Saving Amber - Zoe Dawson Page 0,10

to start a pot of coffee. He needed the pick-me-up after the night he’d had.

“Someone isn’t a morning person,” she said with a chuckle as she continued to torment him with more impossibly pliant moves.

Fifteen minutes later, he poured himself strong black coffee in a mug that had a bulldog on it and USMC in red beneath it.

He turned and she was now sitting cross-legged on the floor, stretching and thankfully looking as if she was almost finished.

She groaned softly as she folded down over her knees and he gritted his teeth against the sensuous sound. He’d never bunked with a gorgeous woman before, had never cohabitated. He went into the Marines at eighteen and had spent most of his years with a bunch of sweaty guys. The woman who had promised to wait for him didn’t last long, and he’d avoided any type of long-term commitment. So this was a revelation to him. He’d had no idea how…stimulating it could be to watch a woman work out.

He took a sip of his coffee and closed his eyes against the sight of her. The coffee was hot, damn hot, and so was she. She stretched out full-length on the floor and he looked down the length of her body. A damp sheen of sweat covered her skin, especially right in her mouthwatering cleavage.

Beat sweaty guys every time.

His breath caught when she went over her knees again and he noticed ink just beneath the waistband of the sinful shorts. They should be called “come get me shorts” instead of work out shorts.

She rose, stretched one last time, walked toward the kitchen and unabashedly started going through his cabinets. When she found what she was looking for, she pulled it out and set it on the counter.

“You want some pancakes?” she said. She stood close to him and her scent wasn’t at all like she’d been exercising. It was just warm, delicious woman. He took another sip of his coffee and grunted again. Brushing past her, he reached down and snagged his skillet, handing it to her. “Knock yourself out.”

“Bowl?”

He walked over to a cupboard and grabbed a mixing bowl, then handed it to her.

“You’re pretty well stocked for a bachelor.”

He shrugged. “My mom wanted to make sure I had the essentials. I cook sometimes. When the mood strikes me.”

“You make that meat loaf yesterday?”

“Yeah, it’s my mom’s recipe.”

“Not bad, Marine.”

He tried not to be pleased at the compliment. He certainly wasn’t going to acknowledge it.

He leaned back against the counter, realizing that he should get on with his morning routine, but his routine was now tied with this woman. They were going to be working together for at least the day. The colonel had canceled class for today to give his students time to deal with their loss and grief. There were only two classes left and he wasn’t scheduled to teach again for two weeks. One more six-week stint and he would be back to Force Recon.

Tristan’s cell phone rang, and he picked it up off the counter.

“Hey, jarhead! What's shaking?”

“Rock. How the hell are you?” Tristan stepped away from Amber and went to the wide picture window.

“Full of piss and vinegar, as usual. I heard through the grapevine that you’ve had a bad spot out there. You doing okay, buddy?”

Russell “Rock” Kaczewski had been his longest-running scout partner. Tristan’s partners turned over frequently because he was a control freak and most guys didn’t want to work with him. But Rock put up with all his crap and was an exemplary Marine on top of it. Rock had retired from the corps five years ago when Tristan went into Force Recon. They had kept in touch that whole time—well, mostly Rock had.

He now owned a chain of sporting goods stores in the San Diego area.

“I lost a man, Rock.”

“Damn tough. Any confirmation that it’s friendly fire?”

“Not yet.”

Rock’s gruff voice was full of sympathy. “Well, hang in there.”

“I will.”

“I called for another reason. I know your tour’s up, and with the early retirement and bonus they’re offering right now, I wanted to make you an offer.”

“Offer?”

“Yeah, get out. Come work with me. You’ve done your time.”

“Get out? I don’t know, Rock. I’d have to think about it.”

“Sure, sure. I know you’re gung-ho. My business is growing, and you’d be a great asset. You buy in, own half. Partners again.”

“Thanks for the offer. I will consider it,” Tristan said, flattered that Rock would offer him part of something he’d worked so hard

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