Night Maneuvers - By Jillian Burns Page 0,53

and invited everyone to stay for the reception following in the officers’ club.

Mitch should’ve been over-the-moon thrilled. He should’ve been grinning and shaking his friends’ hands. Having them clap him on the back.

He should’ve been hugging Alex. Kissing her. They should’ve been celebrating together.

Instead, she’d turned away from him and walked out to greet her parents and Jackson and Jordan. Hugging them all. What the…? Neil-the-SEAL approached Hughes and her parents. Hugged her. Shook her dad’s hand.

She should’ve been introducing him to them. Not the SEAL.

But after last night? It was over.

When he saw Jackson and Grady heading toward him, he knew he had to get out of here. He didn’t want to deal with them right now.

He ducked out a side door and headed down a hallway. His walk turned into a jog as he raced down a corridor and found a door leading out.

On the way there this afternoon, he’d had to take a cab to the bar where he’d left his Jeep last night. They’d just barely opened when he got there. The same bartender was there and handed him his keys from the safe in the back.

Glad to have his own transportation, he strode around the corner outside the building, found his Jeep and jumped in. Keys in hand, he started the engine and tore out of the parking lot and off base.

What he needed right now was anonymity. And he wouldn’t get that in his uniform. At his apartment, he changed into jeans and a dress shirt. As he hung his uniform jacket in the closet, he studied the new ribbon on the pocket.

He was Major Mitch McCabe now. A corner of his mouth turned up at the alliteration. Today, he’d achieved a goal he’d had since joining the air force. He ran his fingers over the ribbon, searching for the joy, the pride, the sense of triumph. But he felt none of those things. The damn promotion didn’t mean a thing to him without… He swallowed, hung the jacket up, and got out of his apartment.

Sitting on a stool at his favorite bar at the MGM Grand Hotel, the Centrifuge, he ordered a beer on tap and turned to scan the hotel’s patrons. The bar was mostly empty at three in the afternoon, but the casino itself was busy as always. He spotted a couple of prospects for companionship and observed them for a while, deciding on his next move.

This was what Casanova McCabe did. What he was good at. He’d been happy before. Nobody messing with his psyche, making him think he needed them to be happy. He had to get his mojo back. Had to be that guy again.

And he would. As soon as he made sure the two women were alone. Casanova McCabe didn’t poach. And he might as well finish this beer before he approached them. Besides, there was a game on the television above the bar.

He nursed the beer, kept his eye on the women and watched the game. After his second beer, he realized he’d lost sight of the women. No big deal. Plenty of fish where they came from.

He swung around on his stool and scouted the area, searching for a voluptuous blonde.

“Target sighted?” Jackson said, coming up next to him.

Mitch jumped and swiveled toward his friend. Grady stood behind Jackson, who was still in his suit and tie. Grady was still in his uniform. “What are you guys doing here?”

Jackson grinned and clapped him on the shoulder. “You didn’t give us a chance to congratulate you.”

Grady nodded his way. “Major McCabe.”

“What are you doing here, McCabe?” Jackson took the stool next to him, made eye contact with the bartender and ordered a beer. Grady ordered water. “Looking for a female to help you celebrate?”

Mitch narrowed his eyes. “Abso-freakin’-lutely.”

“So?” Jackson nudged him. “Do you have a target sighted?”

Mitch shrugged. “Maybe.” Damn. His chest tightened, ready to explode. This was where it had all started. With Jackson seeing Jordan across the casino and deciding he was going to get her into his bed. If only they’d gone to the Bellagio that night. “I wish I’d never made that ridiculous bet with you, Jackson.”

“Hey, that turned out to be the best thing I ever did.”

“Best thing for me, too, Major,” Grady broke in. “If I hadn’t lost and you hadn’t suggested I get that massage, my life would be empty right now.”

Mitch grunted. “You’re both still in the honeymoon stage.”

Jackson glanced at Grady, and a look passed between them.