She smiled a little then produced the cover from behind her back. “Legally Blonde?”
He reached for the cover but she danced back, out of arm’s reach. His masculinity just dropped five points. “It was a gag gift. Madison got it for me one year for Christmas.”
“Hmm. But… it’s open.” Her lips tilted with an impish smile. “Seems to me someone’s been enjoying a… what’s the term? Chick flick.”
“Reese Witherspoon is hot,” he grumbled. There went another five masculinity points. This time, when he lunged, she turned her back to run. Winding one arm around her middle, he brought her back flush up against his chest. She struggled, wiggled, laughed, and twisted around. But he didn’t let go. It felt too good. Not sexual—okay, well, a little—but the fun, easy feeling of playing. Just goofing with a woman, with no other motives in sight.
After a long drought of fun, he soaked up the moment like a dry sponge. And when he realized another minute of this would make him appear less fun and more creepy, he let her go. With reluctance.
She swatted his arm and smiled. “Just for that, I am definitely picking this as our movie for the night.” She gave the DVD player her full attention.
“Haven’t you seen it before? Don’t you want to pick something you haven’t seen?” He walked into the kitchen, found a few dishes on the counter, and tossed them in the sink. Then, realizing they were no better hidden in there, he picked them out and put them in the cabinet under the sink. He got down two glasses—they didn’t match, but she didn’t seem like one to care—and filled them with ice water. When he came back out, she was already sitting on the couch, staring at a blank screen, remote in her hand.
“Here. Remotes are still completely worthless to me. I’ll break it if I try.”
“Figures.” He traded her the remote for her glass of water and sat next to her. Not touching, but close. “Last chance to change your mind about the movie selection.”
“I’ve never seen it. And now my curiosity is piqued.”
“What woman hasn’t seen this movie?”
Her brow scrunched for a moment. “I guess that would be me.”
“Okay then. I offered. Just remember, nobody gets blown up in this one.”
“Already scoring high points.” She settled deeper into the welcoming cushions of his couch. A piece of furniture bought for comfort, not style. But she hadn’t complained about the ugliness yet. Nor had she commented on his lack of decor or pictures. So maybe she didn’t care much about decorations. Fine with him.
He started to fast-forward through the trailers, but she put a small hand on his wrist. “No, I like them. Do you mind?”
Who liked trailers? But he said nothing, only put the remote down and let them play through.
He didn’t pull any of the crappy seventh grade tricks, like stretching and leaving his arm around the back of the couch. Or coughing so that he shifted closer to her. But then again, he didn’t have to. After the third trailer, she was already settling in next to him, her side nestled in against his. Her head right in the crook of his arm. Hand placed oh-so-innocently on the top of his thigh. Almost as if she was nesting.
And it felt good.
***
Veronica was following every instinct she had—which wasn’t saying much—to get him to make a move. And despite her new haircut, Veronica wasn’t really ready to take the next step herself. Or, at least, entirely by herself. She needed a little guidance. And he was ignoring her every subtle attempt.
What was she doing wrong?
Though really, she had to admit, simply sitting here next to him, his body heat mingling with hers, breathing in the clean masculine scent of him, snuggling… she wasn’t all that upset by the turn of events. And if she angled her head just a little, to breathe in a little deeper, take in more of him to create a memory of the moment, at least it was a good second to what she really hoped was going to happen.
As she watched the blonde in the movie work hard to get into Harvard, she had a pinch of regret about leading him to think that she was in the process of earning a degree. But at the rate she was going, perhaps she could finish her GED soon and get ready for college. And nobody would be any the wiser. The dishonesty ate at her gut, but she didn’t see a way to correct everyone’s assumptions without appearing to be a liar.
She turned and soaked in just a little more of whatever made Dwayne Dwayne when he chuckled.
“Darling, are you doing what I think you’re doing?”
Painfully trying to seduce you and doing a horrible job at it? “What do you think I’m doing?”
“I think you might be smelling my shirt.”
Horrified, she looked up, only to see an amused smile on his lips. Well, he didn’t seem weirded out by her. “You smell nice,” she mumbled and started to shift away.
“Oh, no.” One thick arm wrapped around her, keeping her pressed tight against him. “You can’t escape that easily. So, I smell good, huh?”
The flush that crept up her neck and spread to her cheeks was almost painful, it burned so much. “Maybe.”
“That’s good news to me, then.” His hand rubbed down her back, up her arm. Now they were getting somewhere. Goose bumps of anticipation and excitement covered her arm. But he rubbed more briskly. “You’re cold. I’m always running warm so I keep the air up. Let me get you something.”
“No, I’m not—” Her words were lost as she faceplanted into the couch cushion. Dwayne standing up so abruptly left her no time to shift her balance. And without his body there, holding her, she flattened. Very graceful, she thought and pushed hair out of her eyes. Not that he noticed. The silly man was already in his bedroom—she assumed—and rummaging through drawers from the sound of it. Veronica pushed herself up and waited, blowing a few stray strands out of her face.
“Here we go. My alma mater.” He held out a sweatshirt that would have fit her, Skye, and Madison all at once. When she didn’t reach for it, he took matters into his own hands and plopped the shirt down over her head, rendering her blind as hair swooped back into her eyes.
“Dwayne, I’m really not—”
“I should have thought about you. I like the air cold, helps me sleep better. After so many months in suffocating heat, it just feels better. But your shoulders and arms…” He trailed off as he helped nudge her arms through the correct holes and rolled the sweatshirt down to her knees. He laughed a little, then stepped back.
She blew again, using her fingers to scrape the hair from her face. So much for her newly styled do. And for the shirt she borrowed from Madison. The entire effect from the knees up was covered by soft gray fabric. But Dwayne didn’t seem to mind her odd appearance. Actually, he was looking at her a little strangely. Like they’d just met, and he knew he’d seen her face before but could not place it.
Finally, he stepped to her again, cupping her face in his large, warm hands. “I forget how small you are sometimes. How delicate you are. I’m clumsy, and big. And I don’t think I’ve been delicate a day in my life.” He stared at his thumb while it rubbed over one of her cheeks. “I feel like sometimes you might startle easily. I hope that’s not out of fear from me. My size, or my… issues.”
“Oh.” Oh, this sweet man. So big, tough, and so soft inside. She wanted to cry a little at the gentleness. Mirroring his position, placing her hands on his face, she shook her head. “No. Not afraid. Men can make me nervous. But not you.” It was the total truth.
Something changed in his eyes. They almost darkened in color, if that were actually possible. And it was the last thing she saw when he bent down and kissed her.
Nothing gentle this time. No, more of a claiming. A declaration to the world—even though there were only two there—that this was what he wanted, and nobody could stop him. She desperately fought to make mental notes. To remember every taste, every move. And when his tongue probed inside, she
didn’t even gasp. No. She wanted it. Here was exactly what she had been looking for. The passion previously denied her. This was what she craved, deeply, darkly. And the satisfaction of grabbing it for herself, of sharing it with Dwayne, was almost too much.
His hands slid down her arms, over the back of his sweatshirt until he gripped her bottom. She inched forward at the touch, and he took the invitation for what it was. Gripping just under each cheek, he hefted her up. As if the entire thing was natural, as if they did this every day, she knew what he wanted her to do. She wound her legs around his hips, as if clinging to a tree.
She squealed a little when he started to walk. Where, she had no clue. But she wasn’t going to break their kiss to look and see. When her back nudged against a wall, she let out a puff of breath. And he took the chance to work his way down to the pulse of her neck, beating so hard she thought it might just jump out through her skin and run laps around the room.
“Oh. Okay, yes.” The words were a whisper; she didn’t even mean to say them. But Dwayne heard, and it only seemed to encourage him. He squeezed her bottom, then one hand was on her stomach, under the sweatshirt and tank top. The skin-to-skin contact startled her, but she wasn’t about to stop him.
“We still okay?” he asked, lips now just below her earlobe.
“Mmm.” How could he form full sentences? His hands brushed, massaged her stomach, and her whole body clenched to wonder where he was headed. Up… or down?
She knew he was wondering the same thing, and the tension in his shoulders told her he’d made his choice when—
Knock knock.
His body jerked, as if he’d been shot. Then he let his forehead thump against the wall next to hers. His breath was hot on her neck, still damp from his kisses.
“I’m sorry.” He groaned the words out, as if he couldn’t believe himself. “I’m so sorry.”
How did you say I don’t accept your apology, now get over it and do it again?
The knock came again, pounding so hard the door rattled in the frame. “Pizza delivery!”
This time, he let go of her legs slowly so she slid down his body in a kind of evil torment. Her skin felt alive, like it was ready to be brushed all over. But he didn’t give her a second glance as he walked to the front door.
Chapter 15
Dwayne waited until Veronica’s shift was almost over before walking into Fletchers. She didn’t know he was coming, had warned him she wouldn’t be available today for a date because she’d be too exhausted to think straight after working a double. But when he’d mentioned offhand that she worked too hard and could use the break, she’d simply said she needed the money.
He could relate, as much as he hated to think that she might be scrimping. Paying for college was hard, he’d been there, though he’d lucked into a football scholarship to pay the way, and ROTC to help with the rest. She didn’t have those options. And much as he’d like to help, he knew she wouldn’t accept any assistance. But really, letting him buy one textbook or something wouldn’t hurt, would it?
Come to think of it, he didn’t actually know where she was going to school. He’d assumed the local community college, but maybe she was taking courses online through a distance program. What the hell was she even studying?
Well, that’s what dating was for. He’d ask her. Tonight. His plan of having a late dinner in her apartment’s oven—thanks to Madison—would be just the thing to help her relax. And with Madison and Jeremy eating with them, no temptation to push her well past the boundaries he’d set for himself.
Pushing too far too fast wasn’t going to do either of them any good. This was something serious—for him anyway, and he hoped for her too.
“Hey,” the hostess, a short redhead with a nice smile beamed at him. “I remember you. Skye’s friend Dwayne. Right?”
“You got it. But I’m here waiting on Veronica now.”
The woman checked her book. “She actually got hit with a last-minute table, poor thing. So she’ll be hanging back a little longer than usual. But I’ll let her know you’re here.”
“Don’t worry about it,” he tried, too little too late. The hostess scrambled back toward the kitchen to tell her he was there. Not that he didn’t mind the anticipation. But he also knew she had a job to finish, so he hoped she didn’t feel pressured to hustle. He’d just tell her he would come back in a few.
“Hi there.” Another server, tall with obviously bleached hair, walked over. “I hear you’re looking for a waitress.”
If there was a picture for the term blatantly sexual, this female would have it all. From the bedroom eyes to the practiced pout to the way she stood just a little too close, it made him want to run the opposite direction.
A little funny, actually, since before his deployment, the type of woman out for a simple night of fun would have been much more appealing. He took a nice big step back and stuck his hands in his pockets. “Waiting for one server in particular. Veronica.”
Her eyes widened in surprise and the bedroom kitten routine was quickly replaced with an attitude of You’re shitting me, right? “The little mouse? I mean, don’t get me wrong, she’s a sweetheart. But I’m just a little shocked.”
The kitten calling his woman a mouse. Now there was something he didn’t care to hear. “Right. Well, if you see her, let her know I’m—”
“Hi.” Veronica popped up from behind the other woman, completely oblivious to the predatory glances fired her direction. She stopped short, not reaching for him. But he wasn’t disappointed. Not in her nature to do the whole PDA thing, especially at work. He kinda liked that about her. That her affections were special enough to keep them quiet. “I heard you were up here. I’m sorry, did I get dates mixed up?” She glanced up at him, then back to the dining area, as if only half her attention were being given.
“No, I thought you’d be done by now, but it’s fine. I just thought I’d surprise you if I could with some dinner. Madison’s getting things started, and I thought we could hang out at your place afterward, just relax.” Now that he said it, it was starting to sound more stupid by the minute. She looked completely worn out and run-down, as if she’d been running around for hours. Probably had. She’d be too tired to even sit and watch TV with him. This was dumb.
“Oh,” she breathed. He felt her full attention on him now, like a blast of warmth, and when she smiled the warmth curled through his body and landed in his gut. “That’s really sweet. I’d like that. But I just got set with a table and—”
“And you’ll be later than normal. Yeah, she told me. That’s fine. Do your thing, no rush. There’s a bike shop two blocks down. I’m gonna walk down there and look for a birthday gift for Jeremy.”
“Okay.” Then more strongly, “Okay, great.” She grinned. “I think I have enough energy to push through now.” She placed one hand on his arm and squeezed. “Thanks.”
Even after she left, he still felt the tingle on his skin from that one moment of contact. It was more than she’d normally given him in front of others, and he didn’t want to read into it, but he couldn’t help but feel a little encouraged. Turning on his heel, ignoring the bleach-blond server still standing in the area like a mannequin, he headed back out and walked to the bike store, intent on finding something for Jeremy… even though his birthday was four months away.
***
“Spill the magic beans, blondie.”
Veronica didn’t say a word, just continued to punch in her last table’s order, double-checking it before hitting the button to send it back to the kitchen. When she was finally done, she looked up at Steph. “Hmm?”
Steph rolled her eyes. “Nice act. I’m talking about the guy. The one with the muscles up there at the hostess stand? Tall, brawny, sexy as sin? He was here for you. So how the hell did that happen?”
“Oh. Dwayne.” She stepped carefully around the other woman and made her way
to the silverware tray, trying to look busy so maybe she’d be left alone. No luck. Steph just followed her like a child’s pull toy, as if she had nothing better to do. Which was a total lie; there was always something to do in the back of the restaurant. “He’s friends with Skye.”
“But he was here to see you. Told me so himself.”
He had? That made her smile as a reflex, which Steph caught and almost sneered back. “So I know you’re not burning the sheets up with him. What’s the catch?”
“Burning the sheets.” She said it slowly, not liking the way it sounded.
“The horizontal tango. Bumping uglies.” When Veronica said nothing, Steph’s lip curled with disgust. “Jesus, you don’t know shit, do you?”
She placed another silverware roll in the tray with precision and lined it up perfectly with the others, avoiding making eye contact. Why encourage her? “You’re referring to making love. I actually realized what you meant from the start. I just didn’t feel like responding to the crude way you described it.”
“Making love. Right. Whatever.” All at once, Steph seemed to lose the hostile attitude and slumped back against the wall. “A man like that is the definition of the word virile. A woman’s ovaries itch just looking at him.”
None of that sounded very pleasant, but Veronica didn’t want to encourage her so she kept her mouth shut.
Sliding her a sidelong glance, Steph smiled. But as usual, the gesture looked more like a threat than a sign of friendship. “A woman would have to double down on her protection to avoid getting knocked up by a strappin’ country boy like that.”
Veronica filed the information away in the back of her mind, but wasn’t entirely sure what she was supposed to say to that. What she was sure of was that it didn’t need to be a conversation they had at work. “I think we all have chores to finish for closing.”
Not at all dissuaded, Steph gave her a slow look up and down. “You’re cute. I mean, cuter now since you whacked off all that freaking hair.”
Officer and the Secret (Semper Fidelis. Always Faithful.) Page 16