Getting Hotter (Out of Uniform #8)

He discreetly watched as she got up, laughing at something Sophie had said. As she helped her daughter up to her feet, Miranda’s sable-brown hair, now dry and wavy, fell forward, revealing that bare shoulder he’d been admiring earlier.

A rush of heat coursed through his blood and his cock stirred beneath his sweatpants.

Fuck.

Of course she was worth it.

She was absolutely worth it.





Chapter Five


“Kids asleep?”

Seth’s low voice startled the hell out of her as she shut the guest room door and stepped into the corridor. Miranda’s pulse sped up when she spotted him at the end of the hall. Those magnetic gray eyes were focused on her with such intensity she felt rattled.

“Yeah.” She reluctantly walked toward him, wishing she’d decided to turn in herself. But it was barely eight forty-five and she wasn’t tired. If anything, she was wide awake and would probably stay that way for hours. The more it continued to rain, the higher her stress levels soared.

What would she find when she went home tomorrow? How much of their belongings could she actually salvage? How long would the renovations take? The floors would definitely have to be replaced, but what else?

“Okay, clearly you need this more than I do.”

She snapped out of her thoughts to see Seth holding out a beer bottle.

“Here,” he said gruffly. “This might make you feel better. I can see your brain working overtime. Thinking about the apartment, huh?”

She nodded. After a second, she accepted the bottle and brought it to her lips. As the cold liquid slid down her throat, she suddenly realized that Seth’s mouth had been on the lip of this bottle just seconds ago. Her heart beat a little bit faster. And faster still when the memory of their kiss flew into her head.

Oh God.

The kiss.

She’d tried blocking it from her mind all evening. She’d curled up with the twins on the comfy leather couch in Seth and Dylan’s living room. Laughed at the crazy antics of Shrek and the gang. Munched on the popcorn Dylan had brought out.

She’d hoped that if she pretended the kiss hadn’t happened, she might be able to erase it from her memory, but no such luck. She’d been excruciatingly aware of Seth’s presence all night, even though he’d barely said a word. He’d isolated himself on the sole recliner in the living room and spoke only when spoken to, but she’d felt his gaze burning into the side of her face for the entirety of both movies they’d ended up watching.

Now, that silvery gaze was glued to her again, knowing, mocking, a tad contemplative.

“You hungry?” he asked after the silence between them had dragged on.

She shook her head. “I’m still full from all that spaghetti we had for dinner. Did I even thank Dylan for cooking? I can’t remember if—”

“You thanked him,” Seth cut in. “Twice.”

“Right. Okay. Well.”

She fidgeted with the label of the beer bottle. The condensation had softened the paper, and she found herself slicing her fingernail underneath it and peeling away the corners. For some reason, she was feeling incredibly unsettled in Seth’s presence.

“Where’s Dylan?” she blurted out.

“In the shower.”

“Oh.”

“Should we sit in the living room?” Seth suggested.

“Um. Sure.”

Shit, she had to pull herself together. So what if she could still taste him on her lips? So what if his woodsy, masculine scent drugged her senses every time she inhaled?

So what if his powerful arms looked incredible in that wifebeater?

She trailed after him, clutching the beer bottle so tightly it was a miracle the glass didn’t shatter. Why was she so nervous all of a sudden? She’d been around Seth a hundred times over the past few months and she’d never had a problem before. She’d been perfectly capable of talking to him, interacting with him, sparring with him, shooting down his seductive propositions and resisting the attraction between them.

What had changed? Why did she suddenly feel tongue-tied around him?

The kiss, you idiot. It was the kiss.

“Have a seat. I’ll just grab another beer,” Seth said when they reached the living room.