When he’d finished, she took the soap from him and returned the favor. Her touch was light and confident, but far from clinical. She seemed to be drinking in every inch of him as she washed. Her eyes were wide and her lips parted slightly.
“You have a beautiful body, Brett.”
He couldn’t resist lightly swatting her bottom. “Thank you, but I think you stole my line, sugar.”
“Mmm maybe.” She set the soap down and glanced up at him, water trickling down her face. “In your letter you said something along the lines of there being no other women. That was a charming guy lie, right? Just trying to win me over? I swear I won’t be upset.”
That line in the letter, he’d hesitated before putting that in, wondering if it’d make him sound like a complete loser.
“It wasn’t a lie,” he admitted with a brief smile, staring down at her. “On the ship, for six months, it was basically a cruise of abstinence. When I got back all I could think about was you.” He shook his head, hating how he’d handled things. “And I blew it and let you go. I went out for a few weeks, determined to find someone else to sleep with—”
“Actually, maybe I don’t want to hear this.” She gave a halfhearted laugh and turned off the water, reaching to open the shower door.
He stopped her, catching her wrist and turning her back to face him.
“I figured out pretty quick that it wasn’t going to happen. I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I couldn’t even muster up a tenth of the desire for another woman that I felt for you. I stopped trying,” he admitted. “I figured it could only be so long before someone came along and got me all riled up again, and I’d just wait it out, but it never happened. Then you walked back into my life and I knew I couldn’t let you walk away again.”
Her gaze searched his, as if looking for any sign that he was lying. A combo of surprise and dismay registered in her eyes before she glanced away.
This time when she slipped out of the shower, he didn’t stop her, but followed. He grabbed a towel from under the sink and started a slow patting down of her body.
“Why don’t you do permanent? Not judging by any means, only curious.”
He hesitated. “I’ve done permanent. It just doesn’t work for me.”
“You’ve been in a serious relationship then?”
“Some consider marriage pretty serious, some not so much.”
The heat that had been spreading through Kenzie as he patiently dried her body chilled a degree.
“You were married?”
“Only for a couple years and it was pretty early into my Navy career.”
Why it shocked her at all was silly. He had to be in his mid-thirties. For a man not to have been married was a little more uncommon.
“She couldn’t handle being a Navy wife,” he continued without much emotion. “Couldn’t handle having her husband gone for months on end. She craved attention too much, not to mention craved other things.”
It would be hard, but if you loved somebody you dealt with it. Kenzie pressed her mouth together and shook her head.
“She cheated then?”
“Yes.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Thank you. I’m not the first guy this has happened to. A lot of Navy spouses can’t handle it.” He gave her arse another pat and then turned the towel on himself. “And girlfriends for that matter. I had a serious girlfriend before my wife, and one several years ago after I’d divorced.”
Kenzie was a bit surprised to realize she held no jealousy hearing him talk about his past with women, simply an honest curiosity. She reached for her clothes and started to dress again.
“What happened with them?”
“Somewhat the same deal. One ended up sleeping around with what seemed like every guy in town while I was gone, the other struggled with depression while I was on leave, and ultimately that caused her to find comfort from another guy too. Or that was how she explained it.”
“Shite, Brett, I’m sorry.” She shook her head. “You told me I had bad luck with men, but it sounds like your luck with women has been just as awful.”
“It hasn’t been the best.” He tossed the towel in a plastic hamper in the corner.
He walked past her out of the bathroom and made his way back to the bedroom. She followed, fully dressed again.
“I realized what works and doesn’t work for me,” he continued. “Serious, long-term relationships don’t. Nowadays I keep my relationships, or lack thereof, brief. But I’m honest about it going in. I don’t do long-term. That way no one gets attached, there’s no pain of missing me when I’m on the boat, or me missing them. It’s neat and tidy.”
She bristled and folded her arms across her chest. “Sounds a bit lonely too. Is that the way you intend to live your life then? Just occasional flings?”
“Yes,” he admitted bluntly, pulling on a pair of briefs and then his jeans over it. “Until I retire. That’s my plan.”
“Until you retire?” How many bloody years was that?
He grabbed a T-shirt and turned to face her. “It’s not as crazy as it sounds. I’m thirty-five. In three years I’ll have served twenty in the Navy which means I can retire.”
“Oh.” She blinked as that sank in. “That’s quite early.”
“That’s the military for you. Once I’m living a civilian life, have a normal job, I can be a better boyfriend or husband who’s home more often than not.”
“Or maybe you simply got involved with complete bitches who didn’t know what the word commitment meant,” she retorted. “I’m certain not every Navy wife or girlfriend cheats on her husband.”
“You’re probably right, but I’m done trying to find out.” He turned to face her, his gaze somber. “I don’t want to lead you on, Kenzie. I want to be as up front—”
She held up her hand, urging him to stop. “You’re not leading me on, Brett. You’ve been quite honest that you weren’t looking for serious—and as you know, neither am I. It’s just irritating to hear you write off all women on the shite behavior of a few.”
“I know. I try not to, but it happens.” He paused. “So where do we go from here?”
She bit her lip and sighed. That was a bloody good question. Did she want to get involved with Brett on a casual basis? Maybe he could be a good transition into dating again. Into having a normal sex life. A few times having good sex with Brett might not be a bad idea. Clearly they fit well on a sexual level, and even a communicative one.
Still, she hesitated. “I’m not quite sure. Can I have a bit of time to think about it?”
He slowly closed the distance between them and pulled her into his arms. His lips lowered to hers and he took her mouth in a slow, thorough kiss.
“Please do. I want you, Kenzie. I would love to have the opportunity to…” He paused, giving a wry smile. “…go all the way together.”
She laughed, loving that they could joke about this and have fun with each other.
“Aye, looking for a home run are we?”
“Absolutely. Batter up.” He kissed her again. “Do you need my number?”
“I’ve got it.” She traced a finger down his jaw, felt the stubble there. He needed a shave.
“Are you going to give me your number?”
“Not yet.” She pulled her hand away and stepped back.
He winced. “Denied.”
“You know where I work,” she reminded him. “And I’m sure you’ll hear from me soon.”
“I hope so. Are you leaving already?” He moved to make the bed.
“Aye. I have an assignment due tomorrow morning. I’ve completely blown it off this weekend.”
He arched a brow. “You’re in school? For what kind of degree?”
“Paralegal, ultimately. The past few years I’ve taken classes at a community college off the island, and now I’m finishing up with some electives online. I’m close to getting the degree.”
“Good for you.”
She didn’t need or nece
ssarily want his approval, but still a flush of pleasure ran through her at the gleam of it in his eyes. The hint of surprise and respect there irritated her a bit, though.
“I love our pub, and I’ve worked there since I was legally able to, but this is also something I want to do.”
“You don’t need to defend yourself, Kenzie. The pub is an amazing place, but it’s your brother’s baby. It’s completely understandable you’d want more for yourself.”
It was disturbing how fast he’d nailed it. And how she was starting to think about having him just nail her.
Slow down, girl. Use more than your hormones alone to make decisions.
And wow, he was still making that bed. Stretching every sheet and blanket until there wasn’t a visible wrinkle anywhere. Must be that military thing. God, she’d love to see his reaction if he saw her made bed—or comforter in a clump on top of it. Making beds? Who had time for that sort of nonsense?
“Thank you.” She nodded. “For everything this morning and for forgiving me for yesterday.”
“Nothing to forgive.”
Her lips quirked with amusement. “Don’t go so easy on me. I knew damn well you’d be on your arse by the time I was through with you.”
“In that case, I look forward to retribution of the…pleasurable kind.”
It was a nonthreatening threat, not really designed to make her afraid, but more aroused. It worked.
“We’ll see,” she murmured flippantly. “But in the future, lay off the whisky, sailor. Your head for it isn’t as big as your ego thinks it is.”
She only just avoided the pillow he tossed her way, before she ducked out the door.
“Are you singing, Chief?”
Guilty as charged. It was Monday morning and Brett had been enjoying being alone for the quiet start. He usually arrived a half hour earlier than the troops did, using the time to check e-mails and read over what had to be done today. Get shit in order. Not to mention it allowed him to watch from a distance to see who, out of the twenty-four troops he was in charge of, was late or who was early.
And this morning he’d been so deep in thought he hadn’t even realized his men were arriving.
Brett wiped the sappy smile off his face and turned to face Simmons, who’d come up behind him. There was still ten minutes ’til day check started.
“I’m not much for singing.” Not usually.
“No. I’m pretty sure you were, Chief.” Simmons grinned. “‘Whiskey River’? Willie Nelson, right?”
Shit. Caught red-handed. “Surprised you’d be familiar with that kind of music.”
“My grandpa used to sing that song all the time. Grew up on Willie Nelson.” Simmons folded his arms across his chest. “This wouldn’t have anything to do with a pretty Scottish girl named Kenzie and the Highland Games would it?”
“None of your business.”
“Right, of course.” The sailor’s lips quirked. “How was your head yesterday?”
Hell, was he really taking shit from one of his men? “You know what? You should go line up.”
“Yes, Chief.”
Simmons must’ve gotten the unspoken reprimand, but it didn’t stop him from laughing softly as he made his way to join the rest of the troops.
Well shit. He should’ve expected some ribbing from the guys this morning. They’d finally succeeded in getting their chief drunk. Only they’d had very little to do with it, Kenzie had done all the work.
But they were the ones who’d gotten his drunken ass safely home—only after a visit to Taco Bell, of course. They could enjoy the memory, because it sure as shit wouldn’t be happening again anytime soon.
Brett leaned back in his chair and continued to watch his troops file in. Getting ready for shift on a summery Monday morning, with his mind slipping back in time twenty-four hours.
Breakfast in bed. Luscious breasts in his hands. His mouth. A sexy strawberry blonde kissing his neck while she stroked him off in the shower.
After just over a year of not touching, or being touched by, a female, he’d come in her hand like Mount St. Helens.
A year. When the fucking hell had he ever gone a year without sex? Maybe in his teen years when he’d been single. Then there was the time he’d come close while married to Eden and he was out on the ship. He’d returned to find his wife not in the mood—only later to realize she’d been getting her rocks off with another sailor who’d been on shore leave.
Now here he was single and with no reason not to be out sleeping around if he wanted. But that was just it. He only wanted one woman and, unfortunately, it watered down his desire toward the rest of the female population.
Somewhat of a drag, really. But now that he’d had a taste of what was to come with Kenzie, there was no way anyone else would do. He’d wait if need be, but after Sunday, it was only a matter of time.
“Hey, Chief. We, uh, gonna muster?”
Fuck. Had he really been so deep into thinking about Kenzie that he’d nearly forgotten his job?
Shaking his head, as if the physical movement could rid her from his mind, he stood and went to start the shift.
Brett was at lunch, digging into a big fat deli sandwich, when her text came in.
So what are you making me for dinner? I’ve got a great recipe for whisky grilled ribs. ~K
Relieved that she’d texted him, he gave a soft laugh and set down his sandwich. He was going to need two hands to write her back.
No whisky for you. You’re cut off. My house. Sixish? I make a mean jambalaya.
He went back to eating, trying not to let on to the other chiefs he’d come to lunch with that the text he’d received had just made his whole day.
Not so fast, boy. I work night shift at the bar. My next day off is Wednesday. That work for you? P.S. I hate shrimp, can you leave it out?
Didn’t like shrimp? Seriously? Who the hell didn’t like shrimp? She probably hated crawfish too. He’d have to convert her. She wouldn’t be the first. He typed his response.
Boy? I’m all man, sugar. Wednesday works for me. I’ll skip the shrimp—this time. Wednesday 6ish.
By now he was drawing curious glances from a couple of the other chiefs around him.
“My sister,” he lied smoothly.
“Your sister, my ass,” Jack, another chief, replied. “Who’s the girl?”
Brett set his phone down, with the screen side down, and grinned, reaching for his sandwich, taking a bite.
A moment later he shrugged. “Just a girl.”
“It’s never just a girl,” Delmar, another chief, grunted.
His phone vibrated, signaling another text. With the other guys teasing him to pick it up and check, he forced restraint and took another bite. He chewed slowly before reaching for the phone.
Aye, you certainly are all man. I’ve been thinking about our shower together. Thinking about it while getting myself off, actually. See you Wednesday!
Jesus, she’d ended their little texting session with the most blatantly erotic—
“Holy shit, you’re blushing.”
At the chortle of disbelief from one of the guys, Brett ground his teeth together, shoved aside his shock and willed the heat in his cheeks to disappear and his hardening dick to calm the fuck down.
“It’s hot in here,” he muttered, even as his fingers flew across the screen of his phone. Two could play at that game.
That’s a pretty sexy image. You getting yourself off… I’m just out having a sandwich, but for some reason I have a hankering for eating tacos now. Maybe Wednesday…?
Silence. Minutes went by and he started to sweat. He’d gone too far. She was probably rediscovering her flirting skills and he’d dragged her right onto that filthy path she’d tentatively stepped on.
His phone vibrated and he couldn’t open the text nearly fast enough.
Sorry, Chief, Taco Tuesday is actually tomorrow. We may have to stick to the sausage…you know, in your jambalaya.
Laughing outright now, he shook
his head.
You win this round. I can’t tap my inner dirty man around these guys watching my every move. See you Wednesday, sugar.
He slipped his phone back into his pocket and grabbed his sandwich again.
Delmar stared hard at him and gave a smirk. “So sweet your sister makes you blush, Craven.”
Ignoring their bawdy laughs, he gave them the finger and focused on his sandwich. Tried to think of anything but the mass of sexual innuendos still floating in his head.
Chapter Ten
“Tell me again why you can’t make tomorrow night’s dinner?”
While leaning against the counter of Colin’s house, Kenzie bit into an apple to give her a moment before responding.
She felt the weight of her brother’s gaze as he chopped a head of iceberg lettuce for the salad that would go with their impromptu dinner. After making plans with Brett, she’d known she’d have to bail on her usual Wednesday night dinner with Colin and Hailey. She’d driven to their house today to drop off a DVD she’d borrowed and let them know she’d be missing dinner tomorrow.
Of course the pair had insisted she stay for dinner tonight, and who was she to say no to Crab Louie? Especially since she didn’t have to be to work for several hours yet.
“I’m meeting a friend for dinner,” she murmured, not accustomed to lying to her brother but not quite ready to be forthcoming with her tentative love life either.
Which, seeing as Brett didn’t do serious, was probably a good idea. No matter that she was closing in on thirty, she would automatically be deemed taken advantage of if they discovered she was indulging in casual sex.
Memories of Sunday flickered through her mind and heat swept through her body. Though nothing about what they’d done that day had felt casual.
“Do I know this friend?”
“Colin, my God, let her be.” Hailey walked by her fiancé and gave him a light smack on the shoulder. “You’re not her keeper.”
“No, just her brother.”
“Hmm, I swear you McLaughlins would keep your little sister under lock and key if you could.”
“And why not? Safety first, aye?”
Loch and Key: McLaughlins, Book 3 Page 10