Silken Threats by Addison Fox

Author:Addison Fox [Fox, Addison]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 9781460375846
Google: lwOpBAAAQBAJ
Amazon: B00O94W2YK
Barnesnoble: B00O94W2YK
Goodreads: 22891995
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2015-01-29T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 11

Still groggy from sleep, Tucker followed the smell of coffee through her small house toward the kitchen. He’d fallen asleep on Cassidy’s living-room couch, at some point stretching out when she’d murmured she had to finish something in her office.

Next thing he knew he was blinking away the early-morning sun that blazed through her front bay windows, announcing the new day.

He’d slept hard, no doubt about it, but he usually maintained a base level of awareness, even when tired. He’d learned in the Corps to sleep light, and his last year with Bailey had helped him continue the practice. Although Bailey had trained well, he wasn’t so far past puppyhood that Tucker could fully relax his guard. A late-night chew session with a new pair of running shoes the previous month had only reinforced the point.

But he’d hit it hard last night.

He padded into Cassidy’s kitchen and came to a stop at the sight that greeted him.

Bailey lay at Cassidy’s feet, his bone between his paws, while she ate a slice of toast with peanut butter and scratched at an image in a sketch pad with a pencil. Both seemed oblivious to him so he took a moment to look his fill.

The sun was softer in here, less direct, and it highlighted the magnificent array of reds in her hair. From deep auburn to a soft ginger and a multitude of shades in between, he wanted to reach out and fist his hands in all those lush strands.

His gaze had already moved on toward her lips when Bailey let out a short yip, giving him away.

“Good morning.” She laid her pencil down, a soft smile playing about her lips. “Coffee’s ready, and I can make you toast, eggs, cereal or all of the above.”

“You don’t need to cook. I’ll get some toast.”

“Oh, and I have bananas, too.”

“Breakfast of champions.”

“I bet you’ve had less.”

He thought about her statement—heard the question lying underneath—and turned to face her after depressing the tab on the toaster. “You seem curious about my time in the Corps.”

“Does that bother you?”

“No.” He paused, wanting to get it right. “It doesn’t bother me at all. Consider my comment observation more than censure.”

“I know we should be focused on the issue at hand—” She broke off, and once again he sensed there was something bigger lying underneath her words.

The toaster popped, and he busied himself with the butter and jelly she’d already set out, giving her a moment to think through what she wanted to say.

In his experience, once someone got up the courage to broach a subject, they wanted to get it out. Some well-placed silence often gave that needed push to get them over the hump.

Toast in one hand and a fresh mug of coffee in the other, he took a seat opposite her.

He didn’t have to wait long.

“You seem to have a healthy attitude about whatever you saw while in the service. But it’s a big part of your life and you don’t say much.

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