Sophie pulled into the driveway at four o’clock on Saturday afternoon, ready for a long soak in a hot bath. She had treated herself to a morning of pampering; her hair was freshly styled, and her nails had a shiny coat of crimson polish. Grabbing her purse, she hefted a grocery bag and breezed through the door and into the kitchen to set her purse and the bag of groceries on the kitchen bar.

“Hi, Bryce.”

Sophie glanced in his direction and vaguely noted that he was sitting on a chair near the window that faced the backyard. He wore a camouflaged fishing hat, and he was crouched forward holding a fishing pole in his hands. He stared intently out the window.

Puzzled, Sophie turned fully toward Bryce.

He displayed all the characteristics of an avid fisherman anxiously anticipating the moment when a fish snags the hook.

“What’s with the fishing pole?”

As the words came out of her mouth, she heard a sharp staticky hiss. She scanned the room, searching for the source of the sound, when a clear voice spoke.

“Ready on your end, Bryce?” said the voice from a two-way radio sitting on the windowsill next to him.

Bryce grabbed the radio and depressed the button on the side. “Roger that.”

Sophie looked out the window to see where the length of heavy fishing line led. It was attached to the handle of the gate connecting her backyard with the new neighbor’s backyard.

Through the open window, she heard a cat screech followed by a dog’s yelp.

“The enemy has crossed the line of demarcation, and the allied force is under attack. Get ready to counterstrike with operation Mad Cat. On my signal...”

The dog’s frightened yelp turned into an angry bark. Suddenly, she saw Cujo appear at the top of the gate.

“Now!” came the voice over the radio.

Bryce reeled in the fishing line as fast as his hand could move. As the line tautened, the latch jerked downward, and the gate crashed open as the huge hound dog came hurtling through.

Sophie was out the kitchen door before Cujo hit the ground. The cat headed straight for Sophie with the dog in hot pursuit. Cujo made a desperate leap straight at Sophie. Her arms closed around her cat only a moment before the black-and-tan behemoth launched itself into the air.

The impact knocked Sophie to the ground where she lay gasping for breath.

Abandoning his would-be rescuer, Cujo scrambled for the nearest tree, scaling it with effortless ease. Once he reached a perch, he shook himself to regain his poise, then turned to casually observe the melee on the ground below.

Rambo sniffed around Sophie as she lay in a heap on the ground trying to catch her breath after the wind had been so thoroughly knocked out of her. When she had caught her breath, Sophie shoved the dog out of her face and sat up carefully.

When the dog realized the cat had moved on, he followed the scent to the base of the tree where Cujo lounged.

“Oh, geez. It’s broken,” Sophie wailed.

Bryce rushed out the door. “What’s broken? Are you all right, Sophie?”

“No, I am not all right,” Sophie moaned, close to tears.

“What’s hurt? Did you break something?” Bryce knelt beside her.

“I broke my nail!” she wailed and burst into tears.

“Oh, is that all? I thought you’d broken something important.” Bryce rose and offered Sophie a hand up.

“Get that damn dog out of my yard. What were you trying to do? Kill my cat?”

“Uh, no... We were just trying to teach Cujo a lesson.”

“We?”

“Yeah, the new neighbor and me. Oh, by the way, I invited him to dinner for a home-cooked meal tonight. I didn’t think you’d mind.”

“Mind?” Sophie’s face flushed hot. “Did you think to ask me first before you invited a total stranger to dinner?” As Bryce’s other comment sank in, Sophie’s face puckered into a frown. “Did I hear you say home-cooked? You know I don’t do home-cooked.” She looked down at her wrecked nails, her torn shirt and her grass-stained clothes. “And do I look ready to entertain?”

“No, but if you go get ready now, you’ll have just enough time.”

“Why, what time are we expecting him?”

“At five,” he said, heading for the house. “I’ll put the groceries away, while you get a shower.”

Back in the kitchen, Sophie watched as Bryce retrieved the radio from the windowsill and pressed the button.

“Operation Mad Cat was a success. See ya at five!”

“Roger that,” said the voice on the radio.

Strange, but the voice sounded somewhat familiar to Sophie. A shiver of recognition rippled across her body before she pulled herself together and marched into her bedroom, stripping off her damaged clothes. Not only was she obsessing over her one-night stand, she was imagining his voice over a two-way radio. She really needed to get a grip and take her mind off her problems. What better way than to focus her ire on the brother who’d nearly killed her cat.

Of all the stupid, idiotic, numbskulls, Bryce topped them all. Sophie had intended on soaking in a hot bath then cuddling up in bed with a good book, to complete her day of well-deserved pampering.

It had been three weeks since she’d the luxury of a day off, and next weekend was drill weekend, and those were anything but relaxing. Time to play Army again. When was a girl supposed to get some rest and relaxation? She loved her brother dearly, but this was too much.

Last weekend had been an unqualified disaster. She had sworn off men forever, and here was Bryce, parading another one in front of her. His intentions were sweet, but if he had meant it to bolster her lagging self-image, it was having the opposite effect. She wasn’t sure she could handle any more situations like last weekend. Sophie trudged into her room as if she were marching to a firing squad.

“At least this will give me the chance to tell the neighbor a thing or two about his damn dog.”

She slung open her closet, muttering obscenities under her breath about Bryce, dogs and men in general. As she riffled through her clothes for something to wear, her hand paused as it came in contact with the black dress she’d worn on her night out with Captain Jerk. She was amazed at how clearly she could conjure up the image of him standing across from her in the crowded barroom. Try as she might, she could not recall anything else she’d seen around her at that particular moment. As if in a dream, everything around him had simply faded away.

Sophie shook her head, hoping to clear the mental picture as easily as a child cleared an Etch-a-Sketch. She grabbed panties and a bra and marched into the bathroom. Since she didn’t have time for the hot bath she’d been looking forward to, a shower would have to suffice. She wrapped a towel around her hair, snapped on the water, stripped and stepped into the shower.

The heat of the water penetrated her tensed shoulder muscles and smoothed down her spine. She was immediately transported back to the previous weekend, when she’d stood in a larger shower in the hotel room. Only, at that time, she hadn’t been alone, and Gage’s hands had smoothed a path over her shoulders and down her spine. With those big, work-roughened hands, he’d cupped her bottom to bring her hips closer to his, the heat of his shaft pressed firmly into her belly. Her breasts had been crushed against the hair on his powerful chest, and her breaths had rasped. She sank deeper into the memory…

His teeth pulled at her lower lip then abandoned it to trace a rivulet of water sliding along her cheek. The water slipped over her chin and trailed down her throat, followed closely by the warm wetness of his lips and tongue.

Sophie felt the heat intensify between her legs, and dropped her head back as she had done when Gage had pursued the water coursing down her neck. Her hand lifted to the breast Gage had tantalized with his teeth and tongue. The nipple hardened, and her breast swelled with need. Sophie heard a moan and realized it was from her own throat.

Disgusted, she listened for noises outside the bathroom, hoping Bryce hadn’t heard.

She was getting pathetic. Why couldn’t she get the man off her mind? Sophie turned the water to cold to chill the fire and scrubbed briskly to remove the paw prints and dog slobber from her arms and face.

In no time, she stepped out of the shower to towel dry. She rewrapped her hair in her towel and slipped into her panties and bra. After applying a light coat of base makeup, she unwound the turban from her head and shook her hair free. With a brush, Sophie pulled hard at the tangles until her light blond hair shone in the lights around the mirror. Her mother had always told her that her hair was her crowning glory. Seeing it shine in the mirror, she had to agree. Her mother had also told her that when you look good, you go a long way toward feeling good.

Sophie added a little eye shadow, mascara, and lipstick. Ignoring her glasses, she popped a green contact into each eye. Sophie padded back into her bedroom, wearing only her bra and panties, and reached into the closet. Ignoring the black sheath, she pulled out a short red dress. It didn’t look like much as it hung limply on the hanger, but it looked wonderful on. She would never have purchased the dress, except the saleswoman had insisted it was “her”. Sophie stepped into the dress and pulled it up over her hips, and then she reached around to zip it. She stood before the full-length mirror in her bedroom.

The dress most definitely suited her. She knew she looked good, and it made her feel ready for anything.

“Damn the bastions and prepare for war. Bring on the neighbor!”

---

Sophie checked the time. If she were going to prepare a dinner for their guest, she would have to get moving. She headed to the kitchen.

“What to do... What to do...” Sophie mumbled aloud to herself, as she reviewed the contents of the pantry. Then she glanced into the refrigerator for inspiration.

“It would have been nice if he’d given me time enough to order out.”

She went back to the pantry and pulled out a jar of ready-made spaghetti sauce and a box of pasta. She removed a solid block of frozen hamburger meat from the freezer and popped it in the microwave oven to thaw. She set a large pot of water on the stove and turned on the heat. When the microwave chimed, she turned to pull out the shapeless gray lump of half-cooked hamburger. Quickly, she stripped the limp plastic wrapping from the meat and plopped the soggy mess into a skillet and switched on the stove.

“Uh-oh, toast!”

Sophie turned to switch the oven onto broil, pulled out a loaf of French bread from the breadbox and began slicing. She slathered the bread with butter and garlic, laid it on a cookie sheet then shoved it under the warming broiler.

Returning to the stove, she poked the meat with the spatula, attempting to break the frozen center. She tried to move the lump around in the pan and realized it was stuck to the bottom. She applied more force, scraping until she freed it, but the edges were beginning to blacken.

Damn. She picked at the burned pieces, thinking it looked hopeless. It was time to hide the evidence and add the sauce.

Sophie struggled to open the jar then poured the sauce over the half-cooked, burned meat. The sauce looked somewhat bland, so she searched through her spice rack for more inspiration. She snatched a jar of garlic salt and turned the shaker upside down over the pot, smacking the bottom of the jar sharply. The plastic dispenser top flew off the jar, and the entire contents spilled into the sauce.

“Damn!”

Sophie was frantically scooping the excess garlic salt out of the sauce when she heard a knock at the kitchen door behind her. She gave up any further attempts at removing the garlic and stirred the rest into the mixture. Over her shoulder she called out, “Come in.”

Belatedly, she remembered to shove the empty sauce jar and the garlic bottle into the trash container under the kitchen sink to maintain the outward appearance of a “home-cooked” meal.

“Hello, I’m your new neighbor, Gage.”

She froze and closed her eyes for a moment. Was this another trick of her imagination? That husky timber could belong to none other than...

Sophie turned slowly to face her new neighbor, a feeling of dread dropping over her.

“You!” they both exclaimed.

Sophie’s heart leapt as a smile lit Gage’s face.

“Oh, so you two have met.” Bryce’s eyes sparkled with mischief as he entered the kitchen and slid an arm around Sophie’s shoulders. As Bryce’s arm came to rest on Sophie, Gage’s smile faded, and his eyes rounded in horror.

What? Had she sprouted a wart on her nose? Why the look of horrible shock? Could it be he’d discovered her connection to his unit?