Wyne and Dine (Citizen Soldier Series Book 1)

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Wyne and Dine (Citizen Soldier Series Book 1) Page 6

by Donna Michaels


  “You just wanted her for yourself.”

  Damn. He’d forgotten about that. Once the girls had turned fifteen, he and his brothers had taken it upon themselves to warn off any of the soldiers who showed interest. It had worked for the most part. But the guys were right, he was still doing it. Just last week, he caught a new transfer eying up Lea’s legs when she’d leaned across a table. He’d ripped the kid a new one. She deserved better. Someone without possible deployment and uncertainty in their future.

  Brandi is happy with Kade, his mind interjected. He ignored it.

  “Na, he’s just smart,” Colonel Dankirk said, shoving a drink in his hand. “That woman’s a keeper, and he knows a good thing when he sees it.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  But he didn’t. Not really.

  Ben had no idea what a good thing was because he avoided it like the plague. Lea was definitely white-picket, and he was camouflage. Hell, until a few days ago, she was like his little sister.

  Not after that kiss today.

  He’d never consider her that way again. Damn. He lifted his glass in a salute, then drank the scotch and contemplated his dilemma as the liquid burned a path to the knot in his stomach. It felt as if he was in a sinking rowboat in the middle of a lake with no paddle.

  “So, Colonel, is it true we’re acquiring another SIGNAL company?” one of the lieutenants asked.

  Ben welcomed the change of subject, even if he’d already heard the news unofficially last weekend when he’d drilled down Fort Indiantown Gap. More communications equipment to inventory and add to the books.

  “Yes, as of fifteen May twenty-fifteen, the armory at Myersville will be under our command.” His superior hit him with a frank stare. “That means, Ben, we’ll need to make provisions for their equipment and so on.”

  He nodded. “Yes, sir.” He knew the drill. The amount of companies they’d gained and dropped in the past two years kept him hopping.

  Another scotch and two games of pool later, Ben emerged from the house in search of his girlfriend who was supposedly outside watching the sunset. He’d had about all the shop talk he could take, and as much as he wanted to avoid the new temptation, he couldn’t, in good conscience, let her alone, or worse, at the mercy of Mrs. Dankirk.

  “Ah, so you’ve emerged outside without peril,” Lea said when he rounded a tall hedge in the garden.

  “Yep,” he replied, having truthfully forgotten Mrs. Velcro was on the loose. “How was your art tour?”

  A laugh escaped her throat and echoed around them. “Swell, got any valium?”

  Ben’s smile disappeared when he stopped next to her, noting the head-to-toe tremors wracking her body. He grasped her shoulders and twisted her to face him. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

  Weird, he hadn’t sensed anything, and he usually did when family and friends were in some kind of trouble. A type of sixth sense he’d inherited from his mother’s side of the family.

  “Swell, got any valium?”

  “Lea, I’m serious.”

  “So am I.”

  Cursing under his breath, he dragged her to a nearby bench and forced her to sit down, then sat next to her, rubbing her arms. “What is going on?”

  “Oh, nothing. I just ate boxed macaroni and cheese off a rare Victorian plate worth more than I make in a month.”

  He let out a breath, and swallowed a few curses. “Is that all?” Jesus, she scared him.

  “Is that all? Is that all?” she wailed, punching his shoulder.

  She certainly seemed to enjoy punching him today.

  “Didn’t you hear me? It’s priceless. Rare…as in antique. It should be in a museum, not soaking up grease and cheese and placed in a microwave.” She sucked in a breath and squeezed his arm. “Oh my God. You don’t think they put it in the microwave, do you?”

  Ben had no idea, but for the sake of his arm and blood supply to his fingers he shook his head. “No.”

  She exhaled and released her hold, but she still shook. “I won’t even tell you where they’re hanging their Rembrandt.” She swallowed visibly. “On a wall, in direct sunlight.”

  He didn’t know much about the arts, but even he knew that was a big mistake.

  She stood, then began to pace. “I’m not sure I can do this, Ben. I want to help you. I really do, but they have such incredible treasures with no regard to their preservation.”

  He shot to his feet and stepped in front of the distressed woman. “Hey, it’s okay,” he said, grabbing her hands and placing them on his chest. “It’s okay.”

  “How?” she asked, shaking beginning to subside. “Didn’t you hear me? They’re washing King George I’s dishes in the dishwasher. How is that okay?”

  He bent at the knee and smiled down at her. “Because he doesn’t need them anymore.”

  Big blue eyes blinked twice before her gaze cleared and she slapped her palm off his chest. “You’re a goof, you know that?”

  “So I’ve been told.”

  She laughed, then wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him close. “Thanks.”

  He tried not to notice the generous breasts crushed against him, but without the jacket of his uniform as a barrier, he felt every delectable curve. “For what?” he drew back enough to stare down into her pretty face. “I owe you the thanks. You saved more than my ass tonight at dinner.”

  The left-side of her mouth tugged upward into a grin. “What? She didn’t get to play hide the sausage?”

  This time he laughed, then groaned at the thought. “No, and it would be grab the sausage.”

  “Not if I were playing.” Her hand flew to her mouth as her face turned beet red. “Tell me I didn’t say that out loud.”

  God, she was adorable.

  “Okay,” he answered, unable to stop the smile from spreading across his face. “But you did, and I’d really like to know what you meant by that.”

  As her color deepened, so did his attraction. Damn it. He was playing with fire. He needed to release her. Get as far away from the temptress as possible. Once his hands and feet complied, he’d hightail it up to their room for a cold shower.

  “Uh oh.” She glanced at something behind him. “I think I saw someone.”

  Ah, hell. Just what he needed. Now, he had to continue to hold her close, which made his body yell, Hell yeah. Then she really kicked up his pulse when her hands inched back up around his neck, and she tugged his face toward her.

  “Don’t freakout,” she whispered a mimic of his earlier words. “But I’m going to kiss you now.”

  For a beat, they shared a breath before her sweet lips took his, tasting and nibbling. And heaven help him, her tongue lightly brushed his lower lip, shooting a spike of heat to his rapidly tightening groin. That was it. He didn’t give a shit about who was or wasn’t watching them. Even King George I himself. All Ben knew was he wanted to taste more of the amazing woman.

  A lot more.

  Cupping the back of her head with one hand and her supple ass with the other, he crushed her close, thrusting his tongue inside her warm, wet mouth, exploring her hot taste fully for the first time. She was exquisite. Her soft, sexy moan wreaked havoc with his pulse, and when their tongues touched, his erection throbbed.

  Jesus, he’d never been this aroused this fast by just one kiss. Damn woman had him so off kilter he lost sight of the horizon. He couldn’t get enough. She was addicting. Even when they broke for air, he needed to taste her, had to keep his mouth on her delicious body. With her hair piled on top of her head, he had full access to her throat and began to kiss a path down her neck. Her second moan, and the way she clutched at his back, stiffened his groin until the zipper bit into his flesh.

  So he bit into hers. Behind her ear.

  The hitch in her breath fueled his hunger, and if it hadn’t been for the sound of laughter and approaching footsteps on the garden pavers, he might’ve taken the embrace a lot further.

  Which pissed him off.

  He was acting
like a horny teenager again. The lack of control was disturbing. Especially since his good friend was the cause. He’d watched her grow up. They’d shared triumphs and sorrows, and a lot of pizzas in between, but through it all, they’d remained friends.

  Where the hell had this attraction come from? Better yet, where the hell had it been?

  No, that was not a good question. Not a safe one, anyway. He had to keep his wits about him. Today was almost over. He just had to make it through one more day.

  “There you two are,” Mrs. Dankirk said, rounding the corner with one of the officers and his wife. “I was just showing the Bartons the garden, but it’s getting dark.”

  “Yes,” Lea said, voice still a little throaty and way too sexy. “But it’s still lovely.”

  Their hostess smiled. “Thank you. We’re getting ready to turn in. It’s been a long day.”

  “Us, too.”

  Lea shifted closer, and his heart dropped to his ribs. He was in no condition to be alone with the woman.

  “Wonderful. Before you go up, Ben, my husband said he wanted to see you in the study.”

  Thank God. “Okay.”

  With a nod, their hostess and the Bartons headed back the way they came. Leaving him alone with Lea.

  He released her and stepped back. “I’d better see what the colonel needs.”

  They walked back in silence, mostly because he had no damn clue what to say. Hopefully, she’d believe his kisses had been for show. Because, regardless of his arousal, he had no intention of acting on their unexpected attraction.

  Leaving her at the bottom of the steps, he waited until she cleared the second landing before he pivoted around and marched toward the study, thankful for the reprieve.

  Twenty-four hours to go. How hard could that be?

  He walked into the darkened study and stopped dead. Where was the colonel?

  “I was beginning to think you weren’t going to show,” Mrs. Dankirk said, pushing him against the door that shut behind him, while sneaking a hand beneath his shirt as she kissed his neck.

  Son-of-a-bitch!

  He grasped the woman by the shoulders and shoved her none-too-gently away. “Enough.” He flipped on the light. “We’ve been through this before. I’m not interested. Your husband’s a good man. Show him some respect.”

  “I know he is,” she replied, straightening her dress. “He’s just not…enough.”

  “Well, look elsewhere. I’m not interested.” Without waiting for a reply, he whipped open the door and strode out.

  The unfaithful woman just solidified what he already knew: Relationships and the military did not mix. He’d tried and failed. Mason had tried and failed with his bride walking away the day of the wedding. His dad had tried and failed, once; the second to Brandi’s mother didn’t count since Catherine’s life was cut so short. Then there was his older brother Ethan. His wife had died in a skiing accident while he’d been deployed, but Ben had suspected the woman had been cheating. Not something his older brother needed to know. But it had certainly added to his own disillusionment.

  And what the colonel’s wife just pulled cemented his views on women and relationships.

  They weren’t worth it.

  With a new resolve strengthening his control, Ben entered his room and shut the door, relief easing the tension from his shoulders. At least he’d be safe from their hostess for the night. He turned around…and stopped dead.

  Holy hell…

  Stopped breathing.

  Didn’t blink.

  Mind blanked.

  Again.

  The most beautiful, erotic vision emerged from the bathroom, gorgeous breasts spilling out of the light blue silk and black lace corset thing causing a stranglehold on his breathing and tight grip on his groin.

  Lea smiled, then twisted completely around, giving him a glimpse of her perfect, spankable cheeks, nearly sending him into cardiac arrest. He rubbed his chest, fighting the heat and fog overtaking his body. God, she was stunning.

  The urge to press her against the wall and sink into her lush, hourglass curves shook through him. And because he wanted to, with every hard, throbbing muscle in his over-heated body, Ben did the only honorable thing he could.

  He turned around and walked out.

  Chapter Four

  He left.

  Lea stumbled to the bed on shaky legs and sank onto the mattress. He walked out. Why? Had she misread his kisses? Did he really only see her as a kid sister? Her jumbled mind tried to latch onto an explanation, but none were forthcoming.

  Oh God, what have I done?

  Before mortification set in, she got up and changed into a T-shirt and shorts, resisting the urge to trash the nightie. She fingered the silky material. It had been a sweet gesture from Jordan and the girls, and didn’t belong at the bottom of the dump. The floor maybe, after great sex, but not the dump. She shoved it back in her suitcase, then turned out the light and crawled into bed.

  So much for up-against-the-wall-sex.

  Why did she have to get the broken negligee?

  Turning her face, she laughed into her pillow because it beat crying. Idiot. She swallowed past her swollen throat. Leave it to her to scare the guy silly. Geez, he couldn’t get away fast enough. Hot tears filled her eyes and slid down her cheek without her permission. Dammit. She didn’t want to cry.

  It wasn’t as if he hadn’t found her attractive because, although Ben hadn’t said a word, a fierce hunger had blazed in his green eyes, turning them a delicious emerald. Her good parts were still tingling over that. Thank goodness he hadn’t been repulsed.

  Otherwise, yeah, she’d really be mortified.

  Right now, Lea lingered somewhere between embarrassed and humiliated. She hiccupped a laugh. The nightie wasn’t exactly broken. He found her attractive, just not enough to overlook their past.

  She rolled over and buried her head under the pillow. Now, if she could just pretend to be his girlfriend without seeing him for the next twenty-four hours…that would be great.

  How in the world was she going to face him now?

  The sound of the door opening and closing made it to her ears despite the pillow. Crap. She wasn’t ready. Not yet. The shuffle of boots on the hardwood floor signaled he’d drawn near. She could feel him watching her. The urge to burrow deep was strong, but she didn’t move. Not one muscle.

  “Lea, are you awake? We need to talk.”

  Yeah, she’d get right on that.

  “Come on.”

  The click of the lamp echoed in the silent room while light cast away the shadows she could see from the edges of her sanctuary.

  “I know you’re not sleeping.”

  “Yes, I am. Go away.”

  He didn’t, but the pillow did as he lifted it up and set it aside. “Can’t.” He knelt beside the bed to stare into her heated face. Compassion and remorse mixed to cloud his gaze and soften his tone. “I’m really sorry, Lea.”

  “For what?” She snorted. “Not wanting to have sex with me? It’s fine. Really. I just have to get through the mortification process. I’ll see you in about ten years.” She made to roll away, but a large, firm hand pressed into her shoulder and held her in place.

  “That’s not what happened.”

  “Really, Ben? Because it sure seemed like it from where I was standing—in a damn sexy negligee, I might add. With practically everything on display.” She fought hard to resist the urge to pull the sheet up over her head. “But you walked out uninterested.”

  “That’s not what happened,” he repeated, then released her, troubled gaze boring deep. “I walked out because I was interested, Lea. So damn interested I couldn’t see straight. Still can’t.”

  Her heart rocked hard in her chest, dislodging a startled gasp. “Really?”

  “Yes.” He straightened from the floor and sat on the edge of the bed. “You’re beautiful, Lea, and damn sexy. Don’t think for one minute it was easy to walk away from you, because I wanted nothing more than to
take you up against that damn wall.”

  She smacked his nearest shoulder. “Dammit, Ben. I wanted up-against-the-wall sex.”

  “Jesus.” He vaulted to his feet as if the mattress had caught fire, then stumbled toward the wall. “You can’t just say things like that. What are you trying to do, kill me?”

  “No, I’m trying to make sense of this.” She sat up and waved a hand between them. “If you’re attracted to me, and I’m attracted to you, what’s the problem?”

  “I watched you grow up,” he replied in a solemn tone. “You’re Brandi’s best friend.”

  “Who do you think sent the negligee?”

  His head snapped back. “What?”

  “Well, her and Jordan and the other bridesmaids.”

  “Thanks. Now I know whose necks to ring when I see them,” he stated, while leaning his long frame against the Victorian dresser.

  Her inner historian screamed in protest, but she refrained from warning him to be careful. At the moment, discussing her sex-appeal was a damn sight more important than the antique.

  She lifted her chin. “So…you really were turned on?”

  “Yes.”

  “But not enough to stay.”

  Expelling a breath, he walked back to sit on the bed and reached for her hand. “As great as the sex promises to be, you’re a good friend, Lea, and I don’t want to ruin that friendship with great sex. Would you?”

  Yes, please. Take me now! But because that sounded wanton in her mind, she swallowed the words and shook her head. “No.” He was right. She wouldn’t want any awkwardness between them.

  He dipped his head, a ghost of a smile tugging his lips. “So…we’re good?”

  No. She wanted him to want her as much as she wanted him. And because that barely made sense in her fogged up brain, she lied. “Yes.”

  As long as he only saw her as a friend, they’d never be okay.

  “Let’s get some sleep. Tomorrow’s going to be a long day,” he said, rising from the bed. “Breakfast is at O-eight hundred, followed by a full day of outdoor activities, including the lake. Thanks for that, by the way. Seems I’m supposed to row you around.”

  She smiled big. “Don’t mention it.” Bugger was going to row her twice around. He owed her at least that for walking out earlier.

 

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