Her Forbidden Marine (Hearts Ablaze: Men in Uniform Book 2) (4 page)

Becky awoke Sunday morning to the scent of bacon and coffee drifting through the air.  She stretched and sleepily glanced around her childhood bedroom.  Her parents hadn’t changed anything since she’d left, which felt both comforting and little surreal.  I mean, just because she’d loved her fluffy pink pastel comforter and wrought iron twin bed as a teenager didn’t mean she still had the same tastes.  A poster of a boy band popular years ago still adorned the walls, for heaven’s sake.  Her older sister Melissa had moved out before her, so although Melissa’s room had been converted into a sensible home office, Becky’s remained frozen in time.  Maybe she should convince her parents to redecorate it, as long as she was all about moving forward with her life.  She could even help while she was here on winter break, she mused.

She stood and stretched, tucking those plans aside for another day, and grabbed a soft robe before padding out to the kitchen.  There was nothing like a lazy Sunday morning at home.  Her sister was planning to come over to join her and their parents for brunch, although from the sound of the voices coming from the kitchen, everyone was ready except for her.  Between her late night out with Jade on Friday and her family’s belated Christmas celebration yesterday, she hadn’t been getting much sleep.  It was kind of ironic since she was on her winter break and should be relaxing for a change, not still pulling late nights.  Her family had obviously taken pity on her and not woken her up this morning, even though breakfast was ready.

“Morning sleepyhead,” Melissa said as Becky walked into the kitchen.  Melissa was dressed to the nines in a killer suit that hugged her curvy figure, and her long red hair was smooth and sleek.  She wore towering black heels and looked more like she was headed to a business meeting than a family brunch.

Becky eyed her questioningly.  “Morning.  You’re in a good mood for this early hour.”

“You know it,” Melissa said.  “Amy texted me earlier and said that Michael’s new girlfriend dumped his sorry ass.”

“Serves him right,” their father muttered, flipping pancakes over a griddle.

Melissa’s ex-fiancé Michael had called off their wedding last fall.  Although Melissa had been inconsolable for a while, Becky was happy to see that she seemed to be moving on.  She was certainly doing better letting go than Becky had, but the situations were entirely different.  For a while there, Melissa had expected Michael to change his mind and come crawling back, but Becky secretly doubted that would ever happen.  Still, it was nice to see her sister radiantly happy for a change, even if she was simply gloating over her ex’s troubles.

“Oh really?” Becky asked, snagging a piece of bacon from a plate on the table.  “How does she know that?”

“Her boyfriend Jason works with him at Quantico.”

“Oh, right, of course.  I didn’t think of that.  I wonder if Matt knows him.”

“Probably,” Melissa said with a smirk.  “Those two jerks are probably best buddies now.”

Becky laughed uncomfortably.  “Come on, Brody wouldn’t have been friends with Matt if he was a jerk.  I mean, true, we didn’t exactly become best friends, but he’s not
that
bad.”

“Yeah, he’d probably never call off his own wedding.”

“You’re much better off without Michael,” their mother assured Melissa.  “It would have been much worse if you’d gone ahead with the wedding and broken up a year later.  Divorce is certainly more difficult than cancelling wedding plans.”

“I suppose,” Melissa said with a shrug.  “It serves him right that his new girlfriend broke up with him though.  Karma is a bitch.”

“Maybe she was, too,” Becky pointed out with a grin.

Melissa broke into fits of laughter, while her mother eyed both of them disapprovingly.  “What?”  Becky asked innocently.  “I’m just saying it’s a possibility.”

“Be nice, girls,” her mother commented.

“Is that why you’re all dressed up today?”  Becky asked.  “Celebrating the good news by looking hotter than sin?”

Melissa laughed.  “Open house at noon.  I’m hoping to impress my clients and make a sale.  So let’s get this brunch going, because I need to head out soon to put up some extra signs.  And maybe do a teensy-tiny bit of gloating,” she added with a wink.

***

After Melissa headed off to her open house, Becky wandered back to her bedroom.  She pulled some clothes from her suitcase, trying to decide what to wear.  She hadn’t unpacked yet because after the weekend at her parents’ house, she was planning to crash in Melissa’s guest room for the rest of her trip.  It was great being home and all, but she couldn’t imagine spending her entire break under the watchful eye of her parents.  They’d already seemed concerned when she arrived home so late Friday night (technically early Saturday morning), so she couldn’t imagine how an entire month home would go.  Not that she’d planned a bunch of late nights or anything, but living with Melissa would prove easier than staying with them.  And of course she’d be over to visit plenty.

Grabbing her phone from the charger, she realized that she had a missed call and message from a number she didn’t recognize. 
That’s odd,
she thought, checking her voicemail.  Most likely it was a wrong number, although it had a California area code, so maybe someone from school had needed to get a hold of her?  Hopefully everything was okay.  She clicked the button for speakerphone to listen to the message and took off her robe and pajamas, slipping into a bra and panties.  She jumped in shock as Matt’s deep voice came over the phone and grabbed her robe to cover herself, which was completely ridiculous, because he’d left her a message and couldn’t actually
see
her.

Shaking, she picked up her phone and took it off speaker, holding it up to her ear.

“Hi Becky, this is Matt,” his deep voice gruffly ground out.  “I thought maybe we could talk sometime this week.  I’m headed to Norfolk for a few days, but I’ll be back on Friday.”  He cleared his throat.  “Give me a call when you get a chance.  Let me know if Friday works for you.  Bye, Becky.”

The sound of his deep voice saying her name sent heat coiling through her, spiraling down from her stomach right to her very core. 
God, what was wrong with her?
  She took a deep breath, collapsing back onto her bed as she held her hands up to her flushed cheeks.  Something about the memory of Matt towering over her at her car last night, all muscle, all
male,
and the sound of his voice over the phone while she stood there in her bra and panties was sending her into some sort of crazed state.  She hadn’t felt attracted to anyone in a very long time, and now
Matt
of all people was the guy she couldn’t get out of her mind?  She was certain that last night he’d been about ten seconds away from kissing her.  She wondered what it would feel like to have his large hands running over her, cupping and caressing her breasts, trailing lower as they slid over her stomach and reached inside her panties.  Which were now completely soaked.  Her own hands had absently traced over her body as she imagined Matt touching her.  God, what would he think if he knew she was lying here in her underwear thinking about him?  How completely embarrassing.

Her own fingers dipped lower in her panties and slowly slipped through her wet folds, lightly caressing until they reached her throbbing clit.  She reached up with her other hand, cupping her breast, as she teased and toyed with herself.  A moment later she was gasping, gently swirling her fingers over her sensitive bud.  Matt would probably slip his thick fingers inside of her, thrusting them in and out.  No doubt he knew how to pleasure a woman.  He never seemed to be without female attention.  She increased the speed of her hand’s motions, bringing herself higher and higher.  She imagined Matt touching her, pleasuring her, his large body crawling atop her own, and she detonated, biting her lip to keep from screaming his name.

As she slowly floated back down to earth, a flush settling over her cheeks, she glanced around in a daze.  That had been the most intense orgasm she’d had in ages.  If just thinking about being with Matt had brought about that response in her, what would the real flesh and blood man do to her?  Not that they’d ever spend a night together.  He didn’t even like her.  But just imagining him pleasuring her might be enough to get her through a few cold nights.

Matt ducked into the coffee shop on Main Street later that evening.  Thank God he’d gotten his run in this morning, because it was sleeting out now.  There was no way he’d be out running in this mess, and treadmills weren’t how he liked to get his miles in.  He brushed snowy slush off his shoulders, watching the wet stuff fall to the floor.  No wonder the coffee shop had a gigantic rubber mat right inside their front door.  The weather around here in the winter was all too unpredictable.  It had been sunny and decent—if not cold—earlier in the day.  He walked up to the counter noticing that he was alone in the coffee shop, save for an older couple seated at a table, and ordered a large black coffee to-go.  His early morning runs didn’t usually bother him, but he hadn’t been sleeping well ever since Becky reappeared in his life Friday night.  No, scratch that—he’d slept like a baby once sleep had eventually overtaken him, but he’d tossed and turned for hours before falling asleep the past two nights, his thoughts on Becky.

Imagining her in his bed had nearly driven him crazy with desire last night.  How he wanted to lose himself in her for a little while, to let her light and warmth comfort him, make him feel alive.  How he wanted to enjoy the pleasure of her body and release the sexual tension that had been building inside of him since he’d bumped into her Friday night.  He’d held his thick erection in the shower this morning, his hand a poor substitute for the woman he desired.  After he’d come, he was very nearly hard all over again, wanting to have her.  And the worst of it?  These lust-driven thoughts racing through his mind weren’t anything new—he’d wanted her for years.  So he’d run every damn time he’d seen her.

The barista set his steaming cup of coffee down on the counter.  Hopefully he wouldn’t be paying for this later on, wide awake at 3:00 a.m., but he could barely prop his eyelids open now.  He still had to pack for his week in Norfolk and get some stuff done at his apartment.  It was no surprise that there were few people here tonight, though.  The bad weather had likely kept everyone at home with their families, enjoying a quiet Sunday dinner.  Everyone except…
Becky
, he thought, the vanilla scent of her announcing her arrival as the door to the coffee shop opened and a patron walked in.  He didn’t have to turn around to confirm that it was her, because every single hair on the back of his neck stood up.  His dick very nearly pointed to attention as well, and he ground his teeth, knowing the chances were slim-to-none that she’d turn around and leave.  She still hadn’t returned his call from this morning, but maybe she’d been waiting until tonight.  Wasn’t she staying with her parents?  That didn’t likely leave her with much privacy to make a phone call.

“Matt?” she asked, walking up to the counter.

“Hey Becky,” he said, glancing down at her curiously.  Was she blushing?  Maybe her cheeks were just flushed from the cold.  It was almost too much to hope that she’d someday want him the way he’d always wanted her.  For now he’d have to manage with just being her friend—and, quite possibly, more cold showers than anyone had ever taken.

“I didn’t expect to see you here.  What are the chances of running into each other twice in one weekend?”

“It’s a small town,” Matt said with a shrug.  The cashier totaled his order, and Matt grabbed his wallet from his back pocket.  “Can I buy you a drink?” he asked, glad to have something to distract him from watching the way her mouth moved.  The flush on her cheeks, the rosiness of her lips, the way her soft brown eyes were looking up at him—it was almost too tempting.  Spending too much time with her would be dangerous.  Which was exactly why he’d avoided her at all costs in the past.

“I’ll have a grande skim latte,” Becky said to the barista.  She placed her hand on Matt’s arm, sending heat coursing through him as he gazed down at her.  “But let me buy them.  You got a round of drinks on Friday.”

“No problem, I got it,” he said, his voice deep.

“Skim?” the barista asked, getting to work at the espresso machine.  Becky removed her hand from Matt’s arm, and he instantly missed the heat and warmth of her touch.

“Yes, thanks!” Becky called out to the barista.  “So, uh, thanks for the coffee,” she said, looking back up at Matt.

“My pleasure.  What are you doing out in this mess anyway?” he asked, gesturing toward the window.

“I’m on my way to Melissa’s.  I spent the weekend at my parents’, but the rest of the time I’ll be staying with her.”

Becky took her drink from the counter, and after Matt paid the cashier, they stood facing one another uncertainly.  “I called you this morning,” he said, his voice low.  Not that the cashier and barista really cared about their conversation, but he didn’t exactly want the entire world to hear his business.

“Right, I got your message.  Sorry I didn’t call you back yet.  Things were a little crazy today.”

“No problem,” he said, clearing his throat.  “Do you want to get a table?  I was planning to grab some carryout and head home, but as long as we’re both here….”

“Oh, uh, sure,” Becky said, sounding surprised.  “We seem to have our pick,” she joked as the elderly couple gathered their things to leave.

“Hopefully we didn’t scare them off.”

“You can be rather intimidating,” Becky said lightly as Matt eyed her curiously.  What did she mean by that?  Surely she wasn’t ever intimidated by him?

Becky walked over to a table by the window, and Matt pulled out the chair for her.  “Thanks,” she said softly as he sat down across from her.  She took off her coat, revealing a pretty lavender sweater.  It was casual but hugged her breasts perfectly, and he found it hard to tear his eyes away from her as she sipped her latte.  He took a sip of his own coffee, the hot liquid seeping down his throat.  It didn’t warm him nearly as much as the sight of her did.  Why his heart raced every time she was in the room was a damn mystery, but hell if he didn’t feel more alive than he had all year with her.

He shouldn’t have suggested they have coffee together right now, though.  He needed to talk to her about Brody, but he’d barely wrapped his head around what he should say.  Now here he was, on the spot, and he needed to just spit it out before he lost his nerve.  Before he lost
her.

She met his gaze, looking at him expectantly.

“I told Brody I’d look out for you,” he blurted out.

“What?”

“I told Brody—”

“No, I heard what you said,” she said, shaking her head.  “I mean, why would you do that?”

“He was my best friend.”

“I know, it’s just—we weren’t friends, Matt.  You and me.  I haven’t even seen you since the funeral.”

“I know,” he said, guilt rising within him.  “Brody and I—we talked a week before the ambush.  It was just one of those things—we never talked about dying, about what would happen if we were gone, until one day we did.  And he made me swear I’d look out for you if anything ever happened to him.”

Becky nodded slowly, licking her lips.  “Look, don’t beat yourself up, Matt.  You lost your best friend.  You were injured.  Of course you didn’t have time to worry about me, too.”

Matt looked at her in surprise.  If anything, he’d expected her to be angry with him.  To be mad that Brody was the one killed and to be upset that Matt hadn’t done the one thing he’d promised Brody—watch out for her.  It was almost like she understood what he’d gone through—which was impossible.  It would be a helluva lot easier if she hated him.  If she’d yell and scream, then he could stay away, telling himself he tried to be there for her.  But when she looked at him with such…understanding in her eyes, he almost couldn’t bear the thought of never seeing her again.  She almost made it seem like he could live with the guilt of losing his friend, because she’d lost him, too.  If she could forgive Matt, then shouldn’t he be able to forgive himself?

“Matt,” Becky said, and he looked back at her, realizing he’d been lost in thought.  “Did Brody say anything when he…was killed?  Before, I mean?”

Matt shook his head slowly.  “He was killed instantly, Becky.”

She nodded and swallowed, blinking away tears.  “I just wish I could’ve known what he was thinking, his final words.”

“None of us saw it coming,” Matt said in a low voice.  “Not a single one of us.”

“Me either,” Becky said sadly.  “He was supposed to come home a few months later, so I never even thought that he wouldn’t.  He was supposed to be done.”

“It fucking sucks—sorry,” Matt added hastily.  “Listen, if you want to still do something on Friday when I get back, I’m game.  Maybe we can grab dinner or a drink?  Talk a little more then?”

“Right, you’re going out of town.  Um, can I call you this week?”

“Sure,” Matt said, feeling slightly uncertain.  Was that a yes or a no?  Did women always have to be so complicated?

“I should get going,” Becky said, finishing her latte.  “You have your trip to get ready for, and Melissa’s cooking dinner tonight—heaven knows she’s a terrible cook, so we’ll probably end up ordering pizza.”

Matt laughed as Becky continued.  “But I don’t want to get there late.”

“Let me walk you to your car,” he said easily.  Man, if he didn’t feel a million times lighter after having talked to her tonight.  He didn’t realize the weight of everything he’d been carrying around for the past year.  It actually felt good to have someone to talk to.  It didn’t change the past—nothing would—but it almost felt like she’d taken some of the burden off of him.

Becky rose and put on her jacket, and Matt held the door for them as they left the coffee shop.  The sleet had changed over to freezing rain, and little pellets of ice bounced off the sidewalk and street.  “Damn, my windshield is frozen solid,” Becky said, looking in dismay at her car, which was completely covered in ice.

“Do you have an ice scraper?”

“I don’t know—it’s a rental.  Probably not, but maybe I can check in the trunk.”

“Oh, right.  I’ll grab mine and scrape off the windshield for you.”

“Matt, you don’t have to do that,” Becky protested.

“It’s no problem,” he said, holding his hand up to shield her face from the freezing rain as she looked up at him.  “Go turn on the defroster and get your car warmed up.  I’ll be right back.”  He walked down the block to his own car, grabbed the ice scraper, and was back at Becky’s car in no time.  Now he was even more glad he’d run into her because she would’ve been sitting here a while waiting for the ice to melt.  He set to work cleaning her windshield and felt more productive than he had all day.  Helping her out made him feel good, he realized, even if this was just a small favor.  He cared about her and hoped like hell that she wanted to see him again next weekend.