She sighed. “Do you want to come in for a drink?”
“I’m good. I should get home. Living with my parents is not ideal for dating.”
“Well, I wasn’t inviting you to spend the night, you know.” She shook her head. “Men.”
He just laughed, dipping his head and kissing her quickly. “Goodnight, Melinda. Dream of me.”
“Never.” Even as she went inside and closed the door behind her, she knew she’d lied. There was no way she would be able to think of anything else, and dreams would grow of it. Bobling Jake Quinn was one sexy Marine.
Jake was up early, fixing himself a bowl of cereal for breakfast. Without his sisters around, he’d be feeding himself, and that was just fine with him. He didn’t care that his mother didn’t cook. He never had.
He was just sitting down to eat when his mother came into the room.
“How was your date? Have I told you yet I’m glad you’re home safe and sound?”
“Once or twice, and it was good.” He felt strange having his mother question him about his dates as she had when he was in high school. Wasn’t he just a little too old for that?
“Good? Is that all you’re going to tell me?” April Lynn shook her head. “I’m not asking if you rocked the headboard. Just wondering if the two of you hit it off.”
Jake spewed his orange juice back into the glass. “Rocked the headboard? You realize you’re my mother, right?”
“You realize how you were made, right?” April Lynn shook her head. “You didn’t invent sex, Bobling.”
“Jake,” he corrected automatically, refusing to even look at his mother. He felt the sex talk coming on again, and he really didn’t need it. He took another bite of his cereal. “I’m going to Melinda’s place for lunch, and we’ll probably watch some movies this afternoon.”
“Movies, huh? All right. If that’s what you want to tell me, that’s just fine.” She walked across the kitchen and made herself some toast, spreading butter on it. “You’re sitting with us at church, though, right?”
“Oh, absolutely.” Jake would be happy to do anything, as long as his mother stopped talking about sex. That’s all he asked for in life.
His dad stepped into the room then. “You were out late, Bobling. I hope you had a good time.”
Jake sighed, ignoring the use of the ridiculous name he hated and making a mental note to put on one of his nametags before church. “We had a really nice time. It was good to go to the pub after so long.”
“Did they have live music and dancing last night?” April Lynn asked.
“They did. It wasn’t anything like what I’ve heard from Ivy, but it was decent.” And it had given him a chance to dance the night away with the most beautiful woman in the place. He could never complain about that.
Bob walked to the refrigerator and got himself an orange and some yogurt. It was the healthiest breakfast Jake had ever seen his father eat. “You’re going to like Blake as a pastor,” Bob said. “He’s not only a great future husband for Riley, he’s a good speaker.”
“I think that’s great. I haven’t heard a good sermon in a very long time.” Jake got to his feet. “I’m going to go put one of my nametags on, and then I’ll be ready.”
April Lynn laughed. “Do you really think that those nametags are going to work to keep people from calling you Bobling? I don’t think you’re going to be happy with the results.”
“Well, I have to at least try. I’m going to go nuts if people keep calling me that.” Jake went into his room and affixed a name tag to his dress shirt. “I’m going to walk to church!” he called as he headed for the front door.
“We’ll walk with you,” Bob replied.
Jake smiled. “I’m glad. It’s really good for your heart to walk.”
Bob shrugged. “I know it is. That doesn’t mean I want to do it.”
“You’ll get to the point you crave exercise. You’ll see.”
“I don’t think that’s happening anytime soon, but I hope so.”
April Lynn grabbed a pair of dress shoes and stuffed them into her oversized purse, putting sneakers on her feet. “This way I can look nice for church and not have sore feet.”
The three of them walked through the quiet streets together. The tourists hadn’t taken over the town for the entire day yet.
“It’s strange to see these familiar streets. I thought more would have changed while I was gone.”
Bob smiled. “That’s what I like best about Quinn Valley. Things rarely change.”
When they got to the church, Jake went in, separating from his parents but knowing he’d return to sit with them. Riley was standing beside Blake at the front of the church.
“Well, there’s my little sister, the future pastor’s wife.”
Riley wrinkled her nose. “I’m going to make a lousy pastor’s wife.”
Blake shook his head. “You’re going to be the best pastor’s wife I’ll ever have.”
Jake smiled at that, nodding emphatically. “I’m going to be proud to call you my brother.”
“Unlike Ciran?” Riley asked with a grin.
“I can deal with Ciran. He’s making me an uncle after all.” Jake looked around for Melinda and spotted her across the room, talking to his cousin David. He wanted to go over and put his arm around her, staking his claim, but he couldn’t. Not yet anyway.
He looked around again, spotting Jackson looking awfully proud of himself, Ambrosia right beside him. Jackson took Ambrosia’s hand and led her toward Jake. “She said yes. I’m getting married tomorrow.”
Jake smiled, shaking hands with Jackson. “I’m happy for you.”
Ambrosia made a face. “What about me? Are you happy this old spinster is finally going to lose her flower?”
When lightning didn’t strike the church, Jake nodded. “Very happy for you, Miss Ambrosia. I know Jackson will be a good husband to you.”
“He’d better be, or I’ll put a whammy on him.”
“Of course you will. I would expect nothing less.”
“No whammies will be needed. I will worship you as the exotic princess you are.” Jackson took her hand and brought it to his lips. “How about being my best man?”
“Oh, I wouldn’t have it any other way. Are you writing your own vows?” Jake knew he shouldn’t have asked, because it might put ideas in their heads, but he wanted to hear whatever the two of them came up with.
Ambrosia grinned. “I hadn’t thought of that, but I sure will now. I’m writing my own vows.”
Jackson nodded. “I am already thinking about mine. They’ll be wonderful.”
“Is Blake performing the ceremony?” Jake asked.
“He is. It’ll be at five. Bring a date.” Jackson winked at Jake.
Jake’s eyes automatically went to Melinda. He wondered if she was free. “I’ll do that.” He wandered away from them and toward Melinda, who had finished her conversation with David. “Hello there.”
Melinda grinned at him, her eyes lighting up. “I like your nametag.”
“Me too.” He wasn’t going to let her make fun of it. “Are you working at five tomorrow?”
“No, I get off at four tomorrow. Why?”
“How would you like to be my date for a wedding?” he asked casually.
She clapped her hands together excitedly. “Jackson and Ambrosia?”
“Yup. They’re getting married, and I’m the best man.”
“At least you don’t have to visit him in the hospital.”
Jake looked around and then leaned toward her so only she could hear. “I got them to write their own vows.”
Melinda covered her mouth with her hand. “Oh, my. That’s going to be amazing.”
“Won’t it?”
They were invited to take their seats then, so he hurried off toward his family after promising to see her right after the service. He couldn’t wait to spend time with her.
During the sermon, Jake realized his father was right. Blake was a very goo
d speaker, and it wasn’t hard to listen to him at all. The topic of the sermon was loving your enemy, and Jake thought about the men he’d had to kill while in Iraq and Afghanistan. It had been hard, and many of their faces still haunted him.
Loving your enemy . . . it wasn’t something a Marine could really do. But he wasn’t a Marine anymore, and he would do his very best. He took a deep breath, trying to think about the future and not the horrible days of war that were behind him.
After the sermon, he talked to many of the people in town who hadn’t recognized him until they saw him with his parents. “Bobling, it’s so good to see you! Why do you have that ‘My name is Jake’ nametag on. I know you’re Bobling. Are you trying to hide your real identity?” A friend of his grandmother’s asked.
He simply smiled. “I’ve been using the name Jake instead of Bobling while I’ve been in the military. I was hoping I could teach the people of Quinn Valley to call me Jake as well. Even though most are too stuck in their ways to even try . . .”
The older woman narrowed her eyes at him. “Are you saying I’m too old to learn to call you Jake?”
“Oh, no, ma’am. I’d never say that. I have a great deal of respect for my elders.”
“Fine. Jake. I’ll show you just how progressive I can be.” With that, she hurried away from him.
Jake hated that he’d had to offend the woman, but he couldn’t deal with being called Bobling for even another minute. She’d read the nametag and still called him by the ridiculous nickname. Did she think he was wearing it for his health?
He talked to several other people, most of them ignoring his nametag to call him Bobling. He wanted to scream. Finally, he found Melinda across the sanctuary, and he took her hand, not saying a word until they were out of the church. “Why is it so hard to understand that I don’t want to be called by that ludicrous name?”
“I’m really not sure, but I know no one is willing to even try to call you Jake. It’s really strange. Though I did hear old Mrs. Miller complaining that you had told her she was too old to change her ways . . .”
He laughed. “I didn’t. But I may have implied it to get her to call me Jake. She was driving me crazy, making fun of the fact that I wanted to be called something else.”
“She’s never really been known for her tact, has she?”
“Nope. And I’ve known her since I was knee-high to a grasshopper.” He started walking toward her house, happy that they would have some time together. Time alone, which meant no one would be calling him Bobling, and he wouldn’t slowly lose his mind. “What did you make for lunch?”
“I know you love your mom’s lasagna, but I thought you might like to try mine. I use alfredo sauce and sausage instead of tomato sauce and ground beef. It has a really good flavor. I put the lasagna together, though I need to stick it in the oven for a while, I’ll make a salad, and I’ll pop garlic bread in the oven. We’ll be eating soon, so you won’t even have to complain that you’re starving to death.”
“That sounds delicious. I’m sure willing to give it a try.”
When they got to her house, she opened the door for him and led him inside. “I’m going to throw the lasagna in the oven. Make yourself comfortable.”
Instead of sitting in the living room, he followed her into the kitchen, looking around. “Nice kitchen!”
She laughed. “When I bought this house, the only room I wanted an immediate remodel of was the kitchen. I wanted a chef’s kitchen, and now I have one. Do you want something to drink?”
He nodded. “Water or iced tea would be great.”
Grabbing a glass from a cabinet beside the sink, she filled it with ice and then added water. “Here you go. You can sit while I finish getting everything ready.”
“What if I want to watch you?”
She put her hands on her hips. “Why do you want to watch me?”
“Because you’re beautiful and I never get enough of watching you.”
Melinda shook her head. “Sometimes I wonder what I did for ego boosts before you came home.” She couldn’t deny she liked the compliments, but they were hard to believe at times.
He smiled, leaning on the counter and watching her work on the salad. “No idea. But I’m here for you now.”
“I talked to Raina and Riley about the dishes you chose for their wedding, and they both said they sound great. They really are easy to please.” Melinda was pleased to have people so easy for her first catering clients.
“Me too. Especially when people give me cookies.”
She sighed. “You want cookies?”
“I thought you’d never ask!” Jake said, wondering if she had boxed cookies or if she’d made them from scratch. Of if she—God forbid—had no cookies at all. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to keep seeing her if she had no cookies. It would be too sad.
Melinda sighed. “Be glad I felt like baking last night.”
“You baked after I dropped you off?” he asked, surprised.
“I was too hyper to sleep, and baking always soothes me. There’s something about getting your hands covered in cookie dough that makes everything right with the world.”
“Hey, you are welcome to calm yourself by baking cookies any time. I’m really good at eating them.”
She shook her head, opening a cookie jar and piling several cookies on a plate. “How many hours will you have to work out to get rid of these calories?” she asked.
He shrugged. “I don’t worry about that. I burn off more than anyone else I know. I just have a high metabolism.”
“Well, I’ll try not to hate you, then. Will you please sit down with your cookies before you make me crazy?” Melinda wasn’t sure she could stand for him to hover over her for another minute.
“Do I intimidate you?” he asked.
“Yes! Is that what you want?”
“Not particularly, but it’s a good start.” With a grin, Jake took his cookies into the living room and ate them. It was fun to see her with her feathers ruffled. He was quickly learning what made her tick.
Eight
While Jake was sitting waiting for her to finish making lunch, a small tiger kitty jumped onto his lap. “You must be Kaz. I heard your mama talking about you, but she didn’t bother to tell me anything. She likes to hide things from me.” He stroked the cat from his head all the way to the tip of his tail, and the kitty turned in a circle and plopped down, obviously ready to nap.
He shrugged. He’d been an animal bed once or twice before, and he was good at it. Everyone had to have a skill, after all.
When it was time to eat, he just scooped the kitten under one arm and carried him into the kitchen with him. They went out the back door, and he was surprised to see that she’d already “set the table,” so to speak. The whole spread looked wonderful. “If I like this lasagna better than my mom’s, I can’t tell her. Just so you know.”
Melinda laughed. “I would never ask you to do that. But you can tell me, right?”
He grinned. “I’m going to decide they’re two different dishes, I think. That way I won’t feel guilty.”
“Sounds smart to me.” She sank down onto the picnic basket and picked up her plate, which had already been loaded with food in a way only a chef could present a meal. “I hope you like it. I know you grew up with a totally different kind of lasagna.”
“I did. I’ll let you know.” He grinned at her as he used the side of his fork to get a bite of the dish. He looked at it, fascinated by how different it looked from what he’d expected. “It looks and smells wonderful.”
“Well, taste it!”
He grinned, slowly putting the bite into his mouth and chewing, carefully keeping his face neutral. Once he’d swallowed, he took a sip of his water before saying anything. “I think that might just be the most delicious thing I have ever put in my mouth.”
She raised her hands in the air in triumph. “I’m so glad! That was my favorite thing I taught myself to make before culinary school. I perfected it there, of
course, but it was just something I needed to eat.” She took a bite of her own, thrilled that he liked it.
As they ate, they chatted, talking about her kitty and his time in the Marines.
“You served a long time,” Melinda said. “What kept you reenlisting over and over?”
He had to think about that for a moment. “I was really proud to be a Marine. I’m proud to have served my country. They helped me achieve several certifications for personal training, and I think they furthered my career outside the service. I love that I was able to live on a shoestring, because I never needed base housing or anything. So, I saved a lot in the time I served. I didn’t like going to war, but I liked being able to defend the helpless, if that makes any kind of sense at all. I knew what I had to do the day the Twin Towers fell. I remember sitting in class and watching what happened, and I promised myself that day, I would be defending my country one day. So, I did.”
“I’m pretty proud to be dating a former Marine, to be honest with you. I think you did something wonderful for our country, and I know you probably have emotional scars as a result. They don’t make you less, though . . . they make you more.” Melinda reached over and covered his hand with hers, and he thought maybe she really did understand how he felt about the whole thing. He’d never really talked about it with anyone else, because it was hard to put into words.
After their picnic, he helped her clean up, and then they went into the living room to watch a movie.
He looked over at her with pursed lips. “Don’t tell me. You only watch rom-coms?”
She shook her head adamantly. “I was hoping we could watch some superhero movies. Those are my favorites.”
He laughed. “I hope my sisters never manage to influence you.”
“I doubt they will. The spa people don’t hang out with the restaurant people a whole lot.”
“Roxie isn’t spa . . .”
“I do spend time with her, planning food for events. She’s never invited me to see a movie, though. Should I feel slighted?”
He shook his head, sat down in the middle of her couch, and looked at her. He was hoping she’d sit on either side of him, and she looked between him and the chair perpendicular to the couch. “If I sit next to you, it doesn’t mean I’m inviting you to start kissing me and stuff.”
Moonstruck Marine Page 7
