Page 67 of Falling Fast

“He’s mydad. And I’m not only his baby, I’m his only daughter.” The man was a freaking legend around these parts. Hell, in the Marine Corps.

“You still want me to do it, then?”

“Yes. He’s old-fashioned like that.”

Jamie hummed and stroked a hand over her hair. “So, were you dreaming about me?”

“Maybe,” she said in a sly tone, rubbing against his chest. “And it might have been naughty, because I’m feeling rather…tingly right now.”

He growled deep in his chest and pulled her head away from his chest to plant a hard, possessive kiss on her lips. “Please say there’s a spot we can ride out to later that will give us a good hour of privacy.”

“Well, there might be.” She had several in mind already. “I’ll see what I can do. I believe I once offered to take you out…riding, last year,” she added in a sultry tone.

“Such a tease.” He released her and stood, held out an imperious hand. “Come on. I was instructed to come get you and bring you downstairs.”

She set her hand in his, allowed him to pull her from the cozy nest she would rather spend the rest of the day in with him, and headed downstairs. The familiar sights and smells of home surrounded her, filling her with warmth. The deep tones of two of her brothers’ voices drifted up from the kitchen.

Easton and Wyatt were both here. Only Brody—her middle brother—was missing, off on yet another mission with the FBI’s Hostage Rescue Team. All the men in her family were former military and ridiculously alpha, but even though she’d chafed against their protective restrictions when she was younger, she wouldn’t change any of them for the world.

“Hey, there’s Sleeping Beauty,” Easton remarked when she came into view. He was standing at the kitchen sink with a mug in hand, eyes glinting with humor.

“You got any of that left?”

“Nope, sorry, already poured the last cup,” her eldest brother, Wyatt said, pouring the last dregs from the pot into her favorite mug. He had shorts on today, telling her he was way more comfortable letting people see his prosthetic leg than he had been even a few months ago. He wore his favorite T-shirt, a gift from Easton that read:I had a blast in Afghanistan.

Sometimes her brothers’ sense of humor left something to be desired.

Charlie glared at Wyatt in outrage. “That’s my mug.”

“Is it?” He stared at her, raised the rim to his lips as though he intended to drink from it, and at the last moment grinned and handed it over. “I can be an asshole sometimes, I know, but I’m not that mean.”

“Yeah, Austen’s been good for you,” she said with a smile, gratefully accepting the mug.

“I love how she melts when someone gives her coffee. Easton gave me that tip a few weeks back. It’s come in handy a few times since,” Jamie said.

“Eww, TMI,” Wyatt muttered, and Easton laughed.

“We still having pizza for dinner?” Charlie asked.

“Nope. Austen got wind that you and Jamie were coming down for a visit, so she and Piper are at our place right now using every pot and pan in the kitchen to cook up a feast.”

Charlie brightened. Austen and Piper in the kitchen together was a combination straight out of heaven. “Is Austen making her mama’s mac ‘n cheese?”

“I assume so, and Piper had brownies and lemon bars in the oven when I left.”

“Oh, now I can’t wait.” She turned to Jamie, looped an arm around his waist and leaned into him. “I love family dinners, but even more now that you’re here.”

Before Jamie could utter a response her brothers let out a chorus of fake awwws and kissy noises. Charlie shot them a dirty look, fighting back a smile.

Then the kitchen door opened. A blur of white and chestnut-brown fur exploded into the room, heading straight for her.

“Grits! How’s my cute little buddy doing, huh?” she asked, bending down just as the little Cavalier King Charles Spaniel jumped up to place his front paws on her thigh and cover her face with puppy kisses, his feathery white tail swishing back and forth in a blur.

“He’s doing great,” Wyatt said, sounding like a proud father. “Spoiled as hell and loving every minute of it. He helps me out with the shelter dogs we select for our therapy dog program. You wouldn’t believe how fast some of those dogs come out of their shells when he’s around.”

“Oh yes, I would.” And the artificial back leg hadn’t slowed the little guy down one bit. “He’s so freaking adorable. Aren’t you, Gritsy?” she gushed, ruffling both his long, floppy ears.

Grits cocked his head to the side and gazed up at her with total adoration, his tongue lolling out the side of his mouth in a doggy smile.

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