Getting Hotter (35 page)

“But I don’t wanna shoot chickens.”

He stifled a groan. “Then you can watch us for a bit.”

“But I don’t wanna—”

“Jase didn’t want to ride the Ferris wheel but I took you anyway, remember?” Seth said gruffly. “So now it’s your turn to let your brother do something
he
wants, and then we’ll all go to see the ponies together. Cool beans?”

After a beat, Sophie grudgingly said, “Cool beans.”

He lifted her up on the counter right next to the shooting station and handed her the bag of cotton candy. “You can witness firsthand what awesome aim I have,” he told her.

Seth gave the kid manning the booth a five-dollar bill and reached for a rifle. For the next ten minutes, he and Dylan showed Jason how it was done. The air was alive with metallic
ping
noises as BBs spat out of the weapons and collided with the targets. Jason was cheering loudly, having declared himself on Team Seth, while Sophie took pity on Dylan and rooted for him.

The two SEALs didn’t miss a single shot, so the contest eventually became about which spot on the chicken they could hit.

“Now hit the beak!” Jason ordered.

Seth pulled the trigger with ease.
Ping.
Perfect beak shot.

Dylan nailed it too.

“The feet!”

Ping. Ping.

After every shot, he’d glance at Sophie from the corner of his eye to make sure she wasn’t up to any funny business. Every quick look revealed a flash of pink—her T-shirt and the cotton candy she was stuffing in her mouth.

“Sef, show me how to aim better,” Jason demanded.

He squatted down. “First thing, you have to hold the rifle properly. We take this hand—” he reached for Jason’s right hand, “—and put it here, and your other hand here on the undergrip of the weapon. And we want the butt—”

Jason giggled.

“The butt of the rifle,” Seth said, rolling his eyes. “We want to rest it here, on your shoulder, and not in your armpit like you were doing before. Now…”

He gave Jason a few more tips about how to better aim, then stood up and watched as the little boy took a shot.
Ping
. Jason hit a chicken dead center.

“Sweet!” Dylan raved.

“Very nice,” Seth agreed. “Did you see that, Soph? Your brother just—”

Sophie was gone.

Seth had to blink a couple of times to be sure. But no. She wasn’t there. Only the bag of cotton candy remained.

His heart stopped, then started pounding.

“Sophie!” Panic clawed up his throat. “Dylan, Sophie’s gone.”

The other man instantly went on the alert. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“No, I’m not fucking kidding you,” he spat out.

As his pulse shrieked like a whistle in his head, he scooped Jason into his arms, ignoring the kid’s startled yelp.

Holding the boy tight, Seth scanned the crowd for Sophie. Miranda had dressed both kids in the brightest colors known to man—a neon pink tee for Sophie, a neon green one for Jason. She insisted that as dorky as they were, the T-shirts would ensure the kids stood out like billboards in a crowd.

“Look for a pink shirt,” Seth ordered, finding it difficult to hear himself speak over the pounding of his heart.

He searched the mob of people cluttering the carnival grounds. Blue shirts, white shirts, black, red, pink—nope, different kid. He continued scanning and dismissing, his panic intensifying each time he struck out.

Holy Mother of God. He’d lost Miranda’s daughter.

Sophie was
gone
.

Everything got very, very quiet. The chatter of the families around them. The bells and whistles and clangs and dings in the game area. The happy shrieks and whoops echoing from the rides area. It all faded into a dull, muffled hiss.

And every single person in the crowd turned into Jarvis Henderson.

“Seth. Yo, dude, it’s fine, we’ll find her.”

Dylan’s voice found a way into Seth’s nightmare. He blinked, saw the visible concern on the blond SEAL’s face.

“Sophie’s gone,” he mumbled.

“It’s okay. We’ll find her.” Dylan’s brother’s fiancée stepped into his line of vision, her voice gentle, her hand even gentler as she touched his arm.

Jason was clinging tight to his shoulders, his face streaked with tears as he looked at Seth. “Where’s Sophie?”

“I don’t know, buddy.” His voice cracked. The panic spiked. “But we’re going to look for her. Okay?”

He glanced at the other two adults. “We split up. Dylan, check rides. Claire, keep looking here. Jase and I will head to the food area and the pett—” He stopped abruptly.

The petting zoo.

Could she have wandered off in search of the ponies she’d so desperately wanted to see?

“I might know where she is,” he blurted out. “Keep your phones on. Call if you find her.”

Seth took off with Jason in his arms. Dodging people left and right, he muscled his way through the crowd, wishing everyone would just drop dead. Each frantic beat of his heart bruised his ribs, ravaged his chest.

He’d lost Sophie.

He’d turned away from her for thirty seconds and now she was gone.

Should’ve been you, man.

The guilt he’d harbored all these years came flooding to the surface. Goddammit.
He
should’ve been the one playing in the fucking yard when that sick fuck Jarvis Henderson drove up in his pickup. Adam should’ve been inside, watching TV. It should’ve been Seth’s beaten and mutilated body those hikers found in the fucking desert.

He kept his eyes open for the color pink, but Sophie was nowhere to be found as he raced through the carnival. In the distance he saw the big wooden sign advertising the petting zoo.

Please let her be here. Please let her be here.

He wasn’t a religious man, but he was praying to God as he neared the enclosure that housed the ponies. Praying that he didn’t have to call Miranda and tell her that her daughter was gone.

“There she is!” Jason’s delighted voice broke through his terrifying thoughts.

Seth nearly keeled over when he spotted that neon-pink T-shirt by the wooden fence closing off the petting zoo. Sophie was standing on her tiptoes, her brown ponytail swishing back and forth as she tried to get a better look at the two black-maned horses.

A wave of relief slammed into him. “Sophie!”

She turned around and happily waved him over. “Sef! Come see the pony!”

Lingering adrenaline coursed through his blood, making his hands shake and his vision waver. He managed to pull out his cell phone to call Dylan, telling him and Claire to meet them here.

Sophie must have noticed the wild look in his eyes, because the joy in her eyes faded into guilt. “Uh-oh,” she said.

He sucked in an unsteady breath. “Uh-oh is right.”

“Your friend looked…wrecked.” Claire dropped her purse on the floor in the front hall and bent down to unlace her black Adidas.

“Sophie taking off like that really shook him up. Shook me up too,” Dylan confessed.

“Yeah, me too.” For the first time all evening, that antagonistic glint left her golden brown eyes, and suddenly she looked very young and very pretty. “I keep thinking about what would’ve happened if we hadn’t found her…” Claire shuddered. “Oh God. Imagine losing a child.”

Silence settled between them, not quite comfortable, but not quite hostile either.

Finally she cleared her throat. “Anyway, I’m going to bed.”

“At nine o’clock? Gee,
dear
, did all the excitement get to you?”

Her lips tightened. “And he’s back.”

Dylan had to grin. “You know you missed me.”

“Missed the smartass remarks and not-so-veiled barbs about my character? Sorry, can’t say that I have.” She headed for the doorway. “Good night, Dylan.”

“’Night, honey.”

He thoroughly enjoyed the way her back stiffened. And he couldn’t help but check out her ass as she stalked off. She hadn’t worn her snooty little suit to the carnival—rather, she’d put on a pair of black capris, a gray v-neck tee, and those cute sneakers. He had to admit, she’d impressed him earlier. They may have sniped at each other the entire time, but when that little girl had gone missing, Claire had snapped to action, calming Seth down and going to look for Sophie without hesitation.

He shut off the hall light and headed for the living room, wondering when Chris would be back. He’d literally spent a total of ten minutes with his older brother—dude had gotten off the plane, deposited Claire at the house, and raced off to a country club for golf and cigars. Dylan couldn’t remember his brother ever being so…pretentious? He wasn’t sure if that was the right word, but he had noticed that his normally down-to-earth albeit conservative older brother seemed a bit more…
uppity
these days.

A knock on the door stopped him before he could enter the living room. Ah, his brother was back. He wondered why Chris hadn’t used the key he’d given him, or rung the bell rather than knock, but the answer to that became clear when Dylan opened the door and found someone else on the other side of it.

Aidan’s dimpled grin hit him like a shot of whiskey. Heat traveled through him, settling in his groin and hardening his cock.

“What are you doing here?” he asked in surprise. “Your email said you wouldn’t be back for two more days.”

“They didn’t need me anymore so they sent me home. I came straight here from the airport. I texted,” Aidan added, “but you didn’t respond.”

“My phone died.” He studied the other man’s chiseled face. “You came here instead of going home first? Now why would you do that?”

“Why the hell do you think?”

A current of electricity moved between them. Aidan ran a hand through his dark hair and leaned a broad shoulder on the doorframe. “You gonna let me in or what?”

“No.”

Surprise registered on Aidan’s face. “You serious?”

He let out a rueful sigh. “My brother and his fiancée are here for the night. Sure, I can invite you in and we can watch TV for a while and have a beer, but we haven’t seen each other in two months, and frankly, if I’m in the same room as you right now, I don’t know if I’ll be able to control myself, so…”

Aidan chuckled. “So I should go home and we’ll see each other tomorrow.”

“Glad you understand.”

“Oh, I understand. I definitely understand.”

Lust tightened Dylan’s muscles as he stood there in the face of Aidan’s hungry appraisal. The man was looking at him like he wanted to eat him up. Bastard even licked his lips.

Dylan was pretty hungry himself. Despite having just gotten off a plane, Aidan looked better than ever. The top two buttons of his white long-sleeve were unbuttoned, revealing his corded neck and a teasing glimpse of the dark hair on his chest. And his snug gray trousers did nothing to hide the unmistakable bulge at his crotch.

“Where’re your brother and his fiancée now?” Aidan’s voice was low, raspy.

“Chris is out. Claire went to bed.”

He was about to ask why, but he got his answer a second later when Aidan pushed his way into the front hall, got him against the wall, and kissed the crap out of him.

It was another one of those greedy, unforgiving kisses. Aidan’s tongue filled his mouth, exploring in seductive thrusts that left him breathless.

“You sleep with anyone else this summer?” The question came out of left field, but Dylan didn’t see any anger in the man’s eyes, only interest.

“Yes.”

“Who?”

“This chick I hook up with every now and then.” He stared at Aidan’s bottomless brown eyes. “You?”

“Yes. A woman I know in D.C.”

He found it interesting that they’d both slept with women, yet here they were, pressed up against the wall, lower bodies rubbing up against each other like contented cats.

Aidan’s tone held a note of contemplation. “I can’t decide if I’m jealous.” Those warm male lips found Dylan’s again in a soft, fleeting kiss that was sexier and more potent than any tongue-tangling make-out.

“Neither of us promised to live like monks,” he murmured.

Aidan nodded his agreement. “No, we didn’t.”

They kissed again, tongues dancing. Aidan’s hands stayed above the waist, one flat on Dylan’s chest, the other at the nape of his neck.

“So this regular hook-up,” Aidan mused. “Was she good?”

“Mmm-hmmm.” He nipped at Aidan’s bottom lip, his cock aching so bad he was surprised he could be this playful. Truth was, he wanted to rip this man’s clothes off, rip his own clothes off, and stay in bed for three days straight.

Clearly Aidan wanted the same damn thing, because Dylan suddenly found himself being spun around. He braced his palms on the wall, swallowing a moan when he felt the hard length of Aidan’s erection pressing against his ass.

Aidan’s breath tickled his neck as he leaned in close. “That hook-up of yours…I
wonder if her pussy was as tight as your ass will be.”