One-Two Punch (12 page)

Harry snorted a laugh. “Barbie? I bet that—” He broke off suddenly when his gaze locked on the man maneuvering his large duffel around the equipment. “Well, shit-balls,” he breathed. His arm dropped off Beth’s shoulders as Harry strode toward the stranger.

“Pokey!” Harry called out, a grin lighting up his face. The other man’s head jerked around and the duffel hit the floor as he met Harry halfway for a back-pounding hug.

“Pokey?” Beth muttered in disbelief. “What kind of name is ‘Pokey’?”

She followed Harry, trying to be unobtrusive but still curious about the gorgeous, rude stranger. Pokey was actually smiling and even more beautiful, beaming up at Harry as they gripped each other’s arms in the macho version of a hug.

“Hey, Captain Morris.”

“Harry,” he corrected with a little shove to Pokey’s shoulder. “We’re in the real world now. Here, I’m just Harry.”

Nodding, Pokey kept silent and his eyes drifted over Harry’s shoulder to a hovering Beth. Following the other man’s gaze, Harry turned his head and saw her. He grabbed her hand and pulled her forward while Pokey’s smile disappeared as if it had never existed.

“Beth, this is Malachi West. I told you about him. Ky, this is my girlfriend.” Harry beamed at both of them, oblivious to their stunned expressions. Ky was the first to recover, his face smoothing into blankness as he gave her a cool nod.

Beth knew her mouth was hanging open, but couldn’t help herself. This was Ky?

The
Ky? Staring at the expressionless man in front of her, Beth realized that, now that the initial shock was passing, she could better understand Harry’s feelings. Ky was so gorgeous that it would be hard
not
to lust after the man.

“Wait—you called him Pokey?” She asked the first question that leapt into her mind.

Harry laughed. “Yeah, one of the guys, J.T.—he was from Texas—he once said that Ky was meaner than a rattler that had been poked by a stick. ‘Rattler poked by a stick’ is a bit long for a nickname, so it got shortened.”

“Huh.” Beth digested this. The amazing fact that the object of Harry’s crush was actually here, right in front of her, was shoved to the back of her brain to deal with later.

“So it has nothing to do with a bendy horse?”

Still chuckling, Harry gave her shoulders an affectionate hug. Ky’s face grew even more still, as smooth and cool as a sheet of ice.

“Hey, how long are you going to be in Denver?” Harry asked, not giving Ky a chance to answer before bending over and shouldering the abandoned duffel. “You’re going to stay with us, right?”

Ky shrugged noncommittally. Beth wondered if she had imagined the slight wince at the “us”. Despite Ky’s poker face, Beth was definitely getting the impression that Harry’s feelings for his Army buddy had not been one-sided. She knew that she should consider Ky a rival but, being crazy about Harry herself, she couldn’t help but be sympathetic.

“Of course he’s staying,” Beth jumped in and Ky gave her a sideways glance.

“We’re out of takeout leftovers though—let’s order pizza.” She gave an unmoving Ky a nudge toward the apartment stairs. When that didn’t work, she tried a harder shove. Ky stiffened and, for a moment, Beth was worried that he might walk out.

Harry’s fingers settled on his shoulder and the two men locked eyes for several brutally long seconds. When Ky finally dropped his gaze and took a step toward the stairs, Beth sucked in air, only then aware that she had been holding her breath.

“Come on!” Beth gave him another small push and Ky turned to glare at her. “No wonder they call you Pokey,” she said, making Harry laugh. Ky led the way up the stairs to the door of the loft, urged on by Harry’s hand on his back and Beth herding up the rear like a Border Collie.

“Better move,” Harry told Ky, his eyes sparkling. “When the woman gets hungry, she gets mean,” he whispered loudly, glancing mischievously back at Beth, who smacked his butt in retaliation.

They piled into the apartment and Beth called dibs on the shower. It might not make her the best hostess but her need was desperate—she stunk. As she ducked into the bathroom, she couldn’t resist glancing back at the two men, both so beautiful that, together, they took her breath away.

Harry grabbed two beers from the almost empty fridge and offered one to Ky, who accepted it with a nod. They sprawled into kitchen chairs, slouching against the backs and stretching their legs, unwittingly mirroring each other.

Ky glanced around. “Nice place,” he said.

“Thanks. It’s handy. When I opened the gym, it was just me—five a.m. to eleven at night. Having this place saved me. No commute—just drag my tired ass up the stairs and I was home.”

Harry couldn’t stop staring—he just couldn’t believe that Ky was actually here.

“Shit, it’s good to see you. What’s it been—a couple years?” Harry asked, taking a pull of his beer.

“Two and a half,” Ky corrected. At Harry’s raised eyebrow, he dropped his eyes to his beer.

“I emailed you,” Harry mentioned casually, trying to not make it sound like an accusation. “Called a few times. I even tried writing an actual letter.”

His eyes still lowered, Ky rubbed the back of his head. “Yeah.”

“Didn’t think about emailing back—letting me know you were alive?” Harry asked mildly.

Ky just shrugged. “Seemed…easier not to.”

“What have you been up to?” Harry had a pretty good idea where Ky had been—he had the watchful, jumpy energy of someone fresh out of combat.

“Iraq,” Ky confirmed. “Just finished a six-month stint. Spent a week with the old man in Chicago.” He focused on his beer bottle, picking at the label with his thumb.

“That was plenty, so I thought I’d visit Denver. See some old friends.”

Harry grinned and kicked Ky’s foot. “Glad you did. Seriously, you need to stay awhile. I have plenty of room here. It’s close to a pretty kick-ass gym too.”

“Girlfriend might have something to say about that,” Ky muttered, his mouth twisting.

“Beth’s cool,” Harry assured him. “You saw her. She pretty much shoved you up here.”

Ky just shrugged again, his eyes back on his beer.

“Hey, Cap’n,” Beth called, peering around the bathroom door. “Order the pizza—

I’m starving!” A glimpse of her bare shoulder sent Harry’s cock to instant attention. He gave her a suggestive grin and an acknowledging wave of his beer.

“Thanks.” She had obviously caught his drift, because she winked before disappearing back into the bathroom.

“You guys pretty serious then?” Ky asked, drawing Harry’s attention away from the closed door that hid a naked Beth.

It was Harry’s turn to shrug and flush a little. “Yeah, I guess. I mean, it’s just been a month—not even—but…it’s different.
She
’
s
different.” He took a drink of his beer and then pondered it, turning the bottle in his hands. “I never thought about…you know, settling down and all that shit. Beth…Beth makes me think about it.” Shooting a look at Ky, Harry shook his head, embarrassed. “What about you? Was there someone waiting for you to get home?”

“No. I thought that maybe…” Ky shook his head. “Never mind. I was stupid.

Aren’t you supposed to be ordering pizza?”

“Right.” Harry could tell that a deeper conversation was going on, that more was being said than just the words that were spoken, but he wasn’t sure how to bring the undercurrents to the surface.
Time for the deep shit later
, he thought. “What do you want on your pizza?”

They were all a little loopy. It was getting late and the three of them were sprawled in the living room, empty beer bottles collecting around them. Harry slouched in a chair, reminiscing with Ky about their Army days. Beth, sitting on the floor by his feet, her back propped against his legs, was taking full advantage of his loquaciousness.

Usually he was tight-lipped about his experiences in Afghanistan, releasing only tiny snippets and clues, so she listened intently, eager to fill in the gaps.

“You mentioned a guy from Texas—who was he?” she asked.

“J.T.,” Harry laughed and Ky’s expression lightened at the name.

“What was that short for?” Beth glanced between the two men.

“Justin Timberlake,” Ky answered, deadpan.

Eyeing him uncertainly, not sure if he was setting her up for a punch line, she asked, “Really?”

“Honestly,” Harry chuckled, reaching down to muss her hair. “His name was actually Michael Schwartz but he had deluded himself into thinking he looked just like Justin Timberlake. He was this scrawny, homely kid with these ears that stuck straight out—didn’t look a thing like the real J.T. but the nickname stuck.”

“He was always singing too,” Ky added. “Sounded like a pig being tortured.”

Harry nodded. “God, he did, didn’t he? He was lucky none of us shot him just to end our misery.”

“Especially Hammer—I thought he was going to take J.T. out one of those days.”

Half a smile pulled at Ky’s mouth.

“Hammer, as in MC?” Beth asked in disbelief. “Did you all have musicians for nicknames? Were you the boy-band unit?”

“Hammer as in hammerhead shark, dumbass,” Ky scoffed, hurling a throw pillow at her head. Beth ducked, grabbed the pillow and chucked it back at him.

“Okay, sorry, sorry,” she laughed. “Tell me the rest of the nicknames.”

“Well,” Harry began. “You know Pokey’s. Then there was Jughead—no mystery there—he just had a really, really big head—”

“Physically or are you talking enormous ego?” Beth interrupted to ask.

“Actual, real-live, huge head,” Harry confirmed.

“Huh.” Beth pondered that for a moment. “Who else?”

“Our medic, Barney—that was just a shortened version of his last name, Barnowzky.” Harry sobered and when Beth glanced over at Ky, she saw that his face had drawn tight.

“Have you heard from any of the guys?” Harry asked Ky, who shook his head.

Harry frowned. “Me neither—not for months. I need to call them up, get together or something. Hammer’s just outside Colorado Springs, you know—we could get to his place in an hour.” Both men were silent for a few moments until Harry spoke again.

“What was your Iraq unit like—were you guys tight?”

Ky took his time answering, draining his beer and carefully placing it with the other empties on the coffee table. “They were okay—good guys, I guess. They all thought I was an asshole.” He paused for so long that Beth opened her mouth to ask a question when Ky spoke again. “It was different, after Barney. You get your guts ripped out once, you aren’t too excited about setting yourself up for a second time.”

Beth glanced up at Harry, who looked sad and far away. “Yeah. Losing Barney was harsh.”

Sucking in a breath, Beth’s eyes grew huge. “Was he…?”

“Killed?” Ky finished harshly. “Yeah. Shot right in front of me. Yelled at me to get back and then bam—the back of his head is gone.”

Beth recoiled, making a small, horrified sound.

“Knock it off, Ky,” Harry ordered gruffly. “She doesn’t need to hear it.”

“It’s okay, Harry,” she told him, swallowing hard. “You guys had to see it. I shouldn’t be a big baby about just hearing the words.”

Harry reached down to stroke her hair and Beth tipped her head against the side of his knee. The silence lengthened and Beth, sleepy from the beer, felt her eyelids slide closed.

Pushing to her feet, Beth swayed a little then caught her balance. “I’m off to bed.

Hey, Cap’n—can I sleep over tonight?”

“As if you haven’t been sleeping over for the past month,” Harry snorted, snaking an arm around her hips and pulling her toward him. “Might as well move in here.”

“This place is just so convenient—it’s close to my gym,” she giggled as he tugged her into his lap with a growl. The room spun around her as she tumbled over the arm of the chair and sprawled against him. “And you have a really big bed. That’s nice.”

“I’m a big guy—I need a big bed.” Harry kissed her, a quick peck that caught and held, turning longer and deeper, until Beth gave a low groan and twisted off his lap, landing on her knees on the floor.

“Bed,” she stated firmly. “You guys talk. Good night, boys.” After giving Harry a quick, smacking kiss, Beth crossed to Ky and, with beer-inspired courage, bent down to give him a peck on the cheek. As she approached, he looked alarmed and froze under the brush of her lips. She looked down at him for a second, thinking that, despite his constant snarly mood, there was something of the little boy lost about Ky.

With beery sentimentality, Beth reached a hand down to ruffle his hair—or at least rub his buzz cut, since he didn’t have much hair to ruffle—but Ky jerked his head away from her with a scowl, glaring at her hand like it was a poisonous spider.

Instead of being offended, Beth grinned evilly and lunged for him. “Give us a big hug, Ky,” she cooed, trying to wrap her arms around him. He ducked and rolled out of his seat, easily gaining his feet and dodging behind Harry’s chair.

Harry laughed and covered his head with his arms. “Don’t use me for protection, man,” he warned. “She may look soft and squeezable but Beth can totally kick my ass.”

Beth advanced on them, plotting her attack. She decided that the quickest way to her goal was a straight line—and shot up and over Harry. Hard hands grabbed her before she made it to Ky and Harry hauled her down until she was sitting, laughing, straddling his lap.

He shook his head at her sternly. “How many times do I have to tell you? No jumping the guests.” His fingers were curled around the cheeks of her butt, tugging her firmly against his groin. Beth wiggled against the hard bulge at the front of his pants and felt, more than heard, his deep groan. She would have touched him, pressed her hands against his cock to feel his heat and hardness, but Beth glanced up and saw Ky watching them with an unreadable expression.

“Sorry,” she grinned at him, giving Harry a final quick kiss on the nose and a surreptitious press of her hips, making his eyes flare with need. “I’ll really go to bed now.”

Clamoring out of his lap, she gave them a flip of a wave and headed for the bedroom. Just the short press of his erection against her pussy had made her heart race.

She could feel the wetness of her arousal soaking her panties and Beth wished that Harry would hurry up and come to bed. She needed him inside her.