21 Marine Salute: 21 Always a Marine Tales (149 page)

When months went by with no offers, she’d thought maybe she’d narrowly averted disaster. Then two days before Christmas, the mysterious Madame Eve sent her a request for confirmation that Brenda was free on New Year’s Eve.

“Oh, this is lovely.” The sudden change in Amelia’s strident tone dragged Brenda’s thoughts back to the room. She held up a body-hugging black cocktail dress with a white piping design that gave it a color block effect.  Of course, its dangerously daring neckline promised something else altogether.

“I can’t—” She’d been meaning to return it, having picked it out totally on impulse.

“Oh, you most certainly can.” And with those words, she advanced on Brenda and, hustled into her bathroom, and left her with the orders to change.

“I don’t have a bra I can wear with this,” she informed the closed door.

“Honey, gravity has always been kind to you and if that fits the way I think it will—well, you won’t need a bra and you’ll be grateful to be missing it later.” Amelia said the most outrageous things. Thank God she couldn’t see the heat flaming up Brenda’s cheeks.

“You’re an awful influence.” Still, she held the dress up to herself in the mirror. She didn’t have to imagine how she would look in it—one of the reasons she’d purchased it was the way it hugged her figure and turned her from a career loan officer into a femme fatale.

“Brenda.” Amelia’s voice softened and took on a serious, sober edge. “Put on the dress, let’s do your makeup and send you out tonight like the million-dollar woman you are. Do it because you deserve to feel beautiful and treat yourself that way. I don’t care if this guy turns out
not
to be the one, or the date flops, but you
need
this.”

Biting her lip and hating the indecision waffling through her, Brenda conceded without another word. It only took her a few moments to trade her robe for the dress. Not glancing at herself in the mirror, she held her breath and opened the door.

Amelia lit up. “Perfect. Let’s do your makeup—and what kind of panties are you wearing?”

Rueful, but amused all the same, Brenda hiked the skirt up and showed off the lace she’d already picked out before her courage faltered.

“Woo hoo!” Her friend tugged her out of the bathroom and sat her down at the table in front of the vanity in the bedroom. “You sit there and visualize how awesome you’re going to look and I’ll take care of the rest….”

Well, I can always cancel after I’m on the road. What could it hurt?

Enduring Amelia’s chatter and cosmetics turned out to be fun—and a half of glass of wine didn’t hurt. When Amelia had finished, she turned around and let Brenda see the results of her labor.

Brenda stared.

The woman looking back at her in the mirror couldn’t possibly be her. The cosmetic choices had been subtle and gave her plain-Jane features smoky eyes and glossy lips. Tipping her head from side to side, she tried to see what exactly Amelia had done—but she couldn’t discern the type of blush—only that her cheeks bones seemed higher. Diamond tear drop earrings added a hint of whimsy and a touch of magic to the silver streaks in her shoulder-length medium, mousy-brown hair

“A million bucks,” Amelia whispered next to her. “That’s who you are—a heart of gold, a priceless intelligence, and a million-dollar smile.”

At forty-nine years old, Brenda couldn’t believe the butterflies in her stomach. They could have competed with the flutters she’d had over prom—and this time her date wasn’t even picking her up. She was supposed to meet him.

“Amelia—” When her friend tried to cut her off, Brenda smiled and touched two fingers to her lips. “Shush. I just wanted to say thank you.”

Stealing a glance back at herself, she shook her head. She didn’t know who that woman in the mirror was supposed to be.
But I guess I’ll find out tonight.

All right, Mr. Tom Baxter. Here I come
.

The waitress brought him a cup of coffee and a wine list—fortunately, she also gave him her opinion when he’d studied it for fifteen minutes with a scowl. “I would recommend that we let the lady choose—unless you have a specific wine preference.”

No, he preferred vodka or whiskey when he drank, and that wasn’t often. The wines he’d had at some social functions didn’t really appeal except— “Do you have California reds on this list?” He scanned it.

“We have a delightful shiraz. It’s full-bodied with black raspberry and pomegranate, complemented by vanilla oak aromas.” She offered a hell of a lot more detail than he needed. A simple yes would have sufficed, but Tom nodded once.

“If she prefers red, let’s go with that one. And a Riesling for the white.” He wasn’t a man who hedged his bets, but he also wasn’t in the custom of meeting perfect strangers for dinner and sex—a man had to make allowances and be a little flexible.

“Excellent.” She took the wine list. “Would you like an appetizer with your coffee while you wait?”

“No, thank you.” He gave the cheerful little brunette a smile and settled back in his chair to wait. Nearly an hour earlier than the appointed time, he’d taken an opportunity to verify the hotel was exactly as advertised and the dining location private, while not being isolated. Luke’s recommendation paid off. The Turtledove Mansion may have been over a century old, boasting a colorful history as part of the elite social scene, but it was the attention to detail the current owners had exerted when they transformed the grand lady of a mansion into a luxury resort that made it the right choice.

Meticulously restored interiors, hand-carved mantles and surrounding details outlined the fireplaces, marble floors, and stained glass windows preserved the magnificence and transported visitors to a different world. Tom had walked the halls of Saddam’s palaces in Iraq, and The Turtledove Mansion easily competed with their luxury. Luke’s suggestion allowed him to provide a discreet location and an option of a room when he and his date, Brenda, were ready.

Their table sat in an alcove that also doubled as a private balcony and overlooked a lit garden. According to his hostess, he and his date would also be able to see the fireworks over Dallas later should they still be at their table at midnight. If not, then their reserved suite also had a balcony and a good vantage point. A marble-floored hallway led to their dining table and though the alcove was simply one of several such isolated settings, theirs possessed heavy cream curtains that could be closed to afford them further privacy.

Overall, it was an excellent choice on Luke’s part. Fortunately, years of not doing much with his salary meant Tom could also afford the evening comfortably. He finished the cup of coffee and checked his watch. Fifteen minutes to operation launch and he heard heels tapping on the marble floor caught his attention. Glancing sideways, he spotted a pair of elegant, long legs. Trailing his attention upward, he studied the woman approaching.

The body-hugging sheathe of a dress molded her curves, and what a shape she had…. Dark hair brushed her shoulders, the silvery streaks amidst the deep brown seemed almost artistic. Straightening, he frowned when she hesitated and checked her phone. The curl of anticipation in his gut flattened out.

It didn’t matter if the elegant woman searched for another date; he couldn’t take his attention off her. She all but glared at her phone. A heartbeat later, she rewarded his captivation when her exasperation transformed into sparkling laughter.

Squaring her shoulders, she lifted her chin and their gazes collided. Her smile faltered for a heartbeat, then warmed. At her look, he rose to his feet and enjoyed her long walk down the hall.

“Ms. Connors.” He extended his hand automatically, her smooth palm gliding against his.

A hint of shyness softened her expression, but she didn’t look away. “Mr. Baxter. Can I just say that you chose the loveliest spot for dinner?”

Boosted by the compliment and her gracious manner, he inclined his head. “Only if you’ll allow me to say that you outshine the location—and then some.” He’d never really been that good with flowery compliments, but a hint of color bloomed over her cheeks and he let out a breath. “Here….” To pull out her seat meant he had to let go of her hand.

She had slender fingers, beautiful and tapered, and they’d been silky-soft with the barest hint of callouses on her index fingers and thumbs. Callouses that meant she used tools, but probably didn’t build or work with anything. His brain’s need to catalog details had proven a godsend in the field, but he didn’t need to pick apart his date.

“Thank you,” Brenda murmured and slipped around him to take the chair he held out and he scooted it in just as she sat. From his vantage point, he had a direct view of her cleavage and the teasing hint of a dark mole on the curve of her right breast.

Clearing his throat, he moved back to his seat. “Of course.”

Any other conversation had to be tabled as the waitress chose that exact moment to reappear. Fighting his own instincts to take care of the orders, and because Luke advised him that his natural inclination to lead might be mistaken for controlling and bossiness, he let Ms. Connors handle the initial order.

The server took their drink orders. Brenda preferred red. Appetizers—bless her, she liked combo platters so they could have a selection of everything from pot stickers, to stuffed mushrooms, to crab puffs, and shrimp cocktail.

“Do you mind if we wait to order the meal?” Ms. Connors glanced at him and it took a moment of silence to realize both she, and the waitress awaited his response.

“If that’s what you want to do, Ms. Connors. I have no objections.” He nodded once and the waitress whisked away with quiet efficiency.

“Brenda,” she murmured, setting a tiny clutch purse down on the table before reaching for a glass of water. Her lips barely skimmed the rim of the glass and she took a quick drink. “Please, call me Brenda.”

“I’m Tom.” He had nothing else to add onto the topic, so an uncomfortable silence stretched across the table. Considering all the topics he could broach to continue a conversation with her, he hadn’t managed to identify much when their waitress returned with food and wine. She poured and that bought him a few moments, but all too soon she was gone again.

And they were alone.

“Tom?” Brenda shifted and he focused on her. Twice she went to bite at her lower lip, and twice she fought the urge because her teeth never quite caught the gloss-decorated skin. “Does this feel as awkward to you as it does to me?”

She’d thrown him a lifeline. “I want to say no, because I think it would be comforting if I could—but honestly, yes. It feels awkward, ma’am.” A hell of a lot more uncomfortable than he’d expected. At least when he met a woman in a bar, he could chat about something and get her talking. In his experience, women liked to talk. All he had to do was sit and listen, maybe even nod his head occasionally.

“Fantastic.” She picked up her glass and laughed, the musicality of it brushing across his senses in a gentle caress. “Because I have no idea what I’m doing, and I’ve never been very good at small talk or inane chatter.”

The corners of his mouth twitched. “I’m not a fan of inane chatter, either.”

After a hesitant look over her shoulder, Brenda edged her seat a little closer. “I’m going to be honest with you; I nearly didn’t show up tonight.”

“Why not?” He’d had some misgivings, but a commitment was a commitment. Having met Brenda, and all awkwardness aside, he was glad he’d made the choice to show up.

“I don’t date.” She grimaced. “Which is probably not what you want to hear.”

Not particularly, except…. “I don’t dislike hearing it. I don’t date much myself.”

“No interest?” Chin propped against her palm, she studied him with a level of intensity that told him he had the full weight of her focus. It wasn’t an altogether unpleasant situation.

“Inconvenience. Lack of opportunity. Admittedly, times when it was lack of interest. I’ve spent the last several years stationed abroad. It wasn’t conducive to a relationship or even seeking one.” Whether he’d been in Iraq, Afghanistan, Germany, Panama—the locale had been about work, not women. Taking a sip of wine, he glanced at her elegant fingers again, her ring finger in particular. Its smooth, even color, didn’t have a hint of a pale line. “What about you?”

Brenda took a deep breath and even longer drink of the wine. He recognized the boost of liquid courage for what it was. “I’m afraid if I tell you the answer to that, you’ll give me the patient look of sympathy,” she said in a rush. “Nearly everyone does and very few understand. Not entirely sure I’m ready for that.”

Since she’d opened the door to that dialogue, he considered her quietly. “Fair enough, but I have a beautiful, charming woman sharing my table this evening and I do want to know about her.” Surprisingly, he did. Her deep chocolate-brown eyes were an invitation to sweetness. More than that, he wanted to thrust his hands through her hair, test the weight of it and feel the soft texture. Judging by the tightness in his lower body, attraction was not an issue.

Trusting his field instincts, he picked up a piece of the shrimp cocktail. Dipping it into the cocktail sauce he held it out to her. She blinked at the action, but then the faint lines of tension in her expression eased and she leaned toward the bite. Hesitant and gentle, she let him offer it, but he held the tail to pull away the pit of shell as she drew the shellfish into her mouth. Her blissful expression was a shock to his system.

“I’m retiring,” he told her for no particular reason. “Two weeks from tomorrow marks the first day of the rest of my non-military life.” And he still had no idea what he planned to do to fill the empty time. Fish, maybe. Read a book. Maybe build a house—he’d always been good with his hands.

“But you’re so young.” She frowned, the note of disbelief in her voice as much a stroke to his ego as it was an invitation to tease.

“It’s not the wear and tear on the body, but the mileage under the hood.” To his immense delight, she laughed. No artifice existed in it; the full-throated sound came up from her belly. Her eyes lit up and her smile widened.