She deserved more.
Chapter 7
Veronica strolled in behind Madison, closing the garage door to Tim and Skye’s townhouse behind her, using her foot. Her hands were freezing from the fruit platter she carried in from her own fridge.
“Can someone tell me exactly how a coed bachelor and bachelorette party works?” Jeremy asked, dropping the box of decorations on the coffee table.
“Pretty self-explanatory, isn’t it?” Madison picked up a rolled-up crepe streamer and tossed it at him. “It’s the same theory as a regular bachelor or bachelorette party. Only difference is, both sexes will be at the party together. Duh.”
“I fail to see the difference. There are usually women at a bachelor party.” Jeremy threw the streamer back at her.
“Strippers don’t count.” She bent her head to pick through the box.
“Now that’s just hurtful. Strippers are people too.” Jeremy grabbed the box from her with a grin.
Madison rolled her eyes and ducked out of the way when he tried to steal a kiss. “This isn’t even really a bachelor or bachelorette party, given they’re already married. It’s just a relaxed celebration before the more stressful hype of the real ceremony gets here.”
“So, you’re telling me I should call and cancel all those sweet girls working their way through college on the pole? Well, all right, but it seems a little cruel now.” Jeremy took his cell out of his pocket and pretended to dial.
Madison rolled her eyes. “You’re such a gentleman.” She ignored when Jeremy wiggled his eyebrows comically at her and turned very deliberately, giving Jeremy her back and facing Veronica. “Poll time. What do you think? Lots of decorations? Or use sparingly?”
Veronica chuckled under her breath and shook her head. It was like watching children with a toy. But she knew they had just as much fun snipping at each other as they did being sweet with each other. It was purely how they operated.
She glanced around the townhouse that Skye and Tim had abandoned earlier that day. The couple were out doing a cake testing and something about invitations. They wouldn’t be back for a few hours, which provided plenty of time for the four friends to sneak in and decorate to their hearts’ delight for the surprise party.
Bringing herself back to Madison’s question, she set the fruit bowl down on the coffee table and surveyed the room and the box at Madison’s feet.
“Sparingly. Too much of anything and it will start to look like we let a child handle things. Or a pair of children.” She gave Madison a pointed look. Her mature friend stuck her tongue out and went back to sorting through the box.
Dwayne strolled in through the garage door they’d left unlocked. “Hey, boys and girls. I just texted Tim, and apparently he’s already close to falling asleep, and they just got started. Something about rosettes and fondant and I don’t know what any of that meant. I started tuning out and it was just a text message. I can’t blame him for being bored out of his gourd.”
Surprisingly, Dwayne came and sat on the couch next to her. Maybe not so surprising, though, since Madison and Jeremy had already moved into the dining area to bicker about another subject entirely. The heavy weight of him directly to her side was the biggest shock of all, in that it was more comforting than anything. When had she become so at ease with men she barely knew?
They both watched in silence as Madison threw up her hands and let out some agitated animal sound and Jeremy crossed his arms over his chest.
“Have they been doing this all afternoon?” he muttered to her, leaning close so she could hear.
“Only since the minute we walked in,” she confided, giving him a smile.
His gorgeous blue eyes crinkled back at her when he grinned. He leaned closer and she breathed in. He smelled wonderful. Nothing thick or sickly sweet. Almost smelled like what she imagined an open country road would smell like. Fresh, inviting, daring her to sit in the back of a pickup truck, toss her arms up to the sky, and feel as if she were flying.
And oddly, the panic, the thick weight that normally felt like it rested on her chest when she spoke to strangers, was no longer there.
He chuckled and nodded toward the other two. “They get like this sometimes. Really, we should just lock them in a room together and see who comes out alive. God knows how these two ended up together, since they constantly argue.”
“It’s sweet. It’s their thing. It might be exhausting to someone else, but it works for them.” At Dwayne’s expression, she realized maybe she was absolutely off base. Maybe she hadn’t picked up as much about how people interacted after all. “I mean, I just thought that…” She raised her hands helplessly.
Dwayne shook his head slowly. “No, you know what? The more I think about it, you might be right.” He turned to watch as Madison smacked Jeremy on the shoulder with a stack of paper cups, only to have Jeremy rip them out of her hands and poke her in the stomach with them. But before an all-out fight could break out, Jeremy swooped in and planted a kiss on Madison’s lips that silenced any protest she might have put up. When Madison wound her arms around Jeremy’s neck, Veronica flushed and looked away. Their voices were too low to hear, but it was clear whatever words they were saying to each other were not of the sweet nothings variety.
“No wonder he’s always sucked with women. His style hasn’t improved since the fourth grade.”
She couldn’t hold back a snicker. Partly from the image the words brought up. And partly from relieved self-gratification at having read the situation correctly. It was then she realized Dwayne had walked in empty-handed. “Did you leave the party cake in your truck? You really should get it; the heat will make the icing run.”
“What cake?” He didn’t look at her, his eyes fixed on how expressively Madison and Jeremy argued, and then quickly made up, in the dining room.
“The cake for the party.” He didn’t respond, just kept staring into the other room. “Dwayne. Hello?” With no response, she got feisty—as Madison would say—and grabbed his chin in her hands. Forcing his head to turn her way, she repeated slowly, “The cake? For the party?”
When he just looked at her, then one side of his mouth quirked up, she realized her fingers were still tight around his jaw. She snatched her hand back quickly. But she wouldn’t apologize. Nope. People touched like that all the time. It meant nothing. And he wasn’t offended.
She hoped.
“Darlin’, I have no clue what cake you’re talking about. So why don’t you run it by me again?”
Oh, that voice. It lulled her into a happy place, and her body wanted to melt back into the couch and just relax. But Veronica’s brows lowered in thought. “I could have sworn Madison said she called you and asked you to stop by the shop to pick it up on the way over here.”
“She might’ve. But I didn’t get it.” He shifted one hip off the couch to reach into his pocket. From her shoulders down to her thighs, he pressed into her with unconscious intimacy. She repressed a shiver of awareness. This man was not her training wheels man. He flipped the phone open with one hand, propping the other arm over the back of the couch. Its heavy weight pressed slightly against her shoulders, and she resisted the urge to snuggle farther back so that they draped over her as well.
“Yup. Look at that. She did leave a message. Just didn’t notice it while I was busy figuring out what Tim and Skye were up to. Well, guess I better go back out and get it.”
They both turned to the dining room, now empty. Something clattered in the kitchen, and Veronica didn’t even want to know what that could mean. But she was not moving off the couch to find out.
“Uh, are you going to be okay here? Or do you want to come—”
“Yes!” She jumped up, ready to bail out on the intense duo. Every woman for herself.
“…with me,” he finished on a chuckle. “That answers that. Okay, let’s roll.”
Before she s
hut the door leading out to the garage, she called out, “We’re going to get the cake!” toward the direction of the kitchen. Sure, it might be cowardly to not go back and tell them to their faces. But self-preservation demanded she scoot out the door as fast as possible.
Madison and Jeremy never called back, so she shrugged. “Guess they don’t care.” Or couldn’t hear her. She wasn’t about to stay longer in order to figure out which it was.
“Come on.” Dwayne grabbed her hand with easy familiarity and laced fingers with her, tugging gently to lead her to his truck. “They won’t even miss us.”
She liked the feel of his hand. It enveloped hers completely. Strong, capable, a little rough but with a gentle touch. She locked the memory away.
After unlocking the truck door, he gripped her hips without warning and popped her up on the tall seat. Her stomach dropped just a little, partly from the weightless feeling, partly from his touch. But he didn’t even seem to notice, just pushing her feet in and shutting the door like it didn’t matter.
Noted.
***
Mistake. It was a mistake to bring her with him. Not that he could take it back now.
He shook his hands while walking around the front of the truck. He’d almost been able to fit them around her entire waist, she was so tiny. But the look she’d given him when he boosted her up… Whether she realized it or not, it was one that said she was interested. Curious. Wondering about the really untimely spark that seemed to happen between them. And it scared the shit out of him.
Dwayne hopped up into the cab and, before she could speak, he turned on the radio to a level high enough to discourage talking but not so loud it’d blast her eardrums out. He needed to think. Not chew the fat.
Untimely was only the first of a billion words he could use for the thing he felt around Veronica. It wasn’t outright lust. No, that was easy to define, and he could identify that in a second. And what’s more, lust could be substituted easily with a simple one-night stand. Or hell, his hand.
This was more comfortable than a hot punch of lust. Like they’d been friends for years. Like they could just lie on the front porch, shoulder to shoulder, watching the sun go down and say absolutely nothing. And enjoy it.
Which was crazy, given he’d known her for less than a month.
She couldn’t be right for him anyway, even if he was looking. She was shy, quiet. And he’d guess she’d cower if he said boo.
Except, when he’d momentarily freaked out, she hadn’t cowered. Oh, he’d startled her, so who wouldn’t have been a little frightened? But she hadn’t freaked out or called him a monster, which was how he’d felt at the time. Still felt sometimes, if he was being honest with himself.
And now that he thought about it, she’d been changing a little bit more each time he saw her. Becoming more assertive. A little more free with the jokes and laughter and teasing. Maybe she was just a late bloomer, coming out of her shell.
He noticed her shiver and flipped down the AC automatically.
“Which cake shop is it?” she said, fighting to be heard above some classic Garth.
He turned it down with reluctance. “According to Madison’s voice mail, it’s a little bakery downtown. Not the one Skye and Tim are using for the wedding, luckily. Not much of a surprise if we ran into them while they were doing a tasting.”
She nodded and said nothing more. He liked that. Didn’t have to fill the void with chatter that meant nothing. Another point in her column.
Wait, why was he keeping score?
They pulled off the exit and made a beeline for the bakery. When he parked, she opened her door and jumped down before he could help her. She looked up at him with a smile. “A girl could break an ankle getting down from there.”
“Most females wait for help.” He led the way into the shop, a little silver bell chiming as he opened the door for her and followed her in.
Veronica stopped so fast he almost bumped into her and breathed deeply. “Mmm. Oh man, that smells like heaven.”
The look on her face said she’d just gotten her first taste of ambrosia and couldn’t wait to get back in line for more. Dammit, now he was going to be fighting a boner through the rest of this little errand. Thanks a lot, smell of donuts. Though, really, when he stopped to take a breath, she was right. Oh man, that was good. Like warm sugar and vanilla and a little hint of chocolate.
A short, grandmotherly woman with graying brown hair and flour on her cheek stepped out from the back of the shop, wiping her hands on an apron. “Can I help you?”
“We’re here to pick up a cake,” Dwayne said, nodding between himself and Veronica. “Should be under the last name O’Shay.” Okay. He should just focus on the baker lady and think of grandmothers. That should help keep the boner at bay.
The woman smiled sweetly. “Oh, and you two are just the cutest couple we’ve had in here in ages.”
He took an automatic step back, as if her words were actually a swinging punch coming for his nose. “Oh, no, we—”
“Thank you.” Veronica cut him off and wrapped a hand around his wrist… or around what of his wrist she could reach with her tiny hand. “I happen to think he’s a keeper.”
The bakery worker tittered and walked back toward the other room, calling, “I’ll be right out,” behind her as the double doors swung shut.
“What was that?” He glanced down and saw her biting the inside of her lips. He couldn’t stop his own from twitching a little.
“Oh, come on. She was cute and really excited for us. No harm done.” She patted him on the arm, but then started to look nervous and let go. “Sorry it’s such a trial to pretend to be my fiancé.”
“That’s not what I—oh, hell. Never mind.” This was what most men would call a no-win situation. “It’s not a trial. I just didn’t understand where you were going with that.”
Veronica shrugged, her back to him as she inspected the baked goods on display. “She thinks we’re a couple, she said we were cute together. It might have embarrassed her to be corrected, and she was nice. It’s not like we’ll see her again, so why not?”
Why not, indeed? He really didn’t need to react so fast to the whole thing. She was right—no harm done. He might have tried the same thing if it were Madison with him. Someone who he had no plans or hopes of ever dating. Why did it seem so much more denial-worthy with Veronica?
“Here we are.” The woman backed through the doors and swung around with the cake in hand. “I have to say, I think it’s just so interesting how couples are doing their bachelor and bachelorette parties together now. Whose idea was that?”
“Hers.”
“His,” Veronica said at the same time. They both turned and locked eyes on each other, then started laughing. The worker just looked confused as she handed over the cake.
“Have fun then, you two. And many blessings on your marriage.”
“Thanks,” Veronica said brightly, holding the cake out as they left the shop.
Once he helped her settle the dessert in the backseat of the extended cab, he lifted her up once more. But she didn’t stare down at him, just looked straight ahead.
“Are you angry with me?”
Her head turned, confusion written all over her face. “No. Should I be?”
“You just looked… never mind.” He was about to sound like an insecure chick any second. Time to stop the insanity. He got the truck back on the road and started the drive, turning the music down enough so he didn’t feel like a douche for discouraging her from talking to him if she wanted to.
She only hummed along to the tune. Badly, and not in harmony at all. But she was trying. It made him smile.
Fuck!
Dwayne swerved to miss the debris littering the road, overcorrected, and did his best to get the Humvee back on track. Sweat trickled between his shoulder blades, and his cammies
felt like a furnace, trapping all his body heat. The white-hot sun penetrated through his shades. He was blinded for a moment, unable to watch for another IED. Unable to watch for the far-off glint of an insurgent sniper in waiting.
Who the hell was yelling in his ear like a girl? Christ Jesus, they were Marines, for the love of God. Could they not pull their shit together and keep it shut for five minutes? Didn’t they see him trying to keep them alive?
“Dwayne, Dwayne, pull over. Take the exit.”
Fucking almost hit a goddamn possible IED and some jackass in his Humvee can’t even shut the…
The black haze started to drift, the horns started to penetrate his mind, and Veronica’s shaky voice was making sense now.
“Right here. To the right. You have a clear lane, just merge over now. There we go.”
He followed her directions almost by rote, not trusting himself to make the right decisions anymore. He was sweating. Why was it so hot? He was only wearing a polo. But his arms were shaking. And he could smell burned rubber. Worst smell in the world… it stayed with you forever.
“To the right there’s a parking lot. Turn in. Let’s park over here in the shade. There we go. Now turn off the car.”
He sat, fists clenched around the wheel, breathing deeply. He didn’t trust his voice, with his throat dry as dust. But he felt her. Knew she was rubbing his back lightly, talking some nonsense that was soft and low, like she was soothing an upset infant. It should have pissed him off. But it felt good, and he didn’t want her to stop.
“Let go of the wheel now. Come on, it’s okay,” she whispered. One small, cool hand wrapped over his and started to gently pry his fingers off the wheel one by one. They ached as he flexed; he’d held on so tightly. She took one hand between her two and kneaded and rubbed, saying nothing more. Giving him time.
Thank you, God, for small favors.
Finally, the shaking stopped, the sweat that coated his body started to cool, and he felt confident enough to reach for the bottle of water in his cup holder and take a sip without spilling it all over himself.
Officer and the Secret (Semper Fidelis. Always Faithful.) Page 8