“No. I’ll feel stupid.” She felt stupid for even worrying about feeling stupid. “They won’t find anything, and I’ll feel like an idiot for calling.”
Grumbling on the other end, he said, “You have a Navy SEAL living above your garage. Call Zane.”
“No. He’ll think I’m crazy, and I don’t have his number anyway. You’re my cousin, a SEAL,andare about to be a police officer. And you’re sleeping with my roommate, and she’d want to know what’s going on. Can you see why I calledyou?”
“I’ll take care of it,” his gravelly voice relented as he clicked off.
Feeling even sillier as each passing second raised more doubt that the entire thing had been her imagination, she was at least going to be smart in case she wasn’t hallucinating. She snuck from room to room, checking that all the doors and windows were locked tight.
Tapping her fingernails on her teeth, she stood in the hallway, unsure if she should just go back to bed, or wait to hear back from Asher.
Another minute went by, according to the sixty ticks of the hall clock.
The doorbell chimed chipperly, echoing from wall to empty wall before buzzing her eardrums. Wow, that was fast. Leaping up, she rapidly tiptoed to the front door and whispered through the dense wood, “Asher?”
A growl on the other side said, “It’s Zane.”
Great. Asher’s genius plan was to call Zane. Huffing an exhale big enough to shift her hair out of her face, Freya accepted that her new neighbor was going to think she was a fraidy cat.
Unlocking the deadbolt, she opened the door just enough for him to slide inside.
Knocking her on her metaphorical ass like a meteor plummeting into her chest, a wallop of blazing-hot pheromones rocketed at her. Like a photon blast or superhero serum, the effects of it fueled her veins. He was…
Tall. Built. Ripped. Okay, so maybe she was being dramatic, but holy shit, she’d seen attractive men before, but Zane emitted one hundred percent Freya-altering pheromones.
Midnight forest eyes held dark secrets. Those lips were somewhere between pouty and stern, yet hinted at a wicked sense of humor… and could kiss all night without coming up for air. Big hands that would fit perfectly over her…
She nearly choked on her own saliva as she tried to remember how to breathe. How to stand. How to use her useless brain that would be irreparably rewired.
Okay, Freya, stop staring at the Norse god standing in front of you. Holding back the blushing giggle she hadn’t heard herself make in a damn long time, she bit her lips together and tried not to pant. “Hi.”
Middle of the fucking night, and his new neighbor, great ass that she may have, got spooked and needed someone to come scare away the big bad wolf. He tossed his phone back on the bed and contemplated the many ways he was going to kick Asher’s ass for this later.
And he’d just fallen asleep. Dammit, Asher knew what it was like those first few weeks out. Between the nightmares of the day Jack got hurt, among many messed-up-as-fuck ops they’d been on, he still jerked out of bed every few hours, thinking the rest of the team had been called out on a mission, and he’d slept through it.
Tossing on a pair of jeans, he grabbed a shirt, clicked off the music he had blasting in his headphones to keep the monsters at bay, and paused at the door.
What if she was right? Fuck. He shook his head, hating the damn indecision. If there were really a shooter out there, he’d tell her to lock up and lay low, that neither of them should be going outside right now. Not much chance they were targeting either of them.
But she was probably wrong. This adorable little town probably hadn’t had a murder or violent crime in the last half century.
And if she was too chickenshit to call the cops like she should, she might spend the whole night sobbing in the bathtub. Wouldn't be the worst hostage rescue he'd pulled off. Five, maybe ten minutes, and he’d be back in his own bed.
Rubbing the sleep from his bleary eyes one last time, he pulled on his shoes and checked outside through the windows, then slipped out the door. Nothing unnatural about the night; he heard only the wind rustling through the trees in the distance. Sticking to the shadows, he crossed the yard until he reached the front door.
Not wanting to scare her more than she already was, he rang the doorbell to announce his arrival, still scanning the area while he waited. Out in the open like a sitting-fucking-duck. Asher owed him more than a few favors for this one.
Half a second later, he heard a voice ask through the door, “Asher?”
At least she wasn’t a complete idiot. “It’s Zane,” he responded.
The door creaked open, while she hid behind the door. Running a hand through his hair, he geared up and stepped inside, dreading the weepy mess he’d be walking into. A dim light on the ceiling cast an amber light across the entry, the rest of the house otherwise was cloaked in blinding darkness.
Instead, he was knocked on his ass by the fierce woman that greeted him. He swallowed his damn tongue as every logical thought in his brain was pulverized by… everything about her.
Pushing the door closed, he stood and stared like a gawking dumbass. That wild black hair was curled with inherent rebellion, a few strands framing her angular jaw. Piercing blue eyes saw and understood every deep imagining that had passed through his soul from the moment he’d stepped foot on this earth.
Fuck, that wasn’t even the half of it. A lacy tank left little to the imagination, and miniscule shorts revealed some perfect, curvy legs that should be wrapped around himright now.
