by Elle James
Beth sucked in a deep breath and opened the door.
Dawg had almost given up when Beth’s door swung open.
She stood there in a little black dress, holding her shoes in her hand.
He grinned, his heart soaring at the sight of her standing there, even more beautiful than the night before. “I thought you’d changed your mind.”
“I almost did,” she admitted.
“But you didn’t.” He stepped back. “Ready?”
She started through the door.
“Uh,” he frowned. “You might want to put on your shoes before we leave.”
For a moment, she stared at him as if confused.
“Your shoes?” He nodded to the heels she had dangling from her fingertips.
“Do you like them?” She looked down at her hands and frowned. “Oh. Right.” Her cheeks reddened, and she leaned over to slip her feet into the strappy heels. When she had them on, she glanced up. “I’m ready now.”
When he held out his hand, she placed hers in his.
It was warm, unlike so many other women whose hands he’d held. He liked that about her. And he liked her smile and the way she wore dresses and did her hair. Hell, he liked everything about her.
“All day long, I’ve been looking forward to tonight.” He pulled her hand through the crook of his arm. “I hope you like Italian food.”
“I do,” she said.
“Anything in particular?” he asked.
“Just about everything.” Beth laughed. “I haven’t met an Italian dish I didn’t like.”
“Then I hope you like chicken parmesan.”
“One of my favorites,” she said.
“Perfect,” he patted her hand on his arm and waited while she pulled her door closed behind her.
For a moment, he thought he saw someone else inside her apartment, but the door closed too soon for him to be certain.
“Where are you taking me?” Beth asked.
His shoulders pushed back, and he lifted his chin. “To a place that makes the best chicken parmesan around.”
“And where might that be?”
“My place.”
She frowned. “Your place?”
“If you don’t mind a homecooked meal… If you had your heart set on going to a restaurant, we can do that instead. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.” He stood in front of her apartment. “I just thought it would be nice to have homecooked one more time before I deployed, and I’d get to share my time with you and with my dog.”
Beth shook her head. “Stop.”
He lifted his hand and cupped her cheek. “Please don’t say you’ve changed your mind.”
She covered his hand with hers. “Not at all. In fact, I’d prefer a homecooked meal. I don’t cook often enough, and I got word last night that I’m deploying, too. The thought of months of MREs or mess hall food makes my stomach churn. I’d love a homecooked meal I don’t have to make.”
Dawg blew out a breath. “Thank goodness. If you hadn’t wanted to eat it, I’d have had to give it away or put it out with the trash.”
“Oh, please.” Beth looked at him in horror. “Don’t waste it. I love chicken parmesan.” She took his arm again. “Lead the way. I’m practically drooling.”
He laughed and walked with her to his truck. “You had me worried for a moment.”
“I had myself worried. I wasn’t sure I was ready for a real date after breaking my engagement. But when I got the news I was shipping out soon, I thought…” she shrugged, “why the hell not?”
“I should be glad you got orders?” He chuckled and then frowned. “I’m not so sure. Do you know where you’re going?”
She shook her head. “Not yet. I get my briefing in the morning and fly out tomorrow night.”
“Wow. And I thought our missions were secretive.” He covered her hand with his. “I hope they aren’t sending you somewhere terribly dangerous.”
“You and me both. But it’s a gig I signed up for. I get orders, I go.”
“How often have you deployed?”
“I’ve only gone once before to Afghanistan.” She climbed into the passenger seat of his truck.
Dawg rounded the front of the truck and got in. “That’s right. We were there at the same time as you and Nora. That’s when Rucker met Nora.”
Beth nodded. “They did meet there. Funny how small the world is.”
“Especially in the Army,” he agreed.
The drive to his house was accomplished quickly.
When they rolled into his driveway, he shifted into park, cut the engine and got out, his pulse hammering as soon as his feet hit the ground. He had Beth at his house where he could charm her with his culinary skills and his cute dog. He didn’t dare to hope it would lead to more than good conversation and maybe…just maybe…another kiss.
He wouldn’t mind if the evening culminated in more than a kiss, but he wouldn’t rush her. She deserved better treatment than that.
Dawg hurried around to open the truck door for her and helped her down and into his arms.
It felt natural. For a moment, he held her there, and then stepped back. “Sorry. I couldn’t help myself.”
“No worries,” she murmured, her cheeks flushing a pretty pink.
“Chewy will be happy to see you. I thought about having Mrs. Doherty watch him tonight, but I couldn’t. I’m going to miss him a lot while I’m gone.”
“I’m glad he’s here,” Beth said. “He’s good company.
Dawg unlocked the front door and waved a hand for Beth to enter.
Chewy was there to greet her, jumping up against her legs.
She bent to scratch his ears and sweep a hand across his back. “How’s my little guy?” she murmured.
“If you two can entertain yourselves, I want to put the noodles on the stove. The chicken is in the oven warming. I finished cooking it before I came to get you.”
She straightened, smiling. “You really did put a lot of thought and effort into this meal, didn’t you?”
He lifted a shoulder and let it drop. “I like to cook, especially when the food is appreciated. If you’d told me you didn’t like Italian, we’d have gone out to eat, and I wouldn’t have mentioned the chicken parmesan.”
“In that case, I’m so glad I told you I liked Italian.”
“Give me a few minutes,” he said. “I’ll have it all on the table.”
“Let me help.”
“I’d appreciate it.” He led the way. “It’s just the last-minute things.”
Beth followed him into the kitchen.
Dawg turned on a gas burner beneath the pot of water he’d set out for cooking the noodles. “If you want to get the salad out of the refrigerator, you can set it on the table.” He pulled a long baguette out of a plastic wrapper, laid it on a cutting board and started slicing.
Beth retrieved the bowl of salad from the refrigerator and placed it on the table. When she returned, she found a stick of butter in the fridge and set it on the counter beside the bread. “Want me to slice, butter and sprinkle garlic salt on the bread?”
He stopped halfway through and handed her the serrated knife he’d been using. “For the record, you don’t have to help. I invited you out to dinner, not to cook dinner.”
“For the record…” she said with a cocked eyebrow, “I don’t mind. I like feeling useful.”
While he poured noodles into boiling water, she sliced the bread, then added butter and garlic.
Fifteen minutes later the noodles were ready, and the garlic bread was toasted. They each filled their plates with spaghetti noodles, marinara, chicken parmesan and garlic bread and carried them to the table.
Dawg opened a bottle of merlot and poured it into two wine glasses. “I had to buy these today. I don’t need goblets for beer.”
Beth laughed. “This is very much a bachelor’s pad.” She lifted her wine glass. “To you, for providing the wine and the glass to drink it in.” She lifted her glass to him. “And
thank you for a last home-cooked meal before I have to leave.”
He held his glass up to her. “To you, for giving me your last night before deploying and for being flexible on where we’d go to eat.”
They sipped the wine then took their seats.
Chewy curled up on his bed nearby and snoozed while Beth and Dawg talked over their dinner.
Dawg couldn’t remember laughing so much or enjoying someone else’s company as much.
Beth seemed to enjoy it as well, chuckling at his jokes and sharing stories about some of her patients during deployment. When they were done eating, they sat longer, talking about anything and everything or nothing at all.
Beth helped him clean the table and the dishes, rinsing them off to place them in the dishwasher. They bumped shoulders often, making Dawg hyper-aware of her in that little black dress.
When they were done, he hung the dishtowel on the oven door. “Let me make you a cup of tea. Or would you prefer more wine?”
“Tea, please,” she said.
He reached for the tea kettle, filled it with water and set it on the stove.
“Where are the mugs?” she asked.
“I’ll get them. You can have a seat in the living room.”
She nodded. “Good. I want to get out of these shoes. They’re killing me.” Beth bent to slip the straps off the back of her heels and stepped out of the high heels. “They’re pretty but not practical.”
“Get comfortable,” he said. “I’ll be right in.”
A few minutes later, he carried the mugs of tea into the living room and set one down on the coffee table, the other in her hand. “Careful, it’s hot.”
He settled on the sofa beside her, placed his mug on the coffee table, kicked off his shoes and settled back. “I doubt we’ll have air conditioning where we’re going. I have to enjoy it while I can.” He leaned back his head on the cushion and closed his eyes.
Peeking between his eyelids, he studied Beth with her sandy-blond hair and blue eyes.
She laid her tea on the table, leaned back beside Dawg and reached for his hand.
Dawg gladly held her hand as they lounged together on the couch for a few long minutes. He didn’t dare make any advances. If she wanted more, she’d have to make the first move.
Hell, Dawg prayed she would, because his body was already on fire and burning to take her into his arms. They sat so closely together…yet too far apart, and he wasn’t quite sure how to bridge the gap, or if she’d be receptive to doing so.
For several minutes, Beth lay against the couch cushion, her eyes closed.
After a while, he whispered, “Are you asleep?”
She chuckled without opening her eyes. “No. I’m debating getting up to leave or snuggling with you here on the sofa. But it’s been too long since I’ve been on a date, and I just feel…awkward.” She turned her head toward him, stared into his eyes and gave him a crooked grin.
“Let me help you decide.” He slid an arm behind her neck and pulled her into his arms. “Better?” he whispered into her ear.
“Mmm. Much.” She turned a little on her side and laid her cheek against his chest. “I like this.”
He sighed and tightened his arm around her shoulders. “Me, too.”
“Is it just because we’re both about to deploy, and we’re clinging to the comforts of home that we’re feeling the need for contact with another human?”
He laughed. “Comfort is not what I’m clinging to right now,” he said. “Excitement? Yes. Comfort? No way.”
She leaned her head back and frowned. “Excitement?”
“Sweetheart, I’ve been dying to spend time with you since that last barbecue, but you didn’t even know I was alive.”
“I do now,” she said softly, her hand curling into his T-shirt. “I was too focused on not making eye contact with any of the eligible men at that event…like the hail and farewell. I didn’t think I was ready to jump back into the dating pool.”
“And now?” he said softly.
“I’m still not jumping back in,” she assured him. “Somehow, I don’t think going out with you is the same thing.”
“Because you don’t see me as date material?” he asked, his chest tightening.
“No. Because you don’t make me feel like a teen on her first date. You make me feel—”
Dawg stiffened. “If you say comfortable, we’re calling it a night, and I’m taking you home.”
Her chuckled warmed his chest. “No, not comfortable…but like I’ve come home to a very nice place. A place that stirs my heart and my blood. I don’t feel like I have to jump through hoops to impress you.”
“You don’t,” he said. “Well, maybe just one hoop might be fun.” He held up his hand. “Just kidding. I should be jumping through hoops for you.”
“You did. You made dinner for us.” Her grin spread across her face. “And it was amazing.” She tipped her head up. “Thank you.” She leaned close and pressed her lips against his.
Dawg didn’t miss this opportunity. Not this time. He tightened his hold around her and crushed his lips against hers.
When she opened to him, he dove between her teeth and caressed her tongue with his.
Cupping the back of her neck with the palm of his hand, he deepened the kiss, loving the way she tasted of Italian seasoning and garlic.
Her fingers slid across his chest and downward. When she reached the hem of his T-shirt, she shoved it upward and smoothed a hand over his naked chest.
He cover her hand with his, slowing her exploration, his breath hitching in his chest. “Are you sure you want to go this route?”
She nodded. “Yes.”
“Once you get my engine revving, I don’t know how easy it’ll be to shut it down.”
Beth laughed. “Really? You’re going to use a mechanical analogy?”
He smiled down into her eyes. “What analogy would you rather I use?”
She shrugged. “Maybe an animal reference.”
“Like a mouse or platypus?” he teased.
“Don’t be silly. More like a lion or tiger.”
“Oh, I get it, you want something that could hurt you, like a lobster.” He tilted his head. “Once you get my claws snapping, I don’t know if I can…” He laughed out loud. “No. I can’t do that. It loses any kind of sexiness when you have hard shell claws involved.”
She drummed her fingers on his chest. “Go back to the engine analogy.”
“As I was saying…” He gathered her closer, tipped her chin up and bent his head, his lips hovering over hers. “Once you get my engine revved, I’m not sure I can power back. You’ll have to be certain this is what you want.”
She placed a finger over his lips. “Stop talking and start living.”
She didn’t have to tell him twice.
Chapter 4
Beth rolled over onto him, straddling his hips, her knees pressing into the couch cushions. Now that she’d started down this path, she didn’t want to stop. “I don’t want to miss anything about this night or the possibilities that it holds. I leave tomorrow. I need something to hold me over until I get back.”
Dawg rested his hand on her hips. “I have protection, but it’s in the bedroom.”
Beth drew in a deep breath, threw back her head and let the air out slowly. Then she climbed off his lap, held out her hand and pulled him to his feet. “Last one there has to give the other a back rub.” Before he could get off the couch, she was halfway down the hall, giggling as she went.
He caught up with her as she reached his bedroom door. Dawg scooped her into his arms and carried her the rest of the way into his room and set her on her feet. “Now is your time to back out. If you don’t, all bets are off.”
“I’m willing to take that wager and raise you one.” She pushed his T-shirt up over his head and tossed it against the wall. Then her hands rose to the back of her dress her fingers curling around the zipper tab. She drew it downward, ever so slowly.
Dawg br
ushed her hands aside and finished lowering the zipper down her back and pushed the straps of the dress off her shoulders.
The fabric slipped over her hips and dropped to the floor. She stood in nothing but a pair of black, lace, thong panties, her breasts naked, exposed to his gaze. Rather than cover them, she pushed her shoulders back and tipped her chin up.
“Beautiful.” Dawg groaned and captured her butt cheeks in his hands, lifting her up.
She wrapped her legs around his waist and lowered herself over his hard erection, encased in blue denim jeans.
He groaned again.
Beth liked that he was so hard with his desire for her. It made her feel powerful. She cupped his cheeks between her palms and leaned down to press a kiss to his lips, opening to let in his tongue.
He swept past her teeth, deepening the kiss until she was breathless and hungry for so much more.
Dawg laid her on the edge of the bed, her legs dangling over the side, and ripped his shirt over his head.
His chest was as broad and muscular as she’d imagined. Several scars added character to the smooth, tanned skin.
Beth’s pulse quickened. She sat up and reached for the button on his jeans, pushing it loose. Then she gripped the tab on his zipper and pulled it downward slowly, thinking boxers or briefs?
When his cock sprang free, she gasped.
Commando!
She pushed the jeans over his hips and down his legs.
Dawg shoved them the rest of the way down and stepped free. He stood before her naked and stunningly sexy.
Her breath caught and held in her throat as she reached out to cup his erection in her hand.
Slowly, she moved her fingers over his hard length, loving the velvety smoothness over the rock-hard strength of his desire. Tracing the tip of her finger over the head, she bent to touch her tongue to the tip where a drop of moisture glistened.
His body stiffened, and he gripped her hair in his hands.
Slowly, savoring every moment, every taste and texture, Beth closed her mouth over his cock and drew him in.
Dawg threw back his head, his hands tightening in her hair, urging her to take more.
She sheathed him with her lips until he bumped against the back of her throat. For a long moment, she held him there, flicking her tongue around his girth. Then she slid her hands around his backside and urged him out of her and back in, establishing a pace he picked up.