21 Marine Salute: 21 Always a Marine Tales (110 page)

“Okay, I deserved that.” Logan accepted the insult easily. “Doesn’t change the fact that you don’t know who you’re hooking up with, and you don’t know what could go wrong. Not saying anything will, but if it does—
call
us.”

She counted backward from ten in her head. “Logan, I
appreciate
your concern. Really, I do. But this isn’t about you, or danger, or any of the myriad of things that could go wrong on a regular date. One of the reasons I signed up is because it’s so safe, and every one of you told me that. Jazz gave it her endorsement and so did Lauren and Rebecca. So, I’m going to go get ready for my night out, and you’re going to go to work.”

“And you’ll call us if you need us,” Logan repeated with a stubborn set to his jaw.

Throwing her hands up in the air, Kara sighed. “Fine.
If
I need help, I
will
call. If you don’t hear from me.…”

“I’ll assume you’re having a good time and shut up.” Logan inclined his head, acquiescing the argument.

“Excellent.” Kara clapped her hands and leaned up to press an impulsive kiss to his unscarred cheek. “Thank you for caring.”

“See you tomorrow.”

“Thursday!” She called over her shoulder and winked. “I took tomorrow off.” If all went as planned, she would spend the whole night getting laid, and would need to catch up on her sleep tomorrow.

She jogged to her car in the parking lot. It was hotter than hell in Texas, but she didn’t care. The humidity couldn’t compare to her home state. Here she baked. There she boiled. She rather preferred the former to the latter.

She could have foregone the short drive to her apartment, left her car in the center parking lot and jogged down the trail to her place if she didn’t plan on leaving immediately. But what was the point of showering, adding cosmetics and dressing in a body-hugging, strapless red dress if she planned to melt it all off on the walk back to her car?

And avoiding Logan’s fraternal advice has its perks, too
. Most of the time she appreciated his friendly interest. He reminded her of Keith—gruff and acerbic, but in a more direct manner. A raw grief burned in the back of her throat and she swallowed it. Closing her eyes, she forced deep, cleansing breaths.

Thankfully, the shower helped, and so did taking the time on her hair and picking out her lingerie—or lack of it since the dress fit too snug for even her thinnest of bras. She almost had her tears under control by the time she finished getting ready. Checking her makeup in the mirror, she used a tissue to blot up some of the eyeliner her tears smudged.

“Okay, big brother.” She glanced upward. “I love you and I miss you, but tonight is about me and not you. I’m going to put all of this away. No peeking, or haunting, or making me feel bad, okay?” She didn’t get an answer, nor did she expect one. Talking to Keith had become a coping mechanism, one the psychologist she’d seen for the year after her brother’s death had recommended.

Giving her appearance a critical eye, she nodded. Not quite the dynamite she could have pulled off in college, but damn if she didn’t look fine. Smoothing a hand over the fabric of her dress, she grinned. She was used to wearing sweats, T-shirts, shorts—comfortable stretchwear she could work out with her patients in—not killer sheaths that hugged every curve and reminded her she was a woman. Grabbing her purse and a silk wrap in case the club turned chilly, she checked the clock.

Plenty of time to get to the Sybarite Club for happy hour
. Nerves fluttered in her stomach.
I can do this, no chickening out at the eleventh hour. I saved up for six months to take this leap. It’s time to let go of the past and all the what-could-have-beens. He’s not ever going to be interested in me, no matter what I do
. She refused to name the ‘he.’
Not tonight. Tonight is about me, my future, and my wants
. That would be her mantra.

Checking her hair once more, she grabbed her keys and strode for the door. No second thoughts. No backing out. Madame Eve promised her a night to remember, and she couldn’t wait to get started.

***

Derek Green couldn’t believe he sat inside the exclusive club. The Sybarite offered a pleasurable experience for the senses from fine dining, to excellent liquors, to live performances in a dynamic setting. That evening’s menu included all three and a gorgeous woman he could drown all his lust with while he took the edge off. A win-win-win.

I shouldn’t have taken the job at Mike’s Place
. He knew she worked there, knew everything about the job. How could he not? He didn’t have to accept the position when Captain Dexter offered. It hadn’t been his first—or last—offer, for that matter. Computers and asset management were his specialty, and retired military received a bump in interest from any number of employers.

None of his other options had Kara.
Nope. Stop thinking about her that way
. His resolution never lasted longer than a few seconds. His affection for Keith’s gorgeous baby sister sank deep in his soul and he’d never get her out. The best he could hope for was a distraction.

And sitting here thinking about her when you’re waiting for a date is really not how to distract yourself
. Rolling his neck from side to side, Derek tried to ease the tension knotting his shoulders. The itch to call her and let her know he’d moved to town wouldn’t go away. He shut off his phone and stuffed it in his back pocket, but awareness hummed in his blood.

Raising his hand, he caught the waitress’ attention. “Jack and Coke, please.” He’d planned to stick to beer, but if the next few months meant living right up the way from Kara and maintaining his look-but-don’t-touch policy, he’d need a little liquid courage to get through the night.

Just sign up, it’s pretty straightforward, and we’ve had some amazing experiences come out of the service. I wouldn’t recommend it if I didn’t believe in it
. The advice came from three different Marines—Brody recommended it before he left, Damon suggested it on the phone, and Luke only added to the discussion when Derek asked him about Madame Evangeline’s 1Night Stand.

He needed to get it together. The night needed to help him purge his demons and have a good time. The waitress delivered his drink, and he swirled the ice around in the glass, watering down the alcohol. An icy hot shiver skated over his skin. Twisting in the seat, he looked toward the entrance in time to see her walk in the door. Every cell in his body leaned in her direction, drawn by the inexorable force of nature named Kara Childs. He’d know her anywhere.

Steel bands squeezed his chest, compressed his lungs, and bruised his heart. She was gorgeous. A red dress hugged her luscious curves, too much so. His dick stood at attention without a second thought for courtesy, commitment, or promises made. And damn if she didn’t make an entrance, her arrival capturing more than a few looks of interest from single men at the bar and a few not-so-single men at tables.

Rising, he crossed the room to her. The moment her gaze collided with his, heat flashed through him. She had no business being out in a dress like that, much less in a club like this.

“What are you doing here?”

“I planned on asking you the same question.” He caught her arm and turned her around, not quite hurrying her back up the red-carpeted steps toward the front door. “And why aren’t you wearing some damn clothes?”

Kara stopped, and unless he planned on picking her up or knocking her over, he had to stop, too. He had to admit the former idea held a certain appeal.

“Let go, Derek.”

“You shouldn’t be here.” He kept his voice low. The scent of plum and flowery blossoms radiating from her skin smelled like coming home.

“Really?” The cold spray of her gaze flicked over him and cooled his ardor. “I live here. What’s your excuse?”

“I’m moving here—moved here.” Yeah, not how he planned to drop that particular bomb. And from her shocked expression, not one she expected either. “I planned to call you.” It was a little too late to apologize. “After I settled in.”

Her chest rose with a swift inhale, and his gaze dropped to the warm, dusky curves of her breasts visible above the strapless line of her dress. That dress suited her. The red set off the rich chocolate of her skin—displaying her like a goddess carved from pure ebony. His cock jerked in his pants, and he was grateful for the lower illumination near the door.

“Well, thanks for the notice.” She made a pretense of ignoring him and surveyed the room. “If you’ll excuse me, I have a date.”

Violence rocketed through him. “With who?” He hadn’t realized he gritted his teeth until he tried to speak.

“With a gentleman named none-of-your-damn-business.” She tugged her arm out of his grasp.

Flushing hot and cold then hot again, he moved to stand next to her and studied the room. Who the hell was she meeting in a place like this? How did she even know the Sybarite Club existed? Keith’s baby sister did not belong in a club like this. “Who are you here to see, Kara?” He bent his head, his lips damn near brushing the warm curve of her ear, half tempting him to kiss it while he was there. Locking down that urge, he ordered his body to knock it off.

She was—and had always been—way out of bounds.

With almost painful slowness, she turned her head to meet his gaze. The tips of their noses brushed, and the electricity of that brief contact zinged through him.
Son of a bitch, I have it bad for the one woman I can never touch no matter how fucking beautiful she is
. Keith Childs’ baby sister was more than off-limits, she sat on a throne at the top of the mountain. Derek had known her since she was a toddler. He and Keith became fast friends in kindergarten and rode the path of growing up together, even enlisting on the same day. Sometime between their childhood and his boot camp graduation, she’d grown into an awkward teen with a sweet smile and gorgeous chocolate-brown eyes.

He’d always known about her crush, and as flattering as it may have seemed, he was way too old her for her—then.

On leave during her high school graduation, he came face to face with the sexiest woman he’d ever seen, and it took him time to reconcile that woman with the awkward little sister. Twice she walked in on him coming out of the shower at her parents’ house, and twice he’d walked away from the intoxicating temptation of her.

But he kept his distance and Keith, who’d noticed where his gaze strayed, thanked him for it.

The next time Derek saw Kara had been at her brother’s funeral. She cried on his shoulder and he held her all night on the sofa of her parent’s house, and then he’d gotten the hell out of there before he broke the promise he made to Keith. Looking after his friend’s little sister did not mean seducing her. He and Kara kept in touch, but he kept the distance lengthy—all the better to watch out for her rather than take advantage.

“Earth to Derek, come in Derek.” She snapped her fingers in front of his face and he blinked.

“What?”

“I need to see if my date is here.” With a half-sweet smile, she patted his arm. “Call me next week or something, maybe we can have lunch.”

And then she walked away.

Derek slid his hands into his pockets to keep from dragging her back. The dress turned out to be worse from the back. It hugged her hips and shaped her ass so perfectly, he wanted to slide his hands over it and squeeze as he pushed her against a wall and slid in between her dark thighs—

Fuck
. His cock was downright painful. His date needed to show up so he could tell her it wouldn’t work out and get the fuck out of there before he killed whatever schmuck Kara had come to see.

He could take a hell of a lot, but he didn’t want to watch her with another man.

Kara spoke to the hostess and the woman smiled and led the way through the club toward the other side—and Derek’s table.

His gut plummeted.

Kara’s my date
.

Life was not fair.

Her date must have been in the restroom. Kara thanked the waitress who seated her and ordered a glass of red wine. Avoiding looking toward the door didn’t erase Derek’s presence.
Of all the gin joints in all the world, why did I have to walk into his…tonight?
Seeing him again delivered a kidney punch she hadn’t expected. Tonight was about putting him out of her head, not dragging him back into her life.

Fighting irritation, she glanced at Derek. He remained where she’d left him, hands in his pockets, staring laser beams at her from across the room.
What the hell is his problem?
Tingles of awareness, which zinged through her every time they were in the same room, brought the same level of uncomfortable familiarity they always did. Shrugging off the unease coiling in her belly, she tried to focus on staying upbeat for her ‘date.’

The presence of the drink and the jacket on the chair opposite hers told her the one-night stand was already in the lounge somewhere. But she’d been at the table almost five minutes and even had her glass of red wine to sip.
Maybe he took one look at me and decided against the date?
Disappointment curved beneath the uneasiness.

Dating had never been her favorite activity. Not when the guy she wanted refused to acknowledge her existence and the one time, the single time he kissed her, he’d set her blood on fire with a fever she still couldn’t shake. Another sidelong look at the door and she found Derek gone. Relief warred with a fresh wave of disappointment until she saw him walking toward her.

Right
toward her.

Rising, she pointed a finger at him. “No. You go find your date, your table, your
whatever
, and leave me in peace.” The last thing she needed on her date was lust-filled thoughts about Derek, a deliciously decadent Twinkie with his complicated history and murky emotional center. She’d planned for this night for way too long.

Instead of obeying her, he paused and smiled. “Who says I’m not on the way to my table right now?”