by Hill, Teresa
Her hair was in a neat, long ponytail, and she’d even put on a smidgen of makeup. She hoped she looked nothing like the falling-apart woman who’d left this school months ago.
She walked through the front doors and to the school office, where she found a familiar, friendly face behind the front counter.
“Dani, hi. It’s good to see you again. How are you?” Rose asked.
“Better, thank you, Rose.”
“A man was here looking for you — ”
“Mace?”
“Yes. He found you?”
“He did. Thank you.”
“He’s a looker. We talked about him for days. Friend of yours?”
“Friend of a friend,” she said, then remembered she was coming clean. “Actually, he knew my fiancé.”
“You got engaged? Good for you, girl — ”
“No, I was engaged. Last summer. He was in the Navy. He was killed a few weeks before the school year started.”
“Oh, honey. I’m so sorry. Why didn’t you tell us? We would have wanted to help.”
“I know I should have. I was such a mess, and I thought it would be easier if I didn’t have to talk about Aaron, but I should have at least told Mrs. Glover what was going on. I probably should have turned down the job here, too. I really wasn’t ready to be working so soon after losing Aaron. That’s why I came today. I was hoping to talk to her.”
“Of course. I’ll tell her you’re here. And good luck.”
“Thank you.”
Talking to Rose had been hard, but not as terrible as Dani had expected. She hadn’t cried.
A few minutes later, she spilled the same story to the principal and apologized. Mrs. Glover asked if Dani was working, and she explained about Amanda’s tutoring program, but she also wondered if she could get on the district’s substitute teacher list. The pay sucked. The schedule was completely unpredictable. It was the worst kind of teaching job, but schools always needed subs. Dani needed to prove she could stand in front of a classroom and do the job.
Plus, sometimes a sub job led to a long-term substitute teaching position, which could lead to a full-time teaching job. It would be an option, and a woman who was taking care of herself always needed options.
Mrs. Glover agreed to put Dani on the list. Dani thanked her profusely. She felt like a huge weight had been lifted off her shoulders. She needed to show herself she could accomplish something on her own.
And the first thing she wanted to do was tell Mace.
As she pushed open the school doors to the outside, she heard someone call her name. Sherry Abbott, one of the fifth-grade teachers, was practically running to catch Dani.
“Hey, I heard you were back. How are you?”
That was odd. Sherry had never been this friendly. “Good. How are you?”
“I’m great. Did that gorgeous man, Mace, find you?”
She’d met Mace, too? “Yes, he did.”
“Good. I told him I heard you were working at that bar and offered to go with him to look for you there. He never called me back.”
“Oh. Sorry. He found me.”
“What do you know about him? Does he have a girlfriend?”
“Not that I know about.” Dani had never thought to ask. Would a girlfriend put up with all the time he’d spent trying to help Dani?
Sherry seemed to be so excited she was practically bouncing on her feet. “I’d love to see him again, but he didn’t give me his number.”
“Oh.”
“You could give it to me,” Sherry said.
“I really wouldn’t feel comfortable doing that. But I’ll tell him I saw you and that you asked about him, okay?”
“Do you really work at that bar? Does he come in there often? You could call me the next time he does.”
“He’s been there,” Dani said, “but he works so hard. He doesn’t have a lot of time, and he’s out of the country right now. I have no idea when he’ll be back.”
She’d never seen Sherry so excited about a guy, but then Mace did look awesome. He probably dated girls who looked like Sherry. That was a depressing thought. Equally depressing was the idea of Sherry starting to hang out at the bar to find him.
“Give me your phone,” Sherry said, “and I’ll type in my number.”
Dani reluctantly handed her phone over, watching carefully because she wouldn’t put it past Sherry to look up Mace’s number as she pretended to type her own into Dani’s phone.
The woman handed Dani’s phone back. “It was good to see you. Don’t forget to call me.”
Dani fumed. No way she would call.
How many women came onto a man like Mace in an average day? In a week?
How could any woman get involved with him and sign up for that?
* * *
Chapter Eighteen
Mace
He felt better after a day of attacking and rescuing, instead of playing hostage. Not as antsy, not as angry, not as caught up in the past. Two more days, and hopefully, they’d be home. Hopefully, Dani would still be there, and somehow he would convince her to stay instead of going back to the apartment she shared with that low-life Randy.
Mace texted her that evening, as he usually did. Made sure she was okay and still at his place. He should get ready to try to sleep, try to get another day closer to going back home to her.
But tonight something in her texts seemed off, and he wanted to hear her voice, in case it would help him figure out what she didn’t want to say.
He pressed a button to make the call and went straight to asking, “What’s wrong?”
“What do you mean what’s wrong? Nothing’s wrong.”
“Dani, I know something is. What happened? Are you okay?” He’d quiz Amanda the second he got off the phone with Dani.
“You’re asking because of your Spidey sense, Mace? Or is it a Superman thing, like x-ray vision through the phone?”
“Just tell me,” he said.
“Nothing bad. I went to the school where I taught last fall.”
“Why?”
“Because I wanted to talk to the principal. I told her why I was such a mess last fall, and asked if she’d consider me if she had any substitute teaching openings.”
“Why? I thought you liked Amanda. You said the tutoring program sounded great.”
“I do like her, and I love her idea.”
“So, why do the substitute teaching thing?”
“It’s just another option, Mace. If something happens, and I don’t do the tutoring job or it doesn’t work out, I’d need something else.”
“What do you think’s going to happen?”
“Who knows? Anything could happen,” she said. “That’s how I ended up working at the bar and living the way I have been.”
“Dani, I would never let anything like that happen to you again. You could ask me for anything, and I’d give it to you — ”
“Yeah. I heard all about that.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“I know you have a whole list of girls, and you’re the go-to guy whenever they have a problem. Their car breaks down. Their apartment’s flooded. Some guy is harassing them. Whatever, right?”
“Not, not whatever.”
“Women run to you with their problems. I get it.”
“I don’t think you do. I’m happy to change a tire, give someone a ride, teach a jerk who’s hassling a woman a lesson. Why wouldn’t I?”
“Right. Why wouldn’t you?”
“We’re talking in circles here. I’m not involved with anyone else right now, if that’s what you’re asking. I haven’t been in months, since before the last time I deployed.”
“I’m not going to be Muffin Girl. I won’t be one of those girls who keep showing up at your door, wanting more from you than you want from me.”
“You’ve never been anything like Muffin Girl. You never will be. And I don’t see how you could know what I want from you. I’m still trying to figure it out myself. All
I know right now is I hated leaving you, more than I’ve ever hated leaving any woman. I worry that I pushed you into that kiss. You might not be ready for anything like that with me — or anyone — right now, but I wanted it so bad. I worry that you regret it. I damned sure worry that you won’t be there when I get home.”
She was silent. It drove him crazier with every second that went by.
“Nothing to say to that, Dani?”
“I don’t want to be your fix-it project.”
“You’re not a project. You never have been to me, not even in the beginning. You were always more. I haven’t made that clear because I didn’t know if you were ready for anything like that, either. I know you still have questions about Aaron and doubts, and more trust issues than any woman I’ve ever met. But that’s okay.”
“It’s okay?”
“Yeah. I can wait. For you, I will. You can have all the time you need. I’ll be right here.”
“I don’t know what that means, Mace.”
“It means that, whatever comes next, we figure out together when you’re ready. It can mean anything we want it to mean.” He waited. Did she have any more doubts or questions? In case she did, he asked, “Anything else you want to tell me?”
“Apparently you made quite the impression at my old school. One of the fifth-grade teachers, Sherry Abbott, ran after me as I was leaving to ask about you. She said you two talked the last time you were there, but you hadn’t called her since then.”
“No, I haven’t called her. I have no plans to call her.”
“She asked for your number.”
“Please tell me you did not give my number to another woman.”
“No, but she’s probably going to show up at the bar looking for you.”
“You told her to find me at the bar?” He had never had one woman try so hard to push him toward another.
“No. She asked me if you hung out there. Was I supposed to lie to her?”
“Fine. If she shows up, you can watch me make it clear to her that I’m not interested.”
“If you want to,” she said.
He gave a quick, short laugh. “I like that little possessive thing you have going on. Gives me hope.”
“Like you need hope when it comes to women.”
“With you, I do.” He grinned, but then got serious. “Dani, anything you ever want to know, just ask. I’ll tell you anything.”
“When are you coming home?”
“A couple more days. Right now, I’m thinking four, tops. But don’t worry if the other guys get home before I do. I might have to make an extra stop or two.”
“More trouble somewhere, disguised as training?”
“What I’m doing isn’t disguised as anything. It is training. And if I end up here for a couple of extra days, it won’t be anything but meetings. Promise. Okay?”
“Okay.”
“I miss you.”
“I miss you, too,” she said.
* * *
Dani
He was coming home, and she was so antsy she couldn’t sleep. He’d left her with a kiss … Well, more like, demanding that she kiss him, although that didn’t sound right, either, because he’d left the choice up to her. But he’d made it clear that he’d wanted her to kiss him.
No one had ever asked her quite like that. In a low, sexy, demanding voice. Or tempted her that much.
She’d relived that moment a thousand times, when she wasn’t answering the door and dealing with another former girlfriend or a woman hoping to be a future girlfriend. She was still mad at herself for sounding so jealous over the phone with him.
But she had, and he’d seen it for what it was — possessiveness, when she had no right to feel that way.
Or did she?
She had no idea what would happen when he got home.
When she’d talked to him hours earlier, when he’d told her he’d be home either very late tonight or very early in the morning, he’d brought out that super-sexy, demanding voice again and said, Tell me you’ve been sleeping in my bed.
She shivered. She had spent every night in his bed, with her nose buried in his pillow, breathing in his fresh, clean scent, imagining his body naked between the sheets.
Did he sleep naked?
She sucked in a breath and asked herself what in the world she was doing waiting here for this man.
In his bed.
Because he’d told her that he hoped to find her there when he got home, which had sounded like another sexy demand.
What exactly did it imply? That he’d be climbing into the bed with her? That she wanted him to? And then what?
She knew he wouldn’t push for anything more than she was willing to give. So, the question was — what did she want? How far into this moving-on process was she?
She was lonely. She missed being held by someone, being close, being touched.
The idea of being held by him, being touched … She shivered, moaned, bit her lip to try to stay quiet. Her whole body felt hot and tingly, like it was begging for his touch.
She’d spent hours trying to figure out what to wear to his bed. It wasn’t like she had a lot to choose from. She’d been a poor college student for years, and now she was a poor waitress. Nice lingerie was not in her budget, and if she’d had it, she wasn’t sure if she’d have had the nerve to wear it. She really wasn’t a sexy lingerie girl.
She was a soft, well-worn t-shirt and jeans kind of girl. What did that girl wear to bed? Normally, a t-shirt. If she was in her apartment and worried about Randy, a t-shirt and a pair of sweat pants.
What would Muffin Girl wear to bed? Dani pushed that thought out of her head. She wouldn’t pretend to be anyone she wasn’t for any man. Standing in front of her meager clothing options, she frowned, then gave into the impulse to look in his closet.
There it was — a navy-blue t-shirt with the word NAVY scrawled across it, the letters bisected by a big anchor. That shirt and her prettiest pair of lace panties would do.
She took a shower, used a salt-scrub over every inch of her body, carefully shaved everything, moisturized all over, dried her hair and painted her fingernails and toes navy blue. She put clean sheets on his bed, except for the pillowcase that still smelled like him. She wouldn’t give that up.
Then she lay there, sleepless and nervous as could be. She stared at the clock and waited to hear him unlock the door. As it got later and later, she got up three times to brush her teeth. Nothing but fresh breath allowed here.
Had she forgotten anything? She hadn’t been this nervous since she’d gone to Greece to meet Aaron for the first time.
Dammit. She didn’t want to think about Aaron right now. She didn’t want to think about mistakes, doubts, fears, sadness, self-preservation, every reason she had not to be in Mace’s bed waiting for him, waiting to start … she didn’t know what with him.
He wasn’t Aaron. He’d told her that. She’d told herself that.
Nothing horrible was going to happen. She’d told herself that, too.
She was still scared.
* * *
Chapter Nineteen
Dani
She woke up to darkness, save for the light coming in through the curtains that Mace always left open, and a low, continuous rush of noise she couldn’t identify at first.
The shower, she finally realized.
Someone was showering in Mace’s bathroom.
Mace?
Either him or a burglar in need of a shower. She could get up and look for his duffle bag, his keys — maybe have him catch her in a t-shirt and a pair of lace panties, which might be way more than he expected even with his invitation to his bed.
Or she could stay here and wait to see what he did.
Her heart thumped heavily.
The water in the shower cut off.
She closed her eyes and imagined what he’d look like, all those long, lean lines and wet skin, wet hair, water running down in rivulets. She imagined drying him off with the utmost
care and attention to details, no part of his body left unattended. Imagined his heated gaze watching her as she did it, waiting, wanting.
The bathroom door opened, releasing a rush of steam that smelled of the ocean and him. The light inside the bathroom went off, and he stepped out, bare from the waist up, a long, loose pair of pajama pants hanging precariously low across his hips and abdomen.
Her mouth went dry. His gaze locked on her, every bit as heated as she’d imagined it would be. His lips spread into a wide, appreciative smile, and she quickly looked down to make sure she was covered.
She was, lying on her side facing him, in his t-shirt, the covers at her waist.
Too late to pretend to be asleep. It would be cowardly, anyway, and she tried not to be too much of a wimp these days, or too pathetic, or too sad.
He’d pushed her out of that rut, insisting she deserved more than getting by and wallowing in all the bad things that had happened to her. It had pissed her off, and she hadn’t been shy about letting him know that, but in the end, he’d been right.
And now, here they were.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up.”
“You didn’t? I thought … I mean, you asked me to be here.” Her face flamed. What had he meant?
“And I’m glad you are. I like thinking about you sleeping in my bed. I really like seeing you in my bed.”
Oh. Okay.
She was thinking of more than him just seeing her here, especially with him looking the way he did. Holy shit, he had a killer body. She’d known that. She just hadn’t ever seen this much of it, and it was perfect. He wasn’t all huge, bulging muscles. She didn’t care for that look. He was lean strength, sleek lines, smooth dents and swells, gorgeous tanned skin with little drops of water scattered here and there. Dark hair fanned across his chest, then narrowed into that wicked path down his abdomen and disappeared beneath the waistband of his thin cotton pants. She wanted to follow that path with her fingertips, her mouth.
When she managed to tear her gaze away from his cut abs and up to his face, he was chuckling and wearing a sexy smirk that told her he knew she’d been checking him out.