Falling Into Right

by Sharon Kay

  “Um, I don’t know. She wouldn’t have left without telling me, though. She has blond hair with pink streaks. You can’t miss her.” Becca twisted in her chair, searching as well. Marcy would flip when Becca told her the news.

  “Blond and pink? At the bar.” Shane nodded.

  “Oh, I see her.” Becca spotted Marcy chatting to a guy with short, dark hair. Marcy caught her eye and waved. Becca waved back then turned to catch Shane’s eyes locked on her. Intriguing, sexy, appreciative, mysterious—she couldn’t peg the emotion there, but the fact she was the focus made her breath hitch.

  “I’m glad we ran into each other again.” His deep voice cut through the bar noise. Direct, intense, rumbly, and sexy.

  “Me too,” she murmured.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow at eight.” He stood and winked. God, that was going to kill her. “Have a good night.”

  “You too.” She watched him walk away, not caring who saw her greedy gaze. I have a date with him.

  He strode to the side of the bar and, a second later, was walking toward the door with his dog padding at this side. Becca idly wondered if he’d had dogs all his life and that was how he became the K-9 cop. But her thoughts were derailed as Marcy descended on the table like a mini hurricane.

  “Oh my god girl, dish!” She sat in the chair Shane had vacated and leaned way forward over the table. “He was so into you. Both of you were like, ooh my god. It looked like you wanted to leave and hook up.”

  “The tequila made me say yes.” Becca leaned her head on her hand and sighed.

  Marcy’s eyes went saucer wide. “Yes to what?”

  “He asked me out. We’re going to see a band tomorrow night.”

  “Yes!” Marcy whooped so loud that the people at the surrounding tables turned to give her amused glances.

  “And did you know the bartender is his sister?” Becca grabbed her friend’s hand to still her happy dance. “So stop spazzing, or it’ll get back to him.”

  “I don’t care if it gets back to him. You have a date! And he is so damn hot.” Marcy took a drink of Becca’s tea. “While I was at the bar, some other girls came in and were checking him out.”

  “Really?” Hmm, maybe going to a bar where more girls could ogle him wasn’t the greatest idea.

  “But it was like you were the only person here. I swear.” Marcy held up a hand. “It was like how people act in movies.”

  “Marcy, oh my god, you’re reading way too much into this.”

  But Marcy was already ahead of Becca. “Okay. Date tomorrow. We need to decide what you’re going to wear. Something low cut, and skinny jeans, and…” She tapped a finger on her chin. “Want me to come over and do your hair? Kinda styled but not really looking like it?”

  Marcy ran a hair salon in Hamilton. She was incredibly talented, but Becca shook her head. “Thanks, but I’ll keep the hair casual. He’s already seen it completely straight, and up in a bun, and this mess.” She tugged at a chestnut lock. Her hair was mostly straight, with random sections that did their defiant best to be wavy.

  “Yeah, that works. You have really good hair. I’m jealous. Okay, jewelry?”

  Becca listened with half an ear as Marcy debated the contents of Becca’s jewelry box. She doubted Shane would care what necklace she wore.

  Shane. Her body warmed at the thought of being with him all night. She was still nervous, but was going to trust her gut. And her gut told her she’d made the right choice by saying yes.

  Chapter 7

  Becca eyed the two short-sleeve tops laid out on her bed—one red, one pale blue, and both deemed date-worthy by Marcy. Becca had read somewhere that, in movies, the color red meant sex or danger. Well, she didn’t anticipate any danger tonight—or sex either, for that matter.

  But she definitely wanted to look sexy, especially standing next to Shane. Something about him made her want to make an impression. She was usually confident in her appearance, but maybe that was because, when she got engaged, she figured Kirk loved her for more than her looks. Until she became toxic to his career.

  Shaking off the unwanted thoughts, she grabbed the red top and pulled it on. Skinny jeans and ankle boots with blocky heels completed her ensemble. In the boots, she’d be a tiny bit taller to see over the crowd, and if they had to stand, these heels would be more comfortable than stilettos.

  Glancing in the mirror, she smoothed her brown locks. She’d left her hair loose because anything else seemed either too casual or too forced. And like with the jewelry, she got the impression Shane wouldn’t care how she did her hair.

  She went with her gut instinct on that, though there was oodles she didn’t know about him. What foods did he like? Did he cook? Use an electric shaver or a razor blade? Boxers or briefs…oh god, she shouldn’t go there, but she couldn’t help it. Everything was brand new with him, and so damn exciting.

  She grabbed a wad of cash and her driver’s license—which she had thanks to Shane—and tucked it all in her pockets. It was 7:58. Becca never believed that a girl should make a guy wait just because. She liked being ready on time.

  And apparently, so did Shane, because at the stroke of eight, her doorbell rang. Becca allowed herself a huge, goofy grin because he couldn’t see her yet. She took a deep inhale, walked to her door, and opened it.

  And nearly forgot to breathe. Shane stood there like a Greek god. She didn’t think he was Greek, but right now, she couldn’t think of much at all. His shoulders were impossibly wide in a navy button-down with a faint white plaid running through it. The short sleeves were stretched across his big biceps. And dark jeans… she dragged her attention back up before she embarrassed herself by peeking too low. “Hi,” she breathed through a smile.

  “Hi yourself,” his deep voice rumbled, and a faint smile played across his lips.

  “Um…” She gazed up into the blue of his eyes and tried to remember what she was supposed to do. “I… just need a second. Hang on…” She turned to the tiny foyer table and grabbed her keys then stepped out onto the porch.

  Wow. Standing in his space was a rush. Knowing he was her date, that he’d be focused on her, he’d be at her side, sent butterflies zooming around inside her belly.

  He regarded her with an almost sweet appreciation. If he’d had more heated thoughts, he must have hidden them quickly because he kept his eyes on hers—something not all guys were able or inclined to do—and said, “You look beautiful.”

  Her cheeks warmed. “Thanks. Um, I just need to lock up.” She turned to the door and secured both the lock and the deadbolt.

  Tucking her key into a front pocket, she swiveled back to him and let the screen door thump shut behind her. In her driveway, she spied a gray Ford truck. It hadn’t occurred to her that he had another vehicle besides his police car, but duh. Of course he would. He probably didn’t want to drive everywhere in it. Maybe he was only supposed to use it for work. And a pickup was pretty much standard around here.

  “Ready?” he asked.

  “Mm-hmm.” So ready.

  “After you.”

  She headed down her front walk to the driveway. Shane walked around to the passenger door and opened it for her. Thank god she wasn’t wearing a skirt because his truck didn’t have running boards. He sure didn’t need them, with his long legs. Guess that means he doesn’t drive a lot of girls around? Hmm.

  “You been to Ollie’s before?” he asked as she climbed in.

  She gave a half laugh at the mention of one of her old college hangouts. “Yeah.”

  He gave her a grin and closed her door, then hustled around the front to get in the driver’s side. “That ‘yeah’ has more to it.” He quirked a brow as he started the engine.

  She nodded. “True. I went to Southern.” Southern Illinois University was in Carbondale, making it one of the biggest towns around. It wasn’t uncommon for bands to play ther
e—not the huge names, but those on their way up or down the charts.

  “No kidding? It’s a good school.” He turned off her street and toward the highway that would take them to the town that was, for some, the biggest place they’d ever been. “What’d you study?”

  “Accounting.” Damn it. The word fell from her lips faster than she could think twice about it. It was true, but she immediately felt like an idiot. There was no good way to explain why an accounting major was serving food at a retirement home. So she did the first thing that came to mind and kept talking. “It was nice going to a big school that was close to home. I loved Hamilton and all. Every summer I had to detassel corn, though. I’ll be happy to never do that again. It’s a rite of passage, but so darn messy.”

  “Shoot, yeah. My sister and I did it. But you’re so excited for that first payday that you don’t care.”

  Whew. Inward relief that he hadn’t fixated on her choice of studies flooded through her. “I know. I earned a hundred bucks, and I actually kept it for a while.”

  “You didn’t run out and spend it?”

  “No. I’m more of a saver.” And that habit was saving her butt.

  Dark fields and rolling hills zoomed by outside her window, punctuated by the occasional group of trees. A huge, orange harvest moon came and went from view as Shane followed twisting rural roads. He could have chosen the big highway, but that would only have saved them about five minutes, and they weren’t exactly on a time crunch.

  “I haven’t been this way in a while,” she murmured.

  “Me neither.” He shot her a sexy smile. “I like the scenic route.”

  “Me too.” She studied his laid back deliciousness, happy for the cover of darkness and that he had to watch the road. He had one arm draped over the wheel, and one on the center console. Casual, but she guessed—

  He slowed the truck suddenly, not enough to make them lurch forward, but enough that she whipped her gaze to the road ahead.

  “Deer.” He pointed at a bounding spot of white as a doe’s tail disappeared into the trees on their left. “Thank god she had the sense to stay off the road. Came close though.”

  “Wow.” Becca hadn’t even seen it, all wrapped up in ogling her date. She supposed he didn’t miss much, and maybe that should have made her wary. But instead, she felt safe, like she could let her guard down just a little.

  Ollie’s was on a small street lined with bars and within walking distance of campus. The September night was warm, and groups of college kids filled the sidewalks. In a couple of hours, Becca knew they would be spilling into the street. “There’s a parking lot on the next block,” she said.

  “Yup.” He paused to let a group of women giggle their way across the street in front of the truck. “I haven’t been here for a while, but I think I’ve hit all the bars on this street at one point or another, depending on what friend of mine was going here.”

  They found a spot in the parking lot and made the short walk back to the bar. The line was short, with just a few people ahead of them. When they got to the front of the line, the bouncer glanced at Becca’s license first and handed it back with a smile. Next, Shane offered his license.

  The burly man peered at it, and Becca expected him to just hand it back like he did with hers. But instead, his eyes widened. “Shane Marlow?”

  Shane nodded. “That’s me.”

  The man squared his shoulders. “It’s an honor to have you here tonight. My brother’s over in the damn sandbox now. We read about you in the papers.” He stuck out his hand. “Thank you.”

  Shane shook his hand, but not before a flash of something crossed his face. Almost like he didn’t want the guy’s thanks. But he quickly changed his expression into something utterly professional and almost scripted. “No need to thank me. Just did my job. Where’s your brother stationed?”

  “Somewhere near Mosul. Least, that’s what it was last time he could say anything. He’s got another year to go.”

  “That year will fly by before you know it. Tell him to hang in there.” Shane’s face relaxed to a casual smile.

  “Will do.” The bouncer nodded. “And you two just go on in. Enjoy the show.” He waved them toward the next set of doors.

  “I’d like to cover us, support the band,” Shane said.

  “No, I insist,” the bouncer said. “It would be an honor to do it.”

  Shane glanced at the line growing longer behind them, and took a step closer to Becca. “Thank you. That’s very kind.”

  “Thank you, sir,” the man said and turned to the next person in line.

  Becca could only stare at Shane in stupefied wonder. She had the distinct feeling this wasn’t the first time this had happened to him. What had he done, and why did strangers know about it? And why not her?

  He leaned down close to her ear. “Sorry. Believe me, that’s the last thing I expected tonight.”

  She turned toward him, fighting the giddiness at being this close to his lips. She was confused as hell, and whispered, “What is he talking about?”

  His eyes searched hers for a second, then he draped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. “I’ll tell you inside.”

  Curiosity over what happened in the past was washed away by what was happening right now. His body was warm, his arm strong as he held her, and his hip brushed hers as he steered her into the main part of the bar. “Drinks first?” he asked.

  “Yeah,” she murmured over the loud country music. He could suggest drinks later or suggest they got food… she’d go along. She couldn’t think with him this close.

  They reached an enormous bar that had to be forty feet long. People lined up almost along the whole thing, but Shane found a spot to squeeze them in. He removed his arm from her shoulders to reach for his wallet. “What’ll you have?”

  “Rum and Coke.” Was it silly that she missed having his arm around her?

  He ordered a draft beer, and once they had their drinks, she scanned the room on the off chance one of the tall tables would be free. No luck. The room was dark, with minimal décor on the walls. Ollie’s hosted different kinds of bands, so it wasn’t a country bar, but more of an almost-music venue. Purple pendant lights hung suspended over the high-sheen black surface of the bar.

  They wandered away from the bar to the opposite side of the room. People laughed and talked and drank all around them, and Becca realized that no table was a good thing. She could stand right up close to him this way. And she hadn’t missed the looks that had come their way, both from men and women. But now, she only wanted to block it all out and focus on Shane.

  He paused in a spot near the wall and glanced around. She sipped her drink, watching him, waiting. But curiosity bubbled in her mind. “What was that guy talking about?” The words slipped from her mouth before she could stop them.

  He rubbed a hand over his jaw. “I’m gonna give you the Cliffs Notes version for right now.” Blue eyes regarded her honestly.

  “That’s fine.” The last thing she wanted was to bring up something bad. And she’d take what she could get, because he made it sound like there was a longer version. Maybe she’d get to learn that later. “We don’t have to talk about it at all tonight, if you’d rather not.”

  “No, I want you to know.” He took a drink of his beer. “It’s in the paper. Or it was, back when it happened. So it’s not a secret.”

  The paper? Should she have researched him online before tonight? He was a cop. She never thought there’d be anything on him except cop stuff. Wait, maybe this was going to be cop stuff. But no, the bouncer had talked about the sandbox. She knew enough to know that was the Middle East.

  “Before I worked at the courthouse, I was in the Army. My team and I were in Iraq. We encountered an IED.”

  She gasped. “Oh my god.” Reflexively she scanned his body for injuries that, of course, would have he
aled long ago. “Were you hurt?”

  “I spent a month at Walter Reed. But I was lucky. I lived. Not everyone did.”

  “I’m so sorry.” Her heart pinched. He’d said “his team.” How many had survived? The pang of loss ripped through her, born of a still-raw familiarity that he couldn’t even realize.

  “So I came home to Sundown, and people wanted to celebrate that I was home. I stay low key, but some still remember that I’m around. I still get the, uh, attention.”

  She nodded. He struck her as the person least likely to want attention for anything, let alone military service. “I got the feeling out there that this type of thing has happened before.”

  “Yep.”

  “Thank you for telling me. I know you didn’t plan to, at least not tonight.” Getting reminders of your past when you least expect it sucked. “You still want to hang out here?”

  “Hell, yes.” He grinned, a megawatt flash that made her stop and stare. “Tonight’s plan was to hear some good music with a pretty girl who I ran into three times this week. Don’t plan on changing that up. You still with me?”

  As if she’d say no. “Yes.” She gave him her sunniest smile, hoping to convey that she was up for whatever he wanted to do. The pain he’d gone through bothered her, and she wished she could tell him she got it, that though she’d never been in Iraq, she understood sudden loss. But it was time to enjoy the sexy man at her side. She only hoped there’d be another chance to get to know the deeper side of Shane Marlow.

  Chapter 8

  The main act had been onstage for an hour, and Becca hadn’t stopped dancing and singing along to every song. Shane stayed as close as he could get without being inappropriate because every damn dude in the place had checked her out, even the guys who were with other girls. Hell, even some women had slid roving eyes toward her.

  Becca was that sexy. Swaying her hips showed off her great ass. Raising her arms showed off her small waist. Just breathing showed off her full breasts. If she knew the whole place was watching her, she didn’t let on.