Tawny Weber - A SEAL's Salvation

“I don’t kiss and tell,” Genna decided. That sounded mysterious, didn’t it? And kinda sexy. Besides, she figured any kissing she did deserved to be savored. Which meant kept to herself, where the gossips and tattletales couldn’t whisper it around.

“You mean you don’t kiss or do anything else,” Dina corrected, rolling her big blue eyes.

“Dina,” Macy moaned, wringing her hands in a way that proved Genna’s assertion that her friend took far too many drama classes. “Don’t encourage her. She’ll do something crazy.”

“Oh, c’mon. It’s not like she’s really going to jump the guy,” Dina retorted. As usual, she’d picked the scariest dare she could think of when they were playing. She’d had no idea it was also her friend’s secret dream. “This is Genna. She’s gonna go in there, because it’s a dare and she can’t resist those. She’ll try to flirt, Luscious Lane will do his brick wall impersonation and it’ll all be over.”

“The dare was to kiss Brody Lane,” Sylvie pointed out quietly, casting a nervous glance toward the golden glow emanating from the garage light twenty feet away. “Genna’s not going in there unless she’s gonna follow through. You know that.”

Genna stood a little straighter, her chin a smidge higher at that character evaluation. She liked being known as a girl who followed through.

She looked toward the garage, the silhouette of a man working on a motorcycle. Since Brody’s dad, Brian, was working behind the counter and probably three-quarters to drunk at the bar next door, that meant it could only be his son in there.

Time to put up or shut up.

“If I’m not back in ten minutes, head home,” she instructed, fluffing her hair and slicking a coat of Racy Red on her lips, then tucking the tube into the back pocket of her jeans. “I’ll call you in the morning.”

Before they could launch into warnings, cautions or any more stupid arguments, Genna hurried off. Her sandals made slapping sounds all the way to the garage like some kind of early-warning seduction device. She shot a quick glance back at her nervously huddled friends, then figuring that warning Brody wouldn’t serve her plans, she slipped off her shoes.

Barefoot, she tiptoed up the last few feet of sidewalk and carefully peeked around the open doorway.

And there he was. Brody Lane, in all his bare-chested glory. Black hair, as stick-straight as her own, fell across his eyes as he bent over the Harley. Facing away from her, she had the perfect view of his denim-clad butt. And oh, what a butt it was. She wanted to touch it. She wanted to run her hands down the hard planes of his back, glowing gold in the poor garage lighting. Then she wanted to curl her fingers over those biceps. Rock-hard arms were so sexy in a guy, she decided then and there.

Genna fanned herself. Because, oh, baby, he was sizzling.

She took a deep breath, hoping it did intriguing things to her form. When a girl wasn’t blessed with a whole lot on top, she learned these little tricks.

Then she stepped through the doorway.

She knew it was impossible given the distance, but she swore she heard a chorus of gasps from her friends. Not looking back, she stepped over the threshold, leaning her shoulder against the door frame; she rested one hand on her hip in a seductive pose she’d seen in a magazine.

And waited.

Nothing.

Genna rolled her eyes. Even when he didn’t know she was there, he ignored her. This definitely had to change.

“Hey, Brody,” she called out, relieved when her voice only shook a little. “How’re you doing?”

His body went still; his head turned. His eyes, golden-brown like a cat’s, narrowed.

Slowly, like a dream, he straightened away from the bike, the light glinting off that sleek golden skin. So, so much skin. Her gaze traveled from the broad stretch of his shoulders down his tapered waist to his jeans, slung low and loose on his hips.

Her mouth went dry. Oh, wow.

“Genna?” He cast a glance behind her, then back with an arched brow. “Joe isn’t here.”

She knew that. After the third screaming match with their father that week, her brother had torn off on his motorcycle before dinner, heading for the highway. To see one of his girls, Genna figured. Leaving the way clear for her to pay a visit to his best friend.

“I’m not here to see Joe.”

Not the answer he’d been expecting, if his frown was anything to go by.

“Then what’s up?” he asked, grabbing a rag and sliding the wrench through it before placing the tool in its spot in the big red toolbox. The area around him was as an oasis of tidy organization compared with the chaos of the rest of the garage. His space versus his dad’s, Genna figured.

At her continued silence, he took a step closer, then stopped. She almost pouted. It was as if he’d heard a signal warning that she was there for something naughty.

“You have a problem with your BMW?” Frowning now, he gave her a quick once-over. Not in a sexy way, more as though he was worried she was hurt.

Genna’s heart sighed. Wasn’t he sweet?

“Nothing’s wrong,” she said, having to clear her throat after pushing the words through a mouth as dry as the Mojave. “So how’re you doing? Is something wrong with your bike?”

It was all she could do not to wince at her own inanity. Seriously, Genna? That’s the best you can come up with? She gave herself a mental slap upside the head as if it’d knock her back to normal. Normal Genna had no problem talking. And she’d spent the last three months practicing her flirting skills for an opportunity like this.

One where it was just her and Brody. Alone. Together.

Time to put all that practice to good use.

“You came to ask about my bike?”

“I came to visit with you,” she corrected, taking another one of those deep breaths. His gaze didn’t drop to her chest, though, so she let it out. No point hyperventilating. It wasn’t going to make her breasts any bigger.

“Why?”

“Why not? You’re a friend of my brother’s. You’re over at our place all the time.” An exaggeration, since he’d been over maybe three times in the last year. Sheriff Reilly didn’t care for troublemakers on his property. But that was beside the point. “You never visit with me, though. I figure it’s because Joe’s such an attention hog. My mom says he takes the title ‘son’ in the wrong way, figuring the whole universe revolves around him.”

She grinned, waiting for him to join her. When he just stared, those gold eyes intent and cautious, she dimmed the smile a little. Obviously friendliness wasn’t something he was overly familiar with. No point scaring him.

“And tonight I was out and about, and saw a light on.” She gestured to the bulb swinging overhead with its halo of moths. “Since Joe’s not around, I figured why not stop by and say hi.”

“If Joe were here, you wouldn’t have bothered?” He looked around, then spying the portable phone, grabbed it. To call her brother?

Genna’s lips twitched. Wasn’t he the gentleman? That’s what was so fascinating about him, though. He didn’t play the games boys her age did. From what she could tell, he didn’t play games at all.

“Do you ever smile?” She wanted to see those lips turn upward and his gaze light up almost as much as she wanted to feel his mouth on hers and his eyes filled with desire.

He didn’t respond. Just tucked his phone into his back pocket, crossed his arms over that sexy chest and stared.

“You gonna tell me why you’re here? You lose a bet or something?”

Won a dare. But he didn’t need to know that.

“I’ll tell you as soon as you smile,” she teased, stepping farther into the garage. She was hit with the scent of hot concrete, metal and oil she associated with car repair, and something else. Something earthy and appealing.