Intermix titles by June Gray
The Disarm Series
DISARM
BESIEGE
RETREAT
THE HENRY SESSIONS
ENGAGE
CAPTURE
DISARM
A Disarm Novella
June Gray
INTERMIX BOOKS, NEW YORK
INTERMIX BOOKS
Published by the Penguin Group
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have control over and does not have any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.
DISARM
An InterMix Book / published by arrangement with the author
PUBLISHING HISTORY
InterMix eBook edition / May 2013
Copyright © 2012 by June Gray.
Cover photo by Dundanim.
Cover design by June Gray.
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.
For information, address: The Berkley Publishing Group,
a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.,
375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.
ISBN: 978-0-698-14955-7
INTERMIX
InterMix Books are published by The Berkley Publishing Group and New American Library, divisions of Penguin Group (USA) Inc., 375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.
INTERMIX and the “IM” design are trademarks of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.
DEDICATION
To the men and women married to the military:
You are the strongest, kindest, most courageous people I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing and I am proud to be in your company.
Military life is tough, but we are tougher.
1 | ASSESSING THE SITUATION
It wasn’t my fault—at least, not entirely. Henry Logan, my roommate and Captain in the Air Force, was technically to blame. The guy had been acting so unusually moody for the past five weeks that I was getting desperate to see a smile on his face. So that Saturday night, I suggested we head to our favorite bar at Bricktown and just drink the night away, confident that Henry, even in his grumpy-bear state, could never turn down beer.
After parking his convertible Mustang, we walked down the street to Tapwerks in silence. I waited for him to open up, to tell me what had been bothering him, but no dice.
“What is with you lately?” I asked.
Henry stuck his hands in his jacket pocket and shrugged. “Nothing, why?”
I raised an eyebrow at him. He could successfully pull off the nonchalant attitude on anyone but me. I’d known him for thirteen years and had lived with him for two. I could decipher his every expression, sometimes to the point of reading his mind. “Come on. Are you on your period or something?” I asked with a teasing jab of the elbow. “Do you need to borrow a tampon?”
That finally got a small laugh out of him. “Elsie, you are such a brat,” he said. He reached over to ruffle my curly brown hair, but I anticipated the move and did a little ninja-ballerina maneuver to avoid him.
“Hey,” I said, “leave the hair alone.” I slipped my arm through his as we stood in line for the bar—Tapwerks was the place to be on weekends—trying to pilfer some of his warmth. He was 6’2” and built like a brick wall; he had plenty of everything to spare.
As I craned my head to study the people in line, dressed up in their casual best, I suddenly caught a glimpse of Henry, his face partially lit by the soft glow from the bar’s windows. It struck me then that he was really no longer that awkward kid I grew up with but a man, and a gorgeous one at that. I’d always known he was good-looking—hell I’d had a crush on him since my brother started hanging out with him in their sophomore year of high school—but the way the shadows played on his face rendered planes I never knew existed. His short dark hair and the scruff on his strong jaw lent a nice contrast to his olive skin, and he had a proud nose with a little cleft at the end that matched the cleft on his chin. But it was his eyes that drew my gaze, those icy blues that seemed as if they could see into my every thought.
I stared at him for a long moment, feeling a strange tickle in my chest, when I came to the realization that he was staring back.
“You okay, Elsie?” he asked in that husky, gravelly voice of his. Had he always sounded so sexy?
I gave him my best sunny smile, shaking off the confusing feelings that had snuck up on me. “Just wondering why you don’t have a girlfriend.”
His lips quirked up a little and I felt a finger tickle me on the side, but he didn’t bother answering the question.
~
Inside, the two floors were at full capacity and there were no available tables or chairs, so we stood at the bar, trying our hardest to get the bartender’s attention. I was only 5’6”, so Henry theoretically had a better chance at visibility, but somehow, the male bartender’s eyes just kept flitting right over him as if he was invisible.
“Let me try.” I stepped up on the brass rail that ran along the bottom of the bar and squeezed my arms together, causing instant cleavage over the low neck of my loose top.
The bartender noticed. He finished up his orders and came right to me with an appreciative smile. “What’ll it be?”
“Woodchuck Cider, Sam Adams, and two tequila shots,” I said, and straightened up.
Henry was doing the big brother scowl when I joined him back down on the floor.
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