Page 6 of Over the Edge

He lifted his hand away, and lying on the bar was a two-inch brass coin, enameled in dark blue with the distinctive gold eagle, trident, and flintlock Navy SEAL emblem glinting on its face.

The marines stared, open-mouthed, back and forth between him and his Budweiser coin. Finally, the moron muttered, “Shit. Never mind, man. Y’all have a good night.”

Rolling his eyes, Trevor pocketed his coin and the marines made a respectful hole for him.

He walked outside as calmly as he could. But he jerked to a halt just past the door, breathing deeply as he fought down a hodgepodge of emotions. Irritation at the marine. A sense of having barely escaped disaster back in the booth. Lust for—

Damn. Lust for Anna.

His swim buddy, for fuck’s sake. The last woman on Earth he should have a hard-on for. He knew better than to drink around her. Liquor lowered inhibitions, and he needed every inhibition he could muster to keep things professional between the two of them.

Breathe.Be in the moment.Do the right thing.

He repeated the training mantras over and over until finally, slowly, they began to take effect.

The night air was muggy, clammy on his skin, and tasted of saltwater and seaweed. He could just make out the faint roar of the ocean a few blocks to his east.

Why did he feel like he’d just dodged a major bullet?

Because you just did, Einstein.

God save the Crown, but that had been a close call. He’dalmostturned toward Anna, almost met her halfway when she’d leaned into him. As it was, he could still feel her lips moving lightly against his ear as smooth as sex on satin sheets.

Must bail before I do something colossally stupid.

He fumbled in his pants pocket for the keys to his Charger. He was in no shape to drive, but it wasn’t like he dared stick around here. He couldn’t take any more of being smashed up against Anna, inhaling that spicy sweet scent that was as much a part of her as her natural beauty—

“What in thehellis wrong with you?” a husky—familiar—female voice demanded from behind him.

Bloody hell.He turned reluctantly to face Anna. He topped six feet by a bit, which meant he had a solid six inches and easily sixty pounds on her. He used all of them now to glare down at her.

Not that she gave a darn about his attempt at intimidation, of course. Hands planted indignantly on her hips, she glared up at him as if she was seriously considering taking him down, right here, right now. She looked mad enough to pull it off, too.

“Nothing’s wrong with me,” he declared.

“Then why do you have car keys in your hand, Mister? You can’t seriously think it’s a good idea to get behind the wheel of any vehicle after the amount of scotch you’ve consumed.”

“You’ve drunk nearly as much as I have,” he retorted.

“And you don’t see me trying to drive, do you? Hand over those keys.”

But they were his escape. From her.

“C’mon. Cough ‘em up. Don’t make me take them from you.”

He snorted. “You think you could get these away from me?” He held the keys at arm’s length over his head, well out of her reach.

Lightning fast, she jabbed her fingers into his ribs, just below his armpit…

…andtickledhim.

Reflexively, he jerked his arm down, pinning her hand to his side as he protected his ribs from further abuse. Using her other hand, she plucked the keys out of his fingers and jammed them in the front pocket of her skinny jeans.

“No fair!” he complained.

Her big, dark eyes narrowed to dangerous, feline slits. She was magnificent when she got riled up.

She growled, “Who ever said SEALs play fair?”

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