Getting Hotter (13 page)

“Okay.”

He felt like a total shit as he darted out of the alcove. Aidan was waiting behind the curtain, his dark eyes lined with worry and a hint of aggravation.

“What the hell happened?” Dylan demanded.

“A bunch of morons decided to trash-talk the bartender your boy’s panting over.”

“Fucking great.”

He followed Aidan toward the back of the club, feeling slightly dizzy as the strobe lights assaulted his vision and the deafening music attempted to destroy his eardrums. For a second, he swayed on his feet, growing disoriented and a tad nauseous. Shit, he was drunker than he’d thought. And it was incredibly difficult to match Aidan’s breakneck pace when he still had an erection of monstrous proportions.

Fortunately, all signs of arousal drained from his dick the second he and Aidan burst onto the smoking patio.

Unfortunately, the scene they came upon was utter chaos.

Dylan had barely registered it when he became the recipient of an elbow to the groin that made him see stars.

“Son of a bitch,” he croaked, doubling over.

A blur of fists and elbows and legs flashed in front of his eyes, heavy male grunts echoing in the night air. He quickly recovered from the accidental nut shot and dove in Seth’s direction, though it was clear his roommate didn’t need much assistance. Even surrounded by three guys and a bouncer determined to stop the scuffle, Seth was completely holding his own, unleashing left hooks and uppercuts that landed with resounding
thwacks
on their intended targets.

Blood poured out of Seth’s nostrils, but he seemed unfazed. The three men he’d decided to take on were bleeding in various places too—mouths, noses, chins. One even had blood dripping from his temple.

“Enough,” Dylan snapped as he launched himself into the fold. He nearly caught a blow to the side of the head, but managed to block it at the last second.

“I’m calling the fucking cops!” the bouncer was shouting. The big man succeeded in getting one of the beefheads in a headlock and began dragging his prey away like a lion collecting his carcass.

From the corner of his eye, Dylan saw Aidan grab hold of the other muscleman, leaving Seth to deal with the remaining one. Seth got in a few more punches that sent his victim’s head snapping back before two more bouncers flew onto the patio and put an end to the commotion.

Next thing Dylan knew, he was being thrown over the low railing separating the patio from the alley behind it. A
thud
, then another, as Seth and Aidan landed on the pavement beside him.

“Get the fuck up!” One of the bouncers, an enormous African-American with a skull tattoo on his neck, loomed over them, his massive arms crossed over his massive chest.

Dylan staggered to his feet. The adrenaline coursing through his blood, combined with all the alcohol he’d consumed, made him light-headed and more than a little queasy. His stomach churned, prompting him to take a deep breath before he lost his dinner all over the bouncer’s feet.

His ears proceeded to ring during the entire altercation that followed, but he understood the gist of what went down. He, Seth and Aidan were being thrown out. So were the muscleheads Seth had decided to pound on. The club manager came out at one point, spewing threats about pressing charges and whatnot, but eventually she lost steam and told them to “get the fuck out of her sight”.

The bouncers escorted the six men to the curb. Everyone was oddly silent and subdued, and a few minutes later, the three beefheads stumbled into a cab, aiming three death looks in Seth’s direction before they disappeared.

Dylan noted that not a single one of those dudes had come after Seth during the wait for the taxi, nor had they offered any parting words along the lines of “this isn’t over”. And he doubted that had anything to do with the angry bouncers standing four feet away. No, judging by the sad, bloodied state those losers had left in, Seth had clearly made an impact.

Dylan’s gaze drifted to the two bouncers at the door, who returned his stare with matching menacing scowls. Yeah, there was no way he was getting back in that club tonight. So much for dancing the night away with Rachel.

Hell. He wasn’t even in the mood for sex anymore. He’d jarred his shoulder while trying to break up that fight, and now it was throbbing again. Damn it. He’d consumed a shit-ton of beer and whiskey shots tonight, specifically to reach the point where the pain faded into that numb sort of nothingness, and now all his hard work was down the drain.

Tightening his lips, he glared at Seth, whose gray eyes displayed sheer boredom. Boredom, for fuck’s sake. The guy had just rearranged the faces of not one, not two, but
three
dudes, his nose was a bloody mess, and he was standing there like it was no biggie.

“You couldn’t let it go, huh?” Dylan cracked.

His roommate shrugged. “Not really.”

Aidan, who hadn’t said a word since they’d been tossed out of the club, looked from one SEAL to the other, then chuckled. “Didn’t I hear something about you guys getting locked up for brawling a while back?”

“You heard right,” Dylan mumbled. “And that last brawl wasn’t my fault either. Apparently I hang out with cavemen who can’t control their tempers.”

Rolling his eyes, Seth reached into his pocket for his wallet and dug out a twenty-dollar bill. “I’ll spring for a cab for you,” he said, handing Dylan the cash. “I’m gonna hang around here until Miranda gets off.”

Dylan barked out an incredulous laugh. “You have to report to the CO in like four hours.”

“Which is why there’s no point in even going to bed. I’ll wait for Miranda to get off, just in case those assholes decide to come back here and cause trouble for her.”

“Suit yourself. You’ll be the one dead-ass tired in the water tomorrow.” Dylan pulled out his cell phone and scrolled through the contacts, but his vision kept going in and out of focus. “Shit, I know I have a cab number in here, but everything’s starting to spin.”

“Forget the cab. I’ll take you home,” Aidan offered.

“You sure?”

“Yeah, it’s not a problem.”

Dylan’s foggy brain registered a thought. “Aw shit, I can’t go home. I don’t want the kids to see me drunk.”

Aidan’s brows shot up. “You’ve got kids at your place? Since when?”

“Miranda and her children are staying with us,” Seth explained. “Their apartment flooded.”

“Ah. I see.”

“And the rugrats are asleep by now,” Seth pointed out.

Dylan stubbornly shook his head. “Don’t care. What if they wake up in the middle of the night and find me puking in the bathroom? I refuse to corrupt children.”

He’d barely finished his sentence when the world started to rotate again. He wobbled on his feet, nausea climbing up his throat.

Aidan shot Seth a perplexed look. “How is he able to speak in full, articulate sentences when he’s this loaded?”

“No fucking idea, man.”

“How about this? Why don’t you crash at my place tonight?” Aidan suggested. “I live three blocks from here, and I can drop you home tomorrow before I head to the base.”

“That sounds good,” he said, blinking rapidly in the hopes that it would help his eyes focus. Then he gave Seth the finger and added, “I’m keeping that twenty, by the way. Reparation for getting in a fight and cock-blocking me. Asshole.”

Next to him, Aidan gave a soft chuckle. “Shit. You SEALs really are on constant testosterone overload, aren’t you? Fucking or fighting—it’s always one or the other, huh?”

Dylan released a breath. “Tell me about it.”

Miranda was dead on her feet by the time two a.m. rolled around. By midnight, the club had emptied to less than half capacity, so her manager Wendy had sent her to the beer cooler to do inventory, leaving Alex to tend bar alone. Miranda’s arms now ached from lifting all those beer cases, she was shivering from being in a freezer for the past two hours, and to top off an already shitty shift, she’d gotten yelled at by Wendy for no good reason. She’d found out later that Wendy’s foul mood was the result of a fistfight that had broken out on the patio, but that didn’t make her feel any better about being wrongfully screamed at.

All she wanted to do was go home and take a hot bath before collapsing in bed, but that wasn’t exactly an option. Her twins could sleep through a tornado, but she didn’t want to risk waking Seth or Dylan by rummaging around their bathroom and making noise.

“’Night, Miranda,” one of the bouncers called as she left the club through the front doors.

“’Night, Nico.”

She rounded the building and made her way to the tiny lot in the rear alley. There were only four parking spaces back there—one was Wendy’s, the other three were for employees but on a first-come, first-served basis. Miranda had lucked out and snagged a space tonight, which meant she didn’t have to walk to the next block where she normally parked.

“Boo.”

The raspy voice came out of nowhere and made her jump two feet in the air. Heart pounding, she spotted Seth sitting on the trunk of her sedan, smoking a cigarette.

“Jesus, Seth! You scared me to death.” Her heartbeat steadied, then accelerated once more when she noticed the dried blood caked on his nostrils. “Oh brother. Why am I not surprised?”

He tossed his cigarette butt on the pavement and snuffed it out with the toe of his black boot. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,
you’re
the one who started that fistfight my manager was bitching about.” She unlocked her car and marched over to the driver’s side. “Ever the troublemaker, aren’t you?”

His taunting laugh floated toward her. “Why are you so convinced
I
started the fight?”

She stared at him. “Didn’t you?”

After a beat, he broke out in a rueful grin. “Yeah, I did. But you should know that I was defending your honor.”

Now she was the one laughing. “Oh really?”

“Really.”

Miranda watched as he scraped a hand over his scruffy goatee. Well, if you could even call it that. She actually had no idea how to classify Seth’s facial hair. Kind of a beard, kind of a mustache, mostly a whole lot of scruff that made him appear lethal as hell.

“Remember that meathead who was hitting on you earlier?” he prompted.

She nodded.

“I overheard him saying some very unpleasant things about you. One thing led to another and…” Seth shrugged.

She couldn’t help but smile. “I can’t decide if that was sweet of you, or incredibly stupid. I’m leaning toward stupid. And whatever that guy said? I’m sure I‘ve been called worse.”

“Maybe, but that doesn’t make a fuck of a difference to me. If someone disrespects you, I’ll damn well step in and make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

His husky declaration brought a rush of warmth to her chest, which only ticked her off. Jeez. She didn’t need Seth Masterson fighting any battles on her behalf. She was perfectly capable of fighting her own battles.

“Anyway, I’ll see you at home,” he said. “I stuck around to make sure that guy didn’t come back to bother you.”

Her heart skipped a beat as he leaned in to open the car door for her. His spicy scent surrounded her, made her feel light-headed. Damn pheromones.

He waited while she got into the driver’s seat, told her to “drive safe”, and then shut the door for her.

Miranda let out a sigh of relief the second he was gone. His presence was so darn unsettling, and her stupid body responded to him, no matter how many times she ordered it not to. Even Trent hadn’t evoked such a powerful rush of awareness, and she had no idea how to suppress the constant waves of lust swelling inside her.

It took twenty minutes to get to Seth’s house in Coronado. His Jeep was idling by the curb behind the babysitter’s car, and he flashed his headlights when he saw her, gesturing for her to pull into the driveway. Right, he was better off parking behind her since he would be leaving first.

Come to think of it, hadn’t he said he needed to report to the base at five? It was nearly three, for Pete’s sake.

“Are you pulling an all-nighter or something?” she asked when they met up on the front stoop.

“Pretty much. There’s no point in going to sleep now.” He unlocked the front door and went in first, which she noticed he did every time they entered a room together. And his sharp-eyed gaze always swept back and forth, as if he was assessing his surroundings for potential danger.

The living room lights were on. Miranda found her regular sitter, Kim, lying on the couch reading a thick biology textbook. The pretty Japanese girl pushed her wire-rim glasses up the bridge of her nose when she spotted Miranda.

“Hey,” Kim said, quickly shutting her book and getting to her feet. “The kids are sleeping soundly. I just checked on them ten minutes ago.”

“Did they give you any trouble?” Miranda asked.

“Not at all. They were great, as usual.”

“I’m glad. Come on, let me walk you out.”

After saying good-bye to Kim and locking up, Miranda drifted into the kitchen, where Seth was preparing coffee. He didn’t offer her a cup, an understandable breach of etiquette seeing as how it was three in the morning and only one of them needed to stay awake.