by Julie Miller
Earlier tonight he’d been chasing bogeys, dreaming up a threat where none existed. He’d been so damn sure that someone had been hanging around for some dark, sinister purpose. Every cell in his body had gone on alert, just as it had on countless missions in danger-ridden battlefields. Turned out his “enemy” was probably just a kid who’d been forced to toss a snack he wasn’t supposed to have.
He was getting rusty. Even if his body could cut it, he was losing the edge that had made him not just a member of the team, but the team’s leader. The longer he stayed away from Special Ops, the more impossible it would be for him ever to return.
However, tonight, with Tess, those insecurities he didn’t even want to acknowledge hadn’t mattered. He hadn’t just been the man Tess wanted. He’d been the man he wanted to be.
For an hour.
But as they’d cleaned up and dressed in the concession stand afterward, he’d had a moment to think beyond the four walls of that tiny building where he’d been Superman for a while.
What if that was a fluke? Could he prove himself again? As a Marine? As a man?
And had he traded half a lifetime of friendship for one hour of feeling good about himself again?
“Hey, there are your buddies again.” Tess punched him in the arm to get his attention.
Pulling out of his gloomy thoughts, Travis spotted the two young Marines crossing the street to where he now stood with Tess as she unlocked her car. Each man carried a clear plastic cup holding a golden liquid that was surely beer in them. “They’re not my buddies,” he insisted.
“Please.” She stood in the triangle between the car, the open door and his body. “I’ve lived next to your family for almost twenty years. I recognize when someone’s deferring to a superior officer. They must think you’re running this town.” She reached up and smoothed her fingers across a frown line that hadn’t eased. “This block of it, at least.”
“Well, if I’m in charge, then you’d better get inside that car where it’s safe. I’ll follow you home in Dad’s truck.”
“They’re no threat.”
“Humor me, okay?”
“Hey, sir.” The short, blond kid called out.
Instead of doing what he asked, Tess turned to greet them. A damp breeze coming off the water and indicating a change in the balmy weather blew a corkscrew strand of hair across her face. She tucked it behind her ear and smiled as if they were all old friends. “Hey, guys. Did you have fun?”
“Yes, ma’am.” The taller one with the dark hair grinned. “We’re just gettin’ started, though. We’ve got a motel booked for a couple of nights.”
“Good.” While Travis considered their plans a practical solution to keep two men who’d been drinking off the road, Tess seemed to think it was part of her job to play hostess to every Tom, Dick and Corporal who came to town. “I hope you enjoy the festival. Are you here for the fishing, the carnival or the crafts?”
The young man traded an eye-rolling glance with his friend.
Tess laughed. Her golden-streaked waves bounced against her shoulders in a casual muss, looking as if a man had run his fingers through it. He had.
“It wouldn’t be the chance to meet a girl at one of the street dances, would it?”
The kid stared into his beer and blushed. Then he looked up at Tess. Looked at her as though she might be one of those girls he’d like to meet.
An uncomfortable feeling bristled down Travis’s spine. “Was there something you wanted, gentlemen?”
The bite in his voice was sharp enough for Tess to slide him a curious look, but the two recruits had drunk too much to notice. Was that what he’d sensed earlier? Some young pup lusting after Tess? Looking at her in a way she claimed few men in Ashton ever had? Or was that the territorial twist his brain put on things after getting his rocks off with her?
The short one raised his nearly empty cup in a toast. “We just wanted to thank you for the tip, sir. The Bounty gave us our first drink on the house once we flashed our military I.D. They were real friendly to us there. Invited us back tomorrow night.”
Travis didn’t tell them that The Bounty catered to any military clientele because that was the heart of their business. If these two wanted to think they were something special, he’d let them. “Glad it worked out. Now if you’ll excuse us.”
He took Tess by the elbow and tried to get her into the car, away from the tall kid’s ogling stare.
But the young men weren’t done and she wasn’t cooperating.
The shorter one pulled himself up as close to attention as a tipsy man could get. “We just wanted you to know that we appreciate the hospitality—we just got back from deployment. I’m Corporal Jaynes and this is PFC Thibideux. If you ever need anything, you call us.”
What would he need with a couple of red-nosed—?
“Captain McCormick appreciates your offer, I’m sure.” Tess piped in with a kinder answer than what he’d had in mind. “I’m Tess. If I run into you at the festival tomorrow or Tuesday, be sure to say hi.”
Thibideux beamed at the invitation. He hadn’t taken his eyes off her the entire time. “Yes, ma’am. Tess, I mean. We will.”
If Tess were manning a kissing booth instead of a concession stand tomorrow, Travis got the feeling that Thibideux would be the first in line. And the second. And the third. Morty Camden might have passed over Tess to ask out her sister, and dozens of eligible men in town might have overlooked her, but these two men—Thibideux, in particular—admired what they saw. She might be an older woman to them, but if she were available, they’d be hitting on her.
If she were available. That bristly feeling wouldn’t go away. Maybe it was the hour and he was tired, or maybe he was still struggling with a few of those insecurities. Travis slid his hand to the small of Tess’s back in a subtle but unmistakable gesture of propriety.
He might have made a deal that whatever happened between them would be over in two weeks, but for two weeks he had the right to be territorial. “Move along, boys.”
“Yes, sir. Ma’am.”
“Yes, sir.”
Obeying the curt dismissal, the two men said goodbye and disappeared back into the night.
“Good thing you’re not on the PR committee.” Now, Tess got into her car.
“I helped set up the concession stand, didn’t I? I’m doing my part for Ashton.”
“Is something wrong?” Tess let him close the door, but she rolled down the window before he could leave for the truck. She tilted her head toward the stand behind them. Those hazel eyes were a little less sure of themselves than they’d been a moment ago. “Did I miss something? What we did in there was okay, wasn’t it? That spontaneity is what an affair is all about, right?”
Was she talking okay in the sense that her performance had been mediocre, or the fact that they’d acted like a real couple instead of a pair of friends helping each other out?
The first possibility was easier to address. Travis leaned in through the window and planted a firm, don’t-argue-with-me-woman kiss on her mouth. He lingered long enough to feel desire stirring through him again. Her sweet, succulent lips were bruised and swollen and asking for more when he pulled away.
“What happened between us can’t be defined by any simple adjective.” He was reluctant to straighten and pull away from the sultry essence of her that filled the car’s interior. But he was the one with issues, not her. He had to make her understand. “You were amazing. In baseball terms you were a grand-slam home-run.”
He twirled his finger into one of the kinks of caramel-colored hair that hung loose against her neck. “I remember in college one time—I don’t remember the girl’s name,” he shrugged in embarrassment, “but I remember the kiss. I’d just broken up with my girlfriend, and I was looking for…I don’t know. A connection. Validation that I still had it. The details are hazy, but I picked her up in this bar and…let’s just say we shared the kiss that all other kisses in my life are measured by.” He spoke the t
ruth. “Tonight topped that one.”
The corner of her mouth that had begun to curve up in a smile flattened instead. Suddenly, she was very busy checking her lights and fastening her seat belt. “Well. Your dad’s out to sea all day tomorrow, isn’t he? I guess I won’t be seeing you until he gets back. Give me a call when he returns and I’ll cover for you.”
“Tess?”
“T-bone, Travis.” She corrected him as if he’d called her Butch or Fred. “I’m still the same old T-bone. Don’t worry. I’ve got your back.”
Okay. Probably shouldn’t have brought up another woman when trying to explain how great she was. Normally, he made better choices when talking to the opposite sex. Of course, what about his life had been normal lately?
“Tess,” he insisted, holding onto the edge of the door, “I don’t regret for one minute what happened between us. You said this was a fling we were having. I don’t want tonight to be the end of it.”
“Fine. It’s not. It won’t be.” She started the car and shifted into gear, forcing him to release his grip and back off a step. “I have an early morning and a big day tomorrow. I need some sleep. You can follow me home if it’ll make you feel better. But I promise, I’ve been driving home by myself for years. I’m perfectly safe here in Ashton.”
There was no point in arguing any further—she was done listening and he’d run out of excuses. “You’re safer with me on your tail. Goodnight.”
“’Night.”
He followed her practical, midsize sedan home in his dad’s truck and sat in his own driveway until he saw the light go on in her bedroom window upstairs. Then Travis pulled into the garage and entered the deserted house.
He removed his T-shirt, kicked off his shoes and punched the blinking message light on the answering machine. He grabbed an ice-pack for his knee and a beer for his mood and paused to listen to his father’s voice.
“Hey, son. Just checking in to make sure Tess isn’t working you too hard. It’s seventeen hundred hours and we’re moving east toward Longbow Island. We’ll be out of range soon, so I’ll use the radio tomorrow to check in at about eleven hundred hours, before we head back.”
Travis eyed the weather scanner on the counter beside the phone and remembered how the breeze off the bay had picked up before they’d left downtown. He briefly considered getting on the radio himself, but he’d wake them up if he called now. Whether they were anchored on the boat or set up in tents on the island, his father would be monitoring any storm fronts that could affect weather conditions.
Tipping his head back for a long, cold drink, Travis listened to his father continue on. “Eileen’s the only one who caught anything today.” Hmm. She’d gone from “that woman” to “Mrs. Ward” to “Eileen.” “A twenty-five-pound striper off the stern. Beginner’s luck.”
“No such thing as luck, Dad. Just a good teacher.” Like his dad.
Maybe one day he’d have the patience and the single-minded determination to teach something useful to someone. For now, he’d have to content himself with coaching Tess on her journey to uncover her sexuality. Apparently, he wasn’t doing too bang-up a job of that. For a while there, they’d made magic together. If any other men had seen her with that come hither look in her eyes, they’d be lining up in droves to take her out.
But the confident gleam hadn’t lasted. It was his own damn fault for not saying the right thing at the right time. “I’ll do better tomorrow, T-bone,” he promised, lifting his bottle in a blind salute. “I’ll make sure you get what you need.”
Travis tossed his shirt into the hamper and limped toward the guest bedroom. But at the bottom of the stairs, he changed his mind. He was restless enough as it was. Perhaps the familiarity of his own bed in his own room would help him relax.
Aching from fatigue more than any real stress, his knee throbbed by the time he’d reached his room. Without turning on a light, he stripped down to his briefs and lay on his bed near the window.
But sleep wouldn’t come. And he was honest enough to admit that the quest for sleep hadn’t really brought him up here, either.
The view into Tess’s window was obscured from the street. But here in the bedroom where he’d lived for so many years, he could look straight across their yards into her room. Even with the curtains drawn across her window, he was fascinated by the shades of movement.
What was she doing in there? Coming out of a shower? Brushing her hair? Changing into pajamas? Hell. After all these years, he didn’t even know what she slept in. Probably a baseball jersey. That would show off the toned length of her legs. Or something flannel. Then she’d be soft and cuddly. Wait, this was July.
Maybe nothing at all.
Travis groaned and rolled over onto his back at the memories that image conjured.
Who’d have thought—the girl next door screaming as she came beneath his mouth like that? He closed his eyes and replayed every sweet, satisfying moment in his mind.
Minutes later he opened his eyes and turned to her window again. The curtains were dark now. She had to be exhausted after that escapade. He grinned with silly male pride at wearing her out—and was humbled by how exhausted, yet sated, she’d left him.
But the grin rapidly faded.
And humility quickly turned to regret. He’d been jealous tonight, jealous of that kid making goo-goo eyes at her. That’s what she wanted, wasn’t it? To radiate that sexy confidence that made a man sit up and take notice?
As if his life wasn’t already complicated enough—how was he going to walk away from Tess at the end of two weeks with their friendship intact, the way he’d promised? Jealousy had no place in a friendship like theirs. Of course, for that matter, neither did lust.
Long ago, Travis had learned that a deep, emotional investment in a relationship only doomed it to failure. He’d been shredded inside when Stacy had dumped him. He’d been young and rash then—too stupid to know how to keep a girl happy. And there’d been another woman—Gail—who’d claimed to love him, but hadn’t loved the danger of his job. He’d thought about settling down then. But, ultimately, the job had won out over her inability to give her fears and doubts a rest.
The Corps was a mistress who’d never failed him—until a year ago.
Between Gail and the accident, he’d contented himself by moving from fling to fling. He was a natural flirt. As long as both partners were satisfied, he could enjoy the sex, enjoy the fun and move on. And he’d never once been jealous.
Two weeks with Tess should be no different.
But it was.
Travis didn’t fall asleep until the first rosy light of dawn bloomed across the bay.
9
“UH-HUH.”
There must have been something telling in the way Tess and Amy dragged their feet down to breakfast the next morning. Maggie McCormick put away the china cups and got out two giant mugs to fill with coffee for her grown daughters.
“Sit.” As she set plates with omelets and English muffins at the table, it became clear to Tess that her mother was bustling about with the intent of going out soon. But she suddenly stopped, propped her hands on her hips and looked back and forth at her two summer visitors. “Is this something that requires me calling Nancy and telling her she has to check out the craft and antique show without me?”
Tess looked across the table and thought that Amy’s ponytail was just about as messy and haphazard as the one she’d made with her own harder to manage hair. Did the soft shadows of fatigue beneath her sister’s eyes match her own as well? Apparently, they’d both had a tough time getting to sleep last night.
“No, Mom. You go on to the festival,” Tess insisted, inhaling the reviving scent of the rich hazelnut coffee before taking a grateful sip. “I have to be at the hospital this morning myself so I can’t dawdle. I’m just pooped. I stayed up too late with…Travis last night.”
Her body tingled with memories of last night’s powerful seduction. She’d even been a little hoarse when she’d first woken u
p this morning. But the discovery of such physical joy had been quickly tempered by the humiliating admission that he remembered that passionate collegiate encounter, after all. She just hadn’t been impressive enough for him to remember that woman was her.
Maybe she deserved to be stuck in a small town where an influx of interesting, eligible men happened only once a year.
She’d offered Travis her body and her heart that night all those years ago, and she’d been rejected by a man who’d sobered up and moved on to the next woman without even considering that good ol’ T-bone might be the girl of his dreams. Or at least, his bed.
She was pretty much the same woman now she’d been back then—a little older, a little wiser, a little more experienced, sure—but the feelings she had for Travis were startlingly similar. She wanted to be more than a sly way to give his body the physical workout he needed. She wanted to be more than an available outlet for his obviously frustrated sexual needs. She wanted to be more than a summer fling. Had she really been a grand-slam home run last night? Or had she just made a fool of herself over a man she shouldn’t want all over again?
Hiding her face behind another long drink, Tess hoped the steaming brew would explain away the confusion heating her cheeks. Her mother would never suspect that she’d been up late trading orgasms. Tess and Travis had often stayed out late sharing long conversations about love and life and baseball. But she wasn’t up for twenty questions, and she certainly didn’t want to lie about her complex feelings and obsessive desire for the man next door.
“How is Travis doing with his therapy?” Fortunately, Margaret didn’t suspect anything less than innocent had kept Tess up so late. She carried her own empty plate to the sink and rinsed it for the dishwasher. “Just to look at him, he seems healthy as a horse. But have you noticed the extra lines beside his eyes and mouth? Part of it is that outdoor living he loves, but I thought he looked older than I expected at the party.”
“I’m sure it’s fatigue, Mom. He’s had a lot to recover from this past year.”