Jack knew. He’d seen how his mom had climbed out of that quicksand of grief by finding a purpose. “She loves cats.”
“I’m guessing you do, as well,” Ryan replied, “Since you’ve joined us here tonight.”
Loved cats? Hell, Jack didn’t know about that. He’d grown up surrounded by them; they had been part of his life up until the time he’d gone to college and then into the military when his living situation changed drastically. His formative years included many felines for sure.
He shrugged. “I grew up with them. My mom had us help out at the shelter when we were young.”
Carrie and his mom were pulled into a conversation with a couple nearby.
“Thanks for supporting us tonight,” Ryan said. “If you’re interested, we’d be happy to have you help out, as well, however you can at the shelter.”
Steve laughed. “Always trying to recruit new volunteers, Ryan.”
Jack scoped out Vivi and caught her eye, a potent exchange that seared him with its intensity. When she broke the gaze, he took her in with a longer perusal.
“Do you know the woman in the blue dress?” he asked Ryan.
Ryan furrowed his brows. “Vivi? Yes, she’s one of our volunteers.”
“We met in Okinawa a couple of years ago.”
“Ah, right. Both Marines.” Ryan nodded to himself.
“What do you know about her?” Jack asked.
Ryan ran his hand over his hair. “She’s in school. Is pretty private. Keeps to herself.”
That was it; Jack wasn’t going to let this opportunity slip away and go home with more regret.
“Tell you what, Ryan. If you can arrange for the volunteering to happen with Vivi, sign me up this week.”
Ryan sized Jack up with a long appraisal. “Hmm. I think that would be a good idea.” He gave Jack a knowing look. “I’d be happy to set you two up—with the, um, volunteering.”
Steve chuckled. “Oh my. Here we go.”
“Be right back, love.” With that excited glimmer in his eye, Ryan looked like a cat stalking a bird. “Come on. Let’s do this.” Ryan addressed Jack and strode toward Vivi.
Now? He wasn’t expecting Ryan to act so soon, and he scrambled to move his feet into action. So much for the heads up. He hadn’t had time to consider the next step. Essential to any mission was a strategy.
It’s not a mission, just a conversation.
Then why was his heart beating like he’d pounded three energy drinks?
“Vivi,” Ryan said. “I heard you and Jack met in the service.”
Vivi’s eyes darted from Ryan to Jack, widening. “Yes.” Her tone had a hint of wariness.
“Jack used to help out at the shelter when he was a kid.” His expressed turned downright satisfied. “Would you be able to give him a tour this week?”
“Ummm—” She appeared to be stalling, hopefully not coming up with an excuse.
“A scaled-down version of the volunteer orientation,” Ryan added.
“I—uh—sure.”
Nice. One point in Jack’s favor; he’d found a way to spend some time with Vivi.
“Great,” Ryan said. “I’ll let you figure out the logistics.” He glanced at the clock. “Time’s up for voting. Jack, you mind helping us count the votes?”
“I can do that,” Jack replied.
He stepped beside Vivi. “Where do you want me to start?”
Ryan glanced at them both, standing only inches apart, and smiled as if pleased with something only he knew. “Right where you are. That’s perfect.”
They divided up the jars and counted the dollars. Being so close to her was distracting. She smelled so good, that same jasmine scent he remembered. He lost count a couple of times and had to start over.
After all the votes were tallied, Ryan stepped up to a podium and leaned into the mic.
“The featured cat for next year’s calendar is—” Ryan paused for effect. “Oh, what a great story this is. I’m sure many of you know this cat’s story. She was found nearly frozen during one of Boston’s biggest storms last winter. She was in such bad shape, we weren’t sure she’d make it.”
Many in the crowd were already oohing as if already anticipating the announcement. With the way that Ryan was drawing out the lead-up, Jack wasn’t surprised.
“And the winner is—Flurry!” Ryan held up a photo of a gray kitten.
The crowd cheered, including Vivi. He glanced at his mother and sister, who were also clapping with enthusiasm.
Vivi leaned closer to him. “We all have a soft spot for Flurry at the shelter, so this is a happy tale.”
“Pun intended?” Jack replied with a quirked brow.
She laughed.
After a few minutes, Ryan made his way back over to the table and addressed them both. “Thanks for your help. Now go and have fun. Eat. Drink. Dance.” A flash later, he was pulled into a conversation with other patrons.
Jack glanced at Vivi. From the options Ryan suggested, Jack pushed the most appealing option—the one in which he’d have the chance to hold her in his arms for a few minutes. “So Vivi, how about that dance?”
Vivi
Vivi sucked in a breath as she stared into Jack’s eyes. The moment she’d both anticipated and feared was here.
“Sure.” She feigned indifference, terrified her pounding heartbeat would give her away.
Jack took her hand and led her through the various groups of people in fancy dress to where other couples were dancing out on the floor. Her hand enclosed in his warm one sent heat traveling through her body. Her heartbeat quickened. How could such as a small gesture like that affect her so?
Forget dancing, it was a wonder she could put one foot in front of the other.
Will you get a hold of yourself? When you met him, you were in the Marines. Not some middle schooler with a crush.
She’d been so lost in her thoughts that she hadn’t noticed what was playing, A Kiss to Build a Dream On, sung by Louis Armstrong.
Jack turned to her and dropped his hand to her lower back, pulling her toward him. That intimate hold struck her with its underlying sensuality. How different from her neutral reaction from when Ryan had led her into the ballroom with a similar gesture earlier.
Although she yearned to close the remaining space between them, she struggled against that urge. Keeping her expression as neutral as she could manage, she wrapped one arm around him and followed his lead.
He moved with suave precision, guiding her across the dance floor. Despite her worries about not being able to keep up, the way he supported her took the pressure off her injured leg. She moved lightly on her feet, rather than the usual encumbrance on her left leg, like she was dragging an anchor around.
She was dancing. Dancing!
It felt incredible. Beyond that was the closeness of her partner. The heat.
Neither spoke, but energy sizzled between them. It was hard to breathe.
Jack was so achingly close she could barely function. His delicious scent wrapped around her—a clean scent with a faint hint of male musk. If she leaned toward his neck, she could drink it in deeper…
“I remember seeing you in Dress Blues in Okinawa.” When he perused her from the head down, his eyes twinkled. “And now you’re wearing a blue dress.”
She stumbled on hearing those words about that crushing night, but steadied herself, hopefully before he noticed.
“You okay?”
No such luck. “Yes,” she stammered. “I haven’t worn these shoes in a while. Or danced.”
“We were supposed to dance that night. We never had the chance. So, this is long overdue.” His tone sounded wistful.
He remembered. She exhaled with a shaky breath. After all, they’d never had a chance to be together. As soon as they’d inched closer, they’d been torn apart.
Memories of the night they’d had to sever ties returned; the ramifications of anything happening between them so clear, how could she ever forget?
They
’d first met while she took a history course, almost two years ago, which he’d attended as a guest lecturer. A month after the course had ended, she’d run into him at a rock climbing gym. They’d flirted as they’d crossed paths over the next couple of Tuesdays and had even partnered to belay each other on some climbs. When he’d brought up the Marine Corps ball, she realized he had no idea she was a Marine. People rarely did and usually assumed she was a serviceman’s wife or daughter. She didn’t have the telltale hairstyle the men had with that high-and-tight cut. He found out soon enough the night of the ball when he’d see her in uniform. She thought it would be an entertaining surprise.
She was wrong.
Foolish and presumptuous. When they’d spotted each other at the ball, in their Dress Blues uniforms, any chance of a future together was destroyed. He was an officer. She was enlisted.
Forbidden by military rules against fraternization.
How the hell hadn’t she known he was an officer?
Pieces started falling together. She’d been stuck working and had been late to the class where he’d likely been introduced. And it wasn’t as if they’d addressed each other by rank in a gym off base, where he was Jack and she was Vivi.
The next time they saw each other at the gym, he’d asked if she’d talk with him in private. While they’d walked the beach, they talked all night, about everything.
“You know we can’t do this,” he’d said.
Her shoulders had sagged. It was true, but those words still struck with a sharp pang. “I know.”
Despite their words and best intentions, a heat simmered between them. As the moon had brightened overhead, the sensual tension between them grew to an unbearable peak. When he’d finally kissed her under the moonlight, their lips lingered, barely moving as if both were unsure it was real. Fascination exploded into raw passion, turning her into a mass of tingles and raw need.
They’d ended up in the sand, hands all over each other, under each other’s clothes. If she hadn’t pulled away, breathless, putting the brakes on it, they might have made love right there on the beach. A part of her had regretted doing so ever since. Why did she have to be the good girl and say no when all she’d wanted to do was scream yes, yes, yes!
They’d agreed they had to go their separate ways. The temptation was clearly too difficult to resist. She switched up her rock climbing schedule after that to avoid him. Running into him would remind her of how stupid they’d been—and what she could clearly never have.
Yes, she definitely regretted not letting things go any further the night they’d kissed on the beach. Even if they couldn’t be together, she would have had that one memory. Not a torturous reminder of what almost happened.
But now, here she was almost two years later, dancing in his arms.
It’s just a dance.
“You’re right,” she replied. “Dress Blues and now a blue dress.”
“It’s kind of strange.” He leaned down and whispered into her ear, a gesture that affected her much more than she wanted to admit. “After all that had happened between us, a part of me thinks we shouldn’t be doing this now.”
Her heart pounded many hard, steady beats before she replied. “Like someone is going to swoop in and tear us apart.” She peered at him. “But here in the real world, this means nothing, right? I mean, we’re just two people dancing.”
They were now civilians. Those military rules didn’t matter. Her mind raced with the possibilities.
“Only a dance,” he said.
Then why did she find it so difficult to function?
She forced herself to stop analyzing and enjoy the dance. After all the twists of fate that brought them here, she damn well better. Instead, she focused on all the details of the moment. The warmth where his hands touched her, the closeness of his body, his masculine scent, Louis Armstrong singing about a kiss…
The ceiling flashed before her. She was falling. Oh blast!
Jack caught her. “Whoa, you okay?”
She’d tripped on the hem of her dress. Of course, she couldn’t be graceful no matter how the dress tried to fool her. She struggled to stand upright, but her dress was pushed up, exposing her scarred legs.
No, no, no.
He noticed the ugly raised scars beneath her pantyhose, that horrible crisscross pattern.
Jack stared at her legs before traveling up to her face. “Shit, Vivi. What happened?”
When they’d rock climbed together, she’d worn shorts and her legs were smooth, not marred with scars. Not horrible and ugly, marking her with a visual reminder that she’d never be the same.
Strong emotions stirred like a tornado, creating a lump in her throat. “Please, no. I need to go.”
What an idiot she was to go out there and try to dance like that, acting like she was whole again. Normal. She wasn’t. She never would be.
“I’m sorry,” Jack said.
“I survived.” She bit back tears that pricked at her eyes. She turned and walked away from him. No doubt he’d notice her limp now.
He reached her in no time. “Come on, Viv, let’s get a drink.”
“It’s okay, I’m fine,” she managed. I’m fine. That had been her go-to line for six months, despite the insomnia and nightmares, flashbacks and panic attacks. If she repeated it like a mantra enough, maybe she actually would be one day.
He stuck close to her as he steered them towards a bar. “I get that you don’t want to talk about it.”
Talk about it? No, never. She didn’t need to vocalize how damaged she was inside and out. Even though the doctors told her not to use words like damaged as it would only thwart her recovery, it was true. How could it not be?
She’d enlisted while young and naïve, thinking she could better her life and change the world. She’d come home cynical. How wrong she’d been. People had died. Nothing had changed for the better.
Instead, she’d returned home shattered. And she’d been one of the lucky ones. Not everyone in her unit had made it home.
Her skin felt clammy, and her quickened breaths grew audible. She needed to calm the fuck down, not sink into her personal hell of grief and regret.
To drag herself from sinking into a chasm, she pictured herself in her new happy place, surrounded by cats and kittens at the cat shelter. The mental imagery of playful balls of fur helped keep her from sinking into despair.
Vivi forced a smile and faced Jack. “You’re right. I don’t want to talk about it and ruin the night. It was a wild ride, one I don’t wish to relive. Ever.”
Chapter 4
Vivi
When they reached the line at the bar, Vivi tried not to fidget, but failed, tapping her fingers alongside the seam of her satin dress. She wouldn’t push away a little liquid courage right now. Jack hadn’t pushed her for more details, but the scars and her limp told a story she didn’t want to tell—something bad had happened.
When it was finally their turn, she ordered a glass of Pinot Grigio from the bartender. He ordered a whiskey and soda and paid for their drinks. She gripped the stem of her wine glass as if it was a lifeline to keep her from going under water. She sipped her wine and the cool liquid soothed her parched mouth.
She and Jack strolled past tables displaying items up for auction, ranging from gift baskets to gift certificates and all kinds of goodies for cat lovers.
“Look, earphones in the shape of cat ears,” he pointed out. “Everyone needs those!”
She laughed, grateful that he lightened the mood. It helped break the tension after he’d seen her ugly scars. Humor was the best antidote. She’d often used self-deprecation as a way to deal with her new normal. It usually worked, but sometimes it was impossible not to slip into despair. Trying to prevent it was as futile as stopping while jetting down a water slide.
A volunteer with bacon-wrapped scallops passed, and both she and Jack each took a toothpick.
“The food here is good,” he noted, “But the tiny portions are killing me.”
He arched his brows. “I like to eat.” He gestured at a table of apps. “There are some killer pot-stickers over there with some kind of peanut sauce. I must have eaten half a dozen already.” He rubbed his perfectly flat belly as if he was carrying a baby or a massive beer gut. “I’m happy to take down a dozen more.”
“I could eat.” Although nerves had wormed through her appetite earlier, that small portion reminded to fill her belly.
Besides, food would give them something to do and provide something to talk about other than the past.
They maneuvered their way through the crowd, many who were dressed for a black-tie affair. They sampled the various appetizers and pointed out good options.
“Try the spanakopita and mini quiche,” she suggested. “So good. I didn’t realize how hungry I was until I started to eat.”
“Yes, you need to eat,” he insisted with a wag of his index finger. “Don’t drink on an empty stomach.”
“You sound like my grandmother.” Vivi laughed. “Also known as the food pusher. She’s always offering food and reminding people to eat.”
With a mock affronted expression, Jack put his hand on his chest. “I remind you of your grandmother?” He lowered his hand and grinned. “How about a former officer responsible for those under his watch?”
“But I’m not under your watch.” She raised her brows.
He leaned closer to her. “Oh yes, you are, Vivi.” His tone dropped to a rich, sensual tone. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’ve been watching you all night.”
Shivers of heat ran through her body. “Fine.” She tilted her head. “How about you sound like an officer and a gentleman? Who’s always doing the right thing?” A flirtatious undertone carried through her words.
He took a sip of his drink. “I think we both know that’s not one-hundred percent true.”
Jack: A Second Chance Marine Romance Page 3