Vince: One Night with a Marine: A Second Chance Military Romance (Anchor Me Book 2)

by Lisa Carlisle

  Karine’s eyes sparkled with a knowing glint.

  “And no, before you ask, we did not sleep together.”

  “Still, that’s something.” Karine rolled one shoulder in a semi-shrug.

  “We’re still just friends.”

  Karine crossed her arms and arched her brows. “Are you sure about that?”

  Emma cocked her head. “Of course. He’s only in town for a short while.”

  “Are you saying it’s like two ships passing in the night while he’s in town?”

  Emma bit her lip as she thought about it. “Maybe.”

  “How much longer is he in Newport?”

  “’Til after the New Year.”

  Karine grinned with mischievousness worthy of the Cheshire cat. “Then you have time to steer your ship around for another passing.”

  Emma laughed. “I don’t know. It might have been a bad idea to kiss on Christmas Eve.”

  “Why?”

  Emma shrugged. “It puts more weight on it. You don’t just make out with anyone on Christmas Eve—it should be someone special.”

  Karine gave a mock innocent shrug. “Maybe it was.”

  Emma crossed her arms. “Let’s not go there.”

  Vince

  Vince stared at the puzzle piece in his hand for where it fit in the mystery puzzle. His mother had brought it out after they’d exchanged gifts after Christmas dinner. He wore a new Christmas sweater, this one with a Lord of the Rings theme.

  They’d played Scrabble earlier that afternoon and now Vince, Angelo, and Catherine sat around the coffee table in the living room attempting to tackle the challenge.

  He put down the piece and exhaled. It was his third attempt to find a connection and his third time failing.

  If he thought Emma was on his mind too often yesterday, then he didn’t know what to call the restlessness in his brain today. Everything that had happened last night replayed in his head—the good with her nestled against him, the exquisite during the moment they’d kissed again, and the outrage when he’d learned that someone had broken into her apartment.

  “I’ve never seen you give up on a puzzle before,” Angelo noted from across the coffee table. He and Catherine sat cozy beside each other working on the opposite side.

  “I’m not giving up.” Vince gritted his teeth.

  “Usually, you tackle it with laser focus,” Angelo pointed out. “Nothing and no one can pull you away until it’s done.”

  His mother walked in with a plate of desserts and stared at Vince. “Oh, now I know something’s going on.” She put the plate on the end of the coffee table and sat down on her favorite blue armchair.

  “What are you talking about?” Vince asked.

  “You leaned back in your chair like that.” She motioned at him. “Not hunched over the puzzle.”

  What the hell was up with his family and the puzzle? “Can’t I take a break?”

  “That’s not how you usually act.” She pointed to the plate of cannoli and baklava, reflective of her Italian and Armenian roots. “There’s dessert.”

  As if he couldn’t see them. He grinned to himself, that was definitely his mother. Next, she would insist that he eat.

  “We knew you were distracted by something, or someone.” Angelo reached for a cannoli. “And figured if you couldn’t focus on a puzzle, then something is definitely wrong.”

  “You’re playing me?” Vince glared at his older brother.

  Catherine rubbed Angelo’s bicep. “Don’t misread it, Vince. He did it because he cares about you.”

  Vince scowled and stared down at the puzzle to avoid saying something nasty to any of his family on Christmas. He didn’t need anyone explaining how Angelo could be intrusive, sticking his nose in Vince’s business. He had a lifetime of experiencing it.

  His father walked in, carrying a cup of coffee. “Coffee’s made.” He sat down on his recliner and helped himself to a piece of baklava. “Add a little Kahlua, gives it a nice kick.” He took a bite of the dessert. As he chewed, he stared at the puzzle and then Vince. “So something is up.”

  “It’s a puzzle.” Vince threw his hands up in the air. “Why is everyone being so weird about this? It’s not a big deal.”

  His mother pinned him with her mom gaze. “Vincenzo, what’s going on? Something was on your mind last night and you’re even more distant today.”

  He gritted his teeth. No way was his family going to drop it. “Fine.” He ran his hand over his forehead. “I met someone.”

  She threw her hands up. “Finally, you admit it.”

  Angelo grunted. Catherine smiled.

  “Who else could get you rattled up like this, but a woman?” His mother nodded. “And have you run out on Christmas Eve?”

  Vince rolled his head to each side and cracked his neck. “I could’ve been meeting friends for a drink.”

  “No. We’re not buying that.” She leaned forward, eyes wide with speculation. “Tell us about what’s going on.”

  Vince groaned. “I can’t figure it out. I haven’t been able to since I met her at their wedding.” He motioned at Angelo and Catherine.

  His mother’s mouth dropped open. “You’ve known her for six months?” She planted her hands on her hips. “Why haven’t I heard anything until now?”

  That was hardly something new. Vince kept his personal matters to himself. For him to even reveal this much about a woman was proof that Emma had crawled under his skin, making him act in a way that wasn’t his usual modus operandi, and according to his peculiar family, affect his skills as a puzzle enthusiast.

  “We’re not together. I ran into her again here in Newport, and we’ve spent some time together. I can’t stop thinking about her, and I sure as hell can’t stay away.”

  “How does she feel about you?” Catherine tilted her head.

  Vince shrugged. “She sees me as a friend. Maybe a little more. She called me to come over last night. But I don’t know if it was because she wanted to see me or if she was just spooked.”

  “About?” Angelo prompted.

  Vince summed up what had happened with the break-in and the arrest. “She only called me because she was scared.”

  “But she called you. That means something.” His mother raised her index finger. “Who you go to in situations like that means a lot.”

  True. Could there be something with that? Or was it just because he had been the one to install the alarm?

  “I don’t know what to think.” He shook his head. “Am I being a fool pining for someone I can never have?” He rubbed the stubble along his jawline. Since that invoked a memory of Emma touching it and noting she liked it before they’d kissed, it didn’t help matters. He dropped his hand to his side.

  His parents exchanged a glance. Angelo and Catherine did as well. Damn couples and their secret language.

  “It’s the ones who make you work hard that are often those who are worth it.” His father raised his dessert fork. “Right, Marissa?”

  His mother smiled and nodded. “Absolutely.”

  Vince picked up a cannoli and raised it to his lips. Were they right? He thought while he chewed.

  What he wanted was to hear her voice. Before he was halfway through the dessert, he gave up on it and lowered the cannoli onto to a plate. After slipping into his old room for some privacy, he called Emma.

  She answered the phone. “Merry Christmas, Vince.” Her voice had an edge of breathlessness to it. “How is it?”

  Just hearing her provided a balm to the growing agony that had been crawling through him. “Fine. It could be better though.”

  “Oh, how so?”

  He paused and then swallowed. “If I spent the rest of it with you.”

  Fuck. The desperation rang clear in his voice, but he couldn’t mask it. He had to see her.

  One heartbeat. Two. Three. Four. Five...

  Shit. He took a deep breath, shielding himself for the rejection.

  “Come over.”

  Cha
pter Twelve

  Emma

  Emma paced through her living room and rubbed her lower lip. When she heard his husky tone, almost a plea to see her, every ounce of restraint in her body yielded. Her invitation sounded as strangled with need as his half-request.

  Was it a crazy idea? She stood in the same room where a stranger had violated her space the night before, but then Vince had come over and had chased her fears away. So much so that she’d felt relaxed enough to fall asleep in his arms.

  Maybe she was reclaiming her space, replacing what the intruder had taken from her to replace it with a better memory with Vince.

  The doorbell rang, and her heart thumped.

  She touched her necklace. Calm down. You’re getting worked up over nothing.

  Right, he was there last night, and he was there this morning. She shouldn’t feel all these wild sensations zipping through her as if him coming over was something new and exciting.

  She opened the door. When she stared into his intense dark eyes, her skin felt so tight and hot.

  Exhilarating. That was the only word that came to mind.

  “Hi, Vince.” Her voice had that higher breathlessness that had come out more and more when she was around him.

  “Emma.” His was low and throaty. He walked into her apartment and her pulse quickened.

  She sensed this was a huge step. As she closed the door, her limbs felt so light and foreign, like she was floating. She turned to him as if caught in slow motion.

  He took off his coat and revealed another Christmas sweater, which made her smile.

  “Lord of the Rings today?” She arched a brow.

  “My family knows me well.” He took one step closer to her. “I’m glad you invited me over.”

  The narrow distance between them pulsed with a vibrant heat.

  Her pulse quickened. “I’m glad you came.”

  Their gazes remained locked for several heart pounding beats. The dark desire in his eyes was unmistakable. This intense Marine with a geeky side did strange things to her, affected her in a way too intense to ignore.

  Vince raised a hand and cupped her cheek, searching her eyes. “I’ve been thinking about you since I left.”

  She leaned into the warmth of his palm. Her breath rose and fell more rapidly. Had anything ever felt so right?

  She swallowed. “I’ve been thinking about you too.”

  His gaze traveled to her lips. “What have you been thinking about?” He trailed his fingers over her jaw and over her neck.

  His touch and that low velvety murmur all but liquified every bone and muscle inside her. Why was she fighting against anything happening between them? She wanted him, he wanted her. It was pointless to struggle against what they both clearly desired.

  Emma reached up and touched the stubble growing on his jawline. “I was thinking about how much I liked having you here last night.” She swallowed and licked her lips, her gaze moving to his mouth. “And how much I want to do this again.”

  Rising to her tiptoes, she leaned up closer to him. He bent his head and met her halfway. When their lips touched again, every capillary in her taut body seemed to explode with jubilation, like bubbles bursting forth from an uncorked champagne bottle.

  He reached his hand around the back of her neck and cupped it, holding her there as the kiss grew more passionate.

  Was this wrong? Stupid? Further complicating her issues?

  Screw it, she didn’t care. Her world felt right again now that she was kissing Vince, so how could it be a problem?

  With his other hand, he stroked along her side. His touch ignited a fire she feared had been snuffed out after Peter’s betrayal. Tiny flames seemed to burst through the smoldering ruins of her heartache. Had she simply lay dormant all this time—waiting for the right person to make her feel alive again? To feel like a woman, wanted and desired.

  It wasn’t the first time Vince had brought that side of her to life. That one night at the hotel had been explosive, but this was different. Back at the wedding, he was just a hot guy for a hook up, a distraction in her screwed-up life. Now he was Vince, the intelligent, considerate, and humble man she was growing close to and it was too much for her to resist. He was as tormented by his past as she was with hers, and that haunted part of him was just as compelling to her troubled soul.

  He intensified the kiss, silencing her thoughts. His heat and hardness made her body tingle, and she ached for more.

  She led him into her room. Once they entered, her heart pounded harder. She’d imagined him in there with her so many times, and never as much as last night when he was so agonizingly close in her living room.

  Having him in there in the flesh outstripped any fantasy. His presence was impossible to ignore. He exuded such a raw, masculine intensity that swallowed all the oxygen in the room, leaving her breath ragged.

  “Are you all right?” His tone was gentle, ending with a hint of a rasp that sent a trickle of excitement between her legs.

  His concern comforted her. He’d protect her, just as he had since the time he’d installed her alarm and then watched over her last night.

  “Yes.” She exhaled with a measured breath. “It’s a little weird to have you here.”

  “How so?” His brows furrowed.

  She chewed her bottom lip before admitting, “Because I’ve been fighting with wanting this ever since running into you again.”

  His eyes widened and then darkened with desire. “Damn, Emma. I’ve wanted it too—for much longer. I thought about the hot woman I’d spent the night with since my brother’s wedding. And then since getting to know you here...” He raised a hand and turned it palm up. “It took all my control to not touch you.”

  She closed her eyes, picturing that hot night, but then squeezed it away. She was a hot mess then, but now she was in a better place, and she had a better sense of who she was.

  Emma ran her fingers along his jaw line and over his sensual lower lip. It was time to forget about the past and any fantasies when the real man was with her now and declared that he wanted her.

  “Touch me all you want, Vince.”

  He lifted his hand to her cheek and caressed her face. The way he looked at her was so intense. Her bottom lip trembled. God, she could melt staring into his dark eyes alone. What he could do to her with just a glance amazed her.

  When he followed up with his other hand, cupping her face, she all but ceased to breathe. The way he held her cheeks as he kissed her touched her somewhere deep within, some secret place where she recognized his gesture as protective, sensing he’d defend her from the horror in the world. So comforting.

  Maybe she was being foolish considering he’d be gone from her life soon, but tonight she wanted to forget about everything else and just be with him.

  He pulled back. “Are you okay, Emma?”

  The way he held her gaze captured her in some sort of dream state—one with heightened anticipation.

  “Yes. Kiss me again,” she pleaded.

  He bent down, and she leaned up on her tiptoes. They met in another kiss that seared her down to her feet. He removed one of his hands and trailed his fingers along the side of her neck. Heat traveled beneath her skin. He stroked lower, over her collarbone, down her shoulder, along her side. It was like he was tracing her to memory with his fingertips and igniting a fire that coursed through her body along the way.

  She pulled her lips a baby’s breath width away. “This feels different from last time.”

  “How so?” His warm breath mingled with hers as their lips remained close.

  That had been a quick and passionate hook up in a hotel room. They hadn’t known jack about each other. This time though, he wasn’t the hot stranger. He was Vince—caring, intense, and even more passionate.

  “More personal. Intense, I guess.”

  He swallowed. “I know what you mean.”

  Why was she talking when they could be doing other things? She wrapped her arms around him as they reignited t
he kiss, running her hands over the muscles in his back. Everything about him spoke of a hardened warrior with a gentle side.

  With one hand, he cupped her breast, and she moaned, leaning into his touch. As he slipped his tongue in her mouth and ran his hands over her body, her heartbeat quickened. She clutched at him as they fell back on the bed, gasping for air.

  He kissed her neck and nuzzled there. “You smell so good.”

  “God, I need you, Vince,” she murmured.

  “I want you too.” He kissed his way down the front of her body and then pulled up her sweater. When he touched her bare skin, her body tingled. Wherever he touched her, she smoldered. She reached up so he could remove her top and she fell back onto her bed, panting and waiting.

  The dark hunger in Vince’s eyes burned like fire in her veins. He lowered his head and kissed and trailed his tongue below her bra. As he traveled down below her belly button, her breath hitched. He unfastened her pants, and she arched her hips, desperate to get them off so he could continue drugging her with this pleasure.

  Once he slid them off her feet, he stared at her. “You’re so beautiful, Emma.”

  Wearing just a bra and panties, she felt exposed. She reached for his sweater and pushed it up. “I want to see you too.”

  He removed it and the Mordor T-shirt beneath and tossed them to the hardwood floor. His muscular chest and chiseled abs were even more carved than she’d remembered. She licked her lips. Delicious. The eagle, globe, and anchor tattoo and barbed wire tattoos were familiar. The shamrock one on his bicep wasn’t, but it reminded her of the necklace she wore.

  She touched it. “This is new.”

  When he flinched, the reason became clear.

  “O’Brien?”

  He glanced away and nodded, jaw clenched.

  Wishing she could brush some of his pain away, she ran her hands over his chest with a gentle touch. His muscles were taut with tension. She followed up her soft caresses with soft kisses. The more she touched him, the more she sensed him relax.