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Authors: Jennifer LaBrecque

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BOOK: In the Line of Fire
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Neither of them spoke as he headed north on the expressway. He pulled out his cell phone. “I'm going to call my mother and tell her not to expect us back today. Much longer and both yours and mine are going to be worried.”

Andi drew a deep breath. “No. I'll call. I'm the one who ran. I'm the one who wants to go on this trip. I couldn't talk to her earlier, but now I have to. You can talk to your mother if you want to afterward but I need to make the initial call.”

Colton nodded, placing his phone in the middle console. He admired and respected her for that. Andi looked at him. “But I'm going to tell you right
now that I have no intention of telling Mom where we're going. She doesn't exactly respect boundaries. She'd be showing up before we could blink. Unfortunately, that means you can't tell your mother either because my mother would hound it out of her sooner or later.”

“I'm fine with not telling my mother where I am. I'm a big boy and I don't need to report to her, I just didn't want them worried when we didn't show up.” And no, he sure as hell didn't want them showing up.

“Nope. I'll take care of that.” Andi turned on her phone. “Wow. Lots of messages. That's no surprise.” She scrolled down and pressed a button. “Hi, Mom… Yes, I'm fine. Look, I'm really sorry…You do? You understand? Are you okay…? You think it was unfair of you to expect me to marry Blanton when he's like watching paint dry? Where are you, Mom…? Can you put her on the phone?” Andi said to him, “She's putting your mother on the phone…Yes, ma'am, I am… He knows you're not happy. Is my mother okay? Ah, Chablis. While I have you on the phone, Colton and I are, uh, going to take a detour. We figure we could both use a break so we're going to take advantage of the next few days and take a little bit of time before we head back to Savannah. If you'll put my mother back on the phone, I'll let her know.” She held up her right hand, her middle finger crossed over her index finger. “No, ma'am, we're not really sure where we're
going. We're just going to give the dust time to settle there and drive until something strikes our fancy. Yes, ma'am, I'll let her know if you hand her the phone back…Mom? I was just telling Ms. Martha Anne that Colton and I are going to take a couple of days before we come back to Savannah…No, we did not plan this.” Another round of crossed fingers. “No, not yet. No, I'm not going to tell you when we decide…For goodness sake, Mother, it's Colton.”

Thank you, Andi.
He'd just been thoroughly emasculated by her disdain. As if she'd read his thoughts she gave him a saucy smile and wink that said she was simply shutting down Daisy's objections.

“Yes, once we get somewhere and I have some privacy I'm going to call him…I'm very much aware I owe him an explanation. Yes, I'm going to call… No, I'm not going to tell you where I wind up staying. Mom, I'm going to get off the phone now. I love you…and you might want to lay off the wine…Yes, I know you were upset. Yes, I know you had good cause, I'm just saying. I love you, Mom…I will…I'll call. Later. 'Bye.”

She clicked off the phone and looked at Colton. “Oh, my God. Our mothers must be sucking down wine like it's water. Your mother was fine but I swear mine was one step away from being three sheets to the wind.”

“Stress and adrenaline coupled with alcohol will
do that. Obviously they both wanted to know where we're going.”

“Of course. So, do you have some girlfriend waiting up in Natick that you need to call to let her know you'll be traveling?”

“Are you trying to find out if I have a girlfriend?”

She dipped her head in acknowledgment. “As a matter of fact, I am.”

“I don't. When you know you're going into a war zone for at least a year, it seems unfair to get involved with anyone just to leave them.”

“Oh. I never thought of it that way. You know, Colton, some women would consider it an honor to wait on you.”

Her words, softly spoken, hung between them, almost as a declaration. He watched the road, but he could feel her looking at him. Emotion thickened the air between them. They passed the exit that would've taken them back home. It felt like passing the point of no return. God knows, his longing for her had reached an all-new level.

“Is that why you've never married?” There was a quiet intensity to her question.

He couldn't lie to her. “In part.”

“In part?”

“That and the right woman never was available.”

“So does that mean you found the right woman?”

Andi could be as relentless as their mothers. “It
means that's why I'm not married. Don't read more into it than that.”

She cocked her head to one side. “You know I had the worst kind of crush on you from about ten to thirteen before you and Rion went away to college.”

She'd had a crush on him? “Really?” He'd had no idea.

“You didn't know?”

“No clue.”

“Are you serious? I thought you were the best-looking boy in Savannah.” She looked at him across the distance of the front seat, her look searing him. He clenched the steering wheel tighter to keep his hands to himself. “I've changed my opinion now.”

“That's no surprise.” He stole a quick glance at her tempting décolleté. “Considering you've grown up.”

“Ah, you
did
notice.” The husky note in her voice seemed to stroke along his nerve endings. “I don't think you're the best-looking boy in Savannah anymore.” She moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue. “I'd say you qualify as the best-looking man these days.”

6

“W
HAT DO YOU THINK?
Half an hour?” Colton said when they pulled into the parking lot of the supercenter.

He had to be kidding. “At least forty-five minutes. I've got to outfit myself from head to toe—and buy a suitcase.” A woman walked by in the parking lot, pushing a cart. She did a double take and then smiled at the two of them. “Not to mention everyone in the store is probably going to stop me because they're going to have a comment or question about me showing up in a wedding dress.” A horrifying thought came to her. “I won't be able to try anything on.”

“But you know what size you wear.” Colton might be logical to the nth degree but he wasn't getting it.

“It's not like men's clothes. Different brands fit differently and sometimes you don't know until you've got something on that it's going to be butt-faced ugly on you or make you look fat.”
Think, Andi, think
. She'd always thought well on her feet.

“I don't see how you're going to try anything on with that dress.”

She had a stroke of brilliance. “I have an idea and it will ultimately make everything go faster and smoother. You go in and buy me one outfit I can change into. Bring it to the car. We'll drive around to the back of the store and you can step outside while I change in the car. Grab a change of clothes for yourself while you're in there and your shopping will go faster too because I'm sure the uniform gets comments and attention.”

“You want me to buy you a dress?”

He was so cute. The man lived in a state of danger and was in command of God knows how many troops, but he looked nearly done in at the prospect of having to buy a dress for her. “Just grab me a dress and a pair of flip-flops. Trust me. This will work so much better than me trailing around in there in this getup.”

A family walked by and a little girl with blond ringlets pointed and waved. Her mother and father eyed them with an indulgent smile. Andi automatically waved back.

“I think you're on to something,” Colton said. “That dress is definitely an attention grabber.” She knew without a doubt the neckline had caught his attention more than once. She'd felt him looking at her. What she wanted, however, was more than looking. With near desperation she wanted to feel his hands
and his mouth on her flesh. Likewise she wanted her hands and mouth on him.

“So is the uniform, Major Sawyer.”

He gave an exaggerated sigh. “What kind of dress?”

She laughed but there was something sweet and intimate about the moment. It reminded her of some of the exchanges between her own parents that were vague memories. Her parents had been totally devoted to one another.

“Something that fits loose,” she said. “I'll write down my dress and shoe size.” That was a little embarrassing. She'd tried dieting hard the past month but had wound up feeding her nerves. And, well, eating half the Waffle House menu a while ago hadn't done much to further her diet. “Do you have something I can write on?”

He leaned over to reach past her into the glove box, his arm bumping against her knee, his dark head and broad shoulders temptingly close to her. Her breath caught in her throat and her pulse raced. “Mmm,” she said. “You smell good.”

Colton closed the glove box and retreated back to his side of the car. “Thanks,” he said, his eyes darkening. “So do you.” He handed her a notepad and pen, his fingers brushing hers, sending a sizzle through her.

Andi jotted down the sizes and started to pass it back to him. “Wait. Let me make a note on dress
colors. No red, orange or gray. I look ghastly in all of those.”

“I can't imagine you'd look bad in anything.”

Every look, every word made her heart beat faster. “Thank you. I'd rather not prove you wrong on that so let's just skip those colors.”

“I tell you what. I'll find a dress, take a picture with my camera phone and send it and you text me back.”

Andi grinned. “Got to love that engineering brain of yours. Here's my cell number.” She waited until he had his phone in hand and then she gave him the number.

He smiled at her, her coconspirator. “I'll send a photo, ASAP.”

She watched him stride across the parking lot, head up, shoulders back, carriage erect. Good grief, but he was beautiful—both inside and out. It was a small wonder she hadn't gotten over him.

And she wasn't the only one who noticed how fine he was. The uniform was an attention getter but so was the man wearing it. Women of all ages in the parking lot turned for a second and third look. That didn't particularly sit well with Andi, not that she had any right to feel territorial, but… And charmingly, Colton seemed totally oblivious. But then again, he was a man on a mission.

Getting out of her dress was going to be another feat that required his assistance. The idea of his hands
moving down her back, methodically unbuttoning her dress, exposing her back, sent a rush of heat through her.

Her cell phone rang with a text and she looked at the picture of the dress that appeared on-screen. It was a sunny yellow with cap sleeves, a low-cut bodice that was fitted through the top and then flared out and down. It would look good on her and she was glad he had picked out the yellow. It was a happy color. She texted back Perfect.

Andi knew it would take him a few minutes to pick up his stuff and her flip-flops. She needed to suck it up and call Blanton now, while Colton was gone, and get that off of her plate.

Before she weenied out and changed her mind, she scrolled through and pushed the call button when she got to his name. She thought it was about to go to voice mail when he picked up.

“Yes?” He sounded pissed. Not that she blamed him and not that she had expected otherwise. She'd be equally unhappy if he'd jilted her—well, maybe.

“Blanton, I'm sorry—”

“Do you have any idea how embarrassing that was? I was standing there like a fool when Lola came in and announced you'd just left with Colton Sawyer. Did the two of you plan this? Have you been involved with him?”

“I know it must have been terribly embarrassing and I'm sorry I handled it the way I did. I just didn't
know what else to do because you and I don't need to be married.”

“You picked a hell of a time to reach that conclusion,” he said. “That's not true, Andi.” His voice cracked. “Come back, honey, and we'll work this out. I don't understand. We went through counseling.” His minister had required it. “And we were good. Reverend Williams said we were good to go. I thought we were okay. What happened, honey?”

She'd never felt so torn in her life. It would be so much easier if Blanton was a jerk, but he wasn't, he was a decent guy and they'd planned a life together. How could she tell him Colton Sawyer was what happened? How could she tell him she didn't love him? How could she tell him she'd thought she was over Colton but had discovered at the eleventh hour she wasn't? She wanted some neat, tidy way to handle this and there wasn't any.

“Blanton, you're a good guy but I realized today I don't love you the way I should to marry you.”

“I think you do. I think you just got cold feet. We can work through this, Andi.”

She wanted to cry. “We can't, Blanton. It's not cold feet.”

“It's Sawyer, isn't it?”

How could she say yes? And of course, the answer was yes. A thousand fold. And she wasn't about to tell Blanton that. “No. It's not Colton.” And technically she was wrapped up in Colton but she hadn't been
involved. “How could I have been involved with him when he's been in Afghanistan?”

It hadn't occurred to her that everyone would assume she and Colton were an item when they left together like that. And now that they were going to spend a few days together, tongues would really be wagging. Let them. As men went, Colton was the cream of the crop.

“It doesn't matter. At this point I believe I've dodged a bullet. You're obviously mentally ill.”

What? “Mentally ill? You've got to be kidding. Just because I don't want to marry you? That in no way, shape, form or fashion means I'm mentally ill.” Dealing with his anger was so much easier than dealing with his pleading. “In fact, based on
that
dumb-ass comment I think it shows incredibly sane, good judgment on my part.”

“You're a head case. And by the way, I'm still going on the honeymoon and you can still pay your half of it.”

“I don't think so.” She'd paid attention to the cancellation policy when they'd booked it. They'd forfeit a couple of hundred bucks for late cancellation but the rest was totally refundable. “I'll pay the cancel fee but you're on your own for the rest.”

“Patrice is going with me,” he said, obviously expecting the news to wound her. Oddly, the only emotion Andi felt at the news was a bit of satisfaction that her instinct that her maid of honor had a thing for
Blanton had been correct. And this was a far cry from him asking her to come back and work things out. What would have happened to his backup plan with Patrice if Andi had been willing to come back? She didn't care enough to even ask. Patrice was welcome to him.

“Y'all have fun. Tell her she'd better pack some No-Doz.”

“Oh, I definitely dodged a bullet. The humiliation was worth not being stuck with you.”

Colton was walking through the parking lot. Plus, she had nothing left to say to her former fiancé. “Goodbye, Blanton.”

“By the way, my mother wants the string of pearls she gave you back, and I, of course, expect my ring back. And another thing—”

Andi hit the off button, ending the call as Colton opened the rear door. “Your mother again?”

“Blanton. He said I'm obviously mentally ill for leaving him at the altar.”

Colton laughed, long and hard. “That's good. You're nuts if you don't want to marry him, right?”

She grinned. “Apparently.” She had forgotten how much she loved Colton's laugh. She'd always enjoyed hearing it. It was a rich sound that seemed to come from deep inside him.

“Okay, nut job, let's drive around to the back so we can change clothes.”

It couldn't happen soon enough in her book. The
bodice of the dress had been a tight fit to begin with and now that she'd eaten she could hardly breathe. And there was the not-so-inconsequential matter of her needing to go to the bathroom after two glasses of sweet tea.

“I'm more than ready for you to get me out of this dress,” she said.

He did a double take. “What?”

“The buttons. I can't unbutton this thing.” She reached behind her to her neck and undid the first one. “Well, I can do a couple at the top, and the last half dozen but otherwise I'd have to be a contortionist. Don't sweat it, Major, I'm sure you can unbutton a dress just fine.”

 

H
E HAD DEFINITELY NOT
signed on for this. Buying clothes for her had been one thing but now he was supposed to unbutton her wedding dress? It was too much. Too intimate. Obviously she had no idea how he felt about her. She had no idea it had been more than a year since he'd actually touched a woman, much less her. And there wasn't a damn thing he could do except sit here and free her from her wedding dress. There was no logical, reasonable way to refuse.

“Can you shift a little more to your left?” he asked.

She canted a little farther in that direction. “Better?”

No, it wasn't better. Andi had undone the top
several pearl closures. Tendrils of her red hair curled against the exposed, pale skin of her neck. The air in the car suddenly seemed thick and heavy with her scent, her mere presence and the desire thrumming through him. He should simply tell her he was taking her home, that he didn't need to be part of her Grand Adventure but he couldn't, he wouldn't.

Instead, mustering every ounce of self-control he possessed, he reached forward and worked the small pearl though the loop. One down, about fifty gazillion to go. He swallowed hard. He could do this. He was a major in the United States Army. She was one woman who needed her dress unbuttoned. He began to mentally recite the army soldier's creed as he moved to the next.
I am an American Soldier. I am a Warrior and a member of a team.

She had beautiful skin. He refocused.
I serve the people of the United States and live the Army Values
. Distracted, he was careless and his knuckles skimmed her pale flesh. He could've sworn he felt a tremor pass through her, or perhaps that was his own reaction, but there was no mistaking her indrawn breath.

The silence between them vibrated tension. He had the most crazy, irrational urge to test his lips against that soft satin skin he'd just exposed. “So,” he said, but his voice came out hoarse and rusty. He cleared his throat and tried again. “So.” Much better. “How's work been?”

“It's been good.” She sounded breathless. “Actually,
better than good,” she continued in a rush. “My online business has exploded and I picked up a couple of new boutiques that are selling on consignment.”

Her art. Her jewelry. Earrings and necklaces. “That's…uh…great.” Her bra, or at least the portion he'd just revealed, was a white-lace affair with no snaps in the back which meant a man would have to reach between her breasts to unfasten it.
I will always place the mission first. I will never accept defeat.
“So, are you still working part-time at the…uh…other place?”

“I'd quit. I was busy getting ready for the wedding and then Blanton didn't want me working there after we were married, said it didn't look good for a junior executive's wife to work at the mall.” She twisted, looking at him over her shoulder. “That was another red flag. Would you do that? Insist your wife not work or be specific about what she could or couldn't do career-wise?”

He paused and her lips parted, a light of inquiry in her eyes, and for the life of him not only could he not momentarily remember the question, he wasn't even sure if he could recite his name, rank and serial number, which was right up there with breathing for a soldier. Oh, right…controlling a wife's career…. “I would never insist she not work or put restrictions on her career, but for a lot of army wives, it's difficult—the moves to different bases every couple of years, the long absences from home. Inevitably whether it's fair
or not, the soldier's career takes precedence, and if you're raising a family with one partner gone, that can make a career pretty difficult. So, my career comes with enough built-in limiters for a spouse. I would never throw any out there on my own.”

BOOK: In the Line of Fire
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