Servicing the Target (Masters of the Shadowlands #10)(51)
Author: Cherise Sinclair

His face darkened. “He’d better not give you any grief.”

Even though his protectiveness was oddly warming, her spine still stiffened. “Down, Benjamin. I can handle my own family.”

After a second, he gave a jerk of his head. “Yes, Ma’am, I guess you could, at that.”

The way he could be protective, yet trust her to look after herself, both warmed and delighted her—and she indulged herself in a long, decadent kiss.

On the way out, she stopped to pet Bronx. “You’re such a good dog.” His tail thumped the carpet.

Downstairs, she unlocked the back door that opened onto her high deck.

Travis sauntered in. “’Bout time. You’re getting slow, sis.” He tugged on her hair.

Jeans, ratty gray T-shirt, boots. His hair was the same rich brown as hers, although kept almost as short as in his military days. Dark blue eyes, classically handsome features, tall and muscular and tan. Like their mother, he was far more fun loving and sociable than she was.

If she’d had a favorite brother, he might have made the cut.

“I saw the extra vehicle outside.” He headed straight to the kitchen. “Got a new man?”

“You are such a snoopy-pants.” Despite the late afternoon time, she selected a caramel-flavored coffee pod and put it into the Keurig. “What are you doing over here?”

“No food in my fridge. Any chance you have lasagna left?” He gave her the appealing grin which worked so well on his women.

Sex appeal didn’t work on a sister, poor lad.

“Maybe. And maybe I’d feed you if you mow my lawn.” She took her cup from the machine and inserted a dark roast coffee pod for him, along with a clean mug.

“Deal. Can I get garlic bread too?”

“Fine.” She pulled out the remains of a loaf of French bread and started to cut slices. A few minutes later, Ben and Bronx came down the stairs.

Travis’s jaw dropped as he stared at Ben. “Jesus fuck, where’d she find you?”

The guard dog’s shoulders stiffened.

Anne smacked the back of her brother’s head. “Were you raised in a barn?” How could she explain to Ben that Travis hadn’t meant his words as an insult?

“Ah, sorry, man. Didn’t mean it that way,” Travis said.

When Ben’s gaze hit hers, comprehension showed on his face as he undoubtedly recalled her typically younger, more slender slaves.

“Ben, this is my brother, Travis. Travis, Ben.”

“Good to meet you.” Travis bent to let Bronx sniff his hand and then ruffled his fur. “Great-looking dog.”

“Thanks.”

Anne walked over to put an arm around Ben, to finish easing the awkwardness her brother had created. “Ben, Travis is here to mooch leftovers since I made lasagna a couple of days ago. If you hate Italian food, I have sandwich fixings.” She pushed the basket holding the coffee pods toward him. “Pick a coffee if it’s not too late for you. Or there’s wine and beer in the fridge.”

“If you have enough, lasagna sounds fantastic.”

“I always make plenty.” She buttered the bread, adding herbs and garlic, then tucked the tray under the broiler. The lasagna went into the microwave. “Travis, aren’t you off work a little early?”

“Well, yeah. I didn’t want to miss any of the fun.” He took his cup from the machine, motioned to Ben to use it, and frowned at Anne. “Did you forget you’d planned a team exercise tonight?”

She froze. “That’s on…oh, damn. I lost track. A friend needed a rush move today. That’s where Ben and I were earlier.”

“Yeah, Mom wondered why you weren’t at Sunday dinner.” Travis looked at her over his cup. “Is your buddy all moved or do you need more help?”

And that was why she loved her brothers. Hardasses, but with good hearts. “We got her all set up.”

Ben was watching her, his gaze intent. “If you have work planned, sounds as if I need to get moving along.”

Travis looked him over slowly, eyes speculative. “You ever shot a firearm?”

“A time or two.” Ben’s voice was…odd. Anne studied him, trying to read his body language. Assurance was there, but he’d tensed as well. His face had gone unreadable, eyes shuttered. But, as a soldier, he would have not only used weapons, but also killed.

“Military?” Travis always had to push. When Ben nodded, he frowned. “You’ve been out for a while to get your hair that long.”

Ben grinned and relaxed. “’Bout five years now. You?”

“Only two. Marines.”