Shelli Stevens

The bastard deserved it.

Abby Cook glanced around the dark parking lot of the apartment complex, and tightened her grip on the bottle of brake fluid.

Her cousin Kelly was too sweet—more than content to drown her heartbreak in twelve boxes of tissue. But Abby had a different definition of healing, and the lousy piece of shit was going to get what was coming to him.

Hot fury spread through her blood. Poor Kelly. What kind of man lied about being married while screwing around with a nineteen-year-old girl?

The kind who’s going to wake up to a nasty little surprise.

The whole situation was just another reason why she refused to date military men. She hadn’t been much older than Kelly when she’d gotten her own heart stomped on by one. Abby intended to make sure that this military man didn’t get off easy—nobody messed with her little cousin that badly and walked away.

Crouching low, she ran through the parking lot until she found his black Ford truck. She glanced at the street lamps and then the side of the apartment building. Hopefully there weren’t any security cameras.

She knelt beside the truck, trying in vain to pull her skirt back down over her thighs. Damn, she should’ve gone home and changed first. Brilliant idea, Abby. Go trash someone’s truck right after you get back from a night of dancing with the girls.

She pulled a towel from the pocket of her skirt and opened the bottle of brake fluid. After rolling the towel into a cylinder, she saturated the tip with the fluid from the bottle and then turned back to the truck.

“Revenge is a bitch, buddy. And so am I.”

Bringing the towel to the shiny paint on the obviously new vehicle, Abby started to write her message. After she finished, she stood and moved to the other side, dipping the towel again.

“What the hell are you doing?”

Abby’s head jerked up and she saw a man built like a linebacker running towards her. Oh crap!

She jumped to her feet, kicking over the bottle of brake fluid in the process. No time to grab the evidence, just get the hell out of here!

She ran hard, but her high heels and the thirty pounds she was trying to lose slowed her down. Her breath clogged tight in her throat and her pulse raced with fear.

She glanced back over her shoulder. Shit! He was following her. Who was he? He definitely wasn’t Kelly’s ex.

She veered to the left, crossing the street to a large empty field.

“Oh, shit,” she wheezed. “I shouldn’t have stopped doing those Tae Bo videos.”

Was he still behind her? She looked over her shoulder again. Damn! He was like six feet away! There was no way she could outrun him.

She dug her heels into the ground and spun around. “Stop! I’ve got pepper spra—ooph!”

He tackled her full out, throwing his arms around her and sending both of them flying to the grass. Lights flashed behind her closed eyes as she tried to get her breath back. He grabbed her wrists and forced them above her head as his muscular thighs straddled her ribcage.

She struggled to free herself, but he had a grip like steel. Finally, she opened her eyes and met the furious chocolate gaze of the man holding her down.

Oh, no. Not him! Her blood raced faster through her veins, but not because of the overexertion. Because of who was straddling her.

He looked just as sexy now as he had every night she’d seen him at The Lounge. Each time he’d asked her out, and each time it had just about killed her to turn him down. And the way he was looking at her now… Heat spread throughout her body, tightening her nipples and pooling moisture into her panties.

Please don’t let him recognize me. What would happen if he realized who she was? She wet her lips and swallowed hard.

He blinked and lowered his head closer to hers. His brows drew together. “Oh my God, it’s you.”

Shit!