The Marine and Me

by Cathie Linz

  “See, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” Steve said as he escorted her back to her house next door.

  “Your parents are nice.”

  “Just like me.”

  She laughed.

  “What?” His expression was one of mock outrage. “You don’t think I’m nice?”

  “It’s not the first word that comes to mind.”

  “Really? What is?”

  Sexy. Tempting.

  “What’s the matter, cat got your tongue?”

  “Meow.”

  “Hey, nice sound effects,” he congratulated her.

  “That wasn’t me,” Chloe indignantly denied.

  “No?”

  “No.”

  “Meow. Meow. Meooooow.”

  “Whoever it is sounds hungry.” Steve hunkered down and looked around her garbage cans.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Recon. I have reason to believe there’s a kitten around here. There you are. Come on, little guy, come on out. I’m not going to hurt you.”

  The sound of Steve’s softly reassuring voice was almost her undoing.

  “That’s it, come on. It’s too cold out here for a little guy like you, huh?” Steve patiently coaxed the kitten to come closer. “We’ll take you inside and give you some dinner.”

  Chloe stood there frozen.

  She hadn’t had a pet since her parents had died. Her aunt had allergies and had handed Chloe’s beloved cat Magik over to the Humane Society. Chloe had vowed then and there she’d never love another animal the way she had that cat. The pain of losing her had been too hard to take, especially on the heels of losing both her parents.

  When she’d wept, Janis had accused her, “You’d think you loved that cat more than you did your mother and father.”

  More guilt. Chloe hadn’t cried again after that. Not when Janis could see her.

  But alone in her bed at night, sometimes the tears would seep from her eyes despite her best efforts to hold them back.

  “No, I…” Her throat was clogged with emotion. “No, I can’t have a kitten.”

  “Why not?”

  “I…I work.”

  “A lot of people work, and they have kittens.”

  “It should go to a family that will love it.”

  “You can’t love a kitten?”

  Chloe didn’t want to love a kitten. She didn’t want to love anyone. Things never worked out.

  Look what had happened with Brad. She thought she’d found Mr. Right.

  Talk about living in a fantasy world.

  At least with Steve, they were both on the same page. Bad luck in the romance department, wasn’t that the way he’d put it? What if luck had nothing to do with it? What if there was something intrinsically wrong with her? Something that made her impossible to love? Something lacking.

  Chloe blinked away the sudden threat of tears. Why was she getting so mushy and emotional?

  Looking at the little kitten in Steve’s arms, Chloe tried to be tough. She tried to harden her heart. She tried to be logical. To remain in control.

  Oh, who was she kidding?

  She couldn’t turn away from a tiny creature in need if her life depended on it. She knew firsthand too much about being lost and alone in the world. Sure, she’d had Janis present in her life, but not really, not emotionally.

  What if she ended up turning out like Janis? Wrapped up in her work, unable to relate on any kind of a personal level. Unable to love.

  That thought scared Chloe more than the threat of having her heart broken again.

  “Here, take her.” Steve handed the kitten over to her.

  Chloe took the purring but nervous animal and cuddled her against her breast. She could feel her defenses crumble.

  Talk about an “aha” moment. Standing there on her back steps, with Steve beside her, and a kitten purring against her, Chloe had a revelation.

  Wanda had told her about the turtles—about how they had to stick their necks out to move anywhere. They had to take risks. Or they went nowhere.

  That was Chloe. She’d been a turtle since Brad had cheated on her. It was time to stick her neck out and move on.

  “Give me your keys,” Steve said, “and I’ll open the back door.”

  “They’re in my coat pocket.”

  A minute later, Chloe found herself seated at her kitchen table, the kitten purring on her lap.

  “I’ll be back in a few minutes,” Steve told her before hightailing it out of her house.

  Great. Chloe had just reached a possibly life-altering realization and the man partly responsible for it takes off as if his feet were on fire.

  “I’ve still got you, though, hmm?” The kitten nuzzled closer. “You’re such a little sweetie, aren’t you? Maybe that’s what I should call you. Sweetie. That’s kind of sappy and sentimental, isn’t it?” She scratched the kitten under its chin. “Too bad. I could name you something literary like Shakespeare, but I don’t feel like it. Or you could be Sweetie Shakespeare.” The kitten licked Chloe’s hand. “You like that name, huh?”

  Totally entranced, Chloe just sat there getting acquainted with the kitten. She’d have to go out and get a few cat supplies before too much longer. But that would mean moving the kitten who’d just fallen asleep on Chloe’s lap, its little chin resting on Chloe’s wrist.

  The kitten blinked sleepily when Steve showed up at the back door with a large shopping bag in hand.

  “Hey little guy, how’s it going?”

  “This kitten is not a guy. She’s a girl.”

  “Not surprising. Another female who finagles her way into my heart.” He rubbed the kitten’s ear, making her purr ten times louder.

  “You like animals?”

  “Sure, who doesn’t?”

  Brad didn’t. Janis didn’t. Chloe had tried to keep her distance, but who could resist a little face like Sweetie’s?

  Chloe had forced herself to keep her distance for many years now. Sure, she donated money to the Anti-Cruelty Society or the Humane Society to help animals, but doing that had never required making an emotional commitment. She only hoped she was up to the task. Meanwhile, she was trying not to think about the fact that caring about something meant giving it the power to hurt you.

  Instead she focused her attention on Steve. “So what’s in the bag?”

  “Supplies.” He took them out to show her. “Chow.” He set the bag of kitten food on her kitchen table. “A cat dish and a kitty litter box complete with a pooperscooper. Last but not least, kitty litter.”

  “You went to go buy all this?”

  “Well, sure. Where did you think I was going?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “I told you I’d be back in a few minutes.”

  She nodded. “I know, but…”

  “I already told you that I say what I mean and I mean what I say.”

  She nodded again, nervously rubbing her chin against the top of Sweetie’s head.

  “You think I’d dump a kitten on you and walk out?”

  Chloe didn’t know what to think. She only knew what she was feeling…. Entirely too much for this Marine with the sexy grin and an apparent heart of gold.

  Chapter Eight

  “So what have you named her?” Steve was asking Chloe.

  “Sweetie Shakespeare.”

  “I don’t know.” He gazed down doubtfully at the little black kitten with a heart-shaped splash of white under her chin. “She doesn’t look at all like Shakespeare. You sure you don’t want to call her Harley?”

  “After your motorcycle?”

  “I’ve told you, it’s not a mere motorcycle, it’s a work of art.”

  “I know, I know. With a sweet pushcart engine—”

  “Pushrod!”

  He sounded so insulted she just grinned. It was fun to be the one pushing his buttons for a change. “Right.”

  “She still shows no respect,” Steve complained to Sweetie. “After all I’ve done for her.”

&n
bsp; “Yes, you have a tough life,” Chloe returned in the same teasing manner. “You’re so underappreciated.”

  “You’ve got that right.”

  “No one understands you.”

  “Right again.”

  “Or how wonderful you are.”

  “Affirmative.”

  Acting on pure impulse, Chloe reached out to place the palm of her hand against his cheek. His skin was warm and slightly rough with a hint of stubble. “Thank you for everything.”

  Her hand slid down his cheek to his crisp white shirt. Grinning, she took a handful of the material to tug him closer so she could kiss his cheek. But somehow, she miscalculated something and her lips landed on the corner of his mouth.

  Steve turned his head. Their kiss was for real now, no longer a teasing show of appreciation but a heated exploration of sensual pleasure. His mouth brushed hers with bold yet reverent strokes, coaxing her lips to part. The moment they did, his tongue joined hers in a slick reunion, creating an erotic dalliance of sultry taste and touch.

  Murmuring his approval, he explored every curve and corner of her mouth, pausing in between to gently catch her bottom lip between his teeth, drawing it into his mouth to suck and nibble until her sighs became moans of excitement.

  Yeow!

  Sweetie’s yodel of disapproval took Chloe by surprise, making her immediately back away.

  “I’m feeling much more appreciated now,” Steve noted with a grin. “Maybe not by Sweetie at the moment, but by her new owner.”

  Chloe looked away. “You never really own a cat.”

  “Sounds like you have some experience with cats.”

  “I had one when I was a kid.”

  “Then why were you so resistant about giving Sweetie a home?”

  “I’d rather not talk about it.”

  Since her voice was strained with some unnamed emotion, Steve didn’t push her. Instead he watched as she bent her head and focused her attention on the kitten.

  You’d think that the more time he spent with Chloe, the less he’d be intrigued by her. But that wasn’t turning out to be the case. Instead he continued to find her fascinating. And that wasn’t usual for him.

  In the beginning, he’d admired her spunk and she’d made him laugh. But now he was noticing other stuff—like her legs, or the way her face reflected her emotions, or the sparkle in her eyes when she laughed, or even the sound of her laughter. And that made him a bit nervous.

  Sure it was okay to notice legs, that was almost an automatic response from a healthy male.

  But little stuff like the sound of her laughter? That indicated what? Infatuation? That wasn’t a word or a concept that had been in his vocabulary since he’d left puberty behind.

  So what was going on here? Steve wasn’t sure and he didn’t like not being sure. Had he ever noticed the sound of Gina’s laugh? Again, he wasn’t sure.

  Marines weren’t meant to have doubts. Steve had been trained to determine the best possible outcome given any situation and to prepare for the worst.

  He and Chloe were supposed to be comrades in arms in the bad luck romance department. Nothing more than that.

  So why was he so shaken by their kiss?

  Marines were meant to be stirred, not shaken.

  Not that Steve wanted her stirring any kind of emotional feelings within him. He’d already been caught in the crosshairs of a deceitful female who’d torn his heart out and stomped it flat.

  Chloe didn’t seem like the heart-stomping type, but there were times when it was better to be safe than to be sorry, and he had a strong feeling this was one of those times.

  So he made a quick goodbye and headed out the door, where freedom beckoned and complicated sentimental stuff like kittens and females with glasses could be left behind.

  The next afternoon, Steve told himself he hadn’t been a wimp for taking off last night and leaving Chloe with the kitten. After all, he’d provided plenty of supplies for them.

  It wasn’t as if he’d been afraid to deal with Chloe after kissing her, right? So why was he sitting here in Pat’s Tavern, downing a bottle of beer in the middle of the day.

  The sound of his cell phone prevented him from answering that question.

  “Where are you?” Striker demanded.

  Fed up with life in general, Steve growled, “None of your business.”

  “Which means you’re someplace you shouldn’t be.”

  “Wrong. There’s no reason why I shouldn’t be about to order a cheeseburger from Pat’s Tavern.”

  “You’re in a bar? Okay, what did the librarian do to you?”

  “She didn’t do anything. Can’t a guy eat a simple meal without getting hassled?”

  “No.”

  “I’ve got to go. My food is getting cold.”

  Steve switched his phone off and reached for the menu. Since he’d told his brother he was eating a cheeseburger, he felt the desire to eat one now.

  Fifteen minutes later, his made-to-order burger arrived. So did Striker.

  Steve looked at his brother in surprise. “What are you doing here? How did you get here?”

  “The King Oil jet, and I’m here in Chicago for a business meeting. Thought I’d drop by and say hi since I was in the neighborhood. That burger looks good.” Striker waved to the waitress. “I’ll have one of those, and one of those, too.” He pointed to the beer and the burger.

  The woman, well in her fifties, grinned and beamed at Striker.

  His older brother had always had that effect on females. Didn’t matter what their age was. He got to them.

  Not that Striker didn’t have his dark side. As a former Force Recon Marine, he was accustomed to keeping secrets. Given that fact, he shouldn’t be nosing into other people’s business.

  Steve told him so.

  “Hey, as your oldest brother, I do have certain duties that I have to perform. One of them is checking up on you.”

  “I’m almost thirty. I’m a captain in the United States Marine Corps. I do not need checking up on.”

  Striker was totally unimpressed. “So what did the little librarian do that’s got your shorts in a knot?”

  “She’s not a little librarian.”

  “Ah, you’re defending her.” Striker shook his head with mocking pity. “You’re worse off than I thought.”

  “Why didn’t you give me a heads-up that you were coming to Chicago?”

  Striker grinned. “I didn’t want you taking off on that Harley of yours before I got here.”

  “Yeah, right. Like you scare me. A business executive.”

  “Hey, I can still take you with one hand tied behind my back.”

  “Oh yeah? Put your money where your mouth is.” Steve shoved his plate aside and bent his elbow on the table, ready to arm wrestle his oldest brother like they had as kids.

  Striker placed two twenty-dollar bills on the table and the match was on. Unfortunately two seconds later their intense concentration was interrupted by the unexpected arrival of Patrick.

  “Did you talk to her?” Patrick’s booming voice distracted Steve just long enough for Striker to pin his arm to the table.

  “Gotcha!”

  “Did I interrupt something?” Patrick belatedly asked.

  “I was just teaching my baby brother a lesson,” Striker noted, before stealing several of the French fries off Steve’s plate.

  “You’re Steve’s brother?” Patrick’s bushy white eyebrows rose.

  “Affirmative,” Striker replied. “And you are?”

  “He’s the owner of this place and the pizzeria next door. He’s also interested in our grandmother,” Steve replied on Patrick’s behalf. To Patrick, he said, “Yes, I did talk to my grandmother.”

  “And?” Patrick demanded.

  “And my grandmother still appears to hold a grudge against you for that judging thing.”

  Patrick’s face fell. “That was months ago.”

  “Understood. But it involved her kolachkis. She’s ver
y sensitive about her baked goods.”

  “Time out here,” Striker ordered. He turned to face Patrick. “You’re interested in our grandmother? In what way?”

  Patrick rolled his eyes before pinning his gaze on Striker. “I already had this conversation with your brother.”

  Striker turned to Steve, who took great pleasure in knowing more than his brother.

  “You’re not gonna tell me, are you?” Striker said.

  “You’ve got that right.”

  “Not a problem. I can read between the lines. Go on,” Striker invited Steve and Patrick. “Proceed as if I weren’t even here. I won’t say a word.”

  “What can I do to make it up to her?” Patrick demanded.

  Steve shrugged. “I have no idea.”

  “She’s your grandmother. You should know what I can do.”

  “I’m not used to playing matchmaker for her. Usually she’s the one doing that with the rest of the family.”

  “She’s got a good heart. I know she’s involved with a lot of things at our church.”

  “You both attend the same church?”

  Patrick nodded.

  “Well, that’s a start.”

  “Not really. We’ve been going to the same church for years.”

  “Why didn’t you ask her out before this?”

  “She was still grieving for her husband.”

  Steve nodded. “She loved Granddad a lot. They were married for fifty years.”

  “My wife passed away ten years ago. We were only married forty years.”

  “I can’t imagine what that must be like,” Steve noted.

  Patrick shook his head sadly. “So many marriages break up these days.”

  “Half of them. The rate is even higher in the Marine Corps, I think.”

  “But your parents have a good marriage.”

  “Yeah, they do.”

  “And your dad was in the Marines for many years, right?”

  “Right.”

  “So you should know firsthand that it can work out.”

  “How do you know so much about my parents?”

  “Like I said, Wanda and I go to the same church. The grapevine is very good.”

  “That’s an understatement,” Steve noted dryly. “I’ve seen intel that wasn’t as efficient.”