Search and Seduce

by Sara Jane Stone

  Maybe he was waiting for her to take charge.

  “I could do it,” she murmured. For the first time, she felt as if anything was possible, as if she could control her future. “I could interrupt his shower.”

  But first, she needed to determine the boundaries, find the limits and write her rules. She wanted sex—craved it—but not heartbreak. Not this time.

  She stood, her body still on edge with desire, and headed for the hall, Jango at her side. She paused, her gaze locked on the guest bedroom door. The pipes rattled again as he turned off the shower.

  Amy turned away. “Bed. Now. Before I do something stupid like offer to towel him dry.”

  9

  MARK WIPED HIS BROW with the handkerchief from his back pocket. For the past few days, winter had been holding on. But today, spring had decided to show her face, raising the temperature a good fifteen degrees while they constructed the last of the dog runs behind the kennel.

  “Looks like Amy won’t need the space heaters she rented,” T.J. said as they carried the roll of wire fencing over to the frame they’d constructed.

  “Probably not.” Mark set his end of the spool down on the grass and stripped off his flannel shirt, tossing it aside.

  “You know, we could finish this tomorrow,” T.J. said.

  Gabe stopped beside them holding two pairs of wire cutters. “I’m not sure how much longer I’ll be here. Might as well do what we can.”

  Mark nodded. “I don’t want to leave Amy with the heavy lifting.”

  “I thought you were sticking around for a while, Mark,” T.J. said. “Your last deployment was what, six months? Aren’t you due for some time off?”

  Mark stood the spool on its end, preparing to wrap it around the upright posts. “I signed up to fill any shortfalls in upcoming deployments.”

  “They always need PJs,” Gabe said. “If you volunteered, I bet they call you back soon.”

  Mark nodded, not mentioning his commanding officer knew he wanted to be out there, not sitting on his hands at home. Or at least he had in the past. After last night, and that kiss... Shit, part of him wanted to stick around. But he knew that was not in anyone’s best interests. Once Amy started making her list, she’d probably realize she deserved better.

  Or maybe for what she had in mind, he’d fit the bill. Amy knew the drill. Men on active duty did not control their schedules. Sure, he’d made this vacation happen, but only because it had come at the end of his tour. If she hadn’t asked him to come here, he’d be back at base, waiting to ship out again.

  “What about you?” Mark asked T.J. “When are you heading back to Lackland?”

  “Wednesday,” T.J. said. “But I think Luke’s taking two weeks’ vacation this time. To spend more time helping out Amy and Mom.”

  “And you?” Mark nodded toward Gabe as he wrestled with the wire fencing.

  “I got a heads-up yesterday,” Gabe said tightly. “My team’s going wheels up in the next twenty-four to forty-eight hours.”

  “Shit,” T.J. said. “Did you tell Mom?”

  “No.” Gabe snipped the fencing with the cutters. “And you won’t, either.”

  Mark lowered the spool to the ground. “What about Eloise?”

  “It didn’t come up.” Gabe stepped back, admiring his work. “That girl’s looking for a lot of things, but assurances that I’ll stick around or come back to her? Not in her game plan.”

  Mark glanced back at the kennel. What about Amy? Would she require promises? And if she did, would he make them? Words that secured him to one place and one person—those weren’t part of his vocabulary, not while he was still with the PJs. And he had no plans to leave. He couldn’t. So that others may live—those were the words tattooed across his heart.

  * * *

  STANDING UNDER THE TENT directing the caterers as they rushed to set up before the late-afternoon sun slipped behind the mountains, Amy felt as if she was preparing for a grander version of her wedding day. “If I had my way, we would have lined up the chairs in front of the door, cut the ribbon and sent everyone home,” she muttered.

  “That man over there with the apron?” Eloise, who’d spent the better part of the afternoon helping set things up, pointed to the catering truck. “He said they would be serving hundreds of marionberry thumbprint cookies. And mini grilled cheese sandwiches made with local cheddar.”

  “So you’re coming for the food.” Amy chuckled, heading over to the long rectangular table where they’d set out water bottles for the hardworking crew.

  “No, I’m coming because you’re family and I love you. But I’m excited about the food. And you should be, too. Tomorrow will be fun, and your mother-in-law is picking up the tab for everything she added to your little party.”

  “It wasn’t supposed to be a party,” Amy insisted. “I planned to wrap a ribbon around the building, cut it and give a quick tour to family and friends.”

  “This will be better.” Eloise grabbed her hand and gave it a squeeze just as Gabe walked into the tent.

  Her cousin’s gaze locked on Gabe’s bare chest. “He looks dirty. Maybe he needs a shower. Hmm...how much more do we have to do here?”

  “Go.” Amy released Eloise’s hand. “Just come back early tomorrow morning to help wrap the ribbon around the building.”

  “Promise.” Eloise headed for Gabe. Her cousin took the SEAL’s hand and drew him away with a look that promised one long, wild night.

  Amy bit her lower lip. I want that, too.

  She’d stared at her ceiling for hours last night trying to define what she wanted. Wild, uninhibited sex. And orgasms. So many she’d lose count.

  But then she’d mentally drafted her rule book. If she wanted to safeguard her heart, rule number one was no one who planned to deploy again. She couldn’t return to the endless days and months spent waiting. She couldn’t follow her cousin’s lead, tumble into a soldier’s bed without thinking about the morning after.

  “If only it was that easy,” Amy muttered, shaking her head.

  “If what was easy?”

  Amy turned to find Mark standing beside her dressed in jeans, a long-sleeved flannel thrown over a blue T-shirt and cowboy boots. Looking at him, feeling his commanding presence, she flushed with the memory of their kiss. Her nipples formed tight peaks beneath her shirt, reminding her that she wanted to feel his hands on her body. She wanted to break the rules she’d crafted last night—or find a loophole.

  “Nothing,” she said quickly. “How’s the fence?”

  “We had a few snafus, but it’s all in place now.” Mark nodded toward Gabe. “His shirt got caught.”

  “Or he wanted to hightail it out of here with my cousin,” Amy said drily.

  “Or that.” Mark picked a bottle of water off the table. The remaining Benton brothers joined them.

  “What’s next?” T.J. asked.

  Amy surveyed the tables and chairs, the speakers on their stands, the strands of Christmas lights she’d run around the tent’s perimeter with her cousin’s help. “I think we’re done until morning.”

  “Yeah?” Luke said.

  “You guys did a great job,” she said sincerely. “Thank you for sacrificing your leave to help me pull this event together and get the kennel set up.”

  “You ever need anything, we’re here,” Luke promised. “I speak for all of us. Jeremy, too. If he’d been able to get away, he would have.”

  Amy smiled. “Thank you.”

  “You up for pizza in town, Ames?” T.J. asked.

  She shook her head. “Not tonight. I need to write up some remarks for tomorrow.”

  Luke nodded. “See you back here in the morning.”

  The brothers wandered off, heading toward their family home. Barking sounded from inside the kennel.

  “That’s my cue,” she said, turning to the building. “Dinnertime. Meet you back at the house?”

  “Yes,” Mark said. “But first, I need to swing by The Last Stop Diner. I’ll pick somethi
ng up for you.”

  “You don’t have to do that,” she said.

  He reached for her hand, drawing her close. “Yes. I do. I’ll need to borrow your truck to make the trip. Think of dinner as my way of saying thank you.”

  “I can think of a few other ways,” she said, knowing she didn’t want food. She wanted a taste of the man standing in front of her. She wished she could brush aside her fears of the morning after.

  Heat flared in his brown eyes. “When I get back, I want to hear your ways. Every detail.”

  “Yes.”

  “Good.” He released her and walked away.

  Amy closed her eyes. “Oh, God, what am I doing?”

  * * *

  MARK WALKED INTO The Last Stop, greeted by the familiar smell of seafood chowder. The scent had haunted his childhood, lingering on his mother’s clothes long after she washed them.

  He glanced around the brightly lit open space. Pie filled the rotating rack by the register, and vinyl booths lined the walls. Nothing had changed—including many of the staff. Blanche, the owner, waved from her place behind the register. Mark headed over.

  “Mark, welcome home! I saved you a stool right by me.” Blanche pointed to the first stool of the ten currently empty seats lining the counter. On the nights Mark hadn’t joined the Benton family for dinner, he had often eaten at the counter, reading or doing his homework while his mother waited tables. Nine times out of ten, Blanche had helped him with his schoolwork.

  She picked up her order pad—no fancy computer systems for The Last Stop Diner—and looked at him. “Your usual?”

  Mark wasn’t sure the term applied, given he hadn’t eaten here in a year and a half, but he nodded. “And something for Amy Benton to go. Whatever she usually gets.”

  “That girl doesn’t come in here much anymore. But when she does, she eats like a bird,” Blanche said, shaking her head. “I’ll have them pack up a cheeseburger, fries and a slice of pie.”

  She rose, tearing the ticket off her pad, and Mark nearly fell off his chair.

  “You’ve lost weight.” And gained mobility.

  Blanche beamed. “Zumba at the seniors center in town. You should try it sometime.”

  “Maybe. Amy’s been keeping us busy out at her place getting ready for her grand opening.”

  “It’s crazy what she is doing out there.” Blanche settled back onto her stool and picked up her knitting. “Raising those attack dogs by herself.”

  Mark laughed. “Have you told her your thoughts on the matter?”

  The lines on Blanche’s face drew together. “No. I doubt she wants to hear my opinion.”

  “She does,” Mark said, knowing Amy would find Blanche’s words refreshing. “Trust me. But she’s a big girl and knows how to handle those dogs better than most men.”

  “If you say so.” Blanche pursed her lips together, shaking her head. “But surrounding herself with those animals? How does she expect to find another husband?”

  Mark gazed down at the clean white counter. “I don’t think she’s looking.”

  “She can’t spend the rest of her life in mourning.”

  “I don’t think she plans to do that, either,” he said slowly. But there was a long distance between hot kisses and forever. And replacing Darren? It didn’t get much better than a kindhearted, loyal-to-a-fault navy SEAL. Mark wanted her to move on, but couldn’t imagine there was a man out there worthy of spending the rest of his life with Amy.

  A bell rang, indicating food had been placed in the open window.

  “That was fast,” Mark said.

  “Just your salad.” Blanche slid off her stool, setting her knitting aside, and went to retrieve it.

  “Salad was never part of my usual.” Mark tried to recall if he’d ever eaten a vegetable here.

  “If your mama was here, she’d want you to eat your greens,” Blanche insisted. “You need to look out for your health.”

  Mark opened his mouth to tell Blanche that he spent most of his days flying into the fray of war, and The Last Stop’s iceberg lettuce covered in ranch dressing with one lonely tomato on the side wasn’t going to keep him from getting shot out of the sky. But he quickly thought better of it. Hell, it felt good to have someone give a damn.

  * * *

  AN HOUR LATER, with a to-go bag in hand, Mark walked into the kitchen and found Amy sitting at the table with papers spread out in front of her.

  “Last-minute details?” He set the food on the table.

  “I’m writing my speech for tomorrow.”

  He glanced at the sheets of paper. Many of them were balled up and ready for the trash. “Not going so well?”

  “No.” Resting her elbows on the table, she propped her head in her hands.

  “You need to eat.” He nudged the bag in her direction. “Blanche sent me home with a burger, fries and pie.”

  Amy looked up and shook her head. “Thanks, but I’m not hungry. I need to finish this. But what can I say to all those people? They’ll want to hear about Darren, not the puppies. And I’m just not sure...”

  “Wing it.” Mark pulled out the chair beside her and sat down.

  “I can’t get up there without a plan,” she said. “I need to know what I’m going to say.”

  “Then tell the truth.” He took her hand in his. “Explain what this place means to you. Tell them about your dream to train and raise dogs. I think you might find there are more people than you think who look at this place and see you.”

  “I hope you’re right.” Amy stared at the papers.

  “I am. Don’t worry about it now. You’ll get through tomorrow. I promise.” Mark raised his free hand to her face, running his fingers down her cheek and lifting her chin so she met his gaze. “Right now, I owe you a thank you for sharing your truck.”

  She stared at him, and he wished he could read her thoughts. Judging from the hot, wild and enticing gleam in her blue eyes, she was mentally running through scenarios that would more than take the edge off his need to feel and taste every inch of her.

  But then she turned away, pulling free from his touch.

  “I can’t, Mark,” she said softly. “I wrote my rules, but I don’t know if you’re going to like them.”

  He pushed back from the table, reaching for her, drawing her up with him. Pulling her close, wrapping one arm around her waist, he held her, feeling the rise and fall of her chest.

  “Try me.”

  Amy drew a deep breath, which had the added benefit of pressing her breasts against his chest. He looked down, his hands itching to touch, to explore...

  “Rule number four—”

  “Wait.” His gaze returned to her face. “What happened to the first three?”

  “They don’t apply if we follow the fourth rule,” she said. “No strings and no promises.”

  Mark raised an eyebrow. No ties between him and Amy? A lifetime of friendship was a damn big string. She was the only person left in Heart’s Landing he made promises to—even if there were some he couldn’t make to anyone.

  “I want to know the other rules,” he demanded, holding her tight.

  Amy sighed, dropping her chin as her hands ran up his back. “First one, trust. But I do trust you.”

  “Good.” His shoulders tensed at the thought of her giving that up. In his book, trust was never optional—not between friends, teammates or lovers. “And the other two?”

  “Number two—no one tied to Darren’s memory. And number three—no one in the military.”

  “I can’t change the past.” His brow furrowed. Stepping back, he released his hold on her. He didn’t want to erase the memory of his best friend, and he wasn’t willing to walk away from his future. He needed to return to his team.

  Her face fell as she wrapped her arms tightly around herself. He’d witnessed her grief, her determination and her happiness. But seeing her like this? Wanting, but uncertain?

  “There is too much history between us. I know that.” She drew her low
er lip between her teeth. “But the idea of starting something with a stranger...it’s thrilling, and at the same time terrifying.”

  “Thrilling?” Mark felt his chest tighten. He wanted her to move on, but not with some random guy. Not Amy, who should be cherished—who should be his.

  “I want to cast off the past. Lose myself in the moment. But it’s a fantasy. I know that. One big, wild fantasy.”

  He hated the sad resolve he heard in her voice. She stepped to the side, trying to move around him. He reached for her, unable and unwilling to let her go. He was in the military, and her late husband’s friend. He’d move mountains for her, but he couldn’t rewrite the facts.

  But no strings? A fantasy?

  “Amy.” He held her arms as he stared down at her. “I’m in.”

  10

  AMY WANTED THIS, craved it. But her mind needed time to process. It was one thing to tease this man. But following through? While the thought of it left her wet and aching, she had reservations. So many ran through her mind it was as if she’d pressed the fast-forward button on her life.

  Was she crazy? This was Mark. Could she do this? With him? She almost melted at the thought of his touch, of making love to him, but knowing it would happen?

  “Come with me, Amy.”

  Confusion swirled as Mark took her hand, leading her down the hall to the spare bedroom. With his help, she’d set up a bed and a single chair after transferring the pups to the kennel. But even with the modest furnishings, the space felt barren, so different from the rest of her home.

  Mark closed the door and moved behind her. He’d hugged her, held her close countless times. But tonight, his presence dominated the space, demanding all of her senses pay attention to him, tearing her focus away from the questions.

  “Mark,” she whispered, blindly reaching for him. Her hand brushed his leg, and her world, which had been spinning out of control, steadied.

  His fingers grazed the back of her neck, brushing aside her hair. “Close your eyes.”

  He stepped away, and she felt the loss, her body tensing.

  “Keep them closed,” he warned.

  “Why?”