Contents

  Author's Note

  1

  2

  3

  4

  5

  6

  7

  8

  9

  10

  11

  12

  Epilogue

  About

  Author's Note

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  1

  Katie

  I roll the dice and, with a grin of wicked glee, count off as I move the antique silver car to the coveted corner address on the board. Shane narrows his eyes, his long fingers idly moving on the small cowboy he always gets as his marker no matter how much I argue.

  He says nothing as I make my purchase with much giggling and crowing. The only response to my near victory is my older brother, also Shane’s best friend, shouting from the nearby couch, “Aren’t you done yet?”

  “Almost!” I shout back, my voice filled with excitement as I furiously buy buildings for my property portfolio. If Shane lands on just one of my prime properties, I can bankrupt him. It’s really too bad there aren’t any tiny Christmas decorations to hang on the miniature buildings. The real-size basement family room is bristling with tinsel garland and everything else I could find in the bins that my mom wasn’t using upstairs. There’s no theme to it, beyond an over abundance of cheer.

  “Baby,” Shane says calmly in that low gravelly voice that always makes me squirm in my chair, “you need to learn to claim victory after you’ve won it. Not before.” He calmly rolls the dice and moves his tiny cowboy safely out of my holdings. For now.

  “How did you…” I demand with frustration. What I really want to ask is when he calls me Baby like that, does he mean my baby? Or is it just short for his usual nickname for me, Baby Beaumont? Because he calls my brother Pete by our last name, so calling me that too would get confusing.

  Oblivious to my secret yearnings, Shane smirks at me. “You haven’t bested me yet, kid. Why do you think that would start now? Let’s make this interesting. If I win… I want…”

  I wait breathlessly, the dice clutched in my sweaty palm for him to finish that sentence. But my shoulders sag when he finally says, “a batch of your signature chocolate chip cookies shipped to me once a month for a year.” Not that I wouldn’t be happy to bake Shane cookies, but I’ve done it before and it has yet to win me anything beyond a nod of appreciation.

  With a sigh, I roll and move my car forward two spaces. Like cookies, it gains me nothing but a tiny bit more time with Shane.

  Shane picks up the dice. “BB? If by the craziest odds you should beat me, what do you want?” BB is short for Baby Beaumont if you didn’t guess. The man does love nicknames.

  I flick my gaze up at his stern jaw, then down his sweater-clad chest, which I know is as chiseled as a man can get that’s not staring in a mirror while working out. “I want…” I consider all the possible options, from the impossible to the improbable. “I want you to take me with you in the morning.”

  “Hell no, baby. Think of something else.”

  “No. That’s what I want. Are you afraid I can’t keep up? Or maybe you’re afraid that I can. Huh? A woman who never goes to the gym keeping pace with the big bad Navy SEAL.”

  He glares at me. “Not fucking likely. It’s too dangerous. Katie, I’m serious, pick something else.”

  I shrug. “No. That’s what I want. It was your idea to play for stakes. And weren’t you just saying half an hour ago that last year was too easy and you needed more of a challenge?”

  His eyes narrow before he utters what he thinks is the killing blow. “What about your boyfriend, he okay with that?”

  I lift my shoulders dismissively and as breezily as I can. “Oh, we broke up a couple of weeks back. It’s none of his business.” An odd expression passes over Shane’s face. I duck my head slightly in case he’s on to me. None of my supposed boyfriends are real. I make them up over dinner with my friends every few months to keep my brother and Shane from bugging me. Or trying to fix me up with who they consider the ideal man (a kid’s shoe salesman who was saving his virginity for marriage was the final straw). I ‘date’ these imaginary boyfriends for four to six weeks and then move on to the next before anyone starts asking awkward questions about why I’m not bringing him along for family dinners. I officially broke up with the latest imaginary one last week, so nobody would invite him over for any holiday festivities. Nobody but me has a need to know that I’m twenty-four and never been kissed. Technically, that’s all Shane’s fault, anyway.

  Still clueless, Shane finally says, “Fine. If, through some obscure use of the dark powers you manage to win, you can come with me. But…” he holds up his hand to stem my squeal. “IF that happens, you have to do everything I say when I say it. No talking back or God forbid questions about all the various alternatives.”

  I slide my finger over my lips like I’m zipping them and nod enthusiastically. Shane rolls again.

  “Ah, hell,” he utters with disgust a few seconds later as he tries to fit his horse onto the little square brimming over with plastic buildings.

  “I won! I won! I won!” Dancing enthusiastically the length of the family room in my parents’ house, I do a final victory lap around the table before draping my arms over Shane’s shoulders and kissing the top of his head. He stills beneath my hands and I step back, not sure if I’ve gone too far or… if this is something else. I quickly change the subject. Sort of.

  “What time do we leave?”

  Shane glances down at his fancy military watch. “I’m leaving in five hours. If you’re not at the door, dressed appropriately, with only a single backpack for the next week, you might as well sleep in.”

  Ouch.

  Shane

  I’m playing with fire here, even pretending to take BB out into the backcountry. When I could tell she wasn’t going to let go of the idea, I hatched one of my own. It’ll mean I’ll have to move faster than I was planning on the real expedition, but then, as she said, I’ve been wanting more of a challenge. Katie wasn’t the kind I was thinking of, I wouldn’t let myself. She’s still a kid, with that puppy dog enthusiasm for life. The way she churns through boyfriends says it all. Idiots, the lot of them.

  No, I’ll take her out on a pretend trip. One that’s really only a modified circle. We’ll swing by the animal shelter where I was going to leave a donation anyway and spend the night out under the stars. That alone should have her feeling like she’s had an adventure. Then when I suggest bringing her back home, she’ll be more than amenable. Still, I’ve got to survive a night holding her sweet curves, so she doesn’t freeze to death. Maybe that’s what it will take to get her out of my system without actually fucking her. God, the dirty thoughts I’ve had about my best friend’s baby sister the last few years. I’m going straight to hell. Neither Beaumont nor I care that she’s now an adult. She will always be the bubbly kid that refused to take a hint and tagged along everywhere we went. He’d kill me without a second thought if he knew what I’d been thinking lately.

  “Go get some sleep,” I say sharply to Katie. She frowns at me, still dancing from her victory, recounting her real-estate strategy to Pete, who’s looking a little glassy-eyed.

  “Fine. I need to pack anyway.” She bounces out of the room and I watch her go until Beaumont growls, “You had better have a mighty fine plan to return her here exactly as she is now.”

  I grunt in reply. His trust in me is underwhelming. “Relax. I’ll take her by the sanctuary and then spend the night in the state park campground before bringing her back.”

  “You’re going to piss her off no end with that plan.”

  I stare at him. “Why?”

  “She hates being patronized. You and I both know she’s not cut out for your trip, but she doesn’t know it.”

  I grunt again. “What exactly do you suggest, then? I’m not letting her die of hypothermia just to prove the point.”

  Pete glares in response. “Hell if I know. I just don’t want a pissed off Katie here for Christmas. Remember that time we told her to stand guard for alien invaders on the front porch?”

  “And we went out the back to that party at the lake? Man, she was furious. Didn’t speak to me for at least fifteen minutes.” We both grin, remembering how an eight-year-old Katie had struggled with silence. Her frustration had only served to make her angrier. Twenty-four-year-old Katie hasn’t changed all that much. Not in that department, anyway.

  I rub my neck, already regretting telling Katie we’d be leaving so damn early. When it was just me, I’d planned to head out after a generous helping of Mama Beaumont’s French toast.

  “I’ll take care of your precious sister, Beaumont.” I give him a mock salute before heading out the door of the family room. I’ll catch a couple of hours of sleep and then readjust my pack for the temporary second person. Maybe if I’m very lucky, Katie will have second thoughts before we even leave the house.

  “You damn well better,” Pete mutters as he shuts off lights behind me. I head upstairs to the guestroom, wondering once again why I don’t just up and move back to this town. The only place that’s ever really felt like home. My parents retired to Florida five years ago and routinely head out on a Caribbean cruise over Christmas. Not that I blame them, the holidays never got easier after my older brother was killed in action. It was a relief when we all stopped pretending everything was fine. Now, I guess, we have new traditions of sorts.

  They do t heir cruise and always call me on the day and I have my annual Santa challenge that lets me get my mind off things (like Katie’s perfect ass) by using some of my rusty SEAL survival skills. It’s always a little too easy without any actual enemies besides Mother Nature, but it still beats the civilized alternatives. Then I spend actual Christmas with my old mates, drinking beer and grimacing while Feeney attempts once again to fart Jingle Bells. Would you believe he’s the only one of us that is married? His wife, Jennie, is an absolute sweetheart who says he needs to get this out of his system now before they have kids. None of us have the balls to tell her that Feeney is probably just going to teach their kids how to do it too.

  I try to picture the look of horror on BB’s face if she were in the same room with Feeney during one of his performances. She’s not a prude, but she is shy with strangers. I always wonder where she manages to find all these boyfriends so fast.

  2

  Katie

  I’m not stupid. I expect Shane will try to safely ditch me as soon as he can. He’s way too protective to let me come to any harm, but I want more than that. I need to see into his world just a little bit. I know he’s never going to invite me to live there, but I’d like to at least visit.

  Shane is pretty much the perfect man in my book. Aside from the part where he treats me like an honorary little sister, anyway. When I was sixteen and awkward as fuck, he came to visit Pete when he was home on leave and I hugged him. It started like any other hug I’d ever given him, but that time I lingered without realizing it. Maybe because he’d been gone for so long, but mostly because he smelled good. And he felt good.

  And somehow he knew just the right words to say to an embarrassed teenager when he gently pulled me off of him that made me idolize him even more. He told me ever so sincerely how important it was he get back to his team, that he wasn’t allowing himself to notice that I had the most delectable ass he’d ever seen.

  I lived off that compliment for the rest of high school and well into college. It got me through the teasing by the girls and being ignored by the boys. Until I strained my neck, trying to determine if the extra ten pounds I’d gained eating in the dining hall had changed my ass past all recognition.

  I never did catch Shane even glancing at my rear end, and I finally had to conclude he was simply being kind that day. The few times I did see him while he was still in the Navy, I was very careful to act around him the way I had before that big moment. I didn’t need him to know that he was the standard to which I now held every other male on the planet that I wasn’t directly related to. By the way, they all fell short. Nobody treated me like I was anything more than convenient. One guy who asked me out didn’t even wait for my answer before informing me that I was the best he could do until he made more money! He looked flabbergasted when I turned him down. Like somehow that wasn’t supposed to happen.

  Now that Shane’s left the military, he continues to treat me like an adorable borrowed little sister and I let him. When I finally figured out sometime in college that he was too polite to let Pete tell me to get lost when they were hanging out together, I started giving myself a time limit. An hour if there are other people in the room, like my parents. Twenty minutes if it’s just him and Pete. Unless, like tonight, he initiates a board game. Obviously I can’t just leave in the middle of that!

  I never have to set a timer for being alone with him, though. That just never seems to happen. I quickly got very good at giving excuses for meeting up with friends and then fake boyfriends. Even though there was really no place I’d rather be and I usually just went to the mall and walked around like a lost person. Once I was out of school and had my own place, it was easier because at least I could escape back to my apartment without anyone being the wiser.

  I’m happy in my own little world. Happy enough, anyway. I’ve got a decent job working in the back office of the school department, a good group of friends and a cute little apartment on the other side of the city from my parents. Close enough to come by for dinner occasionally and far enough that my mom doesn’t drop in without calling first. Perfect. Really.

  And boring as hell, if I’m being completely honest. Nothing new ever really happens. It’s a nice, safe, even pleasant, routine life. A secret part of me craves wild adventure. But it’s not a big enough part to drown out the safety-conscious, anxious part of me. Shane will keep me safe and he embodies adventure — of every conceivable kind. Minus the drugs and other stuff I don’t have any desire to experiment with. I’ve never seen him have more than one beer, but he sent Pete a video once of him rappelling down a sheer cliff. The camera didn’t even show the ground so I know it was scary high.

  I sigh, thinking about what I don’t know about Shane. I’m going through my closet and pulling out every conceivable thing from my teen years that might still sort of fit and could act as a layer under my purple puffer jacket. I’m only staying over because the roads are icy and my mom and dad got that look. The one that says if I go back to my apartment I’ll have to call the instant I step foot inside my door and again in the morning to make sure I haven’t gone out without clearance. It’s easier just to stay over in my old room.

  Pete and Shane never discuss women in front of me. I’m sure it started when they were teenagers and I was tiny. Back when they didn’t want to get in trouble for teaching me stuff my parents didn’t want me to know. But they’ve stuck to that habit religiously ever since. Almost like they really are monks, but I know they’re not. And I know they’re not gay, not that I would care when it comes to Pete. But losing Shane to the other team would be an absolute travesty. I digress. What I’m really trying to say is I have no idea how wild he gets in the bedroom. I think I want to know, but I’m not entirely sure about that.

  So I’m going to do my darndest to make him take me the whole way to the SEAL compound high in the mountains. A few days alone with him should satisfy a lot of the questions burning within me. Even if I don’t get to answer the bedroom ones. And besides, the place sounds magical, with small families living in different styles of houses tucked in among the trees and the wildlife. How awesome to see it all decorated for Christmas! I know it won’t be fancy like a town that’s trying to get in the tourists, but that makes it even more special in a way.

  Not to mention all the single SEAL guys hanging out there. If I can’t have Shane, maybe that’s the place to look for a close second?

  Shane

  I’m grumpy beyond all recognition when I haul my ass downstairs. It’s too goddamn early. Which means I’m getting old. I never complained when I used to head out on missions at this hour. Of course, this lacks the same kind of adrenaline rush and the Navy never waved the promise of French toast in front of my nose if only I’d stay in bed a little longer. Quite the opposite, really.

  On top of that, Katie is already downstairs bouncing on the soles of her feet, wearing some damn purple marshmallow and clutching a flowered backpack to her chest that’s bursting at the seams. And then she smiles wide and I groan. It’s like I’m being sent out to torture kittens before breakfast. I don’t want to rub her nose in the fact that she’s a soft and cuddly civilian. I like her just fine that way.

  “Baby…” I start in, ready to convince her to stay behind.

  “Are you ready? I’m been waiting here for at least twenty minutes.”

  I frown down at her. “How the hell are you this wide awake at fucking four am?”

  Her smile doesn’t even dim. “Because I’m excited.”

  The human personification of a fluffy kitten beams up at me with complete and soul-searing trust.

  “Coffee?” I give in to her. Let’s face it, she can have anything she wants from me.

  “Right here.” She pats an ancient plaid thermos that I vaguely recognize from her dad’s fishing gear. I grunt in acknowledgment and then dig around in the outer pocket of my pack.

  Pulling out the regulation fleece Santa hat, I pull it down over her head so it covers her eyes.

  “Hey! What’s this?”

  “Regulation. That was last year’s, so you’d better wear it at all times.” I tug on my own hat with this year’s patch.

 

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