Page 29 of Under Fire

She bit her lip to stay silent, for the moment. She wasn’t scared. He was just too damn hot right then, gripping the wheel, looking ferocious. She didn’t want to interrupt and sat back to enjoy the view.

She hadn’t had the chance to kill off her smile before he turned into a long driveway of a ranch-style home. A dozen cars and pickup trucks were parked alongside the driveway, leading up to the house, twinkling with lights. He parked at the end of the row and turned around to her.

“Let’s get this over with,” he said.

She didn’t miss the unease that had crept into his eyes and his slow, methodological exhale, like he was preparing himself. It was the first time she’d ever seen him that way.

“This should be fun.” Alisa gripped her tiny cross-body purse, fiddling with the strap.

“Like hell.”

“Well, certainly not with that attitude.”

Hand on the door, ready to jump out, Warren shot her one last sultry glare. “That’s why you’re here—to make it fun. Isn’t that what a girlfriend would do?”

“You don’t know?” Alisa asked.

“It’s been a while,” he said.

Before she could say anything back, the man was already out of the truck. She stepped out, walked around then stopped in front of him, adjusting her dress. He stilled, taking her appearance in once again, but that time was like the first time he ever had. It was like he absorbed every detail, trailing up and down her frame. The coolness in his eyes warmed, just a touch, and he held out his hand.

“Ready?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” she said.

Reaching out to take his hand, weathered and calloused, every overstimulated nerve in her body threatened to implode. He ushered her up the long driveway, shooting her occasional glances fueled by lust and desire. She grasped that she was starting to feel something she shouldn’t.

Lock it down, Alisa.

“So, how do we know each other?” she broke through the silence.

“Narcotics Anonymous.”

“Warren.”

“Just be cool. You’ll be fine.” He laughed her off.

“Famous last words.”

Her heart had started beating too fast that evening, and she self-diagnosed as suffering from spontaneous tachycardia. Perhaps she would be needing a bed in the morgue sooner than expected, and she spiraled as he drew her up to the brilliantly lit front door.

She took a deep breath as he knocked, not hesitating to open it, and push her inside a loud room full of striking, energized people—people that she wouldn’t have anything in common with. It felt like everyone in that space was lively and social—andrelaxed. That was the exact moment where Alisa’s body tensed into an ice cube. She just wanted to melt back into her textbooks, melt back into her apartment—where it was safe, where things wouldn’t change. Everything in her mind screamed—what was she doing?

Get out.

“Sir.” A young-looking man nodded at Warren as they entered.

Curt, Warren greeted him, along with many other young men who stood stiffly, respectfully acknowledging what Alisa could only guess was their superior officer. Most of them seemed partially in shock that he was even before their eyes. In fact, as Warren escorted her through the throngs toward the back of the house, it occurred to Alisa that Warren appeared to be superior in rank to…all the men.

Her gaze flitted up to him, the realization dawning on her. He was used to being in charge. And, if that wasn’t going to turn her crank all the way up, she didn’t know what would. Suddenly, she felt the metal of her engagement ring burning her skin, hidden underneath her dress.Don’t feel guilty. Dean has cheated on you since the day he gave you this.

Finally, they found their way into the kitchen, and some drunken blonde woman screamed. “Warren!”

The woman raised her arms, clearly already drunk. She ruthlessly pushed her friends aside, angling to wrap her arms around him, flipping her blonde hair back as she did.

“You came! Crash isn’t going to believe it,” the woman said.

“Jen.” He offered one sharp icy nod and promptly tugged Alisa into him.

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