Page 17 of S.O.S. Billboard

The man’s dark eyes met hers through the glass, as if he knew she was looking at him, and she slowly pulled back.

Yup.He was verifiably gorgeous.

She leaned in again, and watched as he ran a hand back through his almost-no-longer-military-cut. Was he nervous about seeing her, too? It was a possibility, but she forcibly reminded herself that nothing could come of it.

Stepping back and taking a deep breath, O’Shea unfastened the chain-lock and opened the door.

She swallowed.

“Uh, hi Billboard,” she somehow managed, even though her brain was short-circuiting over his commanding presence, his manly, spicy essence that assaulted her nose, almost immediately, and his devastatingly beautiful, crooked smile. They all hit her at once. Every single attribute. Squarely in her chest. Somehow, she was able to step back and let him enter.

“Hi, O’Shea,” he returned gruffly, slowly walking in. “I hope you got my message and were expecting me.”

“Yeah,” O’Shea choked out. “I picked it up a few minutes ago, just after I finished my shower.”

A flush moved up his strong neck.

Maybe he liked thinking of her naked…

Inappropriate. Shut it down, O’Shea.

He gave a tip of his head. “Uh, sorry for the change of plan, but Sarge…” He trailed off, as if he, too, wasn’t exactly sure what Sarge’s problem had been.

“No worries,” O’Shea returned as breezily as possible. “One ride is as good as another.”

Huh.Had he winced?

“Well,” Billboard cleared his throat. “I guess we can be going, then. Are you ready?” He took her in from head to toe, and… “Uh, shoes?” He nodded toward her bare feet.

She turned abruptly, glad for an excuse to drag her gaze away from him, because she might have been staring at him a little too hard. “Let me get them,” she answered.

Walking once again to her suitcase, she lifted out a pair of flats and slipped into them. She didn’t feel the need, at five-foot-eight, to resort to heels to stay on par with the tall SOS team. But once she donned her footwear of choice and joined Billboard at the door, she entertained second thoughts. Next to him, O’Shea felt downright petite.

She remembered that from before; how protected he’d made her feel, even though she didn’t need protecting. Not that she hated being looked after. On the contrary. O’Shea had been taking care of herself for such a long time that being able to let her guard down when Billboard and his team were around had given her a welcome respite from her constant state of hyper-vigilance.

“I’m ready,” she told him, trying to remember to stay cool.

They both turned toward the door at the same time, and bumped arms. A jolt of electricity zipped up her skin, and when he laid a hand on the small of her back to steady her, she jumped away.

“I… It…” O’Shea took a long, deep breath.

Screw making excuses for her skittishness. It was important to be honest, here.

She turned to face Billboard. “Listen. I know I didn’t make any secret of the fact that when you were in Louisianna last year, I…liked you. But I heard you’re dating someone. So please do me a favor and don’t touch me.”

Billboard opened his mouth.

“I know, I know,” she cut him off. “It wasn’t like you were coming on to me just now. It was a little bump followed by a helping hand. I get that. But it felt really good, and it’s going to take me a while to switch gears and put you in the friend zone, since I’ve spent months fantasizing about you.”

Well, shit.She’d done it now. Sometimes her mouth ran ahead of her brain. Would he be disgusted? Would he pity her?

She peeked up at him, and almost fist pumped.

There.A shit-eating grin was trying to break out over his face.

“You…fantasized about me?” he asked.

O’Shea gave him a chin dip of acknowledgement, but needled him, too. “Sure.That’syour take-away from me asking you to tone down the testosterone; that you starred in my dreams? Seriously, Billboard?” She gave him a saucy flip of her hair and spun around to go, but he grabbed her arm. Gently, but it kept her from stomping out the door.

---