by Zoe Chant
“I only stock up on MREs that I actually like.”
“Did you get your taste buds shot off in the war?” Destiny inquired. “I’m having second thoughts on the restaurant trip. Maybe I should go in and eat, and leave you in the car with a bone to gnaw on.”
“If it’s a pork rib bone…”
Destiny chuckled as she pulled out of the parking garage. She rolled down the window to enjoy the night air. The streets of Santa Martina were almost empty. Everyone was either asleep at home or dancing at a club. It had rained earlier, and the moonlight turned the streets to ribbons of liquid silver.
Ethan leaned back in his seat, relaxing, but his gaze was alert as he watched the city sights go by. When she turned on South Hanford, she caught his eyelids flicker in the slightest expression of alarm. Her own adrenaline instantly rose—had he seen something suspicious? But he said nothing, and as the one landmark on South Hanford came into view, she remembered that he must have been in Santa Martina plenty of times before to visit his sister.
Doing her best to keep a straight face, she pulled up at one of Santa Martina’s few 24-hour restaurants (if you could call it a restaurant, which was debatable), a concrete block topped with a giant bacon-wrapped hotdog made of chipped, unappetizing-looking plaster.
“Big Bacon!” Destiny announced. “That’ll hit the spot. It’s a Santa Martina landmark.”
“I know. One of Ellie’s friends took me there once. A paramedic, Catalina. Do you know her?”
She shook her head. “But she’s got good taste! Did you love it?”
Ethan’s brow furrowed. He was clearly making a valiant effort to not insult her favorite restaurant. Finally, he said, “It’ll be great to get some real American food. Just the thing to make me feel like I’m really back home.”
Destiny had meant to string him along a little longer, but his attempt at tactfulness made that impossible. She burst out laughing. In between gasps for air, she managed to get out, “You call Big Bacon real American food? Which side are you on?”
“Just because I fight for the US doesn’t mean I think it’s perfect,” Ethan said, trying and failing to glare at her. With a sweeping gesture that exposed another tantalizing glimpse of his tattoos, he said, “And there’s the proof: the worst hotdog joint in existence, anywhere in the world. Did you know that during the Vietnam war, we had a hotdog MRE everyone called the Five Fingers of Death? I always imagined that it tasted exactly like Big Bacon.”
“Maybe you should reconsider whether your sister’s buddy is your buddy too.”
“Catalina has a great sense of humor,” he replied. “Like you.”
Still snickering, Destiny got on the freeway and headed north. They were soon on the edge of town, where businesses and houses gave way to fields and clumps of trees. And something else that she bet Ethan didn’t know about or he’d be looking excited right about now. Aunt Lizzie’s was one of the best-kept secrets of Santa Martina. (Secret because locals didn’t want it overrun by tourists.)
She took the exit that looked like it ran straight into a field, and began bumping along the dusty, unlit dirt road. Destiny snuck a quick glance at Ethan, wondering if he’d object or ask if this was another joke. Instead, he leaned back in his seat, utterly relaxed and ready to take on whatever was coming. Now that was a man with confidence.
Her headlights illuminated what appeared to be a barn, but warm yellow light shone through the windows and there were a few cars parked outside. Destiny pulled up beside them.
“Aunt Lizzie’s Back Porch,” she announced.
Ethan opened his door and took an appreciative sniff of the barbecue-scented air. Then, before she could move a muscle, he jumped out and run round to open her door for her. Not only that, but he offered her his arm.
Well, well, well. It had been a long time since any man had opened a car door for her. This night just kept getting better and better. She laid her hand on his arm, curling her fingers around his strong muscles. The moonlight bleached the color from him, leaving him a vision in black and white. He could have been a hero in an old movie, a soldier come home from WWII to find his girl still waiting for him.
I’d wait for him, Destiny thought. Oh, I know it’s too soon. But I’ve never felt this drawn to a man. This just might be my lucky night.
Chapter 2
Ethan
Ethan felt as if he were in a dream as he walked through the night and toward the welcoming golden light, arm in arm with Destiny. One night he’d been slogging through the desert sand with a bunch of men who hadn’t bathed in days, the next he was escorting the most gorgeous woman he’d ever seen on what sure as hell felt like a date.
She glanced up at the moon, and he took the opportunity to drink her in. Her short box braids tumbled back as she tipped up her face, extending her neck like a swan. The moonlight shone on her flawless dark skin and luscious full lips, and sparkled in her beautiful eyes. Everything about her was irresistibly sexy, from the impressive strength of her grip to the swell of muscle in her shoulders to her curvy thighs to cleavage that kept threatening to make him walk into a wall.
But there was so much more to her than looks. She was funny and playful and tough, easy to talk to and comfortable to be with. First dates always were a little too tense to be completely enjoyable, with the unspoken undercurrents of “does she like me?” and “do I like her?” But Ethan felt none of that. He was somehow both excited and relaxed, filled with happy anticipation and the pure enjoyment of the present moment. Everything about Destiny just felt so right.
They stepped into the restaurant. Ethan loved odd, out-of-the-way places. Little local secrets. And Aunt Lizzie’s Back Porch was obviously that: an old-fashioned barbecue joint with rough slab tables, wooden benches, sawdust scattered across the floor, and the scent of smoked meat and sweet peaches filling the air. And open 24 hours, too, or at least extremely late. Just right for a man who got called to deploy at an hour’s notice, and always seemed to return in the middle of the night. It was so exactly his kind of place that Ellie and Catalina must never have heard of it, or they’d have taken him there for sure.
The same brilliant smile that had caught his eye in the airport lit up Destiny’s gorgeous face. “Nice, huh?”
“I can’t commit till I taste the food,” Ethan replied. “Who knows, it might be the Five Fingers of Death.”
“Never thought I’d hear a Marine with such a sweet mouth,” came the dry voice of an old woman behind him. “Or maybe you’re too young. I was a nurse in Vietnam, and what we actually called them was the Five Dicks of Death. When I came home, I promised myself that I’d never again put anything in my mouth that wasn’t delicious. And that’s why I opened this restaurant.”
Ethan felt a hot blush creep over his face. “I’m so sorry, ma’am.”
“Aunt Lizzie,” she corrected him.
“Sorry, Aunt Lizzie. I didn’t see you. I was just kidding my—” My friend? Too soon. Besides, he was hoping to be more than friends. “—Destiny here. Food that smells this good has got to be amazing.”
To his relief, neither Aunt Lizzie nor Destiny looked annoyed at him. Destiny was rolling her eyes at him, but in an amused way.
Aunt Lizzie gestured them to a table. “Guess you’ll find out. And welcome home.”
“Thank you, Aunt Lizzie,” he said, sitting down. “It’s good to be back.”
The menu was written on a blackboard. They both gave it a glance, then ordered.
As Aunt Lizzie walked away, Destiny kicked him under the table. “I can’t take you anywhere, can I? Bring you to the best barbecue restaurant in Santa Martina, you stroll right up to the owner and say she serves the Five Fingers of Death.”
“Five Dicks of Death,” Ethan corrected. “Don’t be shy, I’m a Marine.”
Destiny kicked him again. “I’ll have you know, I’m a nice old-fashioned girl.”
“A nice old-fashioned girl with an M16.”
“You wouldn’t catch me dead with on
e of those. They don’t go with anything I wear. Nowadays I carry a modular Sig Sauer. Fits right into my purse.”
It was like a game or a dance, that easy push-pull flow of teasing between them. Like their wrists were tied together, so any time one tugged, the other moved. And once that image occurred to him, he couldn’t help picturing it: a red ribbon binding his wrist to hers, with more ribbons trailing over her luscious naked body as they lay in bed together, teasing each other with the silken fabric…
Destiny snapped her fingers. “Now who’s falling asleep? I said, what do you do in your spare time other than dancing at clubs and getting pranked with terrible hot dog stands?”
Jolted out of his fantasy, Ethan said, “Basketball. Hiking. Rock climbing.”
“Good stuff,” Destiny said. “Just what you’d expect from a Recon Marine. And all of it requires a whole lot of room. What do you do to kill time when you’re in your tent?”
“Play video games.”
“Ah-ha! I knew there was something like that. And it’s not just to kill time, right? You really love them, right?”
Caught out, Ethan admitted, “Yeah.”
“I knew it. Nerd,” Destiny said with satisfaction.
“It takes one to know one. What’s your nerdy passion, nerd girl? A secret addiction to the Twilight books?”
“No way. They got werewolves all wrong, and there’s no such thing as vampires.”
If she knew that, she’d read them. All of them, from the sound of it. So his guess that she liked books was on the money. “Then what’s your favorite thing to read?”
“History.” She tossed her braids. “Not nerdy at all.”
Ethan grinned as he saw the gleam in her eyes. It was the sure sign of a nerd thinking of their obsession. “Favorite time and place?”
“Oh, I’ve got lots. But let me tell you, there was incredibly cool stuff happening in Asia and Africa when Europeans were huddled in the dark gnawing on turnips and not bathing.”
“Tell me one cool fact from one of your favorite periods.”
“In India in the 1600s, there was a king named Shivaji who rebelled against the emperor. The emperor captured him and his teenage son and held them prisoner. But Shivaji was very popular, and the emperor was afraid that his people would rise up if he treated their leader badly. So instead of throwing them in a dungeon, he kept them under house arrest in a house befitting a king, but under heavy guard.
Shivaji pretended to be sick, and asked the emperor for permission to make donations to temples so the priests would pray for his recovery. The emperor was a little suspicious, so he gave him permission but doubled the guard on his house. Shivaji ordered two gigantic fruit baskets delivered to the house every day, so he could inspect them and make sure all the fruit was perfect, then sent them on to the temples.
At first the guards searched every basket, when they went in and when they went out. But they were enormous baskets and it was a giant pain to have to take out hundreds of mangoes and then put them back in. Twice. And if they bruised any fruit, Shivaji would complain to the emperor that the guards were disrespecting the priests and trying to sabotage his recovery. Finally the guards couldn’t take it anymore and just started waving them through.”
Ethan started to laugh, seeing where this was going.
Triumphantly, Destiny concluded, “And of course, Shivaji and his son were in the next two fruit baskets. Buried under a layer of perfect, unbruised mangoes.”
“Awesome story,” Ethan said. “History nerd.”
Aunt Lizzie came over with an enormous platter and a pitcher of iced tea. “Here you go.”
Steam rose up from the plates. Ethan applied himself to the food. The pulled pork was just the right balance of sweet and spicy, the ribs were smoky and juicy, the coleslaw was crisp and creamy, and the cornbread to mop up the sauce was sweet and crumbly and fresh out of the oven.
They didn’t do much talking as they ate, but that was fine with him. Getting some food in his stomach made him feel more present, as if eating here in the US was what made him really believe that he was home again. It always took him a while to feel that in his bones as well as know it in his mind. The first few nights back, he’d wake up uncertain of where he was.
If Destiny was beside me, I’d always know, he thought.
Though that was hardly the main reason why he’d want to wake up next to her. She was gorgeous and sexy, funny and quick-witted, and they had so much in common and got along so well. He’d had so much fun talking to her, and it was weirdly hot to watch her eating, putting her meal away with none of the self-consciousness that lots of women had when they ate in front of a man, and yet so neatly that she had yet to get a single speck of sauce on her sparkly dress. But there was something else about her that he liked which was harder to identify. Something about her felt like… coming home.
Yeah. Definitely looking forward to that dance date.
Ethan didn’t want to get ahead of himself. But he couldn’t help hoping that they’d do more than just dance, and that it’d be more than just one night.
Being a Recon Marine made it hard to have anything last beyond a quick fling. He was gone most of the time, usually on almost no notice. When he left, he couldn’t say when he’d come back, and when he did return, he couldn’t say where he’d been or what he’d done. He had buddies in the Marines. And he had his sister, of course. But other than them, he didn’t have any close relationships, let alone a serious girlfriend. What woman would be willing to put up with a man who was never around and couldn’t talk about his life?
Destiny might, he thought. She’s a vet herself. She’d understand.
But once he imagined an actual relationship with her, he couldn’t imagine spending most of his life away from her.
A voice from deep down inside of him said quietly, You won’t be a Marine forever.
Another, much louder voice snapped, Once a Marine, always a Marine!
Both were true. He’d always be a Marine at heart. But he couldn’t keep deploying into combat forever. All else aside, eventually he’d be too old for it. And his term of service was coming up in two years. He’d have to decide then whether or not to re-enlist.
Maybe he shouldn’t. There were plenty of civilian jobs that might suit him. He might enjoy being a bodyguard, like Destiny. He could talk to her about it—hell, he could talk to her boss Hal, see if there might be room in the agency for him some time in the future. If she knew he’d come home to her forever when his two years were up, would she wait for him? He had a feeling she would.
Now you’re really getting ahead of yourself, he thought. You haven’t even gone on that first date yet.
But he didn’t feel like he was rushing. He felt calm and ready and brimming with excited anticipation, like he did every time he got that call to move out. Like he only had one life, and this was his chance to live it to the fullest. Only this time, maybe it was also his chance to share it, and find a connection like he’d never imagined he could have.
Aunt Lizzie served their peach cobbler with a glance and a wink at him, like she could read his mind.
“Everything was fantastic,” he told her. “It was… The Five Pigs of Deliciousness.”
Aunt Lizzie walked away, chuckling to herself. Destiny pulled a face at him. “Weirdo.”
Raising his voice so Aunt Lizzie could hear—that woman obviously had ears like an elephant—Ethan said, “I mean, the Five Hogs of Heaven.”
“Super-weirdo,” Destiny said. “Thought you jarheads got down to business. Why are you sitting there babbling nonsense when the world’s best peach cobbler is right in front of you?”
She leaned over the table, giving him a heart-stopping view of her generous cleavage, grabbed his fork, stuck it in his dish of peach cobbler, and offered him a bite. Feeling a little dazed, both by the view and by the gesture, Ethan opened his mouth and let her feed him the bite. The streusel topping was crisp and buttery, the peaches soft and sweet. Maybe it was the wor
ld’s greatest peach cobbler. But he suspected that he’d have thought the Five Dicks of Death were the greatest thing ever if Destiny was the one putting them in his mouth.
He took her fork and held a bite of cobbler to her lips. They parted, making him think how soft they’d feel if he felt them moving against his, and he slipped it into her mouth. She closed her eyes in bliss as she chewed. He couldn’t help imagining how she might react to other sorts of bliss. Destiny seemed to be a woman who lived life to the absolute fullest, enjoying its pleasures and facing its hardships without a flinch.
She opened her eyes—her big, beautiful, deep brown eyes—and Ethan knew what she wanted. What he wanted. It wasn’t too soon. It was exactly the right time.
He leaned across the table and kissed her. Her mouth was hot and tasted like peaches, and she grabbed his shoulders and pulled him a little closer in. Her soft little hands were deceptively strong, and he loved knowing that she wanted him even nearer. He could feel her passion in her tight grip, in the exploring flicker of her tongue, in the way she sighed into his mouth.
A rush of heat swept through his body, and he suddenly found himself picturing the back seat of Destiny’s car. It was big enough for both of them, and they’d have plenty of privacy if they parked in the woods…
A sharp noise made them break apart, startled. It was Aunt Lizzie, banging a spoon on the table. “All the world loves a lover. But not on top of my tables, if you please.”
They both leaned back hurriedly. Destiny’s skin was too dark to show a blush, but if she felt anywhere near what Ethan did, she’d be fiery red right now. He was pretty sure he was. They mumbled their apologies, and Aunt Lizzie departed with a stifled snicker.
Ethan and Destiny looked at each other. Her lips looked fuller than ever, her braids were tumbling into her face, and her skin glowed with a light mist of sweat. She looked like they’d actually made love, not just kissed for a few seconds. Or maybe it had been a lot longer than a few seconds. Who knew how long Aunt Lizzie had been standing there trying to get their attention?