21 Marine Salute: 21 Always a Marine Tales (48 page)

“We didn’t always drive the exact same route, better to avoid insurgents if we’re unpredictable, but we went through often enough, I recognized the kid. About seven months ago—maybe eight—we’re going through one day and I don’t see the kids out there, they aren’t playing like normal. It’s all a little hinky, too quiet—and we go on alert. Out of the ordinary is a warning. Out of nowhere, I see the kid with the ball—he races out of one of the houses and puts his ball in the middle of the road and just sits on it. We have three choices, stop, go around, or back up.”

He tensed, living in that moment again, remembering the rawness of wonder as they stared at the kid. Sheri squeezed his hand. “What happened?”

“We went with our gut, the lead car moved around us and we slowed the convoy. I got out with four others and one of the guys who spoke the language, told him to move.” A.J. laughed a little. “This kid says no. Tells us that men came through the night before and made lots of noise up the road—they were digging and shifting and they were strangers. Not U.S., not friendly to the village. They shot one of the other kids’ fathers—that’s why the kids weren’t out playing. They were mourning, but this kid with the ball—he didn’t want us going up the road.”

“Oh my God. What did you do?”

“Called it in, backed off, and let the sweepers go through—they found five—maybe eight charges—all planted on our route. Kid saved our lives.” A.J. grinned up at her, her tension deepened and he wanted her to see this was the good kind of story—the one with a decent ending. “So I got that kid a new ball—and gave him and his family enough money to leave that dirty little village if they want, too.”

“Ohhh….” She dragged the word out and tears sparkled in her eyes. “Did they?”

“Don’t know. But they can. Kid didn’t have to help us—we’re just the guys driving past every few days or so. He could have gotten shot, blocking our truck that way—but he took a chance and did what he thought was right. Kids like him—and his family—they make it worth it.”

“You’re amazing.”

A little uncomfortable with the praise, he shrugged it off. “I’m just a Marine who did his job.”

“No one in my family served, I don’t think. I didn’t know my dad’s parents, but my mom’s dad had a club foot. He worked as a machinist, built equipment, provided supplies, and volunteered. My mom spent time studying to be a nurse, but then she got married and preferred popping out babies.” Sheri made a face, letting go of his hand to swipe at the trace of tears on her cheeks. He hadn’t meant for the story to make her sad.

“Nothing wrong with babies.” He couldn’t resist trailing a finger over her thigh. He liked the flush pinkening her cheeks.

“I know. I was just thinking that it’s a great legacy and I don’t have anything like that. Just plain, vanilla, stay-at-home folks.”

“Hey, we like the vanilla stay-at-home folks, they give us something to defend and better—someone to come home to.” He squeezed her leg.

“I can’t believe you’re real.” She dropped her gaze to the sandwich in her hands. “And that you’re here…in Freewill…with me.”

“Why?” He drew a pattern against her skin, just lazy circles, swirling over and over on her thigh.

“I told you I was divorced.” Her smile turned self-deprecating. “Well that marriage was definitely not one of my proudest moments. I married him while we were still in college, but we were both busy. I wanted to be an attorney, so did he. When I got accepted to Stanford Law, and he didn’t, I should have seen it coming—but I didn’t. We lived apart, visiting only on weekends all the way through law school. I hit the books, he hit the sheets.” She shifted, her expression darkening, and A.J. had the urge to go and punch the son of a bitch.

“It’s stupid, I mean all the signs were there, but I didn’t want to believe them. It’s easy to be blind to someone else’s faults—especially if admitting they have them makes you question your own judgment. Course, I couldn’t it ignore it when the paternity suit came in and he didn’t try to deny it.” Her mouth twisted. “What’s worse, not only did he have one woman suing him because she had his kid, but he’d knocked up two others. I think he had affairs
on
his affairs. I didn’t think I’d been so humiliated in my life—only I was wrong. Because one of the women he knocked up worked in my law office. She was one of the investigators I used and hung out with all the time.”

“I’m sorry. He sounds like a real jackass.” A.J. was glad she’d unloaded that waste of air.

“He was—hell, he probably still is. He didn’t actually want a divorce. He thought we had an ideal situation and actually looked surprised when I had him served. But as soon as the divorce was finalized, I just couldn’t stay there anymore. I needed a fresh start. A clean one, away from all the lies I told myself to get through the days.”

“And now you’re here, in Freewill.” He could wish her ex hadn’t done that to her, but he couldn’t fault the result. If she hadn’t come to his Wyoming town, he might not have met the sexiest librarian he’d ever seen.

And that would have been a crying shame.

“Yep, now I’m here with you…on a one-night stand.” Her smile chased away the shadows lingering in her eyes. “And I have to ask, maybe it’s not PC, but why did you sign up? I mean—you’re gorgeous, sweet, and a fabulous kisser. Why would you need a service to find a woman?”

“All the single guys in my unit signed up. Not everyone made the transition home easily and they had a hard time reconnecting with their civilian life. So, the captain encouraged us all to commit to a one-night stand. It helped out our buddies who really needed the assistance to just go for it. I kind of forgot that I did it.” His turn for confession. “It’s why the Captain had to nudge me.”

“Oops.”

“Yeah. Oops. He probably won’t let me live that one down, but it’s all right. I deserved it.” He didn’t mind friendly ribbing and he owed the man a case of beer for taking the time to send him that note. “But I planned to ask you out after church on Sunday anyway.”

“Oh?” She lifted her brows and to his immense pleasure, her face pinkened again.

“Hmm-hmm.” He caressed the curve of her knee. “I kept seeing you around town every time I had to run in for supplies. So I promised myself after I finished fixing the barn and the paddock I needed for training, I’d see about buying you some fried chicken and a cold beer. So tell me, Miss Sheri, if I came up to you after church on Sunday and invited you out for some dinner and a beer, what would you say?”

“I don’t know. Why don’t you ask me on Sunday, and find out?”

A.J. grinned and swept the food aside to roll her onto her back; he nuzzled her cheek. Her eyes widened, and he delighted in her innocent wonder. “I think I’ll have to do that, but right now, I want dessert….”

With her sigh echoing in his ears, he kissed a path down her breasts, to her belly, and her thighs spread obediently.

Damn, it’s good to be home
….

A 1Night Stand Story

Always a Marine - Book 8

By

Heather Long

Rain poured in great sheets as thunder rumbled and the occasional flash of lightning burnt his retinas. Rowdy checked the GPS for the third time when he swung into the carport outside the hotel. The Castillo Washington was a five-star luxury hotel parked squarely in downtown D.C. Fifteen minutes behind schedule; he was still thirty minutes early for his date. He preferred early to late. Handing his keys to the valet along with a tip, he took the claim ticket.

The interior of the hotel appeared as luxurious as all the advertisements boasted. Parquet floors, vaulted ceilings, crystal chandeliers, and a dozen intimately arranged seating areas. Shops lined one wall, offering designer clothes, shoes, purses, and souvenirs for hotel guests. Signs pointed in the direction of the front desk and the hotel’s various lounges.

Rowdy bypassed all of them and took a seat on a comfortable sofa outside the dark, moody
Aces
. It was after happy hour, but the business crowd inside remained thick.

A waitress scooted over to him. “What can I get for you?”

He blew out a breath. He’d debated this on the drive over. He enjoyed a good glass of wine, having grown up drinking his family’s personal vintage. But years in the Corps turned him on to various types of beer—and he enjoyed those even more. “Sam Adams. Bottle.” He added the last before she asked.

“Of course.” She set a napkin down on the table next to him and strode off, her hips swaying despite the briskness of her pace. Unbuttoning his jacket, he pulled out his phone, thumbing it over to the email box. He checked his watch and nodded. Still early, which gave him time to scan the crowd and observe his date as she arrived.

The waitress returned with his beer, and he gave her a credit card to open a tab. He was on his second swallow when a woman in a dark blue dress sashayed in. She surveyed the lobby, and the tables around him. For the briefest of moments, their gazes collided, but she moved on and waved at someone behind him. He washed back his amusement with another drink.

A trickle of female arrivals streamed past—they glanced at him or gave him a flirtatious smile but continued on to other destinations and plans. At five minutes past the appointed date time, annoyance crept in. Fifteen minutes passed and annoyance settled in his gut along with his beer.

He checked his phone for other messages—still nothing. The tables around him filled. But he wasn’t the only one sitting alone. Two tables over, a devastating redhead with relaxed posture studied the crowd. Dressed in a pair of jeans, suit jacket, and white button down shirt, she faded into the setting—which made no damn sense. She was one hell of a looker. Rowdy’s eyes narrowed—she wasn’t watching the crowd.

She stared at him.

The corners of her mouth curved into a mysterious smile and she saluted him with her beer.

He nodded and glanced down at his phone when it vibrated.

The mail flag signaled and he thumbed it open.

Feel free to join me
.

His eyebrows climbed. It was a forwarded message—from the 1Night Stand service.

Slanting another look at the redhead, he lifted his eyebrows and she grinned. Intrigued, he grabbed his bottle and walked over to the sofa she claimed. “Good evening.”

“Good evening.” Amusement twisted between the words. She stood and stretched out her hand. “And let me begin this introduction with an apology…Kim Wakefield.”

“Hello, Kim Wakefield. Rowdy Easton.”

Her firm grip was warm, soft, and perfunctory. A lot like the woman herself. Despite her attempt to cover up her femininity, she only emphasized it. Of course, maybe she hadn’t attempted to disguise it. Women didn’t have to wear dresses on dates.

“You look a little confused.” She held his hand longer than was necessary, but he didn’t mind.

“Curious. Not confused.”

She released her grip and disappointment surged through him. A second curiosity, but he set it aside for the time being. She motioned to the sofa next to her, and he waited for her to sit before taking the center cushion. It put him right in her space—and what an alluring space it was.

“What’s got you curious?” She leaned back, crossing one leg over the other. She wore boots, laced tight, low heeled, and sensible. He knew expensive shoes and he knew combat boots—hers looked like a combination of the two.

“You.” He studied her face. Surprisingly, she didn’t have green eyes so traditionally associated with red hair. Instead, her eyes were almost the color of amber. Under the low overhead lighting, they gleamed like polished gemstones.

“Me?” She lifted her brows.

“Oh, yeah. You.” The waitress paused next to them and he held up two fingers. “Another Sam Adams and whatever the lady is having.”

“Corona Extra, two limes please,” Kim supplied and gave an amused snort after the waitress walked away. “I am not her favorite person.”

“Why is that?”
Did she know the waitress personally
? He glanced briefly in the other woman’s direction.

“She stared at you the whole time and you didn’t look away from me. Thank you, by the way. It’s a very nice compliment.” Kim moved with the bare minimum of excess. Her relaxed expression couldn’t hide the sharp assessment in her eyes or the air of expectancy wrapped around her.

“You’re welcome.” He linked his fingers together. The date arrangements they’d agreed on said drinks first. They could take their conversation to their reserved room after. Cocktails and conversation seemed a good way to kick off the night. So where did the sudden impatience curling through his gut come from?

“You still look…what was the word you used? Curious?” The low, smoky quality to her voice teased the hell out of him. But then so did her mysterious amusement.

“Definitely curious.” The waitress returned with their fresh beer bottles, served them, and he waited for her to leave before continuing. “Why does a woman like you need a service like this?”