by Cathie Linz
“Is that all I was doing?”
He was giving her that look again. And using that seductive tone of voice. He’d done a lot more than distract her. He’d stolen her heart.
The sound of her stomach growling with unladylike intensity interrupted her soul-searching.
“I need food,” she muttered. “And I need it fast.” She reached for the phone book. “Do you want Mexican, Thai or Chinese takeout?”
“Chinese sounds fine.”
Half an hour later they were sitting on a sheepskin rug on either side of the weathered pine coffee table in her living room, dipping chopsticks into various cartons of food. Or, to be more precise, Striker was dipping, she was stabbing. Kate was no pro where chopsticks were concerned.
“Where did you learn to use these so well?” She waggled the chopsticks at him.
“Why? Are you impressed with my manual dexterity?”
“Mmm.” She already knew he had the ability to undo her bra in the blink of an eye, despite the fact that a tornado whirled over their heads.
“Shall I show you what else I can do with my hands?”
“Shall I show you what I can do with mine?” she countered, loving playing the seductress with him. It wasn’t a role she’d ever had the confidence to attempt before.
“Oh yeah.”
“Are you ready?”
“Oh yeah.”
“Are you sure?”
“If I were any more ready I’d explode.”
“We can’t have that.” She scooted around the edge of the coffee table so that she was beside him. Then she ran the tips of her fingers over his jawline, slightly rough with stubble. “Are you watching?” She trailed one hand down his shirtfront, playing with the buttons on his denim shirt but not undoing them. Every so often she’d dart her finger between the material to caress his bare chest.
“I’m watching…and waiting.”
She could feel the rumble of his voice beneath her hand.
“Are you in a hurry?”
“Depends what you have in mind.”
“Telling you that would ruin the anticipation, now wouldn’t it?”
Her hand lowered to his abdomen. She swirled the tip of her nail around his navel before leaning closer to daintily lick the corner of his mouth. “Mmm, you taste good.”
“So do you…” He lightly brushed his lips across hers, barely touching yet arousing intense emotions.
She pulled back. The last time they’d kissed the smoke alarm had gone off. While in his embrace, she’d lost track of time, of everything. “We really do need to talk….”
Striker groaned. “Later.” He murmured the words against her mouth.
“No.” She leaned away. If he kissed her again she wouldn’t be able to think at all. “Now. We have to talk now.”
“Are you having second thoughts because we work together?”
She nodded. That was one of the reasons. And there was still the fact that he was a Marine. But he’d changed since coming to King Oil. She’d seen the transformation since he’d suggested starting with a clean slate.
“So what do you suggest we do?”
She hadn’t expected him to put the ball in her court. She’d expected him to take charge, as he so often did.
“I thought we could talk about that.”
“Start by telling me why you backed off this past week,” Striker demanded. “Was it something your mother said to you?”
“No. What made you think that?”
“You haven’t been the same since she caught us kissing outside your loft that night.”
“It wasn’t anything she said.”
“Then what was it?”
“I needed time to think.”
He reached out to cup her cheek in the palm of his hand. “Just don’t tell me that you want to end this.”
“I don’t. Can we just take things one day at a time and see where that leads us?”
“I think I can manage that if you can.”
“I can.” She just didn’t know if she could manage not falling in love with him. She had a feeling it was already too late.
The next few weeks went by in a blur of happiness. Kate had no idea that taking each day as it came and enjoying the moment could be so wonderful. The October sun seemed brighter, the air clearer. She smiled more often and laughed a lot. And she relaxed.
On days when Kate didn’t have a court appearance, she’d replace her power suit with a stylish look like the beige suede skirt and black jersey top she wore today. She’d brought lunch from her favorite deli to Striker’s office. They were seated on a red-and-white gingham tablecloth that she’d packed in her oversized tote bag.
“What else do you have in there?” Striker asked. “Any dessert?”
“You’ll just have to wait and see.”
It didn’t matter how many times she’d seen him in jeans and a denim shirt, he never failed to make her heart race. He looked so completely at home, surrounded by financial spreadsheets and management reports. His short hair had gotten a little longer, his tan a little deeper. She could just sit there and watch him forever.
Looking up, he grinned at her. Again, she noticed how that changed his entire face. The dark side of him that she’d noticed when they’d first met had melted into the background, allowing the more fun-loving Striker to come out. The one who loved his collection of Hawaiian shirts, who sang along with country-western songs on the radio.
“I’m driving down to the coast for another set of meetings with the guys on the oil rigs in the Gulf on Friday,” he said. “Want to join me?”
“To visit an oil rig?”
“You can lie on the beach while I do that.”
“Is that your way of saying you’d like to see me in a swimsuit?”
His grin deepened. “Absolutely. Was I that obvious?”
“No, you were quite smooth.”
“So, will you come with me? It’s not that long a drive. A few hours. We don’t have to stay overnight if you don’t want to.”
Oh, but she did want to. Intensely.
“King Oil has a corporate beach house down there, right on the Gulf. It’s got several bedrooms.”
We’ll only need one. She didn’t speak the words aloud but they resonated in her heart. The time had come.
“Yes, I’ll come with you.”
“Great.”
And it was great. The weather was perfect when he picked her up on Friday morning. The drive down was scenic or maybe it was just her state of mind. Everything looked good to her, from road signs to the silhouette of live oak.
It had taken her several hours to decide what to wear, but now she was glad she’d gone with the black denim skirt and the red off-the-shoulder top. The skirt was shorter than those Striker had previously seen her in, and his heated gaze told her he approved. She’d packed enough clothes for a week, and not one single business suit. She’d packed two swimsuits. The first was a traditional one-piece, the other was a bikini that showed more skin than she’d ever displayed before. She still wasn’t sure if she’d have the nerve to wear it.
But she was sure that she wanted to be with Striker. He looked great as always in his jeans and denim shirt.
“Tell me something about yourself,” she said. “Something most people don’t know about you.”
“That I know the lyrics to Kenny Rogers’s ‘The Gambler.”’
She laughed. “I know that already. I’ve heard you sing it. Tell me something else. Tell me about your name. It’s an unusual one. At first I thought it might be a nickname, but it’s on your birth certificate.” She knew because that document was in the file she had on him regarding his inheritance.
“My mom usually loves telling this story and she does a much better job of it than I do.”
“She’s not here now.” His parents had continued their travels in the RV. “So you tell me.”
“It was a dark and stormy night…”
“It always is in stories like this.”
/> “My mom was pregnant with me. My dad was stationed at Camp Pendleton in San Diego. I wasn’t due for another three weeks. So my dad saw no harm in driving her up along the coast when she insisted on getting away from the congestion of the city. They got off the main highway and took a few detours. Then I decided to come early. My dad probably could have managed a normal delivery but there was a complication. Things were getting dicey when another car finally came along. As fate would have it, the driver was a country doctor. An older guy, but he knew what to do. Saved my life and my mother’s. In gratitude, my father promised to name his newborn son after the doctor. When he discovered the doctor’s name was Otis Striker, he went with the Striker part. For which I am eternally grateful. Growing up with a name like Otis would have been tough.”
“What about your brothers? Do they have unusual names, too?” She’d seen their names in the file but hadn’t paid much attention.
“Not all of them, no. My youngest brothers are twins, but you probably already knew that.”
She did remember Hank talking about the twins.
“What about you?” Striker reached over to twine his fingers through hers. “Tell me something about you that most people don’t know.”
“That I love the Dixie Chicks song ‘Cowboy Take Me Away.”’
“What else?”
“That Halloween is my least favorite holiday.”
“I don’t know… I seem to recall enjoying your handing out goodies the other night.”
Striker had come to her loft with a stack of scary videos and a pizza. He’d clearly gotten a kick out of watching the few kids who’d come to her door. He’d taken even more pleasure in hand-feeding her slices of pizza and kissing the tomato sauce from her lips.
“So what do you have against Halloween?”
“Perhaps I should have said that Halloween used to be my least favorite holiday. You changed that last night.”
“Glad to hear it.”
Striker had changed a lot of things for her. She’d stopped worrying about the future. She’d stopped being so uptight about perfection. He was driving an American-made convertible and the wind was messing up her hair. She didn’t care. She was with Striker and that was enough.
They arrived at Port Aransas by noon, passing motel courts, bait shops and beach cottages until they reached their destination. Located right on the edge of the broad, gently sloping beach was the stunning house.
The floor plan was an open concept; the living area blended with the kitchen, and the focus was on the view through the huge windows. The master bedroom was on the main floor, and the guest bedrooms upstairs.
Striker opened the sliding door that led to the deck facing the Gulf. He inhaled the salt air. “This reminds me of my beach house on Pirate’s Cove. A little island off the coast of North Carolina. It’s not as grand as this place. It’s an A-frame and I helped build it. But it’s all mine. Anyway, I’ll let you settle in while I head out to my meeting. I should be back by four.”
“Come on, admit it, you’re getting a kick out of this,” she said.
“Out of being here with you?”
“Out of running King Oil.”
“I guess I am.” He kissed her quickly and headed out.
Kate wasn’t sure how to unpack given the fact that she wanted to share the master bedroom with Striker tonight. Be bold, she told herself. So she hung her clothes in the closet. And unpacked the few things that Striker had brought with him, including two of his beloved Hawaiian shirts.
And because she was a bold woman now, she also decided to put on the black bikini she’d brought instead of the one-piece swimsuit. After applying sunscreen, she sat out on the deck and enjoyed the sun and the surf. She hadn’t brought any work with her—a first for her. So she amused herself by watching the sandpipers skittering along the water, staying just ahead of the rolling surf. Pelicans patrolled the skies, hunting fish in the shallow water. This section of the beach was quiet this time of year.
She must have dozed off, because the next time she glanced at her watch it was almost four. She went inside to freshen up in preparation for Striker’s return when she heard a noise from the master bedroom.
“Is that you, Striker?”
“Yeah.”
“I didn’t know you were back. You should have come out and gotten me…”
She paused on the threshold to the master bedroom. Striker was rapidly returning his clothing to his bag. Was this his way of telling her he didn’t want to share a bedroom with her?
Don’t panic, she ordered herself. Find out what’s going on. Ask him. Don’t assume the worst.
“Did something happen at the meeting? Do we have to go back to San Antonio?”
“Yeah. I’ve got a plane to catch.”
“A plane? Where to?”
“Washington. The Marine Corps needs me.”
Chapter Eleven
“The Marine Corps?” Kate couldn’t believe this was happening. Maybe she’d fallen asleep out on the deck and this was just a nightmare. Maybe if she pinched herself she’d wake up…
It didn’t work. Striker still stood there packing.
She tried to draw air into her lungs, but it suddenly seemed too heavy to breathe. The tightness in her chest intensified at his remote expression.
“That’s right. The Marine Corps.”
“I don’t understand.” Her brain refused to cooperate, unable to process what she was hearing. A desperate chill set in. She grabbed the brightly colored cotton wrap she’d left on the bed and awkwardly slid her arms into the sleeves before wrapping it around her. The trembling that had begun within her heart had now spread throughout her entire body.
Today was supposed to be the moment, the time when she and Striker shared the ultimate intimacy and made love. Instead he stood there, telling her that the Marine Corps needed him. What about her? She needed him, too.
“My two-month deployment here is over. I’m needed on a special op overseas.”
“Your deployment?” That certainly put it into perspective. Pain tightened her throat, making it hard for her to get the words out. “Is that all this was for you? Another mission?”
“I thought you understood.”
“Well, I don’t! I thought you wanted to continue on here at King Oil.”
“And I thought you’d accepted me as I am. A Force Recon Marine.”
“You never talked about returning to the Marines.”
“What was there to talk about?”
“The fact that you had no intention of staying here. That what we had together was nothing more than another fling for you.”
“You never talked about what would happen at the end of the two months, either.”
He was right. She’d avoided the subject, even though she knew the date was rapidly arriving, had in fact arrived. Today. She’d told herself it was because she was trusting in the future, not anticipating the worst. She’d been foolish to stick her head in the sand.
“How long have you known?”
“I got the message an hour ago.”
“And you couldn’t wait to get back here and pack your bags.” She was overcome with déjà vu of Ted’s eagerness to head off to some new and dangerous adventure. And now here was Striker, doing exactly the same thing.
“I never lied to you.”
“You never told me the truth, either.” He’d let her believe that he might be staying indefinitely at King Oil. Had let her fall in love with him. “Because you knew that if you told me you were returning to the Marines that I wouldn’t get involved with you.”
Her accusation scored a direct hit with Striker. She was right. He hadn’t been completely upfront with her.
Striker knew he should have avoided getting involved with Kate. But he couldn’t help himself. A first for him. Usually his self-discipline was immense. But not where Kate was concerned.
Even so, a part of him had hoped that she’d cared for him enough to honor his commitment to the Marine Corps, t
o understand his duty. To say she’d wait for him. That clearly wasn’t the case.
“This seems to be where I came in.” His jaw clenched. “With you saying how much you dislike Marines. It was fine when you pretended I was the head of King Oil, wasn’t it? Then it was great for me to kiss you. It was fine for you to flirt with me. To hang your clothes next to mine in the closet.”
So he had noticed. “I thought we had a future together,” she shot back, blinking away the tears.
“So did I. But clearly you want something I can’t give you. You want someone I’m not.” His expression was dark and closed in, shutting her out. “I’ve got a plane to catch.” He placed the car keys on the dresser. “You’re welcome to use my car to go back to San Antonio.”
He was gone a second later, leaving her standing there all alone, her dreams shattered by reality once again.
Two days later, Kate was curled up on her couch, screening her calls through her answering machine. “Kate, this is your mother. Pick up the phone. I know you’re there. I’m downstairs, right outside your building and I’ll be up there in two minutes.”
Great. That’s all she needed. Her mother telling her what a mess Kate had made of her life.
Kate lifted the receiver. “There’s no need for you to come over.”
“There certainly is. Your father told me that you stayed home from the office yesterday and today.”
“It’s the flu.”
“It’s the Marine. I heard Striker has left town. I’m standing outside your door. Let me in.”
Kate reluctantly did, but only because she knew her mother wouldn’t go away. “I know, I know. I look awful, right?” Her eyes were red and so was her nose. She’d never been a pretty crier.
“Oh, honey.” Elizabeth patted her shoulder awkwardly. “You look like a woman who’s had her heart broken.”
Kate wiped away the tears. “It’s my own fault.”
“I find that hard to believe.”
“It’s true.” Kate curled up on her couch again. “Striker told me from the very beginning how important the Marine Corps is to him. It’s as much a part of him as his green eyes. But I thought I could change him, that being at King Oil would turn him into something he’s not.”
