Heat of the Moment (Out of Uniform #1)

“Increased use of air conditioning during heat waves causes power outages,” she reminded him. “Which is why half the city is experiencing a blackout. I’d rather be all sweaty than without power for five days.”


She was pretty grateful, actually, that her bakery was the only place in a ten-mile radius that had power, all thanks to the backup generator she’d decided to switch on. No way was she going to put a strain on the generator by cranking the A/C. She hated using it as it was, but she had an entire refrigerator full of cakes that needed to be delivered tomorrow morning and she’d be damned if all those cakes spoiled because John Garrett wanted a little bit of cold air. She’d already done him and his Navy buddies a favor by opening the café on a Sunday evening. The lit-up front window drew the men like flies to honey. To them, electricity meant television, and television meant the ability to see the big game between the Padres and the Dodgers.

He lifted a brow. “You’re all sweaty, huh?”

Figured that he’d latch onto that one teeny part of her response.

“Yes, Garrett, I’m sweaty. It’s a billion degrees out there, in case you’ve forgotten.”

“Which only supports my idea about the air conditioning.”

“Forget it.” She set her jaw and crossed her arms over her chest to show she meant business. “Find another way to cool off.”

A loud cheer came from the adjoining room, followed by the sound of palms slapping against palms in high-fives. The Padres had obviously scored another run.

“The game’s almost done. You could take a quick dip in the ocean after you leave here,” she said, trying to be helpful.

But Garrett didn’t seem to be interested in cooling methods anymore. His chocolate-brown eyes narrowed, glittering with a mixture of amusement and curiosity as he studied her chest. “Are you…uh, lactating?”

Huh?

She quickly glanced down, suppressing a groan when she saw the round water stain that had seeped from her bra right through her thin yellow tank top.

“Ice,” she blurted.





7

Elle Kennedy

“Pardon me?”

“An ice cube fell down my shirt.”

He gave a husky little laugh that made her nipples harden again. Damn it. Everything about this man was way too appealing. His warrior body, his messy dark hair and teasing eyes, his laughter. She’d been attracted to Garrett from the second he’d sauntered into her bakery last year to buy a cake for his commander’s birthday. He’d requested the most obscene message to be written in icing, and from that moment on, she’d been a goner.

Maybe she was through with dating military men, but she knew that all John Garrett had to do was ask and she’d have her clothes off in a nanosecond.

But he didn’t ask. He never asked. In the year she’d known him Garrett hadn’t shown one iota of interest in getting naked with her.

“You should take off your shirt.”

Until now.

She managed a startled laugh. “Really? Why is that?”

His smile was boyishly innocent. “Because it’s all wet. Or, if you’d prefer, I could get a couple more of those ice cubes and rub them over your right breast. You know, so you match.”

She laughed again, this time to cover up the zing of arousal she’d just felt at the words “rub” and “your” and “breast” coming out of this man’s sexy mouth. He was obviously joking around. He had to be. Because although she’d imagined Garrett’s hands on her breasts countless times before, she knew the fantasy would forever stay in her imagination. If John Garrett wanted her, he’d have made a move a long time ago.

So instead of responding to his flirty remark, she said, “You’ll miss the end of your game.”

Something that resembled disappointment flickered in his dark eyes. “Yeah.” He coughed. “You’re right. I should, uh, head back in there. Sorry I came in here and bugged you.”

What? He thought he was bugging her?

8





Heat of the Moment

She opened her mouth to tell him he could hang out with her a bit longer, that she wasn’t trying to shoo him away, but he turned around before she could say a word. She got a glimpse of his taut backside disappearing through the doorway leading into the café and then he was gone.

Well.

Shelby leaned her elbows on the counter and rested her flushed face in her hands.

What exactly just happened here? She replayed the entire scene in her mind, starting with the way Garrett walked in and demanded she turn on the air conditioner and ending with his offer to rub her breasts. And then, of course, his abrupt departure.

Had she done something wrong? Had she not flirted enough? She would have flirted more, but she hadn’t seen the point. She’d tried it before, and Garrett always brushed off her suggestive remarks, making it obvious that he wasn’t interested but never making her feel as if she were inadequate or anything. He genuinely seemed to like her, but after a year of friendship it was clear he wasn’t into her the way she was into him.