by Cat Miller
“If you don’t stop scowling at the poor woman she’s going to run screaming from the building. It’s no wonder she’s so quiet. I can’t decide if you want to shoot her or fuck her,” Luc said from his side.
“There’s something off there, and I’m trying to figure it out,” Rourke explained.
“Do you think your super SEAL vision is going to look through that dress and find a villain hiding underneath?” Luc teased him. “You’ve been on duty for too long, man.”
“You don’t think it’s odd that a wealthy person who isn’t a politician smiling for the cameras is serving food at the soup kitchen?” Rourke asked.
Luc gave him a sardonic grin.
“Alright, so you’re wealthy. That’s different. This is your hometown, your church.” Rourke had to smile. Luc was teasing him, and it was good to see the old Luc in the sober man he’d become since the passing of his grandmother.
“Very wealthy,” Luc added. “I could make a donation, which I have, or pay people to do this, but I’m still here doing it myself.”
“Really? Very wealthy, huh?” Rourke knew things were looking up for the hotel and casino since Luc took over the business, but he’d assumed the renovations would have Luc strapped.
“Let’s just say I’ve made some sage . . . investments.” Luc looked away, avoiding Rourke’s eyes. “The woman is shy. That’s all. She doesn’t know us. Maybe this is her hometown, too. We don’t know her at all, but the pastor does. That’s good enough for me.” Luc shrugged. “There’s something vaguely familiar about her. I’ve seen her around somewhere. I just can’t put my finger on where.”
Looking away like that and quickly changing the subject was a tell of Luc’s. Luc had just tipped his hand, just like an amateur at the card table. It was a sure sign that Luc didn’t feel right about whatever investments he’d made that brought in so much capital.
Rourke was too distracted by Jennifer’s sweet ass as she bent to return pans to their home on the shelf to pursue that line of thought. Damn, that woman had curves in all the right places. Her ass was high and tight. Her breasts were generous handfuls but not overly large. When she bent over like that, he admired hips a man could wrap his hands around and . . .
She turned around and caught Rourke staring. Rourke looked away. Pretending he hadn’t just been fantasizing about holding her steady while he fucked her hard and fast. Jennifer would be gorgeous in nothing but those heels with all that golden hair flowing down her naked back. He’d like to have those heels up around his ears.
Damn, it had been far too long since he’d had a woman if he couldn’t keep is head around one beautiful and very distracting woman for longer than a few minutes without thinking about sex. Every time she nervously licked those full lips, his dick twitched. He was an operator. A Navy SEAL, for the love of God. He should not be this distracted by those muscular calves. Rourke was willing to bet her thighs would be just as toned when she wrapped them around his neck while he . . .
“And now you look like you’d like to eat her whole,” Luc said next to him.
Rourke cleared his throat and discreetly adjusted his interested dick. He didn’t respond to the comment. There was no sense in denying the truth, He would eat her up if she’d let him, his suspicions be damned. The woman was an awful temptation.
Dolce finished wiping down the tables and came to help Jennifer put away the last of the dishes. They were just about done. It was finally time to get a good night’s sleep, but Rourke suddenly didn’t want to go home to his empty bed any longer. He was trying to think of a reason to talk to the shy beauty.
“We’re all done here,” Dolce said from the other side of the kitchen.
“Good,” Luc said and looked at his watch. “I’m meeting someone for dinner.”
Rourke knew what that expression meant. Luc was meeting someone for more than dinner. Luc was going to burn off some of that restless energy buzzing around him. He’d make some woman very thankful, indeed, right before he dismissed her. Luc was not the relationship type. He was very clear about that, but the women he took to his bed too frequently walked away shocked that he hadn’t wanted more than one evening.
“Can I ride home with you?” Dolce asked Luc. “I got a cab here. I’d like to find my own turkey dinner and enjoy what’s left of my day off on the sofa with a good book.”
Dolce had a permanent suite at Luc’s hotel. Luc said it was a benefit of her employment, but none of his other pit bosses lived in. The truth was that Luc was taking care of their little sister without making her feel beholden to him. Rourke, for one, was glad Luc was watching out for her when Rourke couldn’t.
“Of course, I’m ready when you are,” he said to Dolce before turning to Rourke. “Would you like a ride to your place? I’m sure you’re exhausted. Thank you for coming straight from the boat to help.” Luc smirked.
“The boat?” Dolce asked with a laugh.
“Yes. Apparently, Rourke’s a sailor. So much so that he even takes a boat to the desert.” Luc explained to Dolce. Rourke wanted to punch Luc in his smart mouth, and the jerk knew it. “Go get your bag sailor. This ship is sailing,” Luc said to Rourke.
“No,” Rourke replied too loudly. He moderated his tone before continuing. “I, ah, thought I would catch up with Pastor Davis and see if he needs anything done around here while I’m home. You know, so I know when to come back.”
Luc raised an eyebrow and struggled unsuccessfully not to smile when his eyes quickly drifted in the direction of the hot blonde trying to look busy on the other side of the kitchen. “Alright, after you’ve had time to unwind, I’d like to speak to you about a business matter. I have a proposition for you. Call when you have time to get together. If the pastor can spare you, that is.”
Rourke pulled his attention away from Jennifer again to give Luc a questioning look. What business matter could Luc possible want to discuss with him? The only business Rourke knew was the business end of a Mk-16.
“We’ll talk after you’ve cleared your head a bit,” Luc insisted, unwilling to say more.
The direction of Rourke’s thoughts must have been clear. His head was, indeed, foggy. It was clouded with a mixture of lust and exhaustion, and Luc knew it.
Dolce looked back and forth between Jennifer, who appeared to be ignoring them as she hung her apron on a peg by the door, and Rourke, who was trying not to watch her do it. She’d also caught on to Rourke’s interest in the gorgeous blonde socialite. She smiled and shook her head before stepping into Rourke and wrapped her arms around his waist for another hug.
“Call me after you get some rest. We need to catch up. I’ve missed you so much.” She squeezed him even tighter.
“I missed you, too,” he whispered in her ear and kissed her temple.
Rourke looked up to find Jennifer watching them. She turned away as if embarrassed to be caught staring. Jennifer was a shy little thing, but he could tell she was interested in one of them because he kept finding her covertly trying to check them out. Was she interested in Rourke or Luc? He didn’t like that idea at all. Jennifer looked like Luc’s type: gorgeous and manicured. On the other hand, though, Jennifer was too timid for Luc. The man didn’t pursue women. They fell in his lap. Rourke found himself giving Luc a glare he hadn’t earned.
Dolce smiled up at him with shining eyes. “I’m so glad you’re home.”
“Me too.” Rourke gave her another squeeze. “I’ll call in a day or two.”
Luc appeared behind Dolce and helped her into her jacket. They left through the rear door after stopping to thank Jennifer for helping with the holiday meal.
Once Luc and Dolce were gone, Rourke was left alone in an awkward silence with Jennifer. He gave her a smile meant to reassure. She returned it with a bashful upturning of those full, luscious lips and a flutter of long eyelashes. It wasn’t a flirty come-get-me-big-boy look. No, she was just returning his gesture. She seemed to breathe a sigh of relief and relax considerably once Luc and Dolce had gone.
Luc could be overwhelming, and he tended to treat everyone around as if they were his employees. Maybe Luc’s forceful presence was what had her on edge. The change in her demeanor reassured Rourke that Jennifer had no personal interest in Luc.
“Do you help around the church often?” he asked as a conversation starter and strode to grab a broom to begin sweeping the already clean floor. If Jennifer thought he was flirting, she might leave before he had a chance to find out if she was single or if a man had bought that dress to show off her shapely legs. A woman as affluent as Jennifer might not be interested in a military man.
“I do.” She didn’t elaborate.
“I do, too, when I’m home. I grew up in this neighborhood. I went to Sunday school and even daycare here in the church.” He kept sweeping nonexistent dirt while she watched.
“It’s a beautiful church.” She looked around wistfully as if seeing the sanctuary and all of its holy wonder. “Pastor Davis has been so . . .” She paused and looked away as if rethinking what she was about to say. “He’s been very grateful for my contribution to the church.” She finished.
Pastor Davis backed into the kitchen carrying a large box awkwardly. Rourke put down the broom and hurried to relieve the pastor of his heavy load.
“Rourke, my boy! I haven’t had the chance to tell you how pleased I am to see you home in one piece! I’m so glad I didn’t miss you. I know there are times you get a break and blow through town without time to stop and see this old man.”
“I’m happy to be home, sir. Where would you like this?”
The pastor gestured toward the storage room in the rear of the kitchen. “I have a load of donations that were dropped off upstairs yesterday. I haven’t had the time to bring them down with the Thanksgiving preparations under way. People are very generous this time of year.”
Rourke carried the box into the storeroom and returned quickly.
“I can help carry down the donations,” Jennifer offered.
Pastor Davis looked to Jennifer. “Oh, my dear. I’m glad you’re still here. You are so very generous with your time. Are you sure you don’t want to get . . . home?”
No! Rourke hadn’t a chance to talk to her yet. Maybe now that Luc was gone, Jennifer would relax enough to chat. Was it Rourke’s imagination or had the pastor hesitated at the end of his question?
“I don’t have much else to do. I really don’t mind,” she responded, and her cheeks flushed with color.
She didn’t have anyone to spend the holiday with and didn’t want to be alone. That must be why she volunteered to serve the meal on Thanksgiving. Rourke liked her even more.
“If you insist, my dear.” Pastor Davis gave her an understanding pat on the shoulder. Jennifer hurried off to help. There was nothing to be suspicious of here. Luc was right. The pastor knew Jennifer and genuinely liked her. There was no finer character reference than Pastor Davis.
“Does she help frequently?” Rourke asked. Maybe he could get some answers from the pastor.
Pastor Davis nodded and smiled sadly. His tan face was a stark contrast to the bright white hair that graced his head. Rourke could remember when the pastor was more pepper than salt. Time had marched on while he was serving his country. It was just another sign of how much Rourke missed during his time away.
“She’s been . . . around a lot lately. Jennifer is a fine woman.” He looked over his shoulder as if to assure he wouldn’t be overheard. “She’s had a hard time of it.”
Rourke hadn’t imagined it. The pastor wasn’t saying something. He’d definitely paused before finishing that answer.
“Really?” Rourke wanted to know more. There was a story here, and Rourke wanted to hear it, but Jennifer bustled back into the kitchen carrying another large box. She teetered on those sexy ass heels. Rourke took the box.
“Thank you. There’s a mountain of donations up there.” She smiled up at Rourke with those stunning ocean green eyes, and his heart stuttered. The woman was a beauty. Her skin was flawless. That smile like an oasis to a man who had been in the desert for far too long. Christ, he was so dazed by those eyes he was getting poetic. What the hell?
He cleared his throat and looked away before he scooped her up and kissed her just for being so fucking perfect. He was about to make an ass of himself. That just wasn’t cool. Rourke was always cool. Always.
“Let me get everything down the steps. I’m afraid you’ll break your neck in those shoes. Then we’ll get it all into storage.” Rourke put Jennifer’s box away and hustled up and down the stairs with boxes, formulating a plan of action as he went.
He wasn’t the kind of man to leave things to fate. Rourke never knew when he’d be called back to duty. The life of a Navy SEAL didn’t leave much time for relationships. He hadn’t been motivated to make any kind of real effort to get to know a woman for a very long time. He’d never had a problem finding sex if he needed it, and that was all Rourke had room for in his life. The occasional romp with a chick he could walk away from in the morning was all he needed or wanted.
Something about Jennifer was different, though. He hadn’t been able to keep his eyes off her all day. His mind immediately started picking her apart, looking for clues to whom she was and how he could get closer. Yes, he was very motivated to get to know the sweetly shy and incredibly intriguing Jennifer a lot better. A whole hell of a lot better.
TWO
Jennifer carried the last box of donations into the storeroom in the rear of the soup kitchen and released a sigh of relief at being alone. Her feet and back were killing her after a day of walking and standing in those god-awful shoes. She hated them. They were lovely and extremely expensive. They made her ass look fantastic too, but she would never work wearing them if she had a choice, not this kind of work anyway. She could dance in shoes that high but her dancing shoes were far more comfortable, and she didn’t wear them all day.
She didn’t have a choice, though, did she? A few dresses and two pairs of shoes were all she had when a hasty escape from her nightmare became possible. She couldn’t do anything about it until she found a way to pay for some new clothes and shoes. Even then, she’d be afraid to go out in public to find something to wear.
If she went to her apartment, she could get the cash she’d saved from waiting tables. It would do her no good to try going to the bank with no I.D. Plus, most of her bills were on autopay, so her account was empty by now anyway. Jennifer also feared her bankcard would allow someone to track her movements. When a person went missing, the police would track their banking account activity and cell phone. Thank goodness for the pastor and his wife. They’d been so very kind to her. She wouldn’t repay them by allowing her whereabouts in the church to be discovered.
Jennifer set the box she carried down and looked around the storage room, wondering where Rourke, the delicious Viking god of war in fatigues had gone. He scared the shit out of her. The man was huge. His muscular arms and chest stretched the tee shirt he wore under that camouflage shirt he’d removed when it got hot in the kitchen. He towered over her from somewhere well above six feet tall. His pale blond hair was cut short in a military buzz. Those icy blue eyes frightened her more than anything did. He’d watched her with those cool, knowing eyes all day. She felt his stare throughout the afternoon and wondered at his interest.
He was looking at her as if he knew all of her secrets. He watched her as if he’d seen through her story and knew exactly who she was and why she was there at the church. Of course, he didn’t know anything about her. She was paranoid again. That’s what she’d been telling herself all afternoon. She’d never seen him before in her life. He couldn’t know her or her dilemma.
Rourke’s dark counterpart, however, was familiar to Jennifer. She’d only met Luc Christianson once, and they hadn’t actually been introduced. Jennifer’s murdering, lying, dream crushing ex-boyfriend had pissed Luc off by starting a fight in Hell, Luc’s private gambling club.
Jennifer’s mind drifted to the events that had b
rought her to her current predicament, as it often did. She’d had been in Las Vegas for a year. She’d gone to art school for dance and dreamed of making it on Broadway. She moved to New York after graduation and gave it all she had for several years. All she had, unfortunately, just wasn’t good enough, though. The competition was fierce, and Jennifer was a little too womanly when the producers were looking for willowy. The parts she did manage to land wouldn’t pay the rent. Jennifer waited tables to make ends meet. She was such a cliché.
When her roommate threw in the towel and went home to “get a real job,” like her parents insisted, Jennifer had to make a choice. She couldn’t afford to live alone. Either she, too, went home to beg her father’s forgiveness and spend the rest of her life making up for disobeying them and moving to New York to chase her dreams, or she could move on and try her career elsewhere. The latter won out. Jennifer wasn’t ready to admit defeat, yet.
Having learned her lesson in New York, Jennifer found a waitressing job and a studio apartment she could afford on her own before her hunt for a dancing gig began. It took a while, but Jennifer finally did get a great part in a show that was perfect for her. She was happy for the first time since she left her home and her family in Washington, DC. That’s when everything changed.
Evan MacGraff approached Jennifer one night at an after party in the theater. Evan was handsome and charming. He complimented her performance along with her friends. All the girls adored him. Jennifer found him attractive, but she wasn’t looking for a relationship. She could admit to being flattered when Evan tugged her off to the side to speak one on one. Jennifer worked with stunningly gorgeous women, but Evan was interested in Jennifer. It wasn’t that Jennifer was attractive. She just knew she wasn’t the loveliest of her friends in the show.