by Selena Kitt
Another reason to curse my ex.
I kept quiet, not wanting to risk saying something stupid or insulting again. Dane glanced at me a couple times, but noted my stiff posture in the car seat and said nothing. Other than directions to the flower shop and unloading instructions at the VFW, we spoke very little. By the time the cookout started, I was missing hearing his gentle rumble.
I stood awkwardly to one side until a few men approached me, looking appreciatively at my bare legs and sandals.
"Having a good time, sweetheart?"
Dane appeared at my side, close enough to put his arm around me if he wanted to. "This is Cassandra, Miss Maddie's granddaughter."
"Bill and Maddie Brass?" The men recognized my grandparents, and instantly I became a celebrity.
I spent the rest of the night talking about my grandparents, with Devil Dog Dane at my side. He was the perfect gentleman, escorting me, introducing me, only leaving to bring me food. And I was grateful. I recognized a few faces from volunteering as a teenager, but everyone knew Dane. He'd been actively volunteering since coming back from tour.
The hardest part of the night came when they recognized my gramps for his service. I had to go up in front of everyone and accept an award on my grandma's behalf.
When I stepped off the little podium, my vision blurred with tears, Dane was waiting.
"Come with me," he rumbled, the tone of his voice not asking, but telling. "Gonna show you something."
He offered his hand and without thinking, I took it. He led me into the lodge, down a quiet hall, and stopped in front of a picture of a bulldog a lot like the one on his arm. Next to the picture was a red poster with a bulldog chasing a Dachshund.
"Recruitment poster," Dane said. He let my hand go but I still felt its warmth. "Devil dogs—rumor has it that's what the Germans called the Marines during World War Two. That's when the bulldog became our mascot."
I studied the poster, wondering what it would've been like to enlist as a Marine, knowing you'd be the first to fight. Dane stood quietly beside me, and I realized he'd pulled me away from the crowd to let me gather myself.
"Thank you," I said, turning to him.
"Figured you needed a break," he said in that soft, strong voice.
"It's just a lot to take in."
Dane stayed silent, focused on me with his usual intentness. I sighed and shared, "Last time I was supposed to go to a VFW event, my grandpa and I got in a huge fight. I ran straight to Chad—my ex. It was a mistake." My whole life was a mistake. Well, maybe just the past eight years, but it felt like my whole life. "I know that now."
"Better late than never."
"I guess." I rubbed the place on my finger where my wedding band had been. Maybe the reason I'd held on for a year, hoping Chad would change his mind, wasn't because I wanted to be with him. Maybe it was because I just wanted those years back.
Dane looked like he wanted to say something more, but then we heard someone coming in. We walked back down the hallway; Dane started around the corner then drew back with a grin.
"What—" I started and he stepped close to me, putting a finger on his lips for me to be quiet. We both peeked out and caught two teenagers from the cookout, making out as if their lives depended on it.
We tiptoed out of the hall, past the kissing couple, who were completely oblivious to the adults sneaking past their nookie session.
He escorted me out, the heat from his hand at my back leaping into me, warming my whole body until my cheeks grew red.
On the way home, I broke my vow of silence. "Thanks for today. For putting up with me…" Even when I was a bitch, I added silently.
"Welcome, babygirl."
My inner parts warmed.
"Thanks for bringing Nan flowers."
"Anything for Miss Maddie. I used to hang around the VFW and listen to your gramps tell stories."
"Then you joined the Marines."
He confirmed with a nod.
"And then the medical discharge?"
"Hurt my knee. Fought the discharge for a while, then came home." His face didn't register pain the way it had in the coffee shop, but I noticed a faint line of tension in his shoulders.
I decided a change of subject was in order. "Look, I'm sorry I offended you and then ran out of the coffee shop. I have no filter. You can ask anybody."
"You didn't offend me."
"But—"
"Cassandra," he said in a firm tone. "You're too hard on yourself. Let it go."
At the order, I shut up. I also needed a change of panties. What was it about this big hunky guy carrying flowers to my nan, paying attention to me all night long, then giving me orders that set every nerve in me on fire? I wished it had been us in the lodge, making out.
"Your nan says your ex has given you trouble."
Goddammit. "I don't have trouble."
"Ex cheated on you, then kicked you out of the house? Threatened to take your car if you didn't give him a clean break?"
I frowned, because this was all true. "Yes, but I'm handling that."
He pursed his lips.
"I am," I insisted as he turned into Nan's neighborhood.
"You need something, you let me know."
There it was again. Not asking, telling. "Yes, sir," I muttered.
At his satisfied nod, I crossed my arms over my chest.
"This is the 21st century," I said. "You do know that women are liberated?"
"Yep."
"We can own property, find work, even vote?"
In the face of my bitchiness, he just gave a nod.
"So I don't really need a man to take care of me."
"Your gramps would've wanted it."
Which effectively shut me up. I crossed my arms over my chest and sulked, real mature like.
He stayed silent until he pulled up to the curb. "I know women can vote," he said. "I was over in a country where women can't. I fought for freedom. Was willing to die for it."
I huffed.
He put his hand on my knee, getting my attention. "A few of my friends did."
My bitchiness melted away.
"I'm sorry." Just like that, my eyes stung with tears. I'd done it again, offended this beautiful man whose only crime was trying to help me.
"It's okay, babygirl," he said softly. "You didn't know."
"I'm having a rough year," I said.
"I get it. Tell you what. Make it up to me by having dinner with me tomorrow night. We can talk more, get to know each other."
"Okay," I agreed.
It wasn't until I was halfway to the house that I realized I'd agreed to go on a date with Devil Dog Dane.
Chapter 2
My head still reeling at how much I liked taking orders from the burly Marine, I tiptoed into the house and heard Nan call my name.
"You're still awake?" I padded into the living room turned bedroom, pulling my hair out of my bun.
Not only was Nan awake, she looked more alert than I felt. "I wouldn't miss hearing all the gossip. Come here, child, tell me everything."
I spent the next hour relating every detail of my night. Whenever I tried to keep it brief so I could finish and let Nan get some sleep, she'd fire questions at me until she could probably paint the scene from memory. I even told her about Dane showing me the Devil Dog poster, and the close encounter with the two necking teenagers.
Nan nodded approvingly. "Next time, have him take you to the janitor's closet. It's nice and large, and there's a bench…"
"Nan!"
My grandma sat straight-backed in her hospital bed, an angelic smile on her face and a devilish glint in her eye. "I was young once too, Cassandra. And the moment I laid eyes on your gramps…"
I perched on the edge of the bed. "Tell me."
Still with that heavenly smile, Nan moved her blanket and uncovered the picture book she'd been looking through when I walked in: her wedding album.
"My William wanted two things: to serve his country, and to marry me. We dat
ed through high school, and then he was off." Nan turned to my favorite picture of her and Gramps—a black and white shot at the church. Nan was beaming over a bouquet of daisies. Gramps looked so young and eager, but the set of his shoulders spoke of determination and authority beyond his years. "We married right before he left for boot camp. We had our honeymoon after that, and then he went off to war."
"That must have been hard."
"It was, but your gramps told me we'd make it work." Her finger traced a circle around Gramps's face.
She chuckled. "Bill was a bulldog, through and through. Stubborn, always got his way. Brass Bill they called him. Brass Balls Bill."
"Nan!"
We both laughed until I noticed Nan's eyes were wet and handed her a tissue.
"Oh, I miss him." Nan blinked hard and smiled through her tears. "You know he'd be so proud of you."
It was my turn to blink. "Really?"
"Oh, yes, you were the light of his life."
A pain shot through my heart. "Nan, the last time Gramps was going to take me to the VFW—"
"You both got in a huge fight. I remember. That was the night you moved out."
"I'm so ashamed…"
"Why, honey? You had to make your own choice."
"But the fight…"
"Oh, that." She waved her hand. "Of course you two fought. You're just like your gramps. Stubborn. Wide open. He would always say the first thing that popped into his head, no matter how mad it would make me." She smiled at the memory. "Of course, he always felt like he was your dad and grandad, seeing as you never had your biological father around."
I nodded. Even my brain was quiet in the face of my nan's certainty.
"William wanted to protect you, that's all. We were his girls, you know. Those tough military types want to take care of their women."
"Yeah," I agreed softly, thinking about Dane being at my side all night.
"So," Nan said slyly. "What about Dane Hutchinson?"
"What about him?"
"He's a tough military type. I bet Chad can't hold a candle a candle to him."
"They're certainly very different." My thoughts turned to my slender, patrician ex. Chad preferred the clean cut, preppy look. They probably didn't make golf shirts large enough to fit over Dane's impressive chest and biceps. In fact, it was a tragedy that such a man had to wear clothes at all.
Deep down, my lady parts stirred.
Don't get your hopes up, my brain scolded.
As if she could hear my thoughts, Nan gripped my hand.
"Don't sell yourself short, Cassandra. You deserve a marriage as wonderful as I had."
"Nan…"
"Just promise me you'll give yourself a chance to be happy."
I sighed. Not even Devil Dog Dane's rumbled orders could compete with Nan's. Between the two of them, I'd be divorced and well over Chad by summer. "I promise."
* * *
The next day, I cursed myself at how easily I caved to the Marine's commands.
"It's only dinner," I told myself as I obsessed over what to wear.
Just a pity date. Nan probably put him up to it, though a part of me hoped it wasn't so.
I decided on a blouse and flirty little skirt that used to be too tight for me but suddenly fit again. The phone rang as I was in the bathroom, fretting over my makeup. Thinking it was Dane, I answered without checking.
"Did you get the papers?"
"Well, hello, Chad."
"Cass," my ex said. I hated to be called Cass. Cassie, yes, or Cassandra. Actually, I loved being called Cassandra, but no one did it except Nan, which was maybe why it was my favorite. "Quit being difficult."
I blew out a breath. "I got the papers. When are you going to let me into the house to get my stuff? Some of it's mine, Chad. Be fair." I wasn't quite sure how it happened, but Chad had talked me into moving out of the house even though he was the one cheating. I had kowtowed, probably because at that point in the relationship I'd hoped I could convince him to work on our marriage.
Stupid, silly me.
"Sign the papers and we'll talk," he said.
A week ago, I'd have caved. I'd spent so many years doing whatever this man asked, I couldn't stand up for myself. But now, with Devil Dog Dane telling me he had my back, and looking at me like I was the most important thing in his universe, my spirits were a bit bolstered. Maybe I wasn't the fat, disgusting cow Chad had stepped out on.
"Chad, I think we should sit down and talk first. Not alone, but with a mediator or somebody. It doesn't have to be a fight with lawyers."
"You forget, Cass, I am a lawyer. I know my rights, and you have nothing to stand on here. You're lucky I let you keep the car, since it was in my name."
"But I paid for it," I said. "I put the money in the joint account—"
"And who puts most of the money in that account? You and your bookkeeping practice for ten clients, or me?"
I shut up, since he was right. Once he'd graduated law school, he'd started making three times as much as I did.
"Just sign the papers," he snarled and hung up.
I set the phone down, my hand shaking too hard to apply a second coat of mascara. How did such a sweet charmer in high school, and sexy pothead in college, turn into such a jerk?
Eight years of marriage with you, my brain supplied, and I glared at my reflection. I was sick of not having anyone on my side, including my own damn brain. I needed someone to fight for me. Other than an eighty-eight year old—who, granted, was doing her best to bolster my spirits.
At least with Devil Dog Dane I felt a little more alive.
"Cassandra, your beau is here."
"Coming!" Beau?
I rushed to the door, smoothing my skirt before opening it. I felt like a nervous girl on her first date, but the up-and-down Dane's mirrored shades gave me—followed by a slow, panty-dropping grin—made all my zealous preparation worth it.
"See I made the right decision, bringing the Charger," he murmured as he escorted me to his grey muscle car, the sight of which would put a girl in the mood to, uh, ride.
"As opposed to?"
"The bike."
"Bike?"
"Motorcycle."
"Motorcycle," I breathed in awe. "For a second I thought you meant like a mountain bike or something."
As we roared away from the curb, Dane shook his head, his eyes crinkling in a sexy almost-smile.
"What?" I demanded.
"You're cute."
I pretended outrage even as I preened at him calling me 'cute' in his sexy rumble. "How would I know you meant a motorcycle? Do I look like a biker chick?"
"Not yet, babygirl, but next time you're on the back of my bike," he declared. "Can't wear a mini skirt, though."
"This isn't a mini skirt. It goes almost to my knees," I corrected, keeping to the slightly bitchy shtick. Devil Dog Dane could take it.
He glanced down to my lap, where my skirt had ridden up quite a bit.
I flipped it down. "Just drive," I grumbled.
His lips twitched as he focused on the road. "What about you? Hobbies?"
"Don't have any. I work a lot. Read a little." I shot him a sly look. "My idea of a good night is holing up in bed with a movie and my two favorite men."
At the 'two men' comment, the close-cropped head snapped to me.
"Ben and Jerry." It was my turn to grin.
He shook his head at me but my joke got a full on smile this time. He had really white teeth.
"I'm kind of a goof," I told him.
He kept the smile, shaking his head. "I get that."
I settled back in my seat, feeling good. "I work as a bookkeeper," I said. "Gramps recommended that line of work, because I was always good with numbers. And I don't have to talk to people, risk saying something dumb."
"Good plan," he said solemnly, and I swatted his thick thigh.
In a flash, he caught my hand in his. I waited with bated breath for him to let it go, but he held it for a moment, his thum
b rubbing over it.
I still felt his fingers on my skin when he released me.
"So what do you do?" I asked, my voice high and airy. "Other than lift weights."
"Drive pretty girls to the VFW."
I would've swatted him again, but wasn't sure my panties would survive. They were already drowning. I pressed my legs together.
"Haven't worked since I got out."
"Since you got out of the Marines?"
He nodded. "My brother wants me to help him in his auto body shop. I used to run it with him. He still pays me, as one of the original investors."
"Why don't you go back?"
He shrugged. "Body work was just something I did until I could join the military. When I got discharged, it was best I took a break."
"Why was that?"
"Because as soon as I was out, I went on a three month bender. Nearly wrecked my life. Did wreck my truck. Wrapped it around a stoplight. Could've died."
I froze.
"Took a while but I got back on my feet, got sober. Lifting weights keeps me focused on being healthy."
I must've made a gurgling noise, because he glanced over at me.
"I'm better now, Cassandra. Bought this car to celebrate one year clean. I still go to AA, though. At the VFW. And volunteer a lot, that's how so many people there know me."
"Why are you telling me this?"
"A woman on a third date with a man has a right to know." He took an exit off the highway, driving casually, as if he hadn't just dropped a bomb on the conversation.
"You mean second date."
He shook his head, grinning. "I'm counting the coffee shop."
"But I ran away from you."
He grinned broader. "Yes, you did. And I understand why."
"You do?"
"You just got burned by a man."
I frowned. "That doesn't have anything to with it."
"You over him?"
"What?"
"Your ex. Your nan says he wasn't ever worthy of you."
I blew out a frustrated breath. "Maybe you should take Nan out to dinner. You guys seem to have hit it off."
"I definitely will, once she's up to it. But today I wanted you."
Oh my god, my brain said, and my body echoed. Not even my snarky side could deny the way his words stunned me.