She arched her brow. “Your family will be happy to accommodate that request, I’m sure.” She turned with her tray of cupcakes and walked away from him.
Screw it, he manned up and gave it another shot. “I’d much rather talk to you, Emma. What time are you done here?”
She turned over her shoulder and gazed at him with an amused expression. “Around midnight.”
“Meet me for a drink.” He made a point of making a statement, not asking a question.
She appraised him with a lingering glance. “A drink?”
“Right. Not a date, just a drink. You can’t leave me hanging on the night of my brother’s wedding, can you?” he cocked his head and shrugged with mock innocence.
She bit her lip. “I’ll think about it.”
It wasn’t a no. With the appreciative glimmer in her eyes, he’d put his money on yes.
“Until the witching hour.” He gave her a half bow and turned away. Confidence was critical for any victory.
More alliteration. Amusement tugged at his lips. If luck was on his side, he’d have an unforgettable night with Emma, the cupcake caterer.
Emma
Emma’s eyes flickered open. The bands of sunlight drifting onto the burgundy arm chair and dark polished desk confirmed her little indiscretion last night. She was in a hotel room. Oh no. She winced. What had she been thinking?
Starting a new life in Newport would not go well by:
1) Breaking her rule about avoiding military men.
2) Sleeping with one of her friend’s clients.
She glanced over at the Marine sharing the bed. Vince was hot. Last night had been pretty amazing—especially following her dry spell. Her divorce had turned her off dating and drama.
With long slow breaths, he appeared to be in a deep sleep. She pegged him to be in his late twenties, but without any tension on his face as he slept, he appeared even younger, like a college student.
He lay on his stomach and had arms rested on either side of his head. She paused to get a good look at him unobserved. Dark hair cut short, chiseled face, muscular body, and sensual lips. And that scent—all masculine and oh-so delicious. How could she have resisted? Last night in a tux, he'd been irresistible and now with nothing but the sheet covering the lower part of his body, all the smooth muscles in his back and shoulders stood out. An urge to run her hands over them again made her fingers itch. She yanked them to her side.
He wasn’t a college student, he was a Marine. Even worse! The eagle, globe, and anchor and barbed wire tattooed on his biceps silently blared that announcement. She was all set with men in the military for good reason—especially after her ex’s latest announcement.
Why was she lingering? She had to get out of there.
Careful not to wake Vince, she slid out from under the sheets. She found her clothes discarded on the floor and carried them into the bathroom. No, she couldn't risk waking him by making any noise. She quickly dressed and slowly turned the doorknob. Before she exited, she took one last look at him. A flicker of regret swirled. Too bad he was only in town for a wedding and not a regular guy living here in Newport.
His back rose and fell with deep breathing, so she didn’t appear to have roused him. She slipped out the door, and then closed it behind her before rushing through the corridor and down the stairs of the opulent hotel, a near gallop of shame.
What was she thinking? The ink on the divorce papers was probably still wet, although her marriage to Peter had fallen apart last fall. She was a wreck from it, lugging too much emotional baggage to even consider taking on a hot lover like Vince.
After she freshened up in a restroom near the lobby, she booked an Uber. While she waited the four, glacier-slow minutes for her driver to arrive, she paced the well-tended grounds and fidgeted with her necklace, a silver shamrock she’d picked up in Ireland for good luck. To maintain distance from the wedding guests and stay far from view, she steered close to a flower bed along the side of the hotel. They wore fine Sunday morning clothes the morning after a wedding, while she wore clothes from the night before—black slacks and a white blouse—a telltale sign that one of the catering crew didn’t make it home last night.
Ugh. Agreeing to help at this wedding had been a bad idea. It was too close to her divorce. She’d once repeated vows like that to Peter, and he to her. She grunted. That didn’t turn out as promised—their marriage had crumbled on its shaky foundation of incompatibility and infidelity.
That near cupcake catastrophe with a dashing stranger last night had made her feel things she hadn’t in so long. She’d been swept into the escape of one fiery night with the best man, even if he was against her rules. The way he talked to her and looked at her made her feel desired, wanted, like one of these well-tended flowers in this aromatic flowerbed. Not like how she’d been neglected by Peter’s wandering gaze—she might as well have been an eyesore to him.
She glanced up at the stone seaside hotel again, trying to track which window was Vince’s. A pang of guilt hit her, as she’d left without a note or a goodbye.
Perhaps that was wrong.
No, he was just another guy who only wanted one thing—and from as many women who would give it to him.
When her ride arrived, she dashed down the pebbled walkway and into the backseat. After she climbed in, and they drove away, she glanced back. Vince was only in town for his brother’s wedding.
She’d never see him again.
Six months later…
Emma grabbed a cup of coffee and sat at her desk, sifting through emails. Although she’d finished her four years in the Navy earlier that year, this job as a civilian at the Naval War College was a good fit. Besides, it allowed her to stay in Newport.
Much of her duties focused on event planning and working in the library. A conference with numerous guest speakers was on the schedule for this week, her first big event.
“Let’s get the speakers settled in,” Emma’s supervisor, Michael, said when he stopped by her desk.
“All right,” she agreed and joined him as they walked down the hall.
“Then head down to check people in at reception.”
When they entered the reception area, there were more than just a few who’d arrived early. Several small groups of people in military uniform and civilian gear stood chatting.
“I’m going to talk to the Captain,” he nodded. “The EOD tech is over there.” He pointed to a small group chatting.
She headed over and glanced at name tags of those in uniform to try to find the Marine she’d communicated with via email. No luck. She walked around those who had arrived. “Staff Sergeant DeMarchis?”
“Yes?” a deep voice called.
A man moved through the crowd from a dozen or so feet away with the short-cropped hair of a Marine. When he stepped into her line of vision, a gasp leaped from her throat. She squelched it and attempted to cover the sound as if taking a deep breath.
No. Noooo….
Dark eyes pinned her with a gaze as surprised as her own before it was quickly replaced by a neutral expression, revealing nothing. She’d never forget those intense eyes—they’d captured her from across the room when they’d first met, as if they were in some Frank Sinatra song.
It was him. Vince. The Marine she’d slept with after the wedding six months ago. Instead of a tux, he wore cammies. She had a sudden wish for camouflage herself so she could slip away. When she stole another glance at him, she had to admit he filled out his uniform well.
He stood about half a foot taller than her, so close to six feet, and his hair was now shorter than it had been at the wedding, trimmed to the Marine regulated cut. She pictured the fit body beneath the uniform that she’d touched in the hotel last summer. Heat rose in her cheeks as she struggled to force the image of his naked body away.
“I’m Staff Sergeant DeMarchis,” he declared. “And you are?” he posed with a quirk of his brows. The hint of amusement in his voice rang clear.
As far as
she was concerned, there wasn’t anything amusing about this situation. She forced herself to state her name without stammering. “Emma. Emma Bradford.”
He offered his hand. “Nice to meet you, Ms. Bradford.”
She accepted his hand, ignoring the tingles that sent a ripple of heat up her arm. A flash of how he’d touched her with those warm, skillful hands returned.
Don’t think it. Don’t remember it!
“Emma. Just call me Emma.”
“Emma,” he repeated in a smooth velvety voice.
Argh, why did he make it sound so sensual?
“What a pleasure to meet you.” His voice was laced with enjoyment.
She rose to her tiptoes and leaned close to his ear, unfortunately catching his clean, male scent that was all too alluring. She whispered, “This isn’t funny.”
“Funny?” Vince cocked his head. “I’d say fortuitous.” He raised his brows with the hint of a challenge in his eyes. Those deep, dark, all-too-dangerous eyes.
A reminder of their verbal flirting with alliteration returned. “Definitely not. Whatever you’re thinking, nope.”
His eyes widened with mock innocence. “What I’m thinking?” His lips quirked into a semi-grin. “What is it you think I’m thinking about, Emma?”
All sorts of sordid images swam in her mind. She crossed her arms and grimaced. “I don’t even want to think about it.”
“Since it looks like we’re working together while I’m in town, we’ll have plenty of time to converse.” He appraised her with a speculative gaze that bordered on smoldering.
Damn, this was going to be awkward. She took a deep breath and forced a smile. “Looking forward to it,” she lied.
Chapter Two
Vince
Vince dressed in sweats to get ready for a run. The December breeze along the ocean would be brisk. A knock was followed by a familiar voice, “Hey, DeMarchis.”
After he opened the door of his room at the Navy base, Grady greeted him with the standard guy nod. Grady was one the Navy guys Vince trained with the past few weeks at the Naval War College in Newport.
“Hey, Demo, I heard you’re a tech whiz,” Grady said.
Vince’s nickname in the Corps traveled fast. Marines loved to twist a name. DeMarchis quickly became Demo, short for demolition. It could have been worse. His brother Matty was pegged as Demon, and Vince knew a poor schmuck stuck with shitbird.
“What’s up, Grady?”
“My laptop showed me the blue screen of death and I can’t get it to come on.”
“I’ll take a look at it.”
“Cool.” Grady raised his chin. “We’re gonna grab a beer. You in?”
“Maybe later. I’m gonna head out for light run.”
“We had PT this morning, hard ass.” A grin spread across Grady’s face.
“It’s what separates the men from the boys,” Vince countered. “Where you gonna be?”
“That may change as the night goes on. We’ll start off down at Bowen’s Wharf. Text me.”
Once Grady left, Vince put on his sneakers. It had been a long day of classes and he could use some time alone to decompress and stretch out his muscles. He wanted to soak in the salty ocean air while he was in Newport, despite the December chill. At least leave was coming up, and he’d be able to spend Christmas here with his family.
He headed outdoors and into a jog. The sun had already started to set, courtesy of the short winter days.
The military was a small world and Newport was even smaller, but to be paired up with the woman he’d hooked up with at his brother’s wedding seemed like an odd coincidence. He released a low, skeptical laugh. Brilliant.
It figured. The training program had been intense. All he had left to do were a couple of presentations—one at the War College tomorrow and another at a high school next week. Those were supposed to be the easy parts before leave. Now that he’d be working with Emma, it made things more interesting. She’d distracted him since they ran into each other.
As he quickened the pace, his heartbeat quickened and breathing turned more rapid. A fine sheen of sweat built on his skin, despite the strong ocean breeze. He glanced out at the dark water with the lights twinkling on it and shook his head. How funny that they’d exchanged a few emails while organizing these speaking engagements, not realizing they knew each other. Intimately.
He didn’t know why she snuck out that next morning. She hadn’t scrawled a quick note—not even a Thanks for the Wham-Bam-Thank-You-Man.
Why not? He’d thought they had a damn good night together.
As he passed by the next housing complex, he groaned. He should have been happy not to deal with any awkwardness the morning after and avoid any uncomfortable chats about staying in touch. For some inexplicable reason, he wasn’t.
Instead, he’d attempted to disassemble every minute of the night to try to pinpoint if he’d done something to trigger her to bolt. He couldn’t help it. That’s how he was wired. He was fascinated by taking things apart to see what made them tick, and it was what made him good in his field. An explosive ordnance disposal tech had to be patient and steady and be able to dismantle something that could blow up in his face by making the wrong move. It was the perfect fit for him, even if it was dangerous and stressful. So many techs burned out from it, and he had many doubtful moments about how long he could handle himself. That was normal, explainable by human nature.
What wasn’t as simple to understand was why a woman who seemed to have a pleasurable night with him slipped away as silent as a shadow.
He’d see her again tomorrow. Would he finally get an answer to that question?
Emma
Emma bit her lip. This couldn’t be happening. She trekked through downtown Newport after work on Friday. The bright lights of her friend Karine’s catering business came into view, where Emma had worked last summer, and still helped out when Karine needed extra hands.
After Emma opened the door and announced her arrival, Karine appeared from deep in her kitchen, which was full of stainless steel tables of different sizes. The scent of cinnamon baked goods perfumed the shop, and a Nina Simone album was playing. Karine often listened to slow croons or classical music while she worked, saying she needed tranquility in her workspace since her home was no longer as calm as it had been. Introducing a baby girl into her world would do that.
Karine stepped behind the display case at the front of the shop, which featured some of her top dessert sellers, like the cupcakes she was known for and even had catering requests from out of state. Her dark hair was pulled back into a messy bun, and she wiped her hands on her white apron. She pinned Emma with a probing gaze. “What’s the issue you texted about?”
Emma grimaced and shuffled on the tile floor. “Have you ever done something you thought would stay far in your past? But then it sneaks up on you with repercussions you never imagined?”
Karine’s eyes narrowed. “What happened?”
Emma tapped her mouth. “I’m a little nervous about telling you.”
“Emma?” Karine’s voice took on a what’s-going-on tone.
“Last summer, when I was helping you with all those weddings, well…” She rubbed the seam of her jeans and her gaze drifted to the printed catering menu, avoiding meeting Karine’s eyes. “So, I met this guy. And, uh, one thing led to another…”
“And?”
Emma sighed. “We hooked up.” She lifted her eyes to meet Karine’s judgment.
“Oh.” Her tone was matter-of-fact.
“You’re not mad?”
“Should I be? Was he the groom?”
“No, the best man.”
Karine shrugged. “So what?”
“I thought you might give me a hard time for sleeping with the client’s family or something like that.”
“Honey, I’ve catered enough weddings to see more hookups than fastenings on a wedding dress.” Karine walked over to a drying rack where she removed stainless steel pans and placed them
in a stack beneath one of the tables. “If you’d slept with the groom, yes, that would be an issue. You know, ruining the wedding of a paying client. I’m assuming he was single?”
Emma’s shrug ended with a squeamish roll of her shoulders. He better not be married. “He wasn’t there with anyone.”
“Well then, good for you.” Karine pulled out a chocolate frosted cupcake from inside a display case. “It’s about time you had some sugar in your bowl.” She laughed at the reference to the song playing as she handed Emma the cupcake. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me, especially since you haven’t mentioned any guy since Peter.”
The back of Emma’s neck tightened. “I was a mess at the time.” She accepted the cupcake.
“Who wouldn’t be after finding out their husband knocked up another woman? Besides the divorce, you had also just gotten out of the Navy. Huge, stressful life changes.”
“It was definitely a perfect storm of stressors.” Emma sighed. “Thanks for not being judgy. I was pretty screwed up at the time.”
Emma had been trying to start a new life in Newport after the previous version she’d planned had crashed with epic collateral damage.
“I think you were allowed to be a bit off balance.”
Emma stared at the frosted cupcake in her hand without any appetite to take a bite. That was how her little indiscretion had started. “Here’s the thing. My one-night fling has turned out to have some lag time.”
“Oh? How?” Karine’s dark eyes widened with delight.
“A guy I’ve been emailing about a lecture tomorrow and a visit the high school next week—well, take a guess.”
“No!” A snort-laugh escaped Karine, and she covered her mouth. “The same guy?”
“Yes.” Emma’s reply had far less amusement. “It looks like my attempt to keep things simple and uncomplicated have shifted with Twister-like contortions.”
Karine made a sound of acknowledgment. “How did he react when he saw you?”
Vince: One Night with a Marine: A Second Chance Military Romance (Anchor Me Book 2) Page 2
