“I have two younger sisters. They live—” Her phone ringing cut her sentence short. If it was Percy, she’d call the building management next to complain about stalking. “Hello?”
The wind rushed over his words as Bruce Pepperhill spoke into the intercom outside the lobby. “Hey, Marg. I was in the neighborhood, thought I’d drop by.”
She couldn’t bring her father’s suitor up here. “Hi, I’ll be down in a second.” She lowered the phone and turned.
Patrick rose from the table. “You’ve got company.”
“I’ll be right back. He can come back some other time. He works for my father.”
“He’s from L.A.?”
She nodded.
“Listen, dinner was great, I have to go anyway.”
“What? I made desert and—”
“Some other time.”
Marg’s heart hung low like clouds on a grey rainy day. “Sure,” she said, rather than try to convince him to stay. In her short life, she hadn’t felt rejection all that often. This time it stung. These SEALs had a bad habit of only sticking around for a short time.
Marg followed, and when Patrick turned unexpectedly at the door, she bumped into him.
“Marg?”
She slowly raised her gaze.
“I think I’m out of my league, too, but I’m guessing the guy downstairs probably isn’t.”
“He’s actually one of my father’s prime select cuts of who I should marry.” She wasn’t going to hide anything from Patrick, except maybe the fact that she and Thane had done a round of gymnastics that would make cupid blush. “I didn’t tell him where I live, which means my father did.” She sighed. “Anyway, thank you again for helping me yesterday. Good luck on your qualification training.”
Patrick didn’t jump out the door like he would a plane. “So, you’re not exactly interested in him.”
“No, he’s exactly what I don’t want.” She sighed and held the door open, waiting for his quick getaway.
Patrick stepped closer. “What do you want?”
You, she thought. Most definitely Patrick, by the way her heart drummed whenever he got close to her. “A new start,” she said quietly. “You probably think I’m some spoiled Hollywood brat.”
“I don’t think that,” he said, his gorgeous mouth only inches away.
She nodded, placing a placid smile on her lips. “I just want to get to know some people in San Diego. Fit in.”
Patrick’s gaze softened. “A bunch of us are getting together for Halloween this Friday night. Why don’t you come with us?”
Us, she thought. Not him. She hadn’t gotten to know many people in town, maybe she’d meet some new friends at least. “It sounds like fun. Where should I meet you?”
Patrick tilted his head again as if he had a million questions. “Is it alright if I pick you up at seven?”
“You don’t have to, I’ll meet you wherever you’re going.” She leaned her back against the door. No sense pretending Patrick was interested in her.
“Old Town, and I’ll pick you up at ten to seven, here,” he said with a surge of determination.
When he took a right instead of a left, she swung out the door into the hallway. “The elevator is the other way.”
He walked backwards and said, “I know that, but I don’t want to run into your prime cut at the entrance, just in case you decide you want to see me again.”
He was halfway down the hall. “What does that have to do with anything?”
“You’re absolutely gorgeous, Margaret Stines, and the thought of you with anyone else would make me hunt him down and eradicate my competition.”
She swallowed deeply. “Okay,” she squeaked out as he pushed through the exit door to the stairs.
Back against the wall, she closed her eyes, then they burst open. Bruce! She snapped her keys from the counter and rushed downstairs. He stood near the planted palm in the lobby when she exited the elevator, his expression breaking into a broad grin.
“I was wrong. You’re more than gorgeous,” he said.
She paused and swept a fleeting glance across his broad shoulders. Tucked inside a tailored suit, he looked more handsome than a man should. Except for one thing—he didn’t have Patrick’s mysterious aura or silent strength. Although she could appreciate the perfect package Bruce made, he struck her the same as eating a pancake without the syrup.
“Are you on a fact finding mission for my father? Because if you are, you can get back in your Mercedes and do a three-sixty around the fountain toward the exit.”
Bruce’s brows quirked and he slowly raised a bag slung over his fingers. “Um, no. Just drove three hours down the I-5 during rush hour, hoping you like Chinese,” he said sheepishly.
Chapter Nine
Marg rose to the tips of her toes and pecked his cheek. “Sorry.” Bruce wasn’t to blame for Patrick leaving like he’d just received a call from the Pentagon.
Bruce held the bags higher. “I bought it here in San Diego. Promise it’s not cold.” He accepted her apology with a simple and honest smile.
“Ahh, yeah, let’s head to the courtyard and find a table.” She couldn’t take him upstairs to see the remnants of her dinner with Patrick. “The pool deck is really gorgeous, come see.”
Marg led the way to the decadent lounge of her building. Tables with umbrellas were sprinkled around the pool deck. Vacant of any of the building occupants, she settled near a large palm tree.
“Nice, it’s private,” he said.
“Did you come straight from work?” She settled in a wooden chair with a thick comfortable cushion and watched him remove the suit jacket from his sculpted shoulders and wrangle the tie from his neck.
He opened a couple of his shirt buttons, then took a seat. “How can you tell?”
Offering her a set of chopsticks and a box, she nodded her thanks then unscrewed the caps from both water bottles and sat one next to him. “How was the traffic?” Seemed like a pleasant question between friends.
“Thick, seemed to take forever.” With his chopsticks in a takeout box, he said, “But it was worth it, seeing you at the end of the line.”
“That’s sweet. You’re lucky I was home. Sometimes I’m out of town on a shoot.”
He winked at her. “Was a little worried if I called, you wouldn’t be around.”
“Bruce, seriously, it’s nice to have some company.” She offered him a half-assed smile, she had to force. “And I’m sorry for my rude greeting.”
“Making any friends?”
She drew out the chow mien noodle with a steady pull. “A few. How’s Dad? Have you seen him?”
Bruce swallowed a mouthful of water. “Everyday. I don’t want you to take this wrong, but he keeps asking me if we’ve seen each other.” He quickly added, “That’s not why I’m here.” His head tilted a little, and he reached across the table for her hand. “I’m here because I wanted us to spend some time together. For you to get to know me. I might stay over tonight—in a hotel.” He lifted her hand and kissed her knuckle.”
“Do you mind me asking how old you are?”
“Twenty-eight.”
“Oh!”
“I know you’re twenty-one, but you don’t act like it. Least not with the crowd I used to hang with.”
With high cheek bones, piercing green eyes and a taut football player frame, Bruce had probably experienced more women than she cared to know about. Nor was she completely convinced her father didn’t have something to do with Bruce’s interest.
His brows furrowed. “Say something.”
“Twenty-eight, and no girl has a ring on your finger.”
He squeezed her hand and released it. “If that’s an indirect question whether I’ve played the field, the honest answer is yes. Plenty. Too much.” He paused. “Getting tired of it.”
She popped a sweet and sour chicken ball onto her tongue and chewed slowly, giving her time to think. “So you’re in the market for a wife?”
He shook
his head. “No. I did the party scene in L.A. and we’re kind of the same, I guess. I spend my time mountain biking these days. A little surfing.” He pushed the box and his chopsticks aside. “Partying with the jet set crowd gets boring.” He shrugged. “Sometimes I have to rub shoulders or be seen with the right people. I know I don’t have to explain that to you. It’s part of my job. The part I dislike the most.”
“I know what you mean.” Marg toyed with her food. Since Patrick’s departure, her appetite left with him after a few bites. “I like dancing and hanging out at a club, but I also love curling up with a book with big fluffy socks on and a cup of hot chocolate.”
His head bobbed slightly. “You have to keep in shape for modeling.” He glanced down at the nearly full box in front of her. “You’re obviously not one of those models that lives on celery sticks, but I guess this wasn’t the smartest choice for dinner.”
“No. I like food. Just not hungry. I ate earlier.” Sitting back, she surveyed her surroundings. “Normally, I take a run after dinner.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, why?”
“Because I have my running gear in the car. Why don’t we let our dinners settle and stretch our legs?”
“Great idea.”
An hour later, Bruce changed in her bathroom while she changed into her running gear in her bedroom. When she’d shown him to the bathroom, she’d quickly swept up her and Patrick’s dinner dishes and put them in the sink.
She clipped her little runner’s bag with a spare apartment key to her waistband and found him on the patio. “You ready?”
“Nice view.”
She walked up beside him and glanced across the water, looking toward Coronado. “Thanks, I lucked out really. I sublet this place from a couple who wanted to move to Paris, but not give up their apartment. They gave me a good deal.”
“Hello, Margaret,” Malcolm said from his balcony.
“Hi, Malcom. Lovely evening.”
Malcolm had his arms resting on the cross rail and leered at Bruce.
Bruce quirked a brow and nodded. “Hi. You’re Marg’s neighbor.”
“And her close friend.”
Close friend? Not so much. Marg pushed a chair against the patio table. “How’s your mother, Malcolm?”
“The same. So are you dating, Marg?”
Bruce flicked a quick glance her way before saying, “We know each other from L.A. Ready to burn off some energy, Marg?”
Malcom’s agitated expression bothered her. Time to leave before he started grilling Bruce on when he’d have her home. “See ya, Malcolm.”
Malcolm didn’t respond, he just stared at them.
Bruce followed her into the living room. “What’s with that guy?”
Marg closed the balcony door and said quietly, “He’s a little creepy.”
“I’d say. You sure you’re safe?” Bruce caught her arm and stopped her.
“He’s a little on the weird side. As for safe, I suppose. I keep the door locked to the patio, but he really doesn’t bother me.” When she tried to carry-on, Bruce slid his arm around her waist.
“I realize we don’t know each other that well yet, but I feel a little protective over you anyway. If you ever need help, call me. I’ve always got my cell phone on me.”
“Thanks.” She offered a cheery smile, and backed away from him. “Follow me. I found a really cool place to run.”
An hour and half later, they were back at her pool and relaxing on a bench. “Air is cleaner here,” Bruce said, staring up toward the blue sky.
“I know. I like that. I like a lot of things about San Diego.”
Bruce shifted onto his hip. “I don’t have a shot in hell with you, do I, but it’s only because of my home address.”
She mirrored him and covered his hand. “You’re nice, Bruce, but we want different things.”
“No, we don’t, but you won’t know that unless you give me a chance to show you. How about I bring a couple of bikes down this weekend. We can go for a ride Saturday, then we’ll hit the beach like a couple of tourists.”
“You just want to see me in a bikini, don’t you?” She squinted at him.
He broke into a hearty, honest laugh, his handsome features lighting up. “I’m a guy. You can’t blame me for wanting to see a beautiful woman in a string bikini.”
“I’m wearing a one-piece.”
He laughed harder. “That’s just mean.”
She flicked a saucy look his way.
“By the way, your dad is headed this way Friday night to see you.”
“What?” She sat up straight. “Is Mom coming?”
“He didn’t mention your mom.”
“I better call him.”
“I’m in no hurry to leave, but I think I should hit the road. I won’t make it back until midnight.”
Marg walked him out to his car, and he turned before opening his door. His eyes settled on her face as if he wanted to kiss her, hovering on her lips.
“Friends, Bruce. I like your company. If you want to back out of Saturday, say it now, but I won’t be in bed with you by Saturday night.”
“Fair enough. I don’t mind hanging out with a girl who isn’t afraid to sweat.” He leaned in and placed a chaste kiss on her cheek. “See you Saturday.”
Marg picked up the phone when she got back to her condo and called her dad. She wasn’t breaking her date with Patrick.
“Hi, Dad, how’s it going?”
“Honey, I was going to call you tomorrow. Thought I’d come see you on Friday night after work.”
“Dad, I’ve kind of got plans on Friday night, but Friday afternoon I’m free. I have to work in the morning.”
“Busy Friday night as in a date? Wouldn’t happen to be Bruce would it?”
“Dad, why are you so determined to set me up with him?”
“That young man impresses the hell out of me. He’s extremely intelligent. He doesn’t want everything handed to him. He has a good eye for what’s trending before the media even knows. I want my daughter to have the best.”
Her heart pinged with his honesty and his concern. “Dad, I saw Bruce tonight. We had dinner and went for a run. He’s a nice guy, but I don’t want to be an executive’s wife in Hollywood. We’re friends. In fact, he’s coming back on Saturday and we’re going mountain bike riding.”
“Are you going to give him a chance to be more than friends?”
“Dad, you’re freaking me out.”
He laughed. “Honey, I’m just saying keep an open mind, okay. So is it alright if I take my daughter out to lunch on Friday?”
“Looking forward to it.” She didn’t mention her mom. Doubtful she’d break a tennis game or ladies afternoon function to come see her. “See you soon, Dad.”
* * * *
Pat smacked his head for the fourth time as he cradled a beer in his other hand. “I fucking chickened out, can you believe it?” The words came with half a growl and half resentment.
Thane slapped him on the back and let out a laugh. The other team guys from their BUD/s class razzed him, too.
Tom Avery sat on his other side. A monster of a man who’d made it through the training with them. He hailed from Boston and ended up with the team name Bullet, since he’d almost shot his own foot off in the first week of phase three training. In danger of being tossed, he became the “it guy” for a week after that. Being the “it guy” was not a good thing. The instructors ran your ass and tried to make you ring the bell.
Pat maintained the “grey man” status throughout his training. The guy who advanced with steady steps and didn’t fail often. He’d done that until the final days of Phase Three where not only did he fuck up big time, but earned the name Zodiak.
Paul punched him in the arm. “Zodiak, she’s one gorgeous woman. Don’t ring out on her.”
“No shit. I would’ve had a hard time keeping my pants on,” Harper added. “Why didn’t you just fuck her?”
Pat didn’t know why Than
e let Harper sit at their table, but the philosophy of keeping an eye on the enemy floated to the top of the list. Harper always had a reason for doing or being somewhere. Tonight it was as if he was listening intently to everything they said, and he’d bet his first SEAL pay check it wasn’t for good intentions.
“Shut the fuck up,” Thane snapped at Harper.
Harper leaned back with a narrowed eye. “You sure as shit didn’t come back from St. George’s when you left with her. What the hell are you telling me to shut up for?”
Pat’s head snapped up. “What?”
Thane looked like he wanted to snuff Harper out of existence. When he’d finished killing him at least three times with his ice blue glare, he darted a look Pat’s way. “We met at the club a week ago. I told you that.”
“And?” Fuck. He wanted to slap himself again. No wonder she’d showed up at St. George’s. She was looking for Thane. “Shit.”
“Hey, I…” A strange noise emanated from Thane’s throat. “I walked her to her car, man.”
Thane never lied to anyone. Pat learned that quick enough when they’d become friends. “You’re telling me you didn’t follow her home.”
“Nope, I’m not telling you that.”
What kind of fucking answer was that? A group of girls descended on their table. One flopped herself onto Thane’s lap and wrapped her arm around his neck.
“You guys look lonely,” the lanky blonde said, then put her lips to Thane’s ear and whispered to him.
They all grinned and made room for three other girls. One took up roost beside Patrick, but he wasn’t in the mood. This conversation wasn’t over. When Thane rose to go to the bar, he followed.
“Is Marg one of your groupies?” he demanded.
Thane ordered a round of beers instead of answering him. “Interrogating me isn’t going to help, Zodiak. You like the woman. Go for it.”
“She changed the subject a little too quickly when I asked about you.”
“We’re friends.” Thane dug in his pocket and put a twenty down on the scarred counter of the bar.
“I asked Marg to hang out with us this Friday night.” He leaned against the bar and looked across the seedy dump they’d chosen to drink at since St. George’s burned to the ground. It reminded him of the bars his father occupied, which disgusted him even more. Thane pushed a beer into his hand, picked another up, and tapped his bottle.
Code Name: Forever & Ever (A Warrior's Challenge series Book 5) Page 10