Saving Amber - Zoe Dawson Page 0,11
to make a success.
Rock’s voice dropped an octave. “Really think about it, buddy.”
But his loyalty to the corps weighed on him. The corps was all he knew, and they had supported him and stood by him through that ordeal in Banyan.
He disconnected the call and wandered back into the kitchen.
Knowing that he was just asking for trouble, but wanting to know about her, he said, “Where you from that you don’t know it snows in California?” He was quite aware of his tone but didn’t moderate it to a friendlier one.
She gave him a sidelong glance and a sheepish grin. “Vermont. Stowe.”
He laughed and it felt rusty. He hadn’t laughed in a long time. “That’s good.”
She simply stared at him and, for a second, dropped her guard. It unsettled him the way she looked at him. It could be something totally different than that she was attracted to him. Could be his wishful thinking, but he amended that. It would be better if her guard was up. It would make it easier on him. He was a grumpy bastard on a good day.
Finally, she said, “I didn’t say I didn’t know about snow. Just never realized it snowed here. But to be honest, I was pretty pissed when I left DC and my focus wasn’t on the assignment. You’re right. I should have done my homework.”
“What were you pissed about?”
She looked tired, as if she hadn’t slept, but if he wasn’t mistaken, she was also more than a little unsettled. Whether that was by what was going on here or by something else entirely, he had no idea. He didn’t know Amber or what was going on in her personal life. A salient point—he made a personal note.
Her cell rang. She looked at it and then angrily pushed the ignore button. She dumped flour into the bowl and added milk, egg and other dry ingredients. “I’m pissed about being…ah…detoured.” She rubbed her nose and left flour there. She started stirring. “It seems I was convenient to send.”
Yup. There was something she wasn’t telling him, all right, but since he kept his own counsel, he wasn’t going to push her. He shouldn’t even be doing this…casual conversation or getting to know her. He didn’t want to like her. She was an NCIS agent. Lust was a different thing altogether. He was too confused about where he was going and had too much emotion tied up in the corps to deal with any type of attraction.
“I go where the Marines send me. I don’t talk back.”
Jeez, she looked good in his kitchen. He’d been in lust before, had even come close to falling a few times in his life, but he’d never really much thought about domestication. His focus had been wholly on his military life. His liaisons were just that—meager and spaced apart, usually opportunistic. He’d always had the need to get back to his own personal space more strongly than the desire to live under one roof with anyone.
She snorted. “Really? I bet you do when you have something to say.”
“You got me there.” He smiled again. She definitely had an effect on him. “Okay, so I don’t usually talk back.”
“You been in for some time?”
He shifted, the need to wipe that flour off her nose a compulsion but taking a sip of his coffee instead. “Fifteen. Went in at eighteen. Have only known the corps,” he said, keeping his face expressionless, his tone of voice flat and professional. “It’s always come first.”
She scowled at that. Not that she had any dibs on him. He was potent. That’s all. She was reacting to him with his tough-guy stance, tousled hair and beard-shadowed jaw, and the obvious required reality check she needed.
He was closed. Buttoned up tight. Rude. Well, mostly rude. It was clear he was reacting to her as an NCIS cop. Of course, he was. He certainly couldn’t be reacting to her as a woman. Gorgeous men like him went after women like her sister, Sammy.
It was true she dealt with alpha men all the time. First during her tour with JAG, then working with Chris, Beau and Vin at her current job. She’d had her share of challenging men.
It was also hard to believe that Tristan Michaels was thirty-three. He looked younger than that.
She set the skillet on the stove and checked the batter while he watched her intently. It was unnerving to have so much power focused on her.
While the skillet was heating, she poured herself some