“This is where you grew up?”
“For the most part. We spent a lot of time here.” He climbed out of the car. “Thanks for the ride, Emma, and for a great day.”
She nodded. It was just as terrific for her.
As she drove away, she pictured him as a young kid growing up there, with wide-eyed dreams about the Marines. Had it lived up to his expectations?
He’d already served over ten years and wanted to continue, which likely meant yes. But he also couldn’t anticipate the despair of losing a friend. Her heart ached for him and she wished she could do something to alleviate his pain.
Emma returned to her apartment. She took off her bra as she often did the second she walked through the door if she was alone. She hated them and would rather have the comfort of soft fleece rather than a wired cage. Searching the fridge for something to drink, she grabbed a coconut water. She plopped onto the couch and stared at the security system. With that in place, she felt more secure after hearing about the break-ins.
Had that only been yesterday? So much seemed to have happened since then, namely during the time she’d spent with Vince. That underlying sensual tension wasn’t a surprise since that had hovered between them since they’d first met.
After what they’d revealed to each other, their connection seemed deeper. Was it simply with them letting down their guards enough to become friends?
Or something more?
She shook her head and released a doubtful sound. Even if she got over her hang-ups, he’d be leaving Newport after the new year.
Still, with Vince revealing some of his vulnerability, she couldn’t help but wonder—could two wounded souls help each other heal?
Or, were some scars too deep?
And some people too scarred?
Chapter Seven
Vince
Vince lay in his old bedroom at his parent’s house, opting to stay here for the weekend rather than go back to base. Although it was now a guest room with a queen bed and no longer had his and Matty’s twin beds, it still brought back the comfort of a familiar space.
He attempted to read a fantasy novel, but when he read the same page for the third time, he put the book down. The sparks from that short kiss simmered in his brain. She’d written it off as a friendly, celebratory gesture, but it felt like more to him. Was he reading too much into it? Likely.
And then he’d invited her to go shopping with him to buy gifts for O’Brien’s kids. Was that odd?
Possibly.
He groaned. Probably.
It had come up at dinner and it hadn’t seemed strange at the time.
Only after he had gone home that night did questions creep in. Why had he told her about O’Brien? It wasn’t something he discussed unless he had to as the emotions were still too raw.
Vince pulled up a photo of O’Brien on his phone, one of them at their camp in Afghanistan together, smiling as if they weren’t thousands of miles away from home and being targeted. Less than a year later, O’Brien had been torn apart by an IED, leaving his wife a widow and kids without a father.
It was a harsh reminder of why Vince wouldn’t get serious with anyone while he served. His MOS was too dangerous. He couldn’t start a family when the risk of it being blown apart—literally—was a serious threat to consider.
Vince closed the photo, saving it to its folder like one of the many compartments he’d created in his mind over the years. He played music instead, a darker play list for moods like this. When The Cure’s “If Only Tonight We Could Sleep” came on, he stared at the ceiling.
What was Emma doing now? Sleeping? He pictured her lying in bed, her eyes closed and a soft, peaceful expression on her face. What an enjoyable day they’d shared. When he geeked out and dragged her to the escape room, she had as much fun as he did, enough so that she kissed him—and she’d smelled so good. It took all his restraint not to press himself against her and suggest they go someplace where they could be alone.
What was going on between them? He blew out a rough breath. Fuck if he knew.
She’d mentioned being friends. With that underlying sensual tension always simmering between them, was it possible?
He’d fantasized about her almost every night since he’d run into her in Newport.
Not that she seemed on board with that happening, so he might as well forget that.
Despite that sizzling kiss, she’d put him in the friend zone.
When Vince woke before sunrise the next morning, he tried to shake off last night’s brooding. Today, he’d be spending more time with Emma, and he looked forward to that more than he’d anticipated anything in a long time. Since they were going out to do something nice for O’Brien’s family, Vince would keep the mood lighter and focus on the positives. He’d store the darker thoughts to a safe place tucked away. He was good at that. His mind was just a more complicated version of a computer with its additional emotions and senses. He could save the files and close them for later retrieval.
In the shower, he took deep meditative breaths to push thoughts of despair to recede. His unit had undergone training to deal with stress, and Vince attempted to follow meditative breathing techniques to help cope. Repeating mantras and the cool water helped him to crawl out before he sank too deep.
He considered not shaving but did so out of habit. Next week though, once leave started, he would relax, and that included no shaving or haircuts.
After some hot brewed coffee and three eggs, Vince asked to borrow his father’s car. He didn’t have to ask Emma to schlep his sorry ass around town.
“Where are you going?” his father asked, staring up from a paper from under his Navy baseball cap. Old-school, he still subscribed to daily paper delivery.
“To go shopping with a friend.”
“Fine. Take care of it.” He glanced back to the article.
Vince listened to Nine Inch Nails on the drive over. When Closer came on, he had to change it. He didn’t need any more reminders of his ache to get closer.
After he reached her apartment and she answered the door, he took a step forward.
“I’m ready to go.” Her voice came out a bit breathless.
Right, they were leaving. He almost forgot when he saw her, ready to spend time hanging at her place again.
Her eyes gleamed with a shimmer of excitement.
Ha. He was probably imagining that from wishful thinking.
The soft green sweater highlighted that shade in her eyes, which now looked more hazel than brown. Her hair was down and tousled around her shoulders, looking soft to the touch.
“You look great.”
She brushed off his compliment with a casual wave. “Oh, you know, just wearing festive colors for the season.” She raised her index finger. “I’ll be two seconds. Just need to grab my coat.”
He swallowed the disappointment of not being invited in. What was wrong with him? They weren’t hanging out at her place; they were going shopping downtown.
She returned seconds later, carrying both a black coat and phone wallet. After putting the phone in the pocket, she put on her coat. As she wrapped it around her, the sweater pulled at her breasts. Shit, he was staring and about to salivate. He dragged his gaze away before she caught him gawking.
She touched her hair. “Good. It isn’t still wet.”
The image of her in the shower with water cascading down over her naked breasts did nothing to stop his fantasies.
“It is chilly this morning. You might want to wear a hat.”
She nodded and smiled. “Good idea. Thanks for looking out for me.” She put on a gray winter hat with a white puffy thing on the top. “Do I look ridiculous?”
“I doubt that’s possible.” He winked. “Cute as hell.”
They walked to the car. He opened her door and welcomed her in. “Milady.”
“Thanks.” She climbed in. “How chivalrous of you. Not what I’d expect from a hard-core Marine.”
He arched a brow. “Then you don’t know us very
well,” he teased and closed the door. After he walked over and entered his side, he added, “Chivalry is part of the package.”
She grinned. “I didn’t think there’s room for anything else besides the massive ego.”
The good-natured banter was back. He laughed. “It does take up a good amount of space, but we manage to squeeze in some other attributes.”
“I’m just teasing. From what I’ve seen, you’re quite humble.” She shrugged. “It’s refreshing to see that, especially from someone so smart.”
Warmth spread through his chest. Her positive assessment meant something. Before he let it go too far, he warned in a playful tone, “Careful or you’ll make the ego monster emerge from his cave.”
She laughed with a snort and then covered her mouth. “I can’t believe you just made me snort laugh!”
Hearing her laugh in any way gave him a strange sense of pleasure and pride. He kept that secret to himself.
Half an hour later, Emma helped him navigate through options in a toy store. It was crowded this close to Christmas, but tolerable.
“These are good for the youngest,” she pointed out a display with simple blocks and other toys aimed for twelve months and up. “As they get older, you have more choices and it gets harder, especially if you don’t know what they’re into.”
“Hmm, that’s the case here.”
“I got my niece and nephew some of these.” She brought them to another display. “They’re educational, but fun. Never heard any complaints.”
Vince examined the options. Science kits, simple engineering ones, chemistry sets, geodes, space systems—all the stuff he was into when he was a kid.
“These are great. O’Brien would probably be into these and might have gotten his kids into them.”
“Perfect.”
After he chose an age-appropriate kit for each, she nodded. “Good choices.”
He paid and turned to her as they exited. “Thanks for coming with me, Emma. Do you have time to go to the bookstore next? I want to pick up some books for them.”
“Sure. I wouldn’t mind picking up a new book myself. Something to distract me during the holidays.”
His brows furrowed. He hated seeing how much it pained her. What could he do to make it easier?
Trying to keep his tone light, he noted, “I’m around and happy to serve as a diversion.”
She gave him an odd look as if trying to decipher what he meant. Shit, did that sound like a come on?
With a slow nod, she replied. “I’ll keep that in mind.” Her neutral tone revealed nothing.
In the bookstore, the clerk helped him pick out some recent popular choices from the children’s section. Then he and Emma wandered through the aisles, browsing for something for themselves.
He found the next book in the fantasy series he was reading and added it to his stack. “I love the scent of bookstores.” He breathed in the scent. “I’m a total nerd, I admit it.”
“Who doesn’t love books?” she said.
“My younger brother, Matty, for one. He hates to crack them open. He’s much more of a hands-on learner.” Vince remembered one of Matty’s remarks and smiled. “We give each other a hard time about it. The first thing I do when I move to a new duty station is find the base library. Matty calls it my nerd magnet kicking in.”
She laughed. “I might have one of those too, since I love books.”
“What do you like to read?”
“All kinds of nonfiction to learn new things, like how to grow a succulent garden, but I haven’t tried yet. And thrillers--I love being on the edge of my seat. What about you?”
“I’m a total geek. Sci-fi and fantasy are a given, but I try to branch out occasionally.”
They browsed the aisles, peering at books.
She glanced at him. “You mentioned your older brother before and now Matty. Do you have any other siblings?”
“No, just the two of them. Matty’s the youngest and he’s the most outgoing, always joking. Angelo, the eldest, takes his big brother role seriously.”
“Meaning?”
“He thinks he knows what’s best for others. He means well, but it can be a pain in the ass, especially when we were teens and I just wanted to be left alone.”
She peered at him. “So you’re in the middle?”
One side of his mouth curled up. “That’s right, the reclusive middle brother. One who preferred to stay in his room working on projects.” He raised his chin. “What about you? You mentioned a brother.”
“Right, it’s Kyle and me, and he’s five years older. With just the two of us, it isn’t bad, but I definitely know what you mean about having an older brother who thinks he knows what’s best for you.”
She spotted a paperback thriller and picked it up. “I’ve wanted to read this.”
“It’s on me, to thank you for helping me out today.”
Her brows furrowed. “You already promised lunch to thank me.”
“Fine. It’s an early Christmas present.”
She glanced at his book. “Then I’m getting one for you.” She offered her book and reached for his. “Deal?”
“Deal.” He stared at the book in her hands. A gift from her. Not just a gift, a book. One that would remind him of his time here with her. He always tried to bring a few books with him when he was deployed. They provided an escape when he was far from home. This book would have another meaning—a connection to Emma.
His muscles tensed. Soon after the new year, he would go back to his duty station. Where did that leave them? Would they carry on as friends? Or would she end up being just another person he’d met, part of his life for a brief while and then never seen again? That was common with relationships in the military. You could live and work and breathe with someone for months—and then someone was reassigned. Gone. That was why it was better to avoid attachments, but was it already too late with Emma? Because the more he spent time with her, the more time he wanted to spend with her. At least while he could.
They passed an area with leather armchairs and a portable fireplace.
“One day, I want a reading nook like this. A house with a fireplace and a large bookcase in the living room.”
“I hope it’s filled with many leather-bound books and smells like rich mahogany,” Emma said in a deeper voice.
When he caught on that she was quoting Ron Burgundy from Anchorman, he laughed. “Exactly. Thanks for laughing at my dream.”
“Not at all.” She brushed it off with a wave. “I get it. You get relocated to different locations. It’s good to have a symbol of what you want in your mind.”
“Do you have one?”
“I did.”
“And now?”
She frowned and her gaze drifted. “I don’t know.”
After they left the store, they exchanged gifts. Light snowflakes had started to fall, but melted on the sidewalk
“It’s snowing!” She stuck out her tongue and caught one.
He ignored the stiffness in his groin and followed suit, sticking his tongue out to catch one. “Ready for lunch?”
Once they were seated at a café that served panini and frothy coffees, he continued with their conversation, trying to uncover what she wanted. “What about what you want from life?”
“Oh, that’s a big question.” She took a sip of coffee and the froth stuck to her lips. When she licked it, he tried to avoid staring at her mouth with the shine on her pink lips.
“The divorce changed everything,” she admitted. “I’m creating a new version of my future by starting over.”
That made sense. “What are some things you see in this new version?”
She chewed a bite of the sandwich and appeared to contemplate the question. “I’d like to travel more, especially while I’m in my twenties.”
“What’s stopping you?”
She stared at him and shrugged. “Good question.” She glanced away. “The funny thing about starting over is questioning what you always tho
ught you wanted. Is it still the case?”
Vince considered those words. He’d spent his entire military career avoiding getting serious with anyone. But the more he spent time with Emma, the more he questioned if that was still what he wanted.
“I think that’s part of getting older,” he replied. “With more experience, you better understand who you are.”
When she brought her eyes back to meet his, their gazes locked.
His palms heated. “And who you want.”
“Who?” she repeated.
Shit, he meant to say what. He cleared his throat. “What,” he clarified. “What you want.”
Chapter Eight
Vince
On Monday morning, training resumed. Vince had eaten dinner with his family last night and returned to base. At lunchtime, he wanted to stop by and see Emma, but held himself back. After all, they’d spent the past three days together. He couldn’t crowd her, besides, he had packages to send.
The next day, though, he couldn’t keep away, and found her cataloging a stack of military history books.
“I thought you might like to know that I shipped off the kids’ packages yesterday and they should get there tomorrow.”
She grinned. “Glad you didn’t wait until the last minute.”
“Want to get lunch?” He tried to sound casual.
Her brows furrowed. “I can’t today. How about tomorrow?”
“Can’t. Training.” The next few days of the program he was in would be intense, not leaving much free time. He wouldn’t have much of a break until Friday.
Her expression reflected his disappointment. “Another time,” she said.
The days dragged by and he texted her when he could. By the time he had a few minutes to stop by her desk on Friday, the yearning had grown uncomfortable. When he saw her again, her dark hair pulled up into a bun with some loose strands falling over her face, he exhaled.
This wasn’t good. He shouldn’t allow himself to feel this way about her.
Still, he couldn’t resist flirting. “Miss me?”
Vince: One Night with a Marine: A Second Chance Military Romance (Anchor Me Book 2) Page 7