forward.

      “A letter from home.”

      Knowing Shane’s family situation, Mitch gave a sympathetic grimace.

      Shane stared at the flowery handwriting on the pastel envelope for a second, then with a sigh, tore it open. After all, Sara wouldn’t risk their mother’s wrath by addressing a letter to an FPO unless there was a really good reason. And she usually took care to make the three-hour drive to Boise to mail her letter. But this one had a Little Lake postmark.

      Affection, irritation and resignation all tangled together in his belly as Shane unfolded the paper. As he scanned his little sister’s letter, his gut tightened.

      “Well?”

      “Huh?” He glanced at Mitch with a frown.

      “The letter. What’s wrong?”

      They’d served together, been through too much together, for Shane not to answer.

      “Drama. Sara’s upset about the family rift. She wants me to come home for her birthday. Apparently she’ll be miserable and her entire year ruined if I don’t.”

      Shane frowned at Mitch’s snicker.

      “Go ahead, laugh. You’re an only child. You have no idea what this means. I have five sisters. If one blames me for her misery, they all will.”

      “So? You’re what? Eight hundred miles or so away. They don’t even acknowledge you’re here. And it’d take a hell of a lot for them to storm the base and get to you.”

      Shane didn’t laugh because he could imagine them doing just that. Women were scary. His sisters scarier than most.

      “Maybe I can volunteer for a mission. Something far, far away,” he muttered.

      “Or maybe you can take some of that leave you have built up and go home,” Mitch suggested. “Watch your sister blow out the candles, keep her from being miserable, fix the mess with your mom.”

      Just the thought of it tightened his gut.

      “I’m already working on an assignment,” he said quickly.

      “An assignment that’s on hold for the next two weeks. Take a few days. Go home.” Mitch waited a beat, then smiled. “Consider it an order.”

      * * *

      “SO, HANDSOME...WANNA join the Mile High Club?”

      Damning Mitch for making this an order, Shane peeled his eyes off the book he’d been trying to read. He didn’t turn his head. He just slid a glance to his right in hopes that the whispered question hadn’t been aimed at him.

      But the big-haired blonde’s hungry smile dashed those hopes all to hell. And in case he’d been too dim to catch a clue, she skimmed her fingers up his thigh, those lethal nails skimming uncomfortably close to his goods. He wanted to shift away. He really wanted to move her hand. But he’d been trained to never blink first.

      Shane was a SEAL. He’d faced down terrorists, shot down enemy combatants and answered to cranky Admirals. He’d once jumped from a burning plane with a wounded soldier in his arms and a parachute on his back.

      And he’d done it all with nerves of steel.

      But faced with a predatory woman and he froze. He specialized in communications, but he was lousy at this kind of thing. He didn’t have Romeo’s flirting skills. Nor did he have the social ease that Mitch was known for. Added to that, women generally either hit on him or wanted to take care of him. Both of which always confused the hell out of him.

      “I’m Kathy, by the way.” The lush blonde gave a low growl when she leaned closer to press her ample breasts against Shane’s arm. “Mmm, you have such an impressive body. I’ll bet you work out a lot, don’t you? I’d love to see more of those muscles...”

      “Whoa.” Shane clamped down on the hand that was about to test his muscle. “Sorry. I’m going to have to pass.”

      He hated turning women down. Even ones who looked as if they could send the plane into a tailspin during a Mile High bounce. But the thrill of being hit on for reasons that often baffled him had long since passed. The thrill of easy sex, easy women and easier times walking away had faded, too.

      “Now why would you do that?” Kathy fluttered her lashes, giving him a wicked smile. “Don’t you like adventures?”

      Shane laughed. He couldn’t help it.

      “I live for adventures,” he deadpanned, figuring there wasn’t any point in telling her he’d scored his Mile High wings years ago, when he’d still been riding that thrill. She’d likely dare him to prove it. “I appreciate the offer, though.”

      As soon as the words were out, he mentally cringed. Appreciate the offer. As if she’d just suggested he take the window seat and enjoy the view. God, he was lousy at this stuff. Put him in uniform and he had no problem with communication. But when it came to witty repartee, clever conversation or easy dialogue with anyone he hadn’t known for a while, he choked.

      Shane didn’t consider himself shy.

      Shy was for girls and toddlers.

      And it wasn’t that he didn’t know how to handle women. He was damned good when he put his hands on one. He was simply a quiet man who preferred to get the lay of the land, to get a feel for a person, before he opened up. A private man who believed fiercely in walking the talk. Since he didn’t like people prying into his life, into his thoughts, he didn’t ask questions. He figured if someone wanted to share, they would. Damned if most people didn’t share way more than he could imagine anyone wanted to know about all sorts of things.

      As if proving his point, Kathy the blonde took his refusal in good stride. Instead, she dived into a stream of chatter. Resigned, Shane tucked his book into the seat in front of him and gave her the semblance of his attention.

      But he was only half listening. The rest of him was making the mental adjustment from his life in California and his job as a SEAL with its military mindset to dealing with whatever was waiting for him when he got off this plane.

      Since she hadn’t returned any of the messages he’d left, he didn’t know if Sara told anyone he was coming home or not. Either way, it wasn’t going to be pretty. All warning would do was give his mom time to stew.

      It’d been rough enough when his dad had died in a skydiving accident when Shane was seven. He’d left behind a grieving wife, two sons and five daughters. Then in Shane’s senior year of high school his brother, Mike, the oldest of the O’Brian siblings, had been killed in a drag racing accident.

      Molly O’Brian was a strong woman. She was a loving mother. And she was the best cook in the world as far as Shane was concerned. But the loss of her husband and her oldest son had devastated her. She couldn’t handle the idea of her second-to-youngest child, her only remaining son, living in danger.

      And Shane couldn’t set his dream aside. Not even for his mother. When he’d joined the navy right after graduation, she’d had a meltdown, but eventually, with all of his sisters persuading her, she’d dealt with it. If overcompensating by sending care packages that had to be delivered by forklift, insisting he

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