Heart of a Marine

by Patricia (Patty) Campbell

  “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “Hey, I saw the look on the boss-lady’s face when you walked out of here yesterday. It was only a matter of time. So, spill.” He leered past the rim of his coffee cup.

  “I’d rather talk about the Store n’Lock job. I called the guy to tell him I could get on it earlier than expected.” No way was he going to talk about Marla. Not even to his best friend.

  “Okay by me. Talk. Is there anything in it for my guys?”

  “Not much, except for a utility bathroom and a public restroom in the office and a sprinkler system in the main building. You want it?”

  “Sure. I got nothin’ on tap except maintenance and small remodels for the next couple of months. You got the blueprints and specs?”

  Dwayne reached under the drafting table next to the desk and selected a thick roll of blueprints covered with fine dust. He blew on the bundle, and Cluny joined him at the tall table. They spent about forty-five minutes poring over the plumbing details then grabbed another cup of coffee and returned to sit at the desk.

  “Get your cost estimate to me by next Monday morning. I’ve got a meeting with the main man that afternoon.”

  Cluny stood. “You got it.” He rinsed out his cup and set it on the shelf behind the sink. “Fifty bucks says she was beyond hot, Gunny.”

  “You win. Now get the hell out of here. I gotta think.”

  Marla stood in front of her dad’s office and ran her fingers over his nameplate. Bradley Danaher. She turned the knob and peeked inside.

  “There’s my girl.” He stood, rounded his desk, and embraced Marla. Arm around her shoulders, he led her to a large, brown leather sofa. “Have a seat, honey. Tell old Dad all about it.”

  The love she had for her father was deep enough to drown in. She trembled a watery smile. “You’re not old, Dad. You aren’t even eligible for Senior Citizen discounts until next year.” She grabbed his hand.

  “Old in experience, if not years.” He rubbed her knuckles. “What’s on your mind?”

  “Two things but promise you won’t laugh or say I told you so.” She wondered if there were many women out there who had such a close, comfortable relationship with their father as she. Talking to him about anything came naturally to her.

  He chuckled. “I’d be falling down on my father-of-the-year job if I made that promise. Let me venture a guess.” Playing the wise man, he rolled his eyes, puckered his lips, and tapped a finger on his chin. “You’re in love and you’re broke.”

  “Dad,” she groaned and rocked back, “how do you do it?” Face buried in her hands she mumbled through her fingers, “I made a schoolgirl mistake.” Her cheeks grew hot. “I spent the night at Dwayne Dempsey’s house. I don’t know what came over me. I never should have gone there so late. I swear I had business to discuss with him, but I could have done it over the phone.” She rocked back and forth. “I’m so stupid.”

  He rubbed her back. “I’ve had the misfortune to be acquainted with many stupid people in this life, and you, my dear girl, cannot be counted in their number.” He paused. “Now tell me why it was stupid.”

  She gasped and stared. “Because we…because we…ended up in his bed, that’s why!”

  “And it’s a mistake because you slept with him?”

  “Dad!”

  “Was he abusive? Did he force you? Was the sex disgusting?” He raised his eyebrows and waved his hands. “What? Why are you in such a tizzy? Do I need to call the County Sheriff?”

  “No!” Marla jumped to her feet and paced the length of his private office twice. She opened her mouth to speak and closed it, more than once. Finally, she stopped in front of her dad, slammed her hands on her hips, and blurted, “It wasn’t bad. It was good. It was excellent.” Her neck blazed with a blush she knew he couldn’t miss. “I don’t know what to do!” Grabbing handfuls of her hair, she paced some more.

  Dad fell against the back of the sofa and laughed. He shook his head and laughed some more.

  “Dadley, you promised!”

  “No, I most certainly did not promise. I specifically did not promise.” He patted the space next to him. “Sit down. I need to explain the birds and bees to you even though it’s very late in the game.”

  Scalp burning, palms sweating, Marla slumped next to him. He patted her knee, then put his arm around her shoulders and hugged her to his side.

  “My beautiful daughter, tell me why you guard your feelings with such vigilance? What is it about this big bad world that has you so skittish? Sexual desire is normal and healthy. You and Dwayne are unattached, normal, and healthy. Why run away from it?”

  “I’m not Charlene, Dad.”

  “No, you’re not, but you must admit she enjoys life and has a sound attitude about love, sex, and men.”

  Instead of answering him, she moaned and closed her eyes.

  Brad squeezed her shoulders. “Dwayne Dempsey is a respected, hard-working man. A good father. I’ve never heard a bad word about his character or his values. As long as he treats you with respect, I don’t see why you’d make a federal case out of an enjoyable fling.”

  “This morning I asked him to help me with a big business decision and he flatly refused.”

  Brad sat straight and stared into her eyes. “Why wouldn’t he? You always have an air of complete control about you, and you seldom welcome advice or meddling. He’s too smart to walk into that mine field.”

  “I thought he’d…I was afraid he’d be disappointed in me if I made the wrong decision. I cared about his opinion, and all he wanted to do… Go on as if nothing had happened between us.”

  “You were expecting an apology or a marriage proposal?”

  “No. I don’t know what I expected.” Her dad had posed a very good question. She was old enough to know expectations were too often the doorway to disaster.

  Brad uncrossed his legs. “Okay, let’s back up. Tell me about the problem you asked him to help you with, how you got your wires crossed and ended up in his bed.” He rose from the couch and went to his desk, opened the bottom drawer, and removed a bottle of Jameson’s. Without bothering to ask her if she wanted some, he poured a dollop into two glasses and handed one to her.

  She told him, to his chuckles, how she and Dwayne had been talking on two different subjects during the first several minutes of their conversation. “Go ahead, laugh. I was mortified, but in retrospect it’s funny.” She rolled her eyes. “Once we got on the same page though, things moved fast.”

  Dadley grinned. “No intimate details please. I get the gist. So, this morning you asked for his opinion on the real estate deal and he took a hands-off attitude. A wise man, in my opinion.”

  Marla sighed and shook her head. “You’re right. I know it. But I’m still in a quandary about this deal.”

  Brad moved to his desk. “Come over here. Let’s run some numbers. It shouldn’t be that complicated.”

  “I figured you’d ask.” She took some folded papers out of her purse, sat across from him, and slid the papers to the middle of his blotter. “I did this after I called you this morning.”

  Brad spent several minutes studying the numbers then sat back and removed his reading glasses. “Risk taking is often the road to success, but in today’s real estate market it’s wise to be cautious. I can see you’ve been vigilant with your finances, and I commend you on what you’ve accomplished.”

  “But?”

  “But.” He leaned back in his chair. “I imagine you already know this deal would leave you with very little to fall back on if it went south.”

  “That’s what’s nagging me. It seems like a great opportunity, almost too good to pass up, but it’s taken me years to finally reach the comfortable position I’m in. The thought of going back to square one scares the bejabbers out of me.”

  “It wouldn’t be the end of the world. You’re young. You have many earning years left to replace any possible losses. The question is: How much risk are you willing to take, and
more important, what is your ultimate goal?”

  Marla stood and paced some more. “The problem for me is that this deal came out of the blue. I usually plan and think about decisions for a while before taking a leap. I only have until this evening to decide.”

  “I think you’ve already decided.”

  “I have. Thanks, Dad. You know me so well.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Marla’s phone rang as she stepped through her front door that evening, and she almost stepped on Skipper hopping around her legs. “Wait a minute, baby. Mama has to answer the phone.”

  She scooped him up and grabbed the handset on her coffee table. “Hello?”

  “Hey, Red.”

  “Hey.” Her heart pounded at the warm male sound of Dwayne’s voice. Skipper barked. “Skip says, ‘hey.’”

  “Look, I’ve been thinking about that real estate deal you asked me about. I shouldn’t have brushed you off like that.”

  She plopped in the middle of the sofa and petted Skipper. Dwayne’s words soothed her like a warm, slow massage. “It’s okay. I decided to pass on it. I just got home from meeting with the other investors. It’s more risk than I’m willing to take right now.”

  “That’s what I thought, but it wasn’t my place to say anything. It could turn out to be very lucrative, but you never know. Undeveloped land can be a bottomless money pit.”

  She sighed, so gratified he agreed with her. “Not only that…the development costs are always way more than projected. It’ll be years before they see a return on their investment.” She hugged Skippy and let him lick her cheek. “Where are you?”

  “I’m just pulling up in front of your house.”

  She stood so abruptly Skipper did a back flip on her couch. “What?”

  “Turning off the engine, Danaher.”

  Marla ran to the front door, opened it, and watched him step out of the truck. Her heart and lungs floated to her throat when he grinned and waved. His testosterone-oozing stroll melted her resistance. Not that there was much to begin with.

  He opened his arms. “I missed you today, beautiful.”

  A lump the size of a Ping Pong ball formed in her throat, choking off words. She met him halfway and fell into his embrace. An unexpected surge of desire for him warmed her in all the right spots.

  His broad chest bounced when he laughed. “Wow. This is a better reception than I expected.” He kissed her. “I’ve wanted to do that all day.”

  Heart tripping, Marla kissed him back. “Me too.”

  Skipper barked and clawed at his jeans. Marla lifted him up and pressed him to her cheek. “Skip missed you too.” She took his arm. “Come inside.”

  Dwayne closed the door with his elbow. “Put down the mouse. I want to touch you.” He brushed his hand over her bottom when she bent to set Skip on the floor.

  Marla rolled into his arms and kissed him. He pushed her back against the door, pressed his body hard against her, stealing her breath. She pushed his jacket off his shoulders without letting up on the kiss. On fire, she yanked his T-shirt over his head and pressed her lips to his neck then grazed his collarbone with her teeth.

  Dwayne’s head dropped back. “My God, I want to take you here and now, but I need a shower. I’ve been riding my crew for ten solid hours.”

  She stroked his chest. “My shower is big enough for both of us. I have a teakwood sitting bench in there, but I don’t want to wait, Dempsey. Can we shower…after?” Where was this mindless need for him coming from? What did it matter? Nothing mattered more than making love with him again.

  “Don’t want to wait? That’s my favorite song, Danaher.” His hands went to her breasts, her sides. “Get out of these clothes.”

  Marla reached for the light switch.

  “No, leave it on. I need to see you. All of you.”

  Her clothes hit the floor, the blouse landing on the dog. Skipper yelped and skittered out of the way. Dwayne shoved his jeans below his hips and urged her shoulders and back against the door.

  “Wrap those sexy legs around me, Red. We’re going for a wild ride.”

  Hot water sluiced over his back in the steam-fogged shower stall. Dwayne sat on the teak bench and reveled in the feel of her hands shampooing his hair, massaging his scalp and shoulders. Arms around her hips, he pulled her against him and buried his face in her breasts. If struck dead this moment, he’d die a happy man.

  She was very quiet, too quiet.

  “Where are you, Marla?”

  She jerked. “What?”

  “You’re too quiet. Having second thoughts?” God, he hoped not. He wanted this relationship to last a long time.

  She squirmed away from him and grinned. “Yes, I’m having second thoughts. I think we should do that a second time.” She kissed him and reached for the sprayer to rinse shampoo from his head.

  His breath couldn’t get past the catch in his throat, but he didn’t need to say anything, he hummed his pleasure. When she turned off the water, he caught her around the waist and pulled her back against his chest, her luscious bottom to his lap. Hands slick with water, he stroked her belly and legs. “You’re the best surprise since I got my first pony.”

  “Is that a compliment?” She twisted her hips.

  “Coming from a Wyoming cowboy? You bet.” He shifted her to her feet. “Be my crutch. I don’t know where I left my foot. I had other things on my mind at the time.”

  Marla eased under his shoulder. “It’s next to the bed. I remember because when it hit the floor, poor Skipper just about had a heart attack.”

  Dwayne laughed then sucked in a breath when her hand drifted to caress his bottom. He pulled her into him and kissed her. “I don’t know if I can handle you, Danaher.”

  “Yes, you can, Dempsey. Not only that you have. And you will.” She led him to the bed.

  He flopped on his back and threw out his arms. “You’re gonna kill me.”

  “I am?” Her eyebrows went up, and she grinned wickedly. “Why?”

  He chuckled and patted the bed beside him. “I’m so tired I’m seeing double. I need sleep, then food. Then…we’ll improvise.”

  “Are we calling in sick in the morning?”

  “Oh, yeah.”

  “Good. I’m feeling under the weather already.”

  The woman of his dreams crawled in beside him and wrapped her soft arm and silky leg across his well-used body.

  Marla stroked his chest then his cheek. How wonderful it would be to wake up beside him like this every morning. “Dwayne?”

  “I’m awake, honey.” His eyes opened and he cracked a small grin.

  His smile could melt the polar icecap, and she sighed at the delicious tingling between her legs then poked his belly. “I’m getting up to fix breakfast.”

  He rose on his elbows. “I can do that.”

  She threw the sheet over his face. “It’s my turn. I’ll call you when it’s ready. Come on, Skippy. Time to visit the outdoor comfort station.”

  On her way to the back door she grabbed Dwayne’s T-shirt from the hall floor and pulled it over her head. She inhaled his scent and groaned. It barely covered her bottom but was wide and roomy otherwise. She unlocked the doggy door, and Skipper scampered out to complete his mission.

  What to fix? Marla settled on a western omelet and set about chopping onion, tomato, and green pepper. Bacon bits would have to fill in for ham. When Skip nosed her ankle and whined, she filled his water bowl and put a handful of kibble in his dish.

  Eight eggs should probably do it. She cracked them into a large bowl with a handle. Whipping them to a frothy liquid, she poured them in the hot pan then lifted the edges with a rubber spatula.

  “The toast!” She quit daydreaming about Dempsey’s sexual prowess and dropped four slices on the rack of the toaster oven. Then she thought about that prowess again.

  “Dwayne! Come and get it!” she hollered.

  “That’s my intention.”

  She jumped, startled by his voice so c
lose behind her. “Darn it! How long have you been standing there?”

  “Long enough to soak up the best view in Spring Grove.”

  A hot flush rose from her neck at the sight of his bare chest. Dwayne had a manly chest. Not ripped like he worked out with weights, but a solid, working man’s chest. “I…um…I put on your shirt.”

  “I see.” His blue eyes burned with desire.

  “Breakfast is ready.”

  “I see that too.”

  Heart pounding, she pointed to a chair. “Sit. I’ll dish it up.” She gingerly pulled the hot toast from the rack and dropped two pieces on each plate next to the eggs.

  “I could get used to this.”

  So could she. “I’m not a very good cook.”

  “I wasn’t referring to your cooking, Danaher.” He ran a callused hand across her bare bottom when she bent to put the plate in front of him. “Yum, yum.”

  Would she ever breathe normally when she looked at him, felt his hands on her skin? Determined not to play the part of a needy, clinging vine—although needy described her perfectly this morning—she sat across from him and poured orange juice into his glass. “I…um…forgot to make coffee.”

  The back screen door squeaked open. “Hello-oo, Mar-laa.”

  “Oh, no, it’s Charlene.” She cast a desperate look at Dwayne. “What should we do?”

  He shrugged.

  Char charged into the kitchen. “Hi, sis, I…” Her eyes darted from Dwayne’s bare back to Marla’s face then his back again. “I do hope I’m interrupting something.”

  She closed the distance to the round table and sat between them. “Good morning.” She took a piece of toast from Marla’s plate, spread a generous amount of marmalade on it, and took a bite. “Any more of that omelet? I’m starving.”

  Dwayne pushed his plate toward her. “Good morning. You’re welcome to some of mine. Marla was generous with me.”

  “Don’t mind if I do.” Charlene got up, opened the cupboard, and took a plate for herself then she opened the utensil drawer and removed a fork.