Off Base (2 page)

Listen to yourself. What do you know about women?

For the last year, he’d been locked inside a command center full of high-ranking officers, field scientists, journalists. Before that? Well, he’d been waiting. Would
still
be waiting, if there was anything left to wait for back home in Georgia.

They reached the parking lot and Beck immediately moved behind Kenna, guiding her without touching through the moving sea of cars. From this position, he could pull her back if a vehicle moved too fast. Touching would be required for that, though, so he prayed it wasn’t necessary. Or was he praying for the exact opposite?
Don’t look at her backside.

She threw a look at him over her shoulder, green eyes glowing just above the rim of her sunglasses. “You in a rush to be somewhere, Major?”

Home. So I can get rid of this pain in my stomach
. This wasn’t his home, though. It was only temporary.

“No rush.” He followed her lead down the last row of cars, watching as she sent the sign bearing his name fluttering into a metal garbage can. “I figure you have somewhere you’d rather be than chauffeuring me around base.”

Kenna stopped at the trunk of a blue Challenger—a beaut, to be sure—and turned to face him. “I’m a firm believer that Sundays should be spent in bed. Don’t you agree?”

Beck lassoed the groan trying to break free from his throat, yanking it back. The thought of her tossing around in tangled sheets...

Enough. This girl was doing him a kindness, and his mind could only muster inappropriate thoughts. Someone who looked, moved and spoke like her was probably on the receiving end of such thoughts on a regular basis. He wouldn’t repeat the pattern, although intuition told Beck she wanted him to. “I tend to agree, Kenna.” He nodded once. “You should always take the opportunity to catch up on sleep. Sleep is nature’s reset button.”

A laugh bubbled from her lips. “You aren’t going to fit in here, True Blue.”

The husky endearment made the wrench below his belt tighten. “It’s a good thing I don’t intend to be here long then.”

For some reason, his response seemed to remind her of something. She stepped toward the car, digging in her front pocket to pull out a jingling set of car keys. The action tugged the denim low—
way
too low—giving him a glimpse at the barbed wire tattoo circling her hips and the edge of sheer black panties. Beck’s mouth went dry as the desert he’d returned from. And just when he thought it couldn’t get any worse, she popped the trunk and lifted it. Her stomach muscles stretched, the shirt—was it even a shirt?—gliding up her taut stomach and tightening over her high breasts.

Beck swung the bag off his shoulder and held it over his lap before she could witness his reaction to her body. His hard-on was becoming a serious problem. It wouldn’t go away as long as Kenna was in the vicinity, and they still had the car ride to get through.

“Throw your bag in the trunk.”

“No, thanks. I think I’ll hang on to it.”

She lifted an eyebrow. “The passenger side of my car will barely fit you, let alone all your earthly possessions.”

“If you don’t mind, I’ll try and make do.”

With a shrug, she slammed the trunk and headed for the driver’s side door. Letting loose a relieved breath, he made his way to the opposite side. Keeping the bag in place with one arm, he opened the passenger door and immediately admitted she’d been right. Barely enough room for him and his bag. Not to mention the vicious wood he was sporting. Seeing no other choice, he dropped down into the seat, wedging the canvas bag between his thighs, the leather upholstery groaning beneath him as he did so.

He looked over at Kenna to find her battling a smile. “Seatbelt.”

“Heck.”

With considerable effort, he managed to wrap the strap around himself and the bag as Kenna watched with open amusement from the driver’s side. Once the belt clicked into place, she threw her right arm over his seat and started to back out of the parking spot. Beck caught a glimpse of her straining breasts and decided it best to stare up at the ceiling, but not before his erection grew swollen enough to steal oxygen from his lungs.

They exited the parking lot and turned onto the road. “So,” she said. “What did you miss most while you were gone, Major?”

Beck answered honestly, even though concentration was difficult. “My sister; she’s a nurse here on base. My dog, Moses. Buttered popcorn from the movie theater. My mother down in Georgia. Not in that exact order, mind you. My mother rates higher than popcorn.”

“I hope so.” She adjusted the air conditioner, not that he could feel it as his bag blocked the vent. Too bad, he could use cooling down. “You’re headed back to Georgia?”

“Yes, ma’am.
Kenna
,” he corrected himself. “Peach farming.”

“Huh-what?”

He smiled at her confused expression, relieved she’d given him something to think about besides his wayward anatomy. “My family has been in the peach farming business for six generations. I’ll be taking over operations from my grandfather. Soon as I make my way down south.”

“Peaches,” she murmured. “Peaches, a dog, mama and popcorn. If you tell me you don’t have a girl waiting for you back in Georgia, Major, I won’t believe you.”

His neck grew hot, an uncomfortable pit yawning wide in his stomach. “There’s no girl.” That wasn’t entirely true. There
had
been a girl at one time, but there wasn’t any longer. And while he didn’t feel the same regret he once had over it—heck, remembering her face got harder over time—discussing it in front of Kenna would only lead to pity. Embarrassment. Two things he didn’t want to feel from anyone, let alone this gorgeous, confident girl who’d probably never faced a single challenge in the romance department.

Beck could see her need to press battling with her nonchalance. “You sure about that?”

He started to say
yes, he was sure
, but he stopped himself. Since that day a year ago when he’d received the Dear John letter from back home, he’d unburdened himself to no one. Today marked a fresh start, away from the pressures he’d faced overseas and the tragedy he’d been living with on his conscience. Life after his service. While he might have mentally moved on in most aspects, the failure still sat heavily on his shoulders and he wanted to be free of it. Once Kenna dropped him off, she’d probably speed away, his name flying out the window of her muscle car along with his sob story. He eyed her. What was the worst that could happen? She pretended to be sympathetic and race back to her boyfriend?

Sweet Jesus, he didn’t like the idea of her crawling back into those sheets with a boyfriend.

The unexpected flare of jealousy propelled the truth out of him. “Mary was my high school girlfriend. We’d been going together since freshman year, followed each other to the University of North Georgia. Everything was fine, until I took the ASVAB test.” He still recalled being summoned out of class to discuss his unusually high results on the military aptitude test with a recruiter. “After that, everything happened so fast. I was shipped out before the ink dried.”

“I know the test.” She measured him with a look. “That explains how you’ve been promoted to major so young.”

“All due respect, Kenna, twenty-six isn’t young when you’ve been where I have.” He barely managed to keep his gaze from dropping to her parted thighs on the seat. “Speaking of, how old are you?”

Her grin was pure mischief. “Twenty-two.” Oh no. This girl was too young to be lusting after, wasn’t she? As if she could sense the direction of his thoughts, she hauled him back to the present. “Tell me about Mary.”

He swallowed, unable to believe he was sharing the story out loud. “Mary was the pastor’s daughter in our town. We were…she was…waiting. For me.” He waved a hand. “And then she didn’t.”

Kenna pursed her lips. “Like, waiting until you came home to get married?”

Had he turned green? He felt green. “Yes, for marriage and…waiting in general. For other things. We both were.”

He saw the moment everything clicked into place. Her eyes widened. Yup. She was transporting a virgin. A cuckolded one at that. “Oh. Oh, wow.” She was silent a full minute. “So Mary—oh God, the
Virgin Mary
—was waiting for you to come home, so she could give you her…flower…but someone else plucked it. Do I follow?”

“That’s about right.” He could see the barracks in the distance, telling him the ride was almost over. Half of him was relieved, the other half oddly nervous about her leaving.

“When did you find out Mary had done that to you?”

“She sent the letter about a year ago, although it might have been going on longer. I don’t know.”

Kenna pursed her lips. “Most men wouldn’t have wasted any time finding out what they’d been missing.” She slid him a glance. “Why not you?”

“I’d already waited nearly a decade, I figured one more year wouldn’t kill me. Especially when there were men and women fighting for their lives and losing every single day.” Men like his childhood friend, Xander, who Beck had sent on his final mission. “What did I have to complain about, you know? There might have been opportunities if I’d looked for them, but I didn’t want to. It felt wrong.”

Beck was surprised to see they’d pulled up in front of the barracks. Kenna looked a little shocked herself as she shifted the car into park. “I’m sorry. Finding out in a letter…that really shouldn’t have happened to someone like you.”

“Hey.” He sent her a half grin, hoping to dispel the heaviness he’d created in the car. It was suddenly important he not leave her with a negative impression of their short time together. “I’m here on solid ground, ain’t I? Living and breathing. That’s more than a lot of soldiers can say.” Beck took one last look at her pretty face, memorizing her upturned top lip, wishing he could get one last peek at the glowing green eyes hidden behind her sunglasses. Her stubborn chin. It felt wrong to leave her, but what choice did he have? She wouldn’t very well want to date the pathetic, betrayed virgin he’d revealed himself to be. Even if she did, he only had four days at Black Rock before flying back to Georgia. “Goodbye, Kenna.” He scratched the back of his neck. “I must have done something right along the way to earn a ride from such a pretty girl, huh? You take care now.”

A lump stuck in his throat as he heaved his bag through the door and climbed out of the car.

Chapter Two

What the ever-loving fuck just happened?

Kenna stared out the windshield of her car, watching Beck climb the concrete stairs leading to his home for—how long? A day? A month? They hadn’t gotten around to the particulars of his stay. There’d been no real small talk, had there? No, he’d bared it all in the span of ten minutes. Just
do not pass go
…
do not gawk at the magnificent virgin in the passenger’s seat
. Because as she watched him move with a mixture of unassuming grace and innate confidence, she could freely admit that yes, he was indeed magnificent. The set of his shoulders, the sturdiness of him said this was a man who moved mountains if he put his mind to it.

No, there was no
if
about it. He
had
. Or at least he’d managed to shift something mountain-like inside her in a mere ten minutes. What was she supposed to do with these sucky, yucky feelings? Just watch him disappear into the barracks, effectively letting him get away with it? People—men, especially—usually took one look at her storm-trooper-meets-Cyndi Lauper look and wasted no time lobbing innuendoes at her head like mud-covered softballs. She never cared because those dudes all blurred together in a rippling sea of douchebags. This guy wouldn’t
blend
. He’d confided in her, and she was heavy with that responsibility. She…liked being heavy with that responsibility, which made no damn sense.

At the top step, Beck turned his head, catching her gaze through the windshield. She would go to her grave thankful that no one was in the car to hear the noise that left her mouth. It went something like
ohhhnooowhuu
. If he’d managed to keep the entreaty from those intense blue eyes, she might have driven off and endeavored to forget about Major Beck Collier, virgin extraordinaire. But it was there, even if he didn’t realize it. He needed someone. Someone kind and compassionate. That someone definitely wasn’t her, but he sure as shit needed
someone
, and there was no one else around.

She watched him tug a single key from his canvas bag and open the door. He ducked beneath the doorframe and vanished a second later. Kenna didn’t realize her fingers were digging into the steering wheel until they started to hurt. A sense of urgency danced in her ribcage, fluttering rapidly, slowly climbing into her throat.

“Goddammit.” She swiped a hand through her dark, messy hair before pushing open the driver’s side door and stepping out.

The morning chill had begun to dissipate, the ground soaking up the minimal heat and reflecting it onto her denim-clad legs. This parking lot was usually buzzing by now, but the Sunday silence amplified the sound of her boots clomping along the asphalt, echoing the nervous knocking inside her ribcage. On the second floor, she could see Beck had left the door slightly ajar, almost as if he’d hoped she’d follow.
Please let that be the case
. Otherwise this move was a smidge on the creepy side. She’d only signed on to be his transport, not his kick-it buddy.

Decision is already made, Kenna
. Too bad she didn’t have a clue what she would do once they were in the apartment together. She had no game plan. Or exit strategy. But she knew driving away would feel awful if she didn’t do
something
, so she followed in his footsteps up the stairs, like one of those cartoon characters floating along on the aroma of fresh-baked apple pie. Or peach pie, as it were.

“Hardy har,” Kenna muttered, stopping outside the door. Since when did she hesitate to do anything? To celebrate her eighteenth birthday, she’d gone streaking at the annual Army/Navy football game. Scaled the local water tower, spray-painting
Kenna was here…with beer
on the side. As a welder, she worked with fire, for fuck sake. Being nervous around a virgin was flat-out unacceptable. Even if he was Bigfoot-sized. After a full-body shake to loosen her nerves, she pushed the door open. When she saw Beck, her chest squeezed so tight, she swore it was wringing itself dry.