by Cathie Linz
The series of Genesis songs on the radio finished, allowing her to hear the doorbell pealing. Jeez, the pizza! She’d almost forgotten she’d ordered it.
“Coming,” she cried out, grabbing her wallet from her purse as she passed by the pine table in her foyer on her way to the front door. She was dressed in gray drawstring knit pants and a well-worn Taste Of Chicago T-shirt, not that the pizza deliveryman would care. “Sorry about that…”
But it wasn’t the pizza man. It was the U.S. Marine man. Curt. Still wearing his dress blues.
She hadn’t considered this option, him just showing up at her front door. “What are you doing here? How did you even know where I live?” she demanded. “And where’s Blue?”
“She’s with a sitter, and I knew where you lived because I followed you home from Dino’s after we ate there the other day.”
“You were stalking me?” Her voice reflected her outrage.
“Negative.” His voice revealed his leashed irritation. “I was making sure you got home okay. Why didn’t you answer the phone?”
“I thought that would be obvious.” Jessica tightened her hold on the door. “Because I didn’t want to speak to you.”
“You think you can just dump something on me the way you did and walk out?”
“Affirmative,” she retorted, tossing one of his own phrases back at him.
“Well, you’re mistaken,” he said curtly.
“No, you’re the one who is mistaken. This is my home, and you’re not welcome here.”
Mrs. Leibowitz, her neighbor across the hall, opened her door while keeping the chain on. Peering out suspiciously, she said, “Are you okay, Jessica? Why is there a marine at your door? Is there something wrong?” Her voice was raised in alarm. “Are we under attack or something?”
“No, Mrs. Leibowitz,” Jessica hurriedly assured her. “There’s nothing to worry about.” Aware of her neighbor’s well-meaning curiosity, as well as Curt’s well-known stubbornness, Jessica decided to confront Curt in the privacy of her own home rather than out in the hallway. Opening the door wider for him to come in, she spoke softly as he passed her, so that only he could hear her. “You’ve got five minutes.”
He made the most use of his time by getting right to the point. “Why didn’t you tell me right from the start that we’d made love all those years ago?”
“Because you didn’t even recognize me at first,” she replied. “And once you did, you showed no signs of acknowledging anything that occurred between us.”
“Because I—”
“Didn’t remember.” She interrupted him. “I really don’t need to hear yet again how forgettable I am.”
“It wasn’t you. It was me. I had a hazy memory of us in the car, but the next day I had such a hangover that I didn’t trust those memories. I didn’t think they could possibly be accurate. You, Jessie the Brain, with me? How likely was that? What was I supposed to say to you? Hey, I’ve got these hot fantasies, and I’m not sure if they’re real or not. How far did we go in the back seat of my car? I’m sure that would have gone over real well.”
“Why do you even care?”
“Because I care about you.”
“Yeah, right,” she scoffed.
“I want you to tell me exactly what happened that night,” he ordered.
“Forget it.” Her voice was just as tough as his.
He relented. “All right, just give me an overview,” he said. “We made love in the back seat of my car?” She nodded. “You were a virgin?” She nodded. “Did I…” He paused to swallow. “Did I…force you? Coerce you in any way? Is that why you’re so angry with me?”
This time she shook her head. “No,” she said quietly. “You didn’t force me. I knew what I was doing. I knew it wasn’t right, but I couldn’t seem to help myself.”
“And we…um…we didn’t use any protection?”
She shook her head again. “I thought you’d have something, but you didn’t. And I wasn’t exactly planning on doing anything like that that night.”
“Then why did you?”
She wasn’t about to tell him how much she’d loved him back then, as only an eighteen-year-old can. “I… I got caught up in the passion of the moment.”
“And afterward, you thought you were pregnant?”
She turned away from him. “I told you that already.”
He reached out for her arm, halting her in her tracks. “Then tell me something else. What did you mean when you said that there never would be a baby, not for you?”
She wrapped her arms around her middle, loosening his hold on her. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Did something happen?” he pressed her. “Something that prevented you from having kids?”
“Something you did, you mean? Something for you to feel guilty about?”
“I already feel guilty,” he quietly said.
“Then don’t. You weren’t at fault. No one was. You don’t want to hear all the medical details and trust me, I don’t want to tell them to you. The bottom line is that I can’t have kids. These things just happen sometimes.”
It didn’t matter what she said. For Curt, it was history repeating itself. Him—screwing up. He felt as if he were fifteen again, a notorious troublemaker who’d been warned he’d come to no good. He’d had sex with Jessie while he was drunk. And despite what she said about him not coercing her, he doubted that “doing the deed” had been her idea. No, he’d been the one who had set things into motion, and then walked off. What if she had gotten pregnant?
The fact that he didn’t remember the details was no excuse in his book. He’d known they’d made out, even if he hadn’t known how far it had gone. When he’d returned from boot camp, he’d avoided her. She was right about that. He hadn’t wanted to deal with what might have happened. So he’d shoved it, and her, aside.
So much for being honorable.
But that was twelve years ago. He had a second chance now to do the right thing. He could marry her.
He’d been considering the idea for a while now. Thinking he had nothing to offer her, he had dismissed the idea. But now that he knew about her inability to have children of her own, he realized that he did have something. Or someone. Blue.
He knew how much Jessie loved Blue. He could see it every time the two of them were together.
It would be the perfect solution. For both him and Jessie. It wasn’t as if she found him physically repulsive. Quite the opposite. The attraction was still between them. That kiss they’d shared had been hot. And he’d caught her looking at him a time or two, the way a woman looks when she’s interested.
It was time to set things in motion. So he said the words.
“Marry me.”
She stared at him as if he’d lost his mind. Maybe he should have worked his way into it, instead of just bluntly stating it like that. Women liked flowery words. Not that he was any good at that stuff.
“Are you crazy?” she said.
Not exactly the response Curt was looking for. But he refused to be discouraged. “No, I’m not crazy.”
“Then why do you want to marry me?”
Danger—land mines. The warning flashed in his head as he tried to maneuver his way safely through an answer that wouldn’t trigger her anger. “Why shouldn’t I want to marry you?”
Not the most brilliant of replies. All it did was buy him some time. And she looked like she knew it, too.
“You’re an attractive, smart, sexy woman,” he quickly added. “We share a past. We also share some pretty powerful chemistry. Or are you going to deny that?”
He was hoping she would, that way he could kiss her and prove his point. In his scenario, she’d melt in his arms and accept his proposal. Hey, it could happen.
She stepped into his trap, just not the way he thought she would.
“Chemistry?” she repeated. “We’ve only kissed once…”
“I can remedy that,” Curt murmured.
He claimed her mouth with a gentlene
ss intended to reassure her that they were meant to be together, that she had no reason to fear him. Keeping his passion at bay, he slowly deepened the pressure of his lips on hers, inviting her participation but not demanding it.
Having expected a more forceful approach, she was both startled and disarmed by this tenderness. Unspoken was the vow that the kiss would deepen only as she permitted. The thought of her having even that much power over him was a heady thing. She controlled the tempo of the kiss.
Her eyelids fluttered shut as she let his mouth do the rest of the convincing. His tongue traced the outline of her lips, coaxing and promising instead of conquering. But in the end, she was unable to resist the intoxicating potency of his kiss. Sliding her arms up around his neck, she parted her lips and allowed him to taste her response.
When she did so, his mouth engulfed hers in a turbulent seeking of souls. Her body was on fire as he drew her ever closer, gliding his hands beneath her T-shirt with sensual stealth. He undid the front fastening of her bra and then cupped her breast in the palm of his hand, stroking her nipple with his thumb.
Her startled gasp of pleasure was incorporated into their next kiss as his tongue met hers with impassioned need. Their embrace became increasingly intimate, the brass buttons of his uniform pressed against her freed breasts as his hand slipped around her waist to the small of her back. His fingers pressed against her bare skin, making her shiver and burn at the same time.
Gradually the ringing in her ears increased. It wasn’t until it was accompanied by the sound of someone shouting “Pizza Delivery!” outside her front door that she realized what was going on.
Tearing herself from Curt’s embrace, she put her trembling fingers to her lips. What had she been thinking?
“I’ll be there in a second,” she shouted to the de-liveryman even as she turned her back on Curt and refastened her bra. It took her two attempts, but she got it done. She also grabbed the money she’d left on the foyer pine table as she opened the door.
“One medium Hawaiian pizza with extra ham and pineapple,” the teenager said, handing over the pizza after removing it from its thermal wrapping.
She paid for it, including a generous tip, even as Curt was saying, “Pineapple and ham? On a pizza?”
“It’s my house, I can eat whatever I want,” she growled, leaving him in the hallway as she headed for her kitchen where she slapped the pizza on the white-tiled table.
“Sure you can eat whatever you want,” Curt said as he followed her. He was using that voice men used when they thought they were dealing with an irrational woman.
Despite that heated embrace they’d just shared, she wasn’t fooled. Yes, Curt wanted her. Yes, there was definitely a powerful attraction between them. But it wasn’t as if he was suddenly in love with her.
No, he’d proposed to her so that he would have someone to take care of his daughter.
Okay, so maybe he wanted her as his wife because he was feeling a little guilty about what had happened that night when they made love. But the main reason was because of Blue.
She shouldn’t blame him for loving his daughter. She shouldn’t feel such pain because he didn’t love her. What she should do was turn him down. “I’m not marrying you,” she told him.
“Why not?”
Because you don’t love me. Because you don’t feel the same way I do. Because I deserve more than just sex. Because I’m not sure you even know what love is yet, or that you ever will.
“Because I don’t want to,” she replied.
“Are you saying you don’t want me?”
Denying that would be pointless. And it would just give him an excuse to kiss her again. So instead she said, “No, I’m just saying I don’t want to marry you.”
“Why not?” he repeated.
She shot him an irritable look. “Listen, this isn’t an essay question here. A proposal requires a simple yes or no answer. And I said no.”
“Now you’re sounding like a teacher.”
“I am a teacher.”
“And I don’t hold that against you.”
“How generous of you.”
Curt heard the anger in her voice. He wasn’t just generous, he could be patient, too. When the situation warranted it. Because he was determined that he’d win in the end.
She hadn’t said no because of his limp. She didn’t find him physically unappealing, which was a huge relief. He knew a beat-up marine like him was no matrimonial prize, but he also knew he and Jessie would be good together. More than good. Incredible.
But he needed more to go on here. He needed to know what was going on inside of Jessie’s head—never an easy matter for him where women were concerned.
Jessie wanted him, he knew she did. That kiss had just given him a heart attack, leaving his body painfully aching, and not because of his bum leg. She’d made him forget his own name, made him so hungry for her that he’d wanted to lower her to the floor, peel all her clothes off and take her right there and then. But he hadn’t. Surely that proved he cared about her? That he cared about her feelings?
So why didn’t she want to marry him? It would be the perfect solution. To both their problems. She’d get the family she seemed to want so badly. And he’d get someone to help take care of Blue.
It was a perfect plan. Jessie just needed some time to get used to the idea. Or he had to get her used to the idea, make it seem so appealing that she couldn’t continue turning him down.
“I know why you’re doing this,” she stated. Her defensive posture warned him that she was in no mood for convincing at this time.
“And why is that?”
“You didn’t propose to me because you love me, because you’ve suddenly gotten all romantic about our future together. No, you did it for the simple reason that you want someone to take care of Blue for you.”
There was nothing simple about his feelings for Jessie. And she clearly didn’t appreciate being proposed to because of Blue. Curt could understand that. Jessie wanted to be needed for herself. She needed to be…courted.
The old-fashioned word came to him in a flash. That’s how he could win her over. By courting her.
Not that he had a clue how to do that. His relationships with women in the past had been fairly direct, with both parties in search of a good time without any strings. But he’d find out everything there was to know about courting. It would be his mission, one he’d undertake with the dedication and determination of a career marine. He could do this. He would do this.
“I think you should leave now,” Jessica was saying as she headed for the front door, which she held open in a clear indication of her eagerness to get rid of him.
“All right, I’ll go.” He needed time to research courting stuff. He was certainly no pro in that department, but his buddy Joe Wilder was. “I’ll be back.”
“Don’t bother.”
“It’s no bother, ma’am,” he drawled, gently running his index finger down her cheek to the corner of her mouth. “It’ll be a pleasure convincing you.”
“That won’t happen,” she declared.
Curt smiled confidently. “We’ll see.”
She slammed the door in his face.
Turning to find Mrs. Leibowitz peering out at him through a crack in her door across the hallway, he cheerfully told her, “This marine is going to marry your neighbor. How would you like to come to the wedding, ma’am?”
Gasping her outrage, Mrs. Leibowitz slammed her door shut.
Chapter 9
“IMPROVISE, OVERCOME AND ADAPT. Those are my mottos,” Curt told his buddy Joe when he finally reached him on the phone a few days later. He’d called Joe for advice. Instead his friend was giving him grief.
“Are you working up a battle plan or courting a woman?” Joe countered in a mocking drawl.
“What’s the difference?” Curt replied.
“Jeez, Blackwell, you’re worse off than I thought. You proposed to this Jessica and she did not react well, huh?”
“I never had to chase after a woman before,” Curt said. “What are you laughing at?”
“Your ability to put your foot in your mouth. So you called me because, lacking your charming nature, I have had to chase after the women in my life, right? You’re just lucky I’m not a sensitive guy or I’d be insulted.”
“You’re not in special training at Marine Corps Combat Development Command Quantico because you’re a sensitive guy,” Curt retorted. “You’re smart, you know how to get people to do what you want.”
“So do you.”
“She’s a civilian. I can’t order her to marry me. Well, I can, but she doesn’t respond well to orders.”
“Surprise, surprise,” Joe drawled. “No wonder your mission was not successful.”
Curt gritted his teeth. “You’ve never had to work hard to get a woman to like you, although I have no idea why you’re so popular with the female population.”
“Hey, that works two ways. I have no idea why women flock after you, unless it’s something to do with the dark and brooding mysterious loner thing you’ve got going. But apparently that act doesn’t work on this woman.”
“You’ve got that right,” Curt muttered.
“Then what does work?”
Curt bluntly replied, “Kissing her.”
“That’s it?”
“And having her spend time with Blue.”
“Then go with those two things,” Joe said. “Throw in some flowers, some romantic words and bingo, you’re home free. Although why you’d want to enter into the institution of marriage is beyond me. I know, I know, you told me it was for your kid. But I’m still having a hard time picturing you as a husband.”
Curt wasn’t about to admit he was having the same problem himself.
“Just keep this in mind, Blackwell. Romance is a battlefield filled with land mines, and you’ve got to tread carefully or get blown to bits. That’s my Wilderism for the day.”
“I already figured that much out for myself,” Curt retorted.
“Then you’re ahead of the game. Good luck, buddy.” Joe laughed before adding, “I have a feeling you’re gonna need it.”
In the end Curt decided to go with what he knew, marine battle tactics. Infiltrate the enemy camp and gain pertinent information. Search for a weakness and utilize it.