Men of Courage: Trapped! / Buried! / Stranded!

Buck shoved him in the shoulder. “I’ll just eat them all myself then.”

“Hey.” Harris acted wounded by Buck’s selfishness. “You know I was just placating Rosie.”

After wrinkling her nose at the lot of them, Rosie began toasting bread. She had half a loaf out and hoped that’d be enough. Ethan wasn’t much on domesticity and therefore didn’t have an abundance of groceries. His apartment was a pigsty, his kitchen a disaster and his cabinets all but empty.

She glanced at the clock. She’d give the big coward two more minutes tops, then she’d drag him out of the shower whether he wanted to face them all or not. If he was still naked and wet—well, she wouldn’t cavil. In fact, the idea appealed to her.

Dragging him out proved unnecessary when not five seconds later Ethan appeared in the doorway. His mellow brown eyes were bloodshot, his blond hair still wet and only finger-combed, his feet bare. He’d pulled on clean jeans and a gray T-shirt, and to Rosie, he looked better than breakfast.

Her heart felt full to bursting. “You okay?”

He sent her a cautious sneer, hooked a chair, yanked it out from the table and dropped heavily into it. “I’ll live, if that’s what you mean.” His mean, red-eyed look moved around the room to encompass each of his friends. “I’m not going fishing today.”

“Of course not.”

“We understand.”

“You’re an ass, Ethan.”

That last was from Riley, of course. He seemed to love provoking Ethan. Rosie shook her head. They’d all known each other forever—with the exception of Riley who was late to the group, but had quickly become a good friend. They lived to give each other a hard time, so presumably, they were letting Ethan off the hook this time because of her. Since she and Ethan needed to talk, she didn’t object.

Without a word, she set a cup of strong black coffee in front of Ethan. He drank half of it, cursed when he burned his tongue, then glared at her. “You’re not my housekeeper or my cook.”

“With the way you live, you couldn’t pay me enough to be either.”

Harris snickered. Buck held his breath.

Riley said, “You are a damn slob. When was the last time you cleaned?”

“What’s it to you, Mom?” He drank the rest of the coffee and Rosie silently refilled his cup. He muttered his grudging thanks.

Riley lounged back in his seat. Because his censure was so obvious, his silence was more annoying than chatter would have been.

Rosie served the men. When she started to take her own seat, Riley stood to pull out her chair. Ethan growled at him, and Riley growled back.

Men. They could be so unaccountably strange. “Dig in, fellas.”

The next few minutes were filled with sounds of appreciation as the men practically inhaled the enormous amount of food she’d set on the table.

In all the time she’d known Ethan, she’d seen him drunk twice—this being the second time.

It amazed her that Ethan could eat such a hardy meal after a hangover. Other than his bloodshot eyes and listlessness, you wouldn’t know he’d been so miserable just half an hour before.

Harris finished first. “Damn, that was good, Rosie.” He patted his flat stomach. “If I come back tonight, will you cook dinner, too?”

Ethan pierced her with a direct stare. Rosie smiled. “Sure, Harris. Come on by my house around six. I planned on making stew today.”

His brows shot up. “Really? I mean, I was kidding, but hell, I’m always up for your stew.”

Buck pushed back his empty plate. “If that sorry sack is invited, then naturally I’m coming, too.”

“I’ll make plenty.” Rosie loved to hang out with the guys. Because she’d had a tendency to tail her older brother wherever he went, she’d grown very close to the lot of them. She had very few female friends, thus the guys had become the sum total of her social circle.

Riley shook his head. “You’re both mooches. But what would one more matter? Count me in.”

Ethan’s chair scraped back across the floor. He snatched up his empty plate, caused an awful clatter as he roughly stacked the rest of the empty dishes, then moved to the sink. He kept his back to them all as he scraped the plates before nearly throwing them in the dishwasher.

The men looked at each other, shrugged, then prepared to leave. One by one they gave Rosie a hug and a hardy thank-you, with Riley choosing to go last.

He tipped up her chin. “I’ll be back by three. You want to come by the gym? Maybe work off some tension?” He gave a meaningful nod of his head toward Ethan’s rigid back.

“I suppose that’d be better than killing anyone, huh?”

Riley laughed. “You’re getting good, sugar, but not that good. Not yet.”

Ethan jerked around. “Just what the hell does that mean?”

Harris and Buck hunkered out, muttering to Riley that they’d meet him in the truck.

Riley crossed his arms over his chest and faced Ethan. “She’s taking lessons.”

With an expression of incredulous disbelief, Ethan looked from Rosie to Riley and back again. “What kind of lessons would those be?”

His tone was so suspicious that Rosie laughed. “Self-defense, mixed with some knife fighting.” She took a stance and chopped the air with a fist. “I’m going to be lethal.”

Rather than appeased, Ethan appeared more livid. “What the hell are you doing that for? Has someone been bothering you?”

She resisted the urge to say you and shook her head. “I just like staying in shape and knowing I can take care of myself. I’m single, remember?”

Ethan’s face turned red and he strangled on his reply.

Pulling the tiger’s tail, Riley said, “Don’t worry, Ethan. I’m real gentle with her.”

Rosie thought Ethan’s eyes might cross. Instead he fumed in silence for nearly a full thirty seconds before stalking out of the room.

“Oh, boy,” Riley rumbled under his breath. He gestured for Rosie to precede him as he headed to the front door. Ethan waited for them there, holding it open, his impatience to be alone with Rosie plain.

Riley walked out into the hallway. “Be good, kids.”

“You know I’m always good. But I can’t make any promises for Ethan.”

He winked at her. “You’ll keep him in line.”

Ethan snapped the door shut, then turned both locks with a dreadful sense of finality. When he faced Rosie, she decided a strategic retreat was in order; he did not look like a happy man.

In fact, he looked very unhappy. Or maybe “riled” was the word. Yeah, he looked downright riled. She supposed Riley’s teasing flirtation hadn’t helped matters.

Ethan was used to Harris and Buck razzing her. After all, they’d all grown up in the same neighborhood. The three of them had been best buds with her brother—until her brother had slipped off with Ethan’s fiancée.