“And, Ric, this is Dee-Ann Smith. My old Marine buddy. We were in the Unit together.”

“Nice to meetcha,” Dee said, grasping Ric’s hand and shaking it.

Lock didn’t even realize he was waiting for Ric’s return greeting until it never came.

He watched his friend continue to shake Dee’s hand while he gawked at her, his mouth open a little.

“Ric?”

“Huh?” Ric mumbled, his eyes still on Dee, his hand still holding hers.

“You’re embarrassing me.”

Dee laughed and pulled her hand back. “Leave him alone, MacRyrie. Now you boys want to go out and get some breakfast or not?”

“No!” Ric snapped and Lock, startled, growled.

Dee’s smile faded. “No one’s twistin’ your arm, hoss.”

“What I mean is,” Ric said quickly, staring directly into her eyes because they were both the same six-two height—in fact they could probably share each other’s clothes—“I’ll make you breakfast.”

Dee’s smile returned, bigger this time. “Now, darlin’, you don’t have to make me breakfast. A breakfast that don’t come out of a packet is like a dream to me.”

“But a fresh, hot breakfast is what you deserve.”

Dee shrugged. “Well, if you really want—”

“I want. Oh, God do I want.”

She laughed. “Have it your way. Lock, you don’t mind if I use your bathroom, do ya? Figure I’ll get showered and changed before I see the cousins and since I’m gettin’ my very own Van Holtz-made breakfast.”

“Sure. Down the hall and to the left.”

“Thanks, hoss.” She picked up the duffel bag she’d left by the door and ambled off to use Lock’s bathroom.

Once gone, Ric turned on him, gripping his shirt and yanking. But instead of yanking Lock toward him, he only managed to pull himself closer to Lock.

“Who. Is. She?”

“That’s Dee. Remember? I’ve told you about her.”

“No one told me she was a goddess.”

“A…” Ignoring the strange way Ric phrased that, Lock studied the hardwood hallway floor where Dee had stood, leaving scuff marks from those damn boots of hers. “Dee? A goddess? Really?”

It wasn’t that Lock didn’t find Dee attractive but…well…hmm.

“Yes. Really.” He pushed Lock away—or tried—and began to pace. “You’ll need to run down to the store for a few ingredients.”

“What for? I’m sure I’ve got everything you—”

“Don’t argue with me!” Ric dug cash out of his front pocket and shoved it into Lock’s hand. He stared at theamount for a moment, which had to be several hundred dollars, and then grabbed his wallet from his back pocket, pulling out a credit card and placing that on top. “I’ll give you a list. And everything must be of the freshest quality. I insist on that.”

The freshest quality for Dee-Ann Smith? Who’d been living the last ten years on whatever rations the Marines gave her and whatever she could take down on her own?

Lock watched as his best friend jotted a list in the small notepad Ric always kept in his back pocket.

The bear debated. Tell his friend now he didn’t stand a chance with Dee-Ann or let Ric learn it for himself? Lock flinched, remembering the ways Dee-Ann had of letting a guy down when she was done with him. Nope. Bad idea. Very bad idea.

“Hey, Ric…look, uh…”

Dee-Ann came back in the hallway and both men stopped and stared at her.

“Just came back to get some water out of the fridge.” When neither man said anything to her, she asked,

“Somethin’ wrong?”

Ric stepped forward. “How many children do you want?”

Lock grabbed Ric by his hair and yanked him back, slamming him into the front door. “Ow!”

Dee-Ann smirked. “What’s going on, MacRyrie?”

“Nothing.”

Arms crossed over her chest, her foot tapping, Gwen asked Blayne, “And you said we’d do this…why?”

She shrugged. “Because it’s a nice thing to do.”

“And because you have no concept of shame?”

“Come on, Gwenie. It’s not a big deal. They like you.”

“I’m not sure what that’s supposed to mean to me.”

“It means they don’t trust just anybody with this task.”

Gwen stared down at the panting, slobbering animals at her feet.

“I don’t buy it, Blayne. Not even from you. There has to be a reason we’re doing this. And not ’cause today’s job was postponed.”

Hands on her hips, sweet Blayne left the room and direct, father’sa-Navy-man Blayne stepped in. “What?

You think we got such a great rate on this place due to my big grin and your implacable charm? We had to make concessions.”

“So we’re walking their dogs? We’re a plumbing-and-dog-walking service now?”

“We walk ’em when we can.”

“Couldn’t you have offered them sex, blow jobs…something?”

“That’s less humiliating than dog walking?”

“In my world.”

“Gwen!”

“All right, all right. But if we’re going to do this, we might as well get something out of it…”