Bad Girls Don't Marry Marines (Rock Canyon Romance #3)

by Codi Gary

  Justin didn’t have a clue, but it wouldn’t have mattered. He looked over at Val as she hit her buzzer, and Ned said, “Team ten?”

  “That’s 112,” she said, half out of her seat.

  “Correct,” Ned grumbled.

  “Yes!” She jumped completely out of her seat, and Justin’s eyes were riveted by the little ass-shaking dance she performed before sitting back down. She looked over his way and actually stuck out her hands on either side of her head and gave him a raspberry.

  Oh, it’s on.

  FORTY-FIVE MINUTES LATER, Ned looked like he’d swallowed a lemon. “Correct. Team ten wins the round.”

  “Oh yeah!” Val yelled, jumping up and doing another little dance while her poor partner looked uncomfortable. The man was quiet, with a balding head, but he had an eidetic memory, which had come in handy.

  “All right, gentleman, say good-bye to your partners and move on to your final table.”

  Val shook baldy’s hand and grinned as Justin approached the table. It was the last round, and the whole time it had felt like a competition between just the two of them, with Valerie and whoever she was with at four wins to Justin’s three.

  “I won!” she crowed as he sat down.

  “Yeah, you’re a rock star,” he said with a smile.

  “Hell yeah, I am!”

  “And such a gracious winner,” he teased as Ned reset the screen.

  “Hey, I grew up being told to be a winner. Don’t hate on me just because I enjoy it.”

  He grabbed her hand under the table and squeezed it. “I’d never hate on you.”

  Her heart jumped at the touch, and a warmth spread through her fingers and up her arm.

  “All right, folks, last round. Remember, this is a teamwork exercise.” Ned looked pointedly at Val. “The category is epic love stories. In Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet, what is Juliet’s surname?”

  Val dropped Justin’s hand abruptly and slammed down on the buzzer. Ned gave her an exasperated look. “Yes, team ten?”

  “That would be Capulet!” Val said loudly.

  “Correct,” Ned grumbled, and Val did a little dance in her chair.

  “Do you have a search engine inserted in your brain?” Justin asked, laughing.

  “Please, every girl over the age of thirteen knows Romeo and Juliet front to back.”

  “All right, next question: Who directed the movie Valentine’s Day? Was it (a) Michael Bay, (b) Steven Spielberg, (c) Garry Marshall, or (d) Penny Marshall?” Ned asked.

  Val hesitated and Justin whispered, “Isn’t Gary Marshall one of those directors who uses all the same actors?”

  “Yeah, so?” Val whispered, just before she remembered where she’d heard his name before. “Doesn’t it have Julia Roberts in it?”

  “I think—”

  She slammed down on the buzzer.

  “Team ten.” Ned breathed out.

  “That would be . . . Garry Marshall,” Val said, holding her breath.

  “Correct.”

  She squealed and threw her arms around Justin’s shoulders, which were shaking with laughter. His hard arms squeezed her back, and against his ear, she said, “You are a genius.”

  “Or a dork, depending on how you look at it.”

  She pulled away and shook her head. “No way. I forgot that Garry Marshall has five go-to actors he uses and you remembered. You’re kind of my hero.”

  “I thought I already was your hero?” he teased.

  “Well, aren’t you humble?” she said, her mouth pursing as she fought a smile.

  “Final question!” Ned hollered, getting everyone’s attention. The man looked frazzled and red-faced, and Val had the feeling they were the cause of his upset.

  “I think we’d better stop or Ned is going to kick us out,” Val whispered in Justin’s ear as Ned went through his note cards.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I don’t know, I just get the feeling that Ol’ Ned is put out that we’re dominating the competition,” she said, shrugging.

  “So what? We came here to win. I figure if we combine our scores, we’re both champions,” Justin whispered back.

  “I thought we were here to find true love?”

  His heated gaze gave her goose bumps. “Can’t we do both?”

  Val’s breath caught and she couldn’t look away. The air crackled around them and was broken only by Ned’s nasal voice: “Jensen Ackles starred in this horror movie remake—”

  Their hands connected on top of the buzzer, and Val stilled as Justin laced his fingers with hers. She looked up at him, but he was focused on Ned.

  “Yes, team ten?”

  “That would be My Bloody Valentine,” Justin said, and she squeezed his hand, grinning from ear to ear. When he squeezed it back, the warmth of his palm spread up her arm until it settled in her chest.

  “Team ten, you’re the winners.”

  “Woo-hoo!” Val yelled and would have jumped up again, but Justin kept hold of her hand, bringing it against his chest. Val froze as his eyes locked with hers, the heat now spreading from her chest down to her stomach and even lower.

  “How did you know the answer?” she whispered breathlessly.

  “I watch Supernatural and I love horror movies,” Justin said, using his other hand to brush her bangs off her face. “You?”

  “Jensen Ackles.”

  He raised his eyebrow. “Jensen Ackles what?”

  “I actually have to explain Jensen Ackles to you? The man is pure male perfection.”

  Justin laughed. “Now, why is it okay for women to objectify male movie stars, yet if a man comments on how hot Megan Fox is, we get shit for it?”

  She crooked her finger like she wanted to tell him a secret and he leaned in. Lowering her voice, she said, “Because when we do it, it’s cute.”

  “Is that so?”

  “Congratulations, you two make a great team.” The connection between them broke when Dorothy Love suddenly stood over them, her hands planted on her hips.

  “Hey, Dorothy,” Justin said.

  “Justin, you seem to be doing all right.” Dorothy turned her sharp gaze on Val and asked, “Why don’t you take a walk with me?”

  Valerie realized Justin still held her hand and she pulled it back. Smiling at him nervously, she said, “I’ll see you later?”

  “Yeah, sure,” he said, and his tone made her shiver with anticipation. Standing up and smoothing her hands over her sweater and pants, she followed Dorothy toward the exit, grabbing her jacket off the coatrack as they passed it.

  Dorothy held out her hand to Val. “Hold an old lady’s hand, dear. My coordination isn’t what it once was.” Val helped Dorothy down the stairs, and as they walked, Dorothy whispered, “I thought you should know, your father called me this morning to check up on you.”

  Valerie gasped. Now that was just too much!

  “Oh, I already gave him an earful about my confidentiality clause, but I have a feeling he might have eyes about.”

  Eyes? “You mean he’s paying someone to spy on me?”

  Dorothy tapped the side of her nose. “That’s what I’m saying. And something tells me he’s already heard an earful, if his telling me to move you away from that handsome Marine is any indication. Apparently, he learned the two of you had adjoining rooms and was none too pleased.”

  Val stepped off the last stair and hissed, “I can’t believe he’d go this far. He must be losing it.”

  “Or he could just be an overprotective father,” Dorothy offered.

  Val released a bitter laugh as Dorothy made it to solid ground. “I think I’m going with crazy on this one. My father is a bit . . . demanding and caught up on appearances.”

  “Walk me back to my office and tell me about it. You’ll find I’m quite a good listener, and another brain working out the problem can’t hurt.”

  “Family business is private, Valerie. We don’t talk to outsiders about it.”

  Her father had given he
r that lecture when she’d told her sophomore algebra teacher the real reason she’d skipped class the day of her final. Granted, she’d never had perfect attendance, but she hadn’t wanted to flunk the class either.

  After her father had kicked Caroline out, Val had met her with money and a bag of clothes, making her late for the test. After explaining the situation to her teacher, she’d been allowed to take the test during lunch but had had to call her father at his office, which had only infuriated him. Apparently, he had planned to put a spin on her sister’s sudden departure, and Val had ruined any chance of that when she’d opened her mouth.

  “He just has this idea about the type of man I should be interested in, but I already married one of his approved choices.”

  “Let me guess; it was a disaster?” Dorothy asked as she tightened her hold on Val’s arm, propelling her down the street.

  “Unmitigated,” Val agreed.

  “Hmmm . . . well, I for one can’t believe he’d have issue with someone who has served his country, and besides that, Justin seems like a nice man.”

  “He is. It’s more Justin’s father that my dad has an issue with,” Val said, feeling snobbish just saying it out loud.

  Dorothy clucked sympathetically. “It was the same way with my great-great-grandparents, Ian and Aileen. Ian was a member of the peer class—had a title and everything—and Aileen had been the housekeeper’s daughter. They’d played together as children, and when he came back from school, they fell hard for each other. When his parents forbade it, he took some jewelry and money and stole Aileen away in the night. They were married by the ship’s captain before they sailed off to start a new life in America.”

  “That’s really romantic,” Val said, feeling slightly envious of the long-dead founders of True Love. Even though she didn’t believe in all of that forever love stuff the way other people did, fighting for each other was admirable. If only she weren’t so jaded.

  “Ha, you think that’s romantic, you’ll have to hear about my husband sometime. He was in the Army, which is how I knew your Justin was a military man. It’s all in the way they carry themselves.” Dorothy waggled her gray eyebrows and added, “There is just something about their shoulders that makes me giddy, even at my age.”

  Val coughed to cover her surprised laugh, and Dorothy gave her a twinkly look. “I’m an old woman, Valerie, but I’m not dead yet.”

  Chuckling, Val said, “Yes, ma’am. And please, call me Val.”

  “And you call me Dorothy. Ma’am makes me feel old.”

  “And we wouldn’t want that,” Val teased, and Dorothy barked with laughter.

  “I like you, Val. I truly do,” Dorothy said, before adding, “but you’re going to have to be more discreet with your young man. I haven’t ferreted out the sneaky bastard who’s been selling information, but I have the feeling your father wouldn’t be above showing up here and making things difficult for the two of you.”

  “Well, there’s really nothing to tell,” Val lied, slowing down as Dorothy shot her a disbelieving look. “Okay . . . well, not much. I told him I wasn’t interested.”

  “Which is the furthest thing from the truth. Really, I can’t imagine being in your shoes and not letting that man take me for a spin.”

  “Yeah, well . . . There’s more to life than hooking up with a hot guy with a hero complex.”

  “And what about love and happiness, dear?”

  Val frowned. “No offense, but love is bullshit. We tell ourselves we’re in love to help alleviate some of the pressure we feel when we make bad choices or let others do it for us. For example, a woman will stay with a man for years, even if he kicks the crap out of her, because of some misguided idea that she loves him. Or a career-driven woman who suddenly becomes a housewife because her husband asks her to. From what I’ve seen, love is about letting someone else control you.”

  “Oh, sweetheart, no. Love is about give and take and making compromises because the other person’s happiness means more than your own.”

  “Exactly. Once you start putting another person before your own needs, that’s when you end up dumped for the big-breasted intern at your husband’s work. Love makes you weak,” Val said, stopping in front of a red-brick building. In the window it said TRUE LOVE’S MATCHMAKING SERVICE.

  “Spoken like a soul who has never known real love.”

  Val laughed. “No offense, Dorothy, but when it comes to love, you can keep it. I’ve got no use for it.”

  “What about your mother? Any siblings? Don’t you love your family?”

  Val paused. Of course she loved her sisters. She would do anything for them, but that was different.

  “Familial love is different from romantic love.”

  “The only difference is you are born and raised to love the people around you, whereas with romantic love, you decide who to give your heart to,” Dorothy said.

  “So, you’re saying the difference is environment and learned behavior versus just letting your hormones go nuts?”

  “Or I’m saying that romantic love lets you figure out where you really belong.”

  It was actually fantastic reasoning as Val thought about her marriage to Cole. She had never felt comfortable with his wealthy, proper family and elitist friends. Now she enjoyed spending her weekends curled up on the couch with a Mike’s Hard Lemonade, Gus, and a good movie. With Cole, they’d had things to do and places to go constantly.

  If she ever changed her mind about dating, she could picture being with a man who was laid-back and fun. Who made her laugh and liked to do the same things she did. Someone who cared about others and who smiled easily.

  Sounds familiar.

  The touch of Dorothy’s hand patting hers brought her out of her thoughts. “You should get back.”

  “Yeah, I should,” Val said, giving her a little wave as she turned to leave, but Dorothy’s voice stopped her.

  “If you’re living your life for you, it doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks. But I wouldn’t let past mistakes and fears keep me from being happy.”

  Val stiffened but didn’t turn around, a flash of resentment shaking her to her core. How dare a woman she hardly knew make assumptions about her?

  Are you really mad at her for assuming, or because you think she may be right?

  The question did nothing to lighten her mood.

  Chapter Twelve

  * * *

  JUSTIN HAD MOVED on with the group to the next building, which turned out to be the old jailhouse, or, as Ned had called it, the Trust Stop. They had done trust falls already, and an exercise called minefield, where they’d led their blindfolded partners around objects on the floor by giving them vocal commands. Val had missed all of it, though, and now he was stuck playing a true-or-false game with a former beauty queen turned hairdresser with a twang.

  When Val finally walked in, flushed from the cold, Justin couldn’t take his eyes off her. She wasn’t smiling, though, and he almost started toward her to see if she was okay.

  “Justin.”

  He turned his attention back to the hairdresser from East Texas, who was pouting at him. Most of the women had been nice and normal, but there were a couple who grated on him.

  And right now, the former Miss Texas was one of them.

  “You aren’t paying attention, honey. I just called bullshit,” she said, her tone the type of high-pitched whine a toddler might use.

  “You’re right. I’ve never been to Texas.”

  “Well, let me tell you, you are missing out. We’ve got the best—”

  “All right, folks. Let’s switch partners,” Ned called from the front of the room.

  Texas gave him an uninvited hug, complete with a little wiggle as she pulled away. “I’ll be seeing you.”

  God, I hope not. He watched Val make her way over to him, but her dark look was following the brassy redhead who had just tried to give him a thrill.

  “She seems friendly,” Val said, stopping in front of him with one a
rched eyebrow.

  “Too friendly. I prefer girls who want absolutely nothing to do with me,” he said.

  Val laughed softly. “Weirdo.”

  “Okay, folks, let’s start this round off with a little Q and A. If you have the feeling your partner’s telling a falsie, call them on it. Good luck,” Ned said, walking around the room with his tablet and a smirk.

  “Why don’t you go first?” Justin shifted, waiting.

  Val hesitated before asking, “Have you ever committed a crime?”

  Justin laughed. “That’s the first thing that came to your mind?”

  “Are you avoiding the question?” she asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

  “Not at all. Despite the occasional trespassing as a teenager and helping Carl Andrew’s hot-wire his daddy’s truck for a joyride when we were fifteen, no.”

  “All right. Your turn.” She waved her hand in front of her.

  A thousand questions went through his mind. Friendly, lighthearted questions. But that wasn’t what came out of his mouth when Ned said he could ask anything. Would it be better to ask her when they were alone? Probably. But it was a lot harder for her to walk away and avoid his questions in front of all these people, and with all the mixed signals she’d been sending, he had to know.

  “What are you really doing here?”

  She seemed startled by the question. “I told you, I’m doing a favor for my dad.”

  “Yeah, but why? If you really aren’t interested in anyone, why drive for hours to attend a matchmaking festival?”

  She opened her mouth, then snapped it shut with a glare. “Because he’s my dad.”

  “Is that why you never called? After your dad sent you off to that girls’ school,” he asked, going for broke. “You had my number. Were you just doing your dad a favor then too?”

  “I . . . I didn’t know you wanted me to.”

  “Bullshit. I made it pretty clear how I felt about you calling, or even writing a letter.” He hadn’t realized he was still peeved that she hadn’t cared enough to do either, but a small part of him must have held onto the bitterness.

  She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out at first. Finally, her dark eyebrows slashed down and she went on the defensive. “You never called or wrote me either.”