Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 83039 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83039 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
“They do. I’m out now.” I glanced around the packed bar. It wasn’t Pride weekend yet, but early June in Portland was tourist central with the Rose Festival, fleet week, and more. The crowd was decidedly younger than most of us, a bunch of twenty-and-thirty-somethings who’d probably never heard of Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell. I was out now, on multiple levels, and it wasn’t something I took for granted.
“Cheers to that!” Jorge raised an invisible glass to me. Like me, he’d served through various rules and regulations before retiring, and he sure had enthusiastically embraced same-sex marriage rights. For his sake, I hoped the third time was the charm. Across from us, a younger group of friends was clustered near one of the go-go dancers. The dancer’s wrestling singlet was hot, but my eyes kept drifting to one of the guys in the group who had a muscled back and shoulders and possibly the most perfect ass I’d ever seen.
“You’re still fit as fuck.” Jorge’s cousin had corn chip-scented breath and sweaty hands with a tendency to roam. Leering, he gave me another admiring glance. “Who wants drinks?”
“You go ahead. Line’s too long for me.” I gestured at the crowd around the bar area. I didn’t need a cocktail badly enough to spend a half-hour waiting to give my order. And I was counting on the others being thirstier than me to get a little break. I loved Jorge, who had been a young chief on my first assignment, and it was nice to see a few friends from other duty stations, but I was due a break from the hours of socializing. “Never know. I might dance.”
“Oh fine. Make me feel old.” Jorge rolled his eyes at me as he followed his cousin and the others to join the line at the bar.
Speaking of feeling old, the hot guy turned, and he was younger than I’d thought. Short beard, long hair pulled up in a ponytail bun thing, the sort of signature northwest look that could be anywhere from twenty to thirty-five.
This guy was probably around twenty-five or twenty-eight, but there was something irresistible about him. And it wasn’t only the young and fresh factor. Military towns always seemed to skew super young, and while I was careful to never screw an enlisted subordinate, I could admit to a hookup or two where I’d felt rather ancient.
I should have looked away. But I didn’t. Couldn’t. And the more I looked, the more I admired. His energy, the way he kept making his friends laugh, how he bounced on his feet, never staying still, showing off that ass with every wiggle. I especially liked the way his eyes sparkled when he smiled. I was a sucker for a great smile.
And then he headed my way, smile shifting to a predatory gleam.
“Hey there.” He nodded at me. “We’re twins.”
“Pardon?” I squinted at him, trying to follow. Even our hair was different shades of brown, mine sandy and his dark chestnut. He was tanned and had maybe an inch on my six-foot frame. I’d sure as heck remember being related to this buff Greek god.
“I mean, you’re wearing my shirt.” He pointed at my chest. I narrowed my gaze as my eyes finally left his compelling face. Yup. Same silly I Do Crew shirt. “See? Twins.”
“Oh.” I laughed, but there was absolutely nothing familial about the surge of heat in my stomach, the way warmth licked at my ribs and spine before heading south. It had been a long damn time since someone revved my engine this hard. Maybe it was my lucky night after all.
Chapter Two
Knox
As far as pickup lines went, declaring myself and the hottest dude I’d seen in quite some time twins wasn’t my best work. But I’d spotted this guy and his friends when they’d walked in. And he didn’t belong in that shirt. Or with that crew. He was younger and fitter than the rest of his friends. Older than me, but I dug the air of maturity and self-assuredness around him. He looked military and was probably in town for fleet week. His military vibe was enhanced by his lean muscles, great posture, and alert eyes. And he seemed uncomfortable in that T-shirt, like he’d rather be in uniform. Or maybe a dress shirt. Yeah, I could see him in something with buttons…
Sure, he was older and probably out of my league, but why not shoot my shot? Our matching shirts were as good an in as anything.
“Oh, so we are.” The guy looked down, clearly not overly impressed at my powers of observation. “You’re not here with Jorge though?”
“Nope. Popular shirts, apparently. Tis the season for weddings. Our I Do Crew is here for Tony and Ross. They’re making out on the dance floor.” I gestured vaguely toward the dance area behind the bar. My friend group had an unspoken agreement whenever we went out that we were free to socialize with others. It wasn’t like I was abandoning the party to chat up this dude, and indeed, a quick glance over at my friends yielded a host of thumbs-ups and way-too-obvious cheerleading.