Read Under Seige for Free Online

faded denim. Her hand draped over the armrest to rock Patrick's car seat while Zach carried load after load of roses, carnations and daisies.
    "How's Shelby?"
    "Don't ask." He battled a bouquet of balloons from her passenger seat.
    "That good, huh?"
    "You got it." A salty breeze gusted off the ocean, dragging the balloons behind him as he took the steps in two strides. He looped the dangling ribbons around a post into a slip knot and tucked his hands in his back pockets.
    Nothing left in her trunk, no safe territory remaining to explore, Julia's gaze skittered from the gaping door of her empty house, back to the too-intriguing man on her porch. "Uh, do you want to sit for a minute?
    Patrick should sleep for at least another hour."
    "You need to rest."
    "I can rest in the rocker."
    He checked his watch. "Sure. I have another few minutes before I have to pick up Ivy."
    Zach hitched up onto the porch rail across from her. Palmetto trees rustled in the silence, a barge horn blaring in the distance.
    He jerked a thumb toward the casserole dish on the top step. "I brought chili. Light on the spices since you're— uh—nursing."
    "Oh. Thanks." Heat tingled up her face, an answering tingle settling in her breasts as she even thought of nursing. Of Zach seeing her. Let-down reflex, of course. Nothing more, she reassured herself. "You didn't have to, but we'll be gracious receivers. Patrick and I can't very well live off my one claim to culinary fame. Slice-'n'-bake cookies."
    "Last I heard," Zach said, his drawl twining around her like the warm fall breeze, "gourmet cooking skills weren't on St. Peter's list of mandatory requirements for passing through the pearly gates."
    "Good thing."
    Twenty-four hours ago, they would have shared a laugh and now she couldn't even meet his eyes. She missed the comfort of their unlikely friendship. Needing the precious reassurance of her baby in her arms more than ever, Julia bent to unbuckle Patrick.
    Baby nestled on her shoulder, she kicked off her sandals, her head lolling back to rest. She propped her feet on the bottom brace of her porch rail and rocked, arching and flexing her bare feet.
    Zach's gaze fell to her legs, then her feet, lingering on her painted toenails.
    Uh-oh.
    Before she could blink, he reached, grabbed the porch eave and hefted himself up. Swinging a leg onto the roof, he disappeared overhead. Heavy footsteps thudded from above.
    "Colonel?"
    Had she imagined his momentary glance due to leftover wishful musings from her midnight pedicure? Julia stood as quickly as her aching body would allow and padded barefoot down the four steps into her yard so she could look up at him. "What are you doing?"
    "Last week's storm tore up your trees."
    Shading her eyes, she watched him stomp across the roof punting branches to the ground. "Please be careful. I don't have the energy to cart you to the ER."
    "Not a chance. Walking around up here's nothing. I was scaling oil rigs while other kids were climbing monkey bars. Kinda like flyin' without the plane if you swing out just right."
    She couldn't miss the edge of excitement in his voice as it rambled out over her yard, or how at home he looked that much closer to the sky even now.
    He scooped a handful of leaves out of her gutters and sent them fluttering to the ground. "I'll head back over later and clear out the rest of these."
    "Do you ever sit still for more than two minutes, Colonel?"
    "Nope. Waste of time. Call me Zach."
    "Relaxing's never a waste of time, Colo— What did you say?"
    "Call me Zach."
    Standing on her roof, feet braced, sun at his back he'd never looked less like a Zach and more like a commander. He towered, inky-black hair as dark as the shadow he cast across her slate roof. His frown equally as dark. The whole image so fascinating she would call him the Easter Bunny if he asked.
    Julia snuggled her son closer as a reminder for safer thoughts. As much as she might be tempted to toss caution off like a pair of sandals, she