Under the Gun (CEP Book 3) Read Free Page A

two years, he’d watched both his brothers fall hard for their women. His baby brother Chase, who was four years younger, had gone after Julia with a vengeance that had had Gunner shaking his head. Then when Layton, who at thirty-two was two years older than Gunner, had proposed to Genevieve, a model Lay had met at some big Hollywood casting party for the movie script he’d written, Gunner’d had to laugh that it was he who remained the sole Murphy brother with a fucking brain left in his head. Why the hell they wanted that snafu in their lives was a mystery to him.
    And God knew he needed more complications like he needed a hole in his head.
    Chrissakes, he’d already been to hell and back when he’d flown choppers in the Army. He’d been a Night Stalker, flying with Special Forces, performing top-secret operations at night, and after an eight-year stint fighting for his country, he’d come home. But that shit had stayed with him for a long-ass time, especially since several of the soldiers in his company had been killed—one of which had been his best friend Nate—when wires had been crossed on one of their missions. Of course, they weren’t supposed to have been where they’d flown into—which was standard operating procedure via the United States government—but somehow the enemy had gotten the fucking intel on their assignment and had blown things up, literally.
    Afterward, he’d felt like a ticking time bomb.
    Tick tock.
    He’d gone off on his commanding officer, disobeying orders, which had almost gotten him court martialed.
    Tick tock.
    When his enlistment had ended, he’d come home and dropped his girlfriend with no explanation—but seeing that she’d been Nate’s fiancée’s best friend, she’d only been a reminder of everything.
    Tick tock.
    Losing Nate had opened Gunner’s eyes to his own mortality which had more than screwed him up.
    Tick tock.
    And when he’d drunkenly slammed his Camaro into a retaining wall almost killing himself— BOOM! —his dad had had enough and got him into deep counseling which had helped tremendously.
    So, yeah, he knew a complication when he saw it and tried avoiding it at all cost.
    And Quinn McDonnell had had complication written all over her.
    That all being said, there was no doubt he’d fuck her if the opportunity arose; he just needed to make sure she knew that was all it’d be.
    Now as Gunner walked behind the women, he scanned the restaurant for signs of anything out of the ordinary that might pose a threat to the women, like, oh, say, one of the Morettis who’d happened to make the unfortunate choice of dining at Scarpetta tonight. But upon seeing that the coast was clear for now, he couldn’t help the full smirk that covered his face as Quinn and Oz’s wife whispered to each other in front of him.
    And he knew exactly what they were talking about: him.
    “Here we are,” their hostess said, stopping at a table that had a booth against the wall on one side and two chairs on the other. “Your server, David, will be with you shortly,” she informed them as she placed menus on the table. Before leaving, her eyes shifted to Gunner and she smiled flirtatiously at him. He grinned back then his attention returned to Quinn in time to see her frowning at the young woman as she slid into the booth side, which made him raise an eyebrow. She was jealous that the girl had flirted with him. Interesting.
    Once the women were seated, he turned to walk back to the front to stand lookout but Oz’s wife, Tilly, spoke up. “Gunner! You’re sitting with us! John would have if he were here, so now you are.” She beamed up at him wickedly, nodding toward the booth across from her where Quinn sat and his lips tilted up seeing that Tilly was trying to play matchmaker.
    When he turned his gaze upon Quinn, he caught her bugging her eyes out at her friend who was now smiling widely back and chuckled to himself. Oh, what the hell. Might as well get some grub and have a