Let Freedom Ring

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Let Freedom Ring Page 5

by Weston Parker


  “One of the what’s?” He frowned, but there was unrestrained laughter in the way his eyes shimmered in the low light.

  “The charming players who pretend to be getting deployed the morning after,” I said.

  He reached past me to get the door. His forearm brushed against my side in what was no doubt a practiced move, but it also brought his front much closer to my back.

  I felt his breath ghosting across the side of my neck, and predictably, I shivered at his close proximity. When he spoke, strands of my hair moved along with his lips.

  “I’m not getting deployed tomorrow if that’s what you’re asking.”

  Heat spread from my chest to my cheeks, my heart suddenly racing. My physical reactions to this guy were insane, but I refused to let any man turn me to mush.

  “I wasn’t asking, but that’s good to know,” I murmured, squeezing my eyes shut and trying to coax moisture into my dry mouth.

  Thankfully, he swung the door open and the cool night air helped clear my mind. I took a step forward, losing his hand on my back but desperately needing not to be touched by him in any way while I regained my composure.

  Lincoln, on the other hand, looked entirely unaffected by the exchange. He walked out onto the balcony in purposeful strides, resting his elbow on the railing and turning to look at me as I approached him.

  “So, what’s a girl like you doing at a party like this?”

  An unexpected laugh tore out of me, but he’d effectively diffused the tension between us. “What can I say? I like to crash retirement parties.”

  His eyebrows rose in surprise, and he bit back a laugh of his own. “Fair enough. The booze is free, so it’s not a bad strategy.”

  “Exactly. The food was pretty good, too. There’s also always someone like you who’s willing to escape with me.” This was better. The fresh air was doing wonders for my brain. “It’s not a bad way to spend an evening.”

  Lincoln’s lips curved into a genuine grin, and my knees nearly gave out. “That’s just because we haven’t spoken much yet. You might regret your choice in escapee once we have.”

  “Why?” I cocked my head and faked an inquisitive frown, lowering my voice to a stage whisper. “Are you an escaped fugitive? A serial killer? Boring?”

  My eyes went wide on the last word, and this time, he didn’t bother trying to suppress his laughter. His head dropped back as it had before, but now I was close enough to see the way his Adam’s apple moved in the strong column of his throat.

  When his eyes came back to mine, they were positively alive with humor. Clearly, this was a guy who knew how not to take himself too seriously.

  It placed him squarely in the category of the most dangerous type of bad boy for me, but it had been too long since I’d had a bit of fun.

  “I’ve never been accused of being boring before, but there’s a first time for everything.”

  “Really?” I arched a brow. “That’s the accusation you’re defending yourself against first?”

  “Yep. I’d have to be the dumbest escaped fugitive ever to come here. Even the oldest man in that room would be able to take down a serial killer using only one hand.”

  “You could be dumb. I wouldn’t know.”

  Those gorgeous eyes shone, but he shrugged his agreement. “Want to find out? How about coming for a real drink with me?”

  I narrowed my eyes on his, weighing up my options. This guy was dangerous to me because he was exactly the type of guy I could fall for, which meant I’d have to be careful with him.

  In the end, though, my sense of adventure stirred and the rebellious streak inside insisted it’d been forced down for too long. “I have some things to take care of inside first. Later?”

  “Find me when you’re ready.”

  I lifted my glass of Cognac toward him but took a sip of my beer. “I’ll do that.”

  Deciding it was a good time to make my getaway, I smiled and thanked him for the drinks before making my way inside. I was just in time for Dad’s speech and took a seat next to Haley’s to listen to it.

  “I met someone,” I whispered to my friend. “I’m going out for a drink with him later.”

  She nudged me in the side with her elbow. “I want to hear all about him in the morning.”

  “Deal. You seem to be getting along well with the guy who was sitting here earlier.”

  Her eyes just about crossed as she swooned, a sweet sigh leaving her parted lips. “You’re not the only one with plans for later.”

  “Talk tomorrow?” I asked as Dad started wrapping up. He never had been one for too many words.

  Haley nodded, giving me a quick hug before I got up. My father was inundated with people as he stepped out from behind the podium, but I managed to make my way through to get to him.

  “I see you have some socializing to do. I’ll meet you back at the house, okay?”

  He gave me a stern frown, but then a friend of his slapped him on the shoulder, and he sighed. “Fine. Remember to stay out of trouble.”

  “Always, Dad.” I couldn’t agree to trouble staying out of me, but it was hardly the type of comment I would make to my dad. Pushing up to my tiptoes, I brushed a kiss against his cheek. “Enjoy your party.”

  He nodded but was already striking up a conversation with another silver-haired man wearing his fancy uniform. I took my cue to leave, weaving my way through the crowd to the bar.

  Lincoln was there, chatting to the very blond guy he’d come in with earlier. The guy spotted me making my way to them, said something to Lincoln, then took off.

  “I’m ready for those drinks,” I said when I got to him. “You?”

  “Always.” He smirked when I grabbed his hand but didn’t fight me as I started dragging him to the door before anyone could stop us.

  Chapter 7

  Lincoln

  Sofia hauled my ass out of the party as if it was on fire. I had no idea why we had to get out so fast or so urgently, but I went with it.

  The girl was hot, and she had a sense of humor. Spending the night with her sure as hell would be a lot more fun than staying back there with Charles and his merry band of goons.

  Eden and I had been seen, and we’d talked to some well-placed people. Our job there was done. We’d been on the verge of overstaying our welcome anyway.

  Sofia and I got out without being seen by many people since she stuck close to the wall on our way out. Then she laughed when we made it to the parking lot. “Damn, I’m glad to be out of there. I hate formal events.”

  “Same here. You have a car here?”

  She shook her head, her hair swinging with the movement. “I got a lift.”

  “Want to get a lift with me to the bar then?” I offered, and she accepted.

  As I led her to my truck, my fingers found hers in the darkness. They only brushed against the backs of hers but I definitely had electric chemistry with this woman. I’d felt it the second I’d touched her earlier, and I couldn’t fucking wait to explore it.

  It had been a while since I’d had an explosive one-night stand. I definitely hadn’t been expecting it tonight, but it seemed to be going that way, and I sure as fuck wasn’t about to say no.

  “I wondered if you were going to forget about me,” I said as I hit the unlock button on my key fob. The night lit up with a series of orange flashes. Then I opened the passenger door for her.

  She turned to face me before hopping into the cab with perfect ease. “I came to find you as soon as the speech was over, didn’t I?”

  “Yeah, but you made a pretty abrupt exit from the balcony earlier. Did you even have your Cognac?”

  The tops of her cheeks turned pink as a slow smile spread on her lips. “No. I tried it, though. It tastes like jet fuel.”

  “Why did you ask for it then?” When I saw her reach for the handle to close her door, I jogged to my side of the truck and climbed in myself.

  Sofia buckled up but angled her body toward me. “It was a whim. I suddenly really
wanted to try it. Needless to say, I won’t be making that mistake again. Where are we going?”

  I started the engine and eased it into reverse. “There’s a shitty dive bar near here, but they make strong margaritas, and they don’t play smooth jazz.”

  “Sounds like my kind of place.” She fiddled with my radio, settling for a station that played mainly pop-rock. “Is this okay?”

  “I prefer rock to pop, but sure.” After backing out of the parking, I kept one eye on the quiet road and one on her. “You know, people don’t usually touch the radio of someone they’ve just met.”

  “I’m not people. I’m just me.” She flashed me a sweet smile and batted her lashes when I stopped at a traffic light. “Is that okay with you? Or are you one of those macho guys who can’t stand not to be in control of everything?”

  I waved a hand at the radio. “Have at it. I like control in many things. What music plays in my truck for a two-mile drive doesn’t threaten me.”

  “How very masculine of you,” she teased, but there was an undercurrent of relief in her tone. “You sure you didn’t mind leaving the party?”

  “Not at all.” I gripped the wheel with one hand and ran the other over the top of my head. “I just had to put in an appearance. I never planned on staying. You?”

  “Pretty much the same.” When I slowed the truck, her eyes drifted past me to look at the bar we’d pulled up to. She brightened up instantly. “I love this place. You’re right about it being a dive bar, but that’s nothing a plate of their nachos can’t fix.”

  “Very true. I’ve never heard a woman say it, though.”

  She shot me a mock glare and flipped her hair. “Again, I’m just me, and me likes nachos.”

  Before I could tell her I liked that about her, she shot out of the truck and breezed into the bar. It was little more than a hole in the wall, but it was better than any of the ever-increasing touristy places on the island.

  Sofia was already at the bar when I walked in, chatting to Mindy, the bartender, as she mixed up a pitcher of margaritas. I signaled to Mindy to bring me the check, then chose one of the vinyl-covered booths in the back and took a seat.

  I thought about going over to help Sofia carry the drinks to the table, but something told me she’d object. When she finally joined me, effortlessly balancing the pitcher and two glasses, my suspicions were confirmed.

  She beamed at me as she sat down. “Thanks for getting us a table and for letting me get the drinks, but I could have paid for them, you know?”

  “I’m sure you could have, but I asked you out. That means I have to get at least the first round. It’s just how this works.”

  “Fine.” Her cheeks lifted as she grinned like a darn Cheshire cat. “But that means I get the second round.”

  I eyed the massive pitcher in front of us dubiously. “I mentioned they mix these up strong here, didn’t I?”

  “You scared?” she asked, motioning for me to fill up our glasses. “If it’s me you’re worried about, don’t be. I can handle it.”

  Smirking before I bent over to duck my head beneath the table, I said, “I don’t see a wooden leg. Where do you hide it?”

  A slight squeak reached my ears and her knees slammed shut, even though she wore a longer length dress. It hit mid-calf, so sadly I didn’t catch a glimpse of anything.

  “I’m not hiding anything down there. I don’t need a wooden leg. I’ve been drinking these since I turned eighteen. Get out from there. People are watching.”

  “I thought we weren’t people.” I straightened up, looking right into those hazel eyes. “And eighteen, huh? You had a fake ID?”

  Her cheeks flushed again. “I meant twenty-one. Obviously.”

  “Uh huh.” I lifted my brows but reached for the pitcher to fill our glasses. “Tell that to someone who isn’t a professional bullshitter.”

  Sofia cocked her head to the side, a sly smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “I thought you guys preferred to be referred to as professional badasses? I guess there’s some truth to being professional bullshitters when it comes to the ladies, though.”

  “You guys?” I pushed her glass over to her, and she tipped it in acknowledgment before taking a sip. “What guys would that be?”

  “Are you not a SEAL?”

  I snapped my fingers, shaking my head and pretending to be disappointed. “Here I thought I was being all mysterious and shit.”

  Sofia’s answering laugh was a light, melodic sound that made me smile back at her. “Nope. Sorry. The location of our meeting was a dead giveaway.”

  “So it wasn’t even the muscles then?” I let my shoulders slump. “Damn it. I’m really losing my touch.”

  “The muscles were my second clue,” she said, reaching over to pat my bicep. “They’re very nice. Don’t worry. You’re not losing anything.”

  “Thank you.” I chuckled, then dropped the act. Sitting back, I picked up my glass and sipped some of the tart liquid. “What do you do for a living? Considering where we met, I’d have been tempted to say something in the service. I’m just not getting that vibe from you, though.”

  “Why not?” She waggled her eyebrows at me, lifting one of her arms and flexing it. “There could be muscle hidden in here somewhere.”

  “There could be,” I agreed. “But it’s not that. I can’t quite put my finger on what it is, though. You have to be connected to the Navy in some way to have been there tonight, but you’re not in the service.”

  “I’m not. I’m a medical student at UCLA.” She didn’t elaborate on how she’d ended up at Charles’ table at his retirement party or how she was connected to the Navy, but I didn’t bring it up again.

  I figured she’d tell me if she wanted to, and if she didn’t, that was fine. It wasn’t like it really mattered anyway. “Medical school. Wow. You have to be really smart.”

  She shrugged. “School has never really been a problem for me. Some of us are physical, like you. Others are not, like me. Everyone has a strength of their own.”

  “Isn’t it rare for people as smart as you not to flaunt it?” In my experience, you generally knew someone was smart because they told you they were. Sofia wasn’t like that, though.

  Instead of flaunting it or talking about her intellect at all, she changed the topic. “If you could live anywhere other than here, where would it be?”

  “Here as in Coronado, or here as in the country?”

  She pressed her lips together, pursed them, then shrugged again. “Let’s say the country first, then the island.”

  “If I had to pick a different country, I’d say Ireland. Somewhere else in the States? That’s easy. West Virginia.”

  “Why those two?” She pulled her head back. “Also, why is West Virginia such an easy choice?”

  “Ireland for the beers, bars, and people. It looks awesome, and I’ve heard it’s beautiful there. West Virginia because then I’d be able to sing that song about going home to West Virginia and it’d be true. But also because it’s cool, quiet, and something different.”

  “I’ll take it.” She clinked her glass against mine. “Good answers.”

  I took another sip of my drink, savoring the tequila before swallowing it down. “What about you?”

  She rocked her head but held up two fingers. “The other country would have to be India and another place than here would probably be New York.”

  “The city that never sleeps?” I frowned. “You’re crazy. Sleep is great.”

  “It is,” she agreed. “But I think it’d be something to experience.”

  “That’s fair. Why India?”

  “The vibrancy of the culture, the food, and the difference I’d be able to make in the developing world once I graduate.”

  “That’s a noble cause.” The more I got to know this girl, the more I actually liked her. Sure, I still wanted to fuck her, but talking to her wasn’t half bad either.

  “Being a SEAL is noble, too,” she said. “So are many other profess
ions.”

  “True, but there are many people in those professions that are in it for themselves and not for others.” I shook my head. “But let’s dial the intensity of this conversation back a bit. Favorite band?”

  “One Direction,” she said without hesitation.

  I cringed. “I thought we had a lot in common until you went and said that.”

  “Why?” She laughed. “You don’t like them?”

  “They’re no Metallica.”

  “No, they’re about sixty years younger than those guys. Also, Metallica? Really? Could you be any more stereotypical?”

  “Liking Metallica is a stereotype?”

  “It is if you’re in the military. Just for once, I’d like to hear from someone who listens to less screamy, bangy music but is also a soldier.”

  My eyebrows swept up. “Screamy and bangy? I don’t think we can be friends.”

  “I never wanted to be your friend,” she said. I was pretty sure it was a joke, but then my dick went and remembered the chemistry we had, and all bets were off.

  “Really? What did you want from me then?” My voice was definitely huskier than it had been a minute before.

  Sofia’s eyes caught on mine. “Your body, but I can be your friend instead if that’s what you want.”

  “Nope. I’m good. My friends like screamy and bangy music.”

  She dipped her head at the pitcher. “We finishing that?”

  “My hotel is within walking distance.” I picked up my glass, dumping the remainder of the contents down my throat. “You want to take the rest of the margaritas with us? Mindy keeps containers big enough to take it.”

  “Let’s do that.” Sofia downed her drink as well, then stuck to my side as we asked Mindy if we could take the rest with us. She wasn’t supposed to let us, but she did anyway.

  We walked hand in hand to the hotel I was staying at. Sofia kept glancing at me but didn’t say anything.

  I unlocked my door and barely had a chance to set the takeout jug down inside before I felt her walking up behind me. I spun around to find her looking up at me, her lips parted.

 

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