Page 18 of Under Pressure

She gulped as this time her gaze shot to his mouth.

“So, what’s it to be?” he asked.

Blue lifted a hand to his chest. “Stay.”

He grinned again, then leaned forward . . . completely skipping her lips to place a kiss on the tip of her nose. She gasped. He pulled away and walked slowly backward with a big, cocky grin on his face. “What are you doing tomorrow night?”

She blinked at him as he continued to retreat. “I said stay,” she said a little harsher than she meant to, but dang it, she wanted that kiss!

“Tomorrow night?” he asked again.

Her brain was all a jumble of racing thoughts that she responded to him without thinking. “Nothing.”

“Wrong, you’re going out with me,” Sean said.

Her heart raced again. “Where?”

Sean shrugged one of his massive shoulders. “It’s a surprise.” He lifted a hand in a wave. “See you at seven?” He didn’t wait for her to answer, just turned, and jogged off.

“You tease!” she yelled after him, getting a deep chuckle in return that sent goose bumps up her arms as he reached his car.

She let herself inside, then slumped against the door and took deep breaths. Her heart was still racing. Racing from their almost kiss. Racing at the thought of seeing him again tomorrow. Racing at all the possibilities of what tomorrow would bring, and the day after, and the day after that, until a smile crossed her lips. She felt . . . happy.

Oh, man. She was in so much trouble. Because she couldn’t ever imagine being around Sean and not feeling happy. She didn’t think it was possible. But there was only one inevitable outcome for them. And in her world, that outcome wasn’t a good one.

She cleared her mind of those thoughts and headed for her room. She didn’t want to think about any of that right now. She just wanted to bask in the glow of this night and not think about the future for once. And for the first time in a long time, that’s exactly what she was going to do.

Tonight, she wouldn’t fall asleep thinking of guns, death, danger, and the blood on her hands. No, tonight she’d fall asleep to the sound of Sean’s deep laughter, his intoxicating smile, and the promise of kisses from his perfectly plump lips to come.

1

Chapter 1

Don

The smell of sugar and bread, cinnamon and chocolate, vanilla and butter filled Don’s bungalow, helping him keep a tentative grip on his emotions. Staying busy was the name of the game, which meant he always had a wooden spoon in his hand, the mixer running, and the oven on.

“Gramps?” Axel entered the kitchen, with Sean and Johnny behind him—Wayne, Don’s son, had left his boys with Don about an hour ago, and they’d hovered ever since. His three massive grandsons stared at him sheepishly, toeing the tile floor, clenching their large fists, reminding him of when they’d been boys and thought he’d be mad at them for exploding a box of flour in the kitchen in their attempt to bake a cake for Amelia’sbirthday. Sean wore his white Navy SEAL dress uniform, and Axel and Johnny were in black suits with different shades of aqua tie—aqua was Amelia’s favorite color.

Don pointed to a tray of cinnamon rolls by the sink. “Cover those in Saran wrap.”

Axel pushed a strand of his dark, shaggy hair behind his ear and headed over to the cinnamon rolls. At least he’d left the leather pants behind today. Amelia would have loved them though. She had that artistic flair in her veins same as Axel. “Don’t you think we have enough pastries for the wake now?”

Sean muttered “no” over a bite of something.

Axel put his feelings into his music. Johnny was the strongest emotionally—probably writing them down and then burning the pages. But Sean, Sean had always been a caretaker, always more inclined to help others than take care of himself. His response every time someone asked for help, “Don’t worry, I’ve got you.” His response when asked how he was?

Well, since Sean’d arrived, he’d had no less than half a dozen pastries. He was eating them like he’d never had a baked good in his life and was belly up to a buffet. That was Sean coping. And Don worried. A lot.

Sean reached for a Cannoli on one of the cookie sheets on the table.

Don lurched forward from his place by the sink, where he’d been whipping up a batch of Gingerbread cake dough, and swatted Sean’s hand with his wooden spoon. “That’s for later.” A splatter of dough fell from his spoon and on to Don’s black Army dress coat hanging off a chair at the table, with all its medals that Amelia shined and admired every time he’d had to wear the thing.

“Ouch,” Sean shook his hand—hadn’t dropped the cannoli though. “Okay, okay.”

The dough somehow, magically, rolled off and splattered on the chair without leaving a mark on his uniform. Don needed to be like that. Impervious.

Johnny smirked at his brother’s distress as he rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt, revealing two tattoos, but even that seemed halfhearted. There had been no real smiles in the house for at least a week—at their last Sunday family dinner with Amelia. “How can I help?”

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