Code Name: Nanny (SEAL and Code Name #5)(39)

Her hip bumped his groin. When she tried to turn away, she bumped him again.

His lips curved slightly. “If you’re trying to distract me, you’re succeeding.”

Summer took a slow breath, keenly aware of his body holding her. “I’m not trying.”

“You’re still succeeding.”

She didn’t know what to say. The strange thing was that men’s bodies didn’t usually excite her. Usually intelligence and a sense of humor caught her attention first.

But very few men had bodies like Gabe’s. He was dressed in well-worn navy sweatpants and no shirt, and Summer could feel every sculpted muscle like a blast of heat.

Which was absolutely pathetic.

She cleared her throat. “Aren’t you done yet?”

“Three more.” He bracketed her body with his locked thighs. “These two along your neck may hurt.”

Not as much as seeing his abs only inches away.

“Hey.” Summer winced as he pulled a nasty black spine free. “How come you know so much about these things?”

Gabe didn’t look up, angling the light down for a better view as he extracted another long barb. “I was born in Arizona. My parents moved to Wyoming when I was seven.”

“When did you meet the senator? He told us that he’d known your family forever.”

Gabe looked up and flashed a smile. “He’s got forty acres in Wyoming, right across the valley from the ranch where I grew up. He used to spend all his free time there. Of course, now he has no more free time left.”

Summer tried to stop the odd, dizzy sensation of bubbles climbing up her throat. She found herself staring at Gabe’s callused hands, which was even worse, because she realized how gentle he could be, calluses and all. “It’s good that he’s taking Cara and the girls away to the ranch for a few days. They could all use some R and R. So it’s pretty nice, this valley of yours?”

“Spring-fed lake. Mountains and white-water rafting. You can ride for four days and not see a single road.”

“Ride an ATV?”

Gabe gave an exasperated laugh. “A horse, woman. The only way to travel in the backcountry.”

“Somehow I can’t imagine a techno guy like you on top of a horse.”

“Some things are best done the old-fashioned way. From a saddle, you can feel the wind and smell the sap rise in the pine trees.”

“You miss it, don’t you?”

Gabe didn’t answer.

Summer felt a burning pain at the base of her thumb. “Ow.”

Gabe held up his tweezers, gripping a long, barbed needle. “Got it.”

“No wonder it hurt.”

When she started to stand up, Gabe stopped her. “Let me clean you up.” He opened an antiseptic wipe, dabbing it over her hands and neck.

“I, uh, appreciate it.” Summer nudged him aside and stood up awkwardly. “Your help, I mean.”

Gabe stood, too, cupping her chin. “Did you rub your face?”

“Maybe. Why?”

“You’ve got a needle on your lip.” Frowning, he ran his hand along her cheek. “Give me a second.”

Summer was intensely aware of every inch of his body as he bent closer. “Get it,” she rasped.

“Don’t move.”

She closed her eyes as his finger skimmed the curve of her lower lip. Their thighs bumped and Summer’s heart began to pound. “Can’t you hurry?”

She heard his breath still. There was a quick, sharp prick at her lip.

Gabe cursed. “It’s bleeding. Your lip must be—” He cleared his throat. “Sensitive. At your mouth, I mean.” He leaned back. “Here’s a swab. Probably you can handle that part yourself.” His voice sounded strained.

Summer grabbed the square of white cotton and jammed it against her mouth, then gasped in pain.

“Watch it.” Gabe pulled the cotton free and brushed her lip. “You always do things the hard way, don’t you?”

“Not that I’m aware of.”

“And you don’t trust people very much, either.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Summer said stiffly.

“Then why are your hands locked into fists right now?”

“I don’t—” When Summer looked down, she was stunned to see that her hands were raised, fisted against his chest. She looked away. “Okay, so maybe I do have a few trust issues.”

“Anything you want to discuss?” he asked quietly.

Summer felt more zinging sensations in her chest. She realized his hand wasn’t quite steady at her mouth, and something shimmered to life, vague and powerful, drawing her closer.

Abruptly, Gabe stood up and tossed the strip of cotton into the garbage. “You’d better beat it. You’ve got security rounds in fifty-three minutes.”

Summer ran her tongue across her lip, which still stung. To her irritation, the fuzzy, disoriented feeling was getting worse. “Thanks.” Her gaze slid to his rumpled bed, where two pillows were pulled together in a mound, the blanket folded back in a crooked line.

She could imagine him sleeping there, one arm behind his head and the covers half-off. She wondered what he would be wearing beneath that single thin sheet.

Serious mental aberration.