A wicked grin erupted on my face. “Yes.”

“That doesn’t seem…practical.”

I locked eyes with her, letting all my carefully banked desire for her pour out in a glance as I drew us into the shadows, out of sight. “Practical? Since when does sex have to be practical? Just think, Paisley. Your wet, naked body pressed between me and the tile, which you like, because it’s cold and your body is on fire. Me taking your weight in my arms so I can fit you to just the right angle where I can lick the water off your—”

She covered my mouth with her hand. “I understand.” Her cheeks flamed, and her eyes darkened as she moved her fingers away from my lips. “You make waiting really hard, Jagger.”

“If you think that’s hard…”

“Seriously!” she squeaked.

“Well, it’s my job.” I smiled, trying to calm my body from the very vivid fantasy I’d just painted. “You’re supposed to play the genteel southern lady and ward off my advances.”

She stretched on her tiptoes and put her lips to my neck, just above my collar. “I think I like your job better.” I groaned, and she giggled. “Let’s get inside.”

We mixed in with the crowd and crossed the threshold. Major Davidson greeted us in the entry hall. “Bateman?” His eyes darted to Paisley and widened when he noticed our joined hands. “Paisley? Well, this is going to be an interesting evening.” He laughed. “You two kids enjoy yourselves.”

That did not make me feel better.

“Lee! You made it!” A woman with pale blond hair, about Paisley’s size, tugged her hand, pulling her to the side of the room. One look at her heart-shaped face and I knew she was Paisley’s mom.

“Yes, Mama. I promised I would.”

“Well, after that stunt you pulled at Christmas, I wasn’t sure we could depend on you.” The woman’s eyes had switched from kind-mother vibe to sharp in two seconds.

“I went to where I was wanted,” Paisley answered, her voice still demure. She moved closer to me, and it didn’t escape Mrs. Donovan’s notice.

Her narrowed eyes took in every detail of my attire, and I sent a quick prayer of thanks to my mother, who’d taught me the difference between a three- and four-button blazer. There wasn’t a single stitch out of place that she could pick on. Finally she met my eyes with an icy glare. “And you would be?”

“Mrs. Donovan?” a uniformed major called from her side. General’s aide, if I had to guess.

Her face transformed instantly, the lines softening into a smile. “Major Beard, is he ready for us?”

The way she shifted so quickly between her private face and public one sent chills down my spine. Paisley’s smile was close-lipped, and her eyes darted to mine, silently asking for understanding.

What wasn’t to understand? I’d grown up just like this. Only in a bigger house with bigger sharks.

I smiled. “Don’t worry.”

“Yes, ma’am, he’s ready for you,” Major Beard replied. “If you’ll come with me?” He gestured with his hand toward the spiral staircase.

“Lee-Lee, you look beautiful this evening.” Carter’s voice shredded my already frayed nerves. He leaned forward, brushing his lips across her cheek, and my fist clenched. Calm the fuck down, I warned my inner Hulk. I didn’t need to explode into a giant rage monster at the moment.

“Thanks, Will. It’s good to see you,” she answered, still holding my hand.

“Lee,” Mrs. Donovan ordered, her sweet voice at odds with the look she cast our way. “I’m sorry, but this is family only,” she said to me.

“No, ma’am, I understand.” I brought Paisley’s knuckles to my lips and brushed a soft kiss across them. “I’ll be right here.”

“Will?” Mrs. Donovan motioned him toward the stairs.

Well, if that didn’t take tonight from awkward to flat-out hostile.

“Mama—” Paisley warned.

Carter shook his head. “Not this year, ma’am.”

Mrs. Donovan smiled genuinely at Carter and said, “Well, next year,” with a pointed look in my direction. Nice.

Paisley rose and brushed a kiss across my lips. It wasn’t passionate, or even sexy, but the symbolic claim that she meant it to be. It struck home, if the melodramatic sigh from her mother was any indication. I stroked my thumb across her cheekbone. “Go.”

She took a deep breath and then followed where her mother led, her heels giving her a couple inches over her.

“Didn’t think I’d see you here.” Carter stood next to me. “This isn’t exactly your scene.”

I bit back the assholish retort that immediately came to mind. “Paisley asked.” I walked the very thin line we’d drawn with each other.

General Donovan waited at the top of the stairs as the ladies walked up. The entry hall was now overcrowded—those who couldn’t fit watched from the living room. Mrs. Donovan wound her arm around her husband, and he held out his other for Paisley, lightly kissing her forehead. She hugged him, a look of relief on her face.

Huh. I’d thought he was a raging asshole, but it looked like he was the one Paisley gravitated toward.

“She might want you, but I still think you’re nowhere good enough for her,” Carter said.

“That makes two of us.”

“Welcome!” General Donovan silenced the crowd. “I’m old army, raised by a father who was even older army. On New Year’s Day, tradition stated that every officer called upon the general’s house to bid him happy New Year. All day that damned doorbell would ring, and being the oldest son, well, I had to answer it every time.” The crowd murmured a laugh. “We’ve lost a lot of traditions as our army has modernized, if you will, but accepting callers on New Year’s Day has always been one tradition that my wife and I like to keep alive. Instead of asking you all to ring our doorbell all day long tomorrow, we figured we’d just get it out of the way by hosting you tonight.