by Julie Miller
He didn’t mince words as he checked behind a stack of crates and pallets. “Someone was watching us. Watching the stand.”
“It was probably just someone trying to figure out whether we were open or not.”
“No. This felt personal. Malevolent.” His grip tightened imperceptibly around hers. “A good soldier develops a sixth sense about the enemy’s location.”
“The enemy?” The bay was calm tonight, the ocean breeze nonexistent. Still, Tess shivered at the portent in his words. “You mean like terrorists? Criminals? Here in Ashton?”
Now she was searching, too, glancing over her shoulder at the car driving past, seeking the source of men’s laughter passing by on the sidewalk. She wrapped her free hand around Travis’s corded forearm and slid closer to his hardness and warmth as she identified the shapes in the shadows around her for herself. A fire escape. An old coal chute that had been sealed off. A cat on the prowl.
Normally, Ashton didn’t have much of a crime rate. But with the huge influx of visitors this first week of July, incidents of vandalism, public drunkenness—even assault—occurred. Robbing the concession stand wouldn’t be a far-fetched possibility.
Tess squeezed Travis’s hand. “Do you think we should call the police?”
She’d picked up on the malevolence Travis had sensed. Or maybe it was her own imagination that made her heart race.
“No.” Travis stopped. She heard the even rush of his breath releasing before he turned and laid a callused palm against her cheek. “I don’t think anything. I’m out of practice. My radar’s off. There’s nothing here.” He sounded almost disappointed. “Sorry if I spooked you.”
Though she didn’t quite buy the brightening of his voice or the reassuring brush of his fingers, she gladly followed him back toward the light.
That’s when she spotted a wadded up ball of striped paper outside the fudgery’s fire door. “Trav, wait.” She pulled away and squatted down to get a closer look. She quickly identified it as a bag of popcorn. Fresh enough that she could still smell the butter. “Your radar’s fine. Somebody was here.”
“Yeah, somebody too lazy to find a trash can.” He tugged her back to her feet. His white teeth flashed, reflecting the glow of the nearest wrought-iron light, but she couldn’t see if his grin was real or a put-on for reassurance. “C’mon. Let’s find out if Morty’s worked up the nerve to ask Amy out yet.”
“But—”
“There’s no one here. There’s no danger.” He hooked his arm around her shoulders and headed toward the street. “Let’s go practice being irresistible.”
“What do you have in mind?” Tess asked, letting him change the topic.
“How about a little more of that kissing?” he answered, steering her onto the sidewalk and filling the air with possibilities.
The anticipation was almost enough to distract her from the tension in Travis’s posture. Almost. Did he really want to initiate a training session? Or was the instant vibe simmering between them just a convenient excuse to keep her from worrying about popcorn-eating spies?
Though she found herself checking the shadows along the street as Travis’s keen gaze darted from side to side, the promise of completing what he’d tried to start in his father’s kitchen that afternoon tripped along her pulse and heated her from the inside out. Tess hadn’t been ready then. It had been too much, too fast—and so perfect it had frightened her.
The man could kiss. He knew the nuances of secret touches and bold risks and teasing words, and how they could seduce a woman. But having the sophistication to steal an erotic moment with Travis in his father’s kitchen with an audience so close at hand must come with the femme fatale chromosome that Tess lacked. One yelp of ecstasy from her mouth and they’d have been interrupted by Hal, General Craddock and the rest of the bunch. Not exactly the sort of attention she’d hoped to gain.
Besides, she’d taken an awfully big risk just suggesting an affair. Her confidence had a little catching up to do with her desire. She wanted Travis. That hadn’t changed. And as she walked along, pressed against his lean, solid flank and breathing in his musky, clean scent, that want only intensified. They’d walked down the street like this a dozen times before—his arm looped around her shoulders, her thumb hooked into a belt loop at his waist. But this time it was more than a friendly stroll away from a bar or a movie—this time, it was leading to something intimate, something new. A place where her body yearned to go.
But she needed to take this slowly. She wanted to make sure that she could deliver enough satisfaction so that Travis could enjoy teaching her just as much as she enjoyed learning. And she needed to do it without complicating the two-week time limit by mistaking a healthy, adult summer escape for anything deeper between them.
It was the least one friend could do for another.
She leaned into his side as she felt him relax, glad they were taking the long way down to the corner before crossing the street. They needed a moment to talk before rejoining Morty and Amy. “Did you want to go to your house? Or maybe see how far back we can push the seats in my car?” she suggested. “I have to stay here until the concession stand is good to go, but I know a country road that doesn’t get traffic late at night. When we’re done here, we could go there and play in the dark for a while.”
“Play in the dark?” Travis scoffed, squinching his handsome face into a chastizing frown. “Are you afraid to show off your sexy side, T-bone? I want to see you—and hear you—when you come for me.”
Tess sputtered. “I’m not afraid, I’m just being practical.”
He stopped in his tracks and Tess stumbled forward. But Travis’s strong arms caught her and turned her, scooping her up against him. He dipped his head and his wicked smile brushed against her cheek as he murmured in her ear, “I dare you to do something with me right here. Right now.” His voice dropped to a bone-deep pitch that hummed along her nerves like a physical caress. The hand at her back slipped down to her backside. “Just like you dared me to kiss you at the hospital.”
“Technically, I never in so many words—”
He squeezed her butt and lifted, rubbing his chest into her breasts with a slow, deliberate friction. Her nipples popped to attention, and the heat stoked by the pressure on her achy tips seared away her ability to speak.
“You have to learn to understand what you’re saying even when there aren’t any words.” He nuzzled her cheek, then traced the shell of her ear with his moist, raspy tongue, making her shiver. “That was a dare, and you know it. Just like in Dad’s kitchen this afternoon. I believe your exact words were, ‘I want you to kiss me again.’”
His mouth hovered close enough to hers that the damp warmth of his breath brushed across her lips. They quivered, parting in response. For a few seconds the world lost all logic and she was leaning in, giving in. But a garble of indistinct voices joking and laughing somewhere in the distance pierced the haze of unfiltered desire and touched that one last rational brain cell.
The slight tensing she felt in the muscles across Travis’s chest and arms told her that he’d heard them, too.
A second brain cell kicked in and Tess reached for his hand and moved it to a more neutral position at her waist. Without protest, he let her slide back to the pavement and gain a few inches of sanity between them. “I do want you to kiss me again, and let that kiss take us wherever we want to go.” She fingered the neckline of his T-shirt and smoothed it across his skin. “But I didn’t want my first time with you to be in front of an audience. Your dad has a heart condition, remember? I don’t think catching us on the kitchen floor would do much to convince him that I’m taking care of you while he’s gone.”
He rubbed his hands up and down her back. His eyes shadowed with a uniquely Travis mixture of suggestion and regret. “I bet I could show you how to take very good care of me.”
She fisted her hand and tapped it against his shoulder in a gentle reprimand for his ceaseless flirting. “Travis.”
&
nbsp; “Is that the, ‘I want you, Travis’ or the, ‘No way, no how, not in the middle of Main Street, Travis’?”
Tess laughed, relieved that he wasn’t angry with her. “Both.”
“All right.” He planted a teasingly chaste kiss on her mouth, then pulled away, capturing her hand and pulling her into step beside him. “If you’re gonna go all smart and sensible on me, then we’ll wait. I’m a patient man.”
“Since when?”
He grunted half a laugh, giving her that one. “You want a lesson in being irresistible? Just keep in mind that one of the things a man is most attracted to is that sense of surprise. That…” he gestured in the air, trying to find the right words, “you-never-know-when-or-where-it-might-happen anticipation. Like, you want him so bad, you don’t know if you’ll be able to hold back and be discreet every time. That’s a signal a man can’t miss.”
A woman couldn’t miss that kind of signal, either. Tess swallowed hard. That was exactly how he made her feel. That unpredictability, backed up by the security of knowing he was a man she could trust, was one of the traits that made him so downright appealing.
That was exactly the kind of thing she wanted to experiment with. Varying her routine would certainly spice up her life. Or her summer, at least. She needed to toss aside the smart and sensible Tess Bartlett every now and then. She needed to quit thinking so much. Quit being so predictable. So reliable.
She squeezed Travis’s hand, thanking him, promising him. “Who knows? I might surprise you.”
“You’ve been full of surprises since I came home. Believe me, I’ll be waiting for that—” Two men zipped around the corner of the last building. Travis jerked her back to save her from being plowed over. “Whoa.”
The two well-honed twenty-somethings in jeans and crew-cuts were just as startled as she. And while they raised apologetic hands and backed away, Travis’s grip on her wrist was tight enough to keep her anchored firmly behind him.
“Watch where you’re going,” he warned.
“Sorry, ma’am,” the taller of the two answered. “Sir.” Did his heels just click together? It was hard to tell with tennis shoes.
It was hard to feel any threat, either, when she saw them scrambling to decide whether to stop and chat or hurry their butts on out of there. She peeked around Travis’s shoulder and offered them a smile. “Good evening.”
“Evening, ma’am.” The shorter of the two visibly relaxed at her greeting. “Hey, can you point us toward the nearest bar?”
Travis’s hold finally eased, but instead of releasing her, he dropped his arm around her and pulled her to his side, needlessly staking a proprietary claim.
“The Bounty.” Travis thumbed over his shoulder toward the intersection behind them. “Take a left on Fairfax. They serve drinks until one.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Even in cut-offs and a T-shirt, Travis’s military bearing must be evident to these young men. The taller one touched his fingers to his eyebrow and echoed his buddy. “Thank you, sir.”
The shorter one thumped him on the back of the head.” You don’t have to salute him, Thibbs. We’re all off duty here. Right, sir?”
The familiar humor returned to Travis’s voice, though he barely cracked a smile. “You boys old enough to drink?”
The taller man massaged the back of his neck. “I’m twenty-one, sir.”
“Twenty-two,” the other one chimed in.
Travis acknowledged their answers with a nod, then tacked on a second question that put Tess on guard again. “Either of you see anyone loitering around this block?”
The two young men exchanged looks, then shrugged. “No, sir.”
“There you go with the ‘sir’ again.” The fractionally older of the pair pulled his shoulders back and endeavored to look as mature and on the ball as Travis seemed to demand of them. “We just drove in from Camp LeJeune, but we’ll keep our eyes open for anything that doesn’t seem right.”
“Be careful,” Travis warned. But his eyes glittered with the message that they should still have fun. “Dismissed.”
“Yes, sir,” the shorter young man answered, then cringed as the other one swatted him and laughed. They split and circled around Tess and Travis, heading toward The Bounty.
“Was I ever that young?” Travis commented, glancing up and down the street before stepping off the curb.
But Tess wasn’t in the mood for reminiscing. “You’re still worried about that guy you think was watching the stand.”
“I just don’t like unanswered questions.” Like the Travis of their youth, he chucked her under her chin, dismissing her concern. The reversion to safer, simpler interaction between them only worried her more. Something about this evening was bugging Travis, and for once, she didn’t think it had anything to do with his injury. “We’d better hustle back. I hear raised voices from inside the stand.”
Tess registered Amy’s shouts and grumbles. “Oh, my God. I’ve never heard Morty argue with anybody.”
Tess dashed up to the door, leaving Travis in her wake. “Amy?”
By the time she ducked into the stand, Tess determined there was only one raised voice. Amy paced back and forth between the display racks and popcorn machine, pressing her cell phone to her ear. Morty stood at the counter, holding a stack of candy boxes, his eyes wide behind his glasses. Tess spared him a sympathetic glance. She recognized the frustrated anger on her sister’s red cheeks.
“What do I care if your girlfriend dumped you? Call someone in your little black book, not me.”
“Barry?” Tess mouthed the question.
Amy nodded. “Then scratch my name out!”
Morty leaned over his boxes and whispered, “I believe ‘Butthead’ was the name she used.”
“No doubt.” While Tess didn’t envy her sister dealing with an ex who was more interested in her after the divorce than during the marriage, she breathed a little easier knowing that sweet ol’ Morty wasn’t bearing the brunt of Amy’s temper. “Did you ask her yet?”
Morty rolled his eyes toward her still-irate sister. “I was trying to when he called.”
“Don’t give up.”
“When are you going to grow up? You can’t always have what you want.” Amy continued venting. “Are you kidding me? No. Do not come to town. Do not—” Barry must have hung up. Amy shook the phone in her fist. “Oh…you…” She dumped the device into the nacho cheese dispenser and clamped the lid shut. “Bastard!”
Travis’s clean musky scent reached Tess an instant before he whispered from the doorway behind her shoulder. “I take it that’s the ex?”
Tess nodded.
Amy was wired now, leaving no opportunity for questions or sympathy. She grabbed her purse and stormed toward the door. “Do you mind if I take off? If I get home now, I can trample Barry’s memory beneath my feet for an hour on the treadmill so I can relax enough to sleep.”
“Can I offer you a lift home?” Morty dropped the boxes onto the counter and hurried after her.
“No, I don’t need some man—”
“Amy.” Tess cut her sister off before Morty unfairly took a lashing meant for Barry. “It’s a practical solution. I can’t leave until we’re set up, and you can’t take the car until I get everything unloaded from the trunk.”
Amy tossed her golden hair behind her back and huffed, still managing to look gorgeous despite her anger. Tess suspected her desire to escape stemmed from a fear that she might break down and cry in front of an audience. But her sense of duty was still intact. “I shouldn’t leave you alone. It’s nearly midnight.”
Travis leaned in, close enough for Tess to feel his body heat at her back. “I’ll be here.”
Amy looked over Tess’s shoulder at him. Then she turned to Morty and sighed. “She’s in good hands, then. All right, Morty. Drive me home.”
Tess tried not to notice Morty taking a deep breath and steeling his shoulders as he and Amy slipped past them and headed for his car at the curb. Sh
e turned her face to the door frame to hide her amusement. Oh, he was going to need every bit of backbone he could muster to deal with Amy when she was in crush-Barry mode.
Fortunately, he’d gotten most of his talking done before the phone call because Amy was still on a tear as she climbed into the passenger seat. “You’re not seeing anyone else right now, are you?”
“Me? No. I—”
“Good. I can’t stand a cheating man, even if he’s just a chauffeur…”
Tess and Travis watched the odd couple until they pulled away.
“Do you think Morty stands a chance?” Travis speculated.
“If he’s patient. Pretty much all he can do is listen right now. But he’s good at that.”
“If you ask me, he just needs to haul off and kiss her. Startle her out of her obsession with her ex and get her thinking about the present. She’s moved on before when a relationship tanked. She needs to do it again.”
“Again?” Tess frowned. Was he referring to the summer she’d spent with his big brother? Hadn’t Amy indicated that that had ended in a mutual parting of the ways without hard feelings on either side? “What are you talking about?”
Travis blinked his blue eyes and revealed nothing. “I’m just saying that she’s a strong woman. She needs to get over the Butthead and give a better man a chance.”
“Like Morty.”
“Sure. Why not?” She could tell by the quick way he strode outside to retrieve the last two soda canisters that there was something more to his explanation that he was leaving out.
But she didn’t push for any clarification. She was having a hard enough time figuring out how to move on with her own life. That was a man’s way of thinking, Tess supposed—the Action Man’s, to be precise. Just do it. Don’t analyze, don’t worry—take action. That philosophy was probably what made Travis so impatient to get back to his unit at the Corps. He’d had a year to do too much thinking and was ready to simply do.
In how many ways since they’d struck their deal had Travis advised her to adopt a little of that philosophy, too?