by Cat Johnson
“Drunks too,” she pointed out.
“Also true.” He nodded before focusing back completely on her. “So, I’ve got something to ask you.”
As loud as it was in there, talking at all was a challenge. And now he wanted to ask her a question?
It must important.
She wasn’t sure she was ready for important yet. She was only just wrapping her head around them being a couple.
Making light of it seemed the best way to go. “Is this your first question that you’re not going to accept a no to?”
“Yes. As a matter of fact, it is.” He nodded. “Ready?”
Her mind went to many places, some of them X-rated, but some of them not. Some of them serious. Too serious for her delicate state of balance.
As she wondered what he was about to lay on her, she swallowed hard and said, “Okay. Go on. Ask. I’m ready.”
“Will you be my date to my mother’s wedding? It’s next month in Vegas.”
Her eyes flew wide. That hadn’t been on her list of guesses but it certainly was interesting “Oh my God. They got engaged?”
“Yes. Right after she visited.”
“And how do you feel about that?” she asked.
“Jesus, that’s such a therapist’s question. I’m going to have to get used to things like that coming out of my girlfriend’s mouth, I guess.”
“I guess so. And you didn’t answer,” she said.
“I feel okay about it. I realized life is too short to waste time. One reason I’m now the man who won’t take no for an answer.”
“Understandable.” She nodded.
“Well, I started thinking. Mom is in the same position. She’s been alone for so long. If she loves this guy Dale and enjoys being with him, why wait?” He shrugged.
“This is a big change. A good one. I’m glad you’re happy for her.”
He drew in a big breath and let it out. “Can the therapist take a break now so I can have my girlfriend back? I’m ready to take you up on that offer to go back to your place.”
They were already standing about as closely as they could get while in the pub and fully clothed, but she tipped her pelvis to bump against him. “You’ve been ready for a while.”
“You felt that?” He cringed.
“Yes. It’s hard to miss.”
He smiled at the compliment, letting out a breathy laugh. “Oh, it’s hard all right. Sorry about that.”
“Don’t apologize on my account. I’ve been lonely without you. I had to buy more batteries.”
“Jesus, woman.” He glanced around before leaning low to say, “Comments like that are going to have me taking you in the parking lot if you don’t watch it.”
She tipped her head to one side and considered. “That could be interesting.”
He shook his head, visibly trying to control his smile. “Come on. Let’s get out of here before you get us both arrested for public indecency.”
They walked through the doorway, his arm around her shoulders, just as the sea shanty ended, which sent them off amid a chorus of cheers.
The applause was for the singers and the song, not for her and Brian, although she’d like to think that the fact they’d finally gotten over their personal hang-ups enough to turn this fake relationship into a real one would also have the support of the McP’s crowd.
The sea shanty stuck in her head now, she found herself humming the tune and they walked outside.
Squeezing her shoulder, Brian started singing along softly as they walked toward her car.
TWENTY-EIGHT
“You make a giant spectacle at McP’s to get me to let you stay the night and you’re not staying?” Alicia’s brows were as high as the pitch of her voice.
“No. I made a spectacle at McP’s because you wouldn’t call or text me back. Your fault. I’m leaving now because I’m meeting the team at five a.m. on the shooting range. Now, if you’d like me to sleep over and set the alarm for four a.m. I’ll be happy to do that. Just beware I always wake up with morning wood, and if you’re next to me, there’s no way I’m not sticking it in you.”
“Crude.” She frowned.
“Truth,” he countered.
She pouted. “You can go. I’m a morning person, but four a.m. is pre-morning in my opinion. I’ll talk to you tomorrow?”
“I’ll call you. You gonna answer?” he asked, brow high.
“Yes.”
“Good girl. I’d hate to have to break out my rendition of The Wellerman. I’m growing fond of that song.”
She rolled her eyes. “I think I’ve created a monster.”
“A monster in bed.” He considered that. “I like that review of my performance. I’ll take it.”
Shaking her head, she swung her legs over the side of the mattress. “I’ll walk you to the door.”
“I’ll let you.” He had visions of one more hot good night kiss before he left her tonight.
A box sitting on the table next to the front door caught his attention.
The hyper-observant woman he’d fallen for didn’t miss his glance. “That’s something I need to go to the post office and mail.”
He waited for more of an explanation.
Like his psych training promised, she filled the silence with, “It’s my ex’s stuff. He contacted me out of the blue asking for it back. I didn’t even realize I had most of that. So . . .”
The ex. Interesting.
“Want me to return it for you?” he offered.
Her eyes brightened. “Would you? I hate going to the post office.”
He’d never said he was going to the post office. Just that he’d return the box to the son of a bitch who’d been such a bad boyfriend, he’d almost missed out on being with this amazing woman because of him.
“Yup. I can definitely handle this for you. No problem.”
The kiss he gave her before leaving encompassed all he felt. About her ex. About her. About them as a couple.
It said he was ready, willing and able to fight for her. And fight to win her heart.
His kiss left her reeling and flushed by the door and himself fueled with adrenaline and determination for the encounter to come.
It was getting late. Full dark. Long past business hours. That didn’t matter. This particular duty wasn’t one that could wait.
With the package on the passenger seat next to him, he punched the address into his GPS.
Moments later he had a battle plan. A map directly to the bastard’s location cued up on the screen on his dash.
Throwing the Jeep into gear, he found himself whistling the tune to Old Maui as he headed toward his destination.
Brian derived some satisfaction as the GPS directed him to a neighborhood of small rental bungalows not half as nice as the area where Alicia lived.
For some reason he didn’t want the guy who’d wounded her to have a nice house. Mean people—bad men, terrorists, whatever—none of them deserved nice things.
Grabbing the box from the passenger seat, he headed up the walkway to the door, still whistling the catchy tune stuck in his head.
There was a doorbell, which he pushed, but that didn’t satisfy him. He pounded a fist on the door as well, for good measure.
Lights flicked on and he heard a number of locks disengage before the door swung open.
He looked down, surprised the man was at least half a foot shorter, maybe more. From his vantage point, Brian could see the thinning hair on the top of Greg’s head. That detail might have widened his smile just a bit.
“Are you Greg Holloway?” He made a show of reading the name on the box, even though he’d long since memorized it.
“Yes. They got you guys working late.” He extended his scrawny arms toward the package.
Brian held it just out of his reach. “This delivery comes with a few strings attached.”
Greg frowned.
He continued, “You are never—and I mean never—to contact Alicia again. For any reason. Am I understood?”
Greg had the nerve to scoff at that order. “What business is it of yours?”
“That’s none of your business. Not anymore. You agree to my terms?”
Greg scowled. “No.”
“Okay. I’ll just take this back with me then. I gotta drop my garbage off at the dump anyway. It’s not a problem.” Brian turned and started down the path, very much aware he was wearing a sweatshirt with NAVY spelled out in big yellow letters across his broad back.
By now the dickhead would have figured out he was not a delivery man. Or at least he should have noticed he was driving a suped-up Jeep, not a big brown box truck.
“Wait! Okay.”
He stopped where he was and glanced back. “You agree?”
Greg looked pissed but he nodded. “Yes.”
“Say it.” He stood his ground, the coveted box still held hostage in his hands.
“I agree to never contact Alicia again.”
Nodding, he turned back, took the few steps to close the distance, then, ignoring Greg’s outstretched hands, let the box drop to the sidewalk. He didn’t know if there was anything fragile inside and to be honest, he didn’t care.
“Have a nice night.” Whistling yet again, he took his sweet time getting back to his vehicle.
As he sat in the driver’s seat, he glanced back and got one more glimpse of the man in the doorway clutching his box.
When Greg saw him looking, he scrambled back into the house and slammed the door, no doubt locking it for his own safety.
That made Brian chuckle. As if any locked door could keep him—or any SEAL—out.
Hyped up from the encounter, he pulled into the parking lot of his apartment building and grabbed the cell from the dashboard.
He glanced at the time displayed on the screen.
It was late. But not that late. He navigated to the correct screen and tapped to make the call.
Seconds later, Alicia’s voice greeted him with, “Hey, there.”
He hadn’t meant it to be a test to see if she would answer, if she was done avoiding him, but he supposed in the back of this mind he’d been wondering. Filled with hope but braced for disappointment.
But she had answered and all was right with the world.
“Hey. Just wanted to say goodnight before I hit my rack,” he said.
“Hit your rack, huh? I suppose one day I’ll get all this military lingo down.” She laughed.
He smiled and his heart felt full. “Take all the time you need.”
In fact, a lifetime wasn’t out of the question.
EPILOGUE
“Happy one year anniversary, my valentine.” Brian thrust forward a huge, gorgeous bouquet of flowers.
“Thank you. They’re beautiful.” She backed away from the door so he could come in out of the February air.
He did, closing the door behind him but not taking his jacket off before bracketing her face between his palms and taking possession of her lips.
It was quite a kiss, its passion only tempered by the amount of foliage between them since she’d never gotten to lay down the bouquet.
She didn’t mind his enthusiasm. That things in the physical department hadn’t cooled at all between them over the past year, and in fact had only burned hotter, was a huge comfort, squelching any residual doubts and fears she might still have.
Finally, he released her, taking the flowers back and moving toward the kitchen sink. She watched as he took out a cutting board and a kitchen knife before reaching into the highest cabinet and easily grabbing the vase she’d finally purchased since he kept buying her flowers.
He knew she needed the stepstool to get the vase down. He also knew that though she loved flowers, she hated the trimming and arranging part.
Since figuring that out, he’d always taken over those duties himself—part of the gift, he’d said.
Yes, in some ways he was perfect. That didn’t stop her from correcting him when he was wrong. “Valentine’s Day isn’t our anniversary.”
“Sure, it is. It was our first date.”
“Our first fake date,” she said.
“Then when do you consider our anniversary?” he asked.
She honestly hadn’t considered it at all.
Maybe she was missing that gene that most women had. But since he’d asked . . . “I guess the day you serenaded me at McP’s.”
He let out a laugh. “Really? Okay. We’ll have two anniversaries then and just celebrate twice. All right?”
“Okay. Do you remember what date that was?” she asked.
“The date of McP’s? I don’t, but I don’t have to. We just have to look at the dozens of videos of me singing that are posted online to see what date it was.”
“Ah, modern technology. How romantic.” She rolled her eyes.
“I don’t mind technology, as long as we can still celebrate the old fashioned way.” Moving away from the sink, he grabbed her ass with both hands and pulled her close to demonstrate his point. “Although I do like the occasional addition of your bedside toys. Those might be technically considered technology.”
She removed his hands from her ass just as his fingers began creeping purposefully between her legs. “We’ll have to celebrate later. Now we have to get to my sister’s party.”
“All right. But I’m going to hold you to that.” He sighed and stepped back. “You know, we should have a party—”
She frowned. “Ugh. Why?”
His brows rose. “Why not?”
“I’m not a party person. I don’t even like going to her parties. Why would I have one of my own?”
“Because it would be our party. We can do it after I move in next month when my lease is up. Unless you’re taking back your invitation . . .”
“I am not. Unless you’re planning on throwing a bunch of wild parties.” She cocked up a brow. “Are you?”
“I was thinking more of a housewarming party. Wine. Appetizers. Lasagna—the non-vegan kind. Not a keg party.”
“Oh. Okay. Dinner parties, I’ll allow.”
“Good to know. Now get your coat and purse so we can go. I’ve got flowers in the Jeep for your sister.”
Alicia narrowed her eyes. “As nice as my flowers?”
She eyed the bouquet, somehow looking perfect in the vase even though Brian had thrown it together in such a short time.
Yup, she was definitely missing the flower arranging gene too. Good thing he seemed to have it.
“No, not nearly as nice as yours, love of mine.” His lips twitched with a smile as he pressed them against hers. “Mmm. We better go before I take off that pretty red sweater of yours and take you to bed.”
She almost considered that idea, just so they’d have fewer hours to spend at her sister’s. But she was probably already on borrowed time.
That Jen hadn’t already texted or called to make sure they were on their way was a miracle. She must be too busy putting the finishes touches on this year’s Keto cupcakes.
Another year, another food trend. That was the burden of having Jen as a sister. Alicia might never recover from the kale year. Jen’s green smoothies still haunted her nightmares.
The drive over in Brian’s Jeep seemed familiar now. Even with his frequent missions they had still been guests at Jen and Jason’s house countless times over the past year.
They arrived to the expected full house and flustered hostess. Brian worked his magic on her sister by arranging her flowers too and offering to run more ice out to the bar in the living room.
Meanwhile, Alicia spotted Shelly, already there. One more reason she couldn’t have backed out of coming. Leaving Shelly at Jen’s party alone would have been an unforgiveable offense.
Shelly spotted Alicia and wove her way through the guests, nearly breathless when she arrived. “What took you so long to get here?”
“Sorry. Truth is, I didn’t want to come.” Alicia shrugged.
“Well, I can’t say I blame you. If I had a boyfriend like Brian I’d be tempted
to stay home too. But it’s a good thing you did come. And you owe me.” Shelly leaned in closer and whispered, “Jen is trying to fix me up now because you’re off the market.”
Alicia had never considered herself on the market, but she could commiserate with Shelly. She’d been on the receiving end of Jen’s matchmaking efforts too many times herself.
“Who is she throwing at you?” She glanced around the room, wondering if Jen had a new crop of recruits or if she was recycling Alicia’s rejects.
“Some guy named Andrew.”
Her eyes popped wide. “Oh my God. I’m so sorry. I’ll talk to Jen.”
No one, especially not her best friend, should be subjected to that kind of torture.
“I’ll take care of him. Don’t worry.” Brian’s deep voice behind her heralded his arrival in the conversation. He leaned forward and delivered a peck to Shelly’s cheek. “Hey, Shell. Happy Valentine’s Day.”
“Happy Valentine’s Day to you too.” She smiled. “And here’s a thought. Do you have any single friends who want to be my fake boyfriend?”
Brian laughed it off as a joke, but Alicia considered the idea.
“You know what? That might be the answer. It’s the only thing that kept Jen off my back. My pretending to date Brian.”
He cleared his throat. “And then actually dating me.”
“Yes, that too,” she dismissed his comment. “But I think that’s a perfect idea.” She spun to face Brian. “Who have you got for her?”
He folded his thick arms across his chest. “The Navy isn’t your personal matchmaking agency for fake dates, you know.”
“It could be,” she pointed out. “Come on. It’s an emergency. Jen’s trying to fix her up with Andrew.”
That horror deserved repeating, to reinforce how dire the situation was.
He let out a sigh. “All right. I’ll see what I can do.”
“Yay.” Shelly clapped her hands. “And who knows? Maybe I’ll find love too. Look how well it worked out for you two.”
“Can’t argue with you there.” Brian nodded.
Neither could Alicia.
Eyes, bright, Shelly said, “I’m going to go make the big confession to your sister that I’ve met someone but it’s still so new I didn’t want to mention it and jinx it. And that I’m meeting him later tonight for a Valentine’s Day booty call.”