Night Maneuvers - By Jillian Burns Page 0,2

on his sword, and now Jackson, slipping the matrimonial noose around his neck.”

“Jordan and Lily aren’t like Luanne, Mitch,” Hughes said.

Pain stabbed his chest at the mention of her name. He couldn’t believe Hughes had brought up his ex. Hughes knew, more than anyone else, how Luanne had destroyed him. “All women are the same, Hughes.”

She glared at him, her hands curled into fists. “Are you saying I’m like Luanne?”

He blinked down at her. “No, but you’re not really like…a woman.”

Hughes’s eyes narrowed to slits, and splotches of red appeared on her cheeks. “Not like a woman?” She ground the words between her teeth.

“Of course not.” How could that piss her off?

“McCabe, you may be the most clueless male on the planet. If I didn’t think it would upset Jordan, I’d take you outside right now and rip you a new one.”

Mitch smiled. This was the Hughes he knew how to deal with. “You and what squadron?”

The bride and groom approached and Hughes gave McCabe a menacing glare before turning to accept Jordan’s hug.

Jackson slapped him on the back and pulled him in for a one-armed hug. “McCabe, you dog. Your thirty days start today, buddy,” Jackson announced.

Mitch stiffened. “What?”

“Remember last year you lost the bet and had to play monk for a month? You couldn’t believe I was thinking of settling down with Jordan. And you once said if I ever got married you’d do without for another month.” Jackson lifted one brow.

“Now, wait a minute.” Mitch shook his head. Dread hit him low in the gut. “That wasn’t technically a bet.”

Jackson’s mouth crept up in a slow grin. “So, you don’t stand by your word.”

“Of course I do!” Mitch’s insides chilled as the legitimacy of Jackson’s challenge settled over him like a bad case of the flu. He’d forgotten he made that promise to his buddy. Celibate for another thirty days? Last time he’d been somewhat prepared. Not because he was sure Jordan would give in and sleep with Jackson, but mostly because Mitch hadn’t minded going without if that meant his buddy had a good time with the beautiful blonde. He shoved his hands into his pockets and turned on his heel, scowling at the ground. One glance at Hughes showed her smirking. The angry, hell-bent glint in her eye gave him the willies.

Jackson clapped him on the shoulder, bringing Mitch’s attention back to the departing couple just as Jackson turned to his smiling bride and gave her a deep, promising kiss. The jerk did it just to rub in what Mitch would be missing.

Then, with one last wave, the newlyweds headed outside to their waiting limo. At the door, Jordan glanced over her shoulder and tossed her bouquet.

Mitch felt a small measure of satisfaction when the cluster of flowers slapped Hughes in the face and landed in her hands before she could duck for cover. “Damn it,” she mumbled.

He chuckled. “Jordan should have been a bombardier with that kind of aim.”

Hughes turned on him, her eyes blazing like laser-guided missiles. “You better get a wrist brace, McCabe.” She gave him a surprisingly wicked smile. “’Cause for the next thirty days, your right hand’s gonna be your best buddy.” She marched out the door.

Geez, what had he ever done to her?

2

NOT LIKE A woman? Alex fumed. That was the third time McCabe had accused her of not being a woman. They were fighting words Alex could ignore no longer.

Of course, she’d strived her entire career to be treated equally. To not be thought of as a weak female. But still, it wasn’t as if she was some genderless life-form. She was a woman.

And now that McCabe had gotten himself celibate again, this was the perfect time to show him just how true that was.

Within seven days, she’d formulated a plan and put it into action. Once Jordan returned from her Bahamas honeymoon, Alex had called to beg her help with a makeover. And Jordan hadn’t hesitated when Alex explained her mission. In fact, she’d heard Jordan squeal before she shouted a resounding yes!

But now, after spending almost four hours being peeled, plucked and processed at a salon, and another three shopping at Jordan’s favorite department store, Alex was rethinking her need to teach McCabe a lesson. “How do women do this all the time?” she whined as she tried to balance in the four-inch stilettos. “I’d rather shovel manure from my parents’ stables.”

“Hey, do you want to make Casanova McCabe pay, or don’t you?”

“You’re right.” Alex squared