Cowboy Payback

by Donna Michaels

“It’s beautiful in here, sir. Your staff must really care about you,” the corporal said as they entered the dimly lit dining hall, a small section partitioned off just for them and blanketed in more of those damn candles.

  How in the world was he going to keep things businesslike with the corporal dressed to kill and the room set for seduction?

  Clearing his throat, Brett nodded, then led her to the lone table in the middle of the room where Bugsby stood patiently waiting.

  The smiling chef had outdone himself. Adorned with a white tablecloth and red rose centerpiece, the table was the epitome of romance with another bottle of champagne chilling on ice while a Chris Young song played softly in the background.

  Under normal circumstances, he would’ve used the ambiance to his advantage, but not tonight. Not with Corporal Jennings. He needed to keep things platonic.

  Why?

  The stray question shot through his mind. She wasn’t one of his men anymore.

  Yes, she was and always would be. Now was not the time to get technical. She is one of your marines, therefore, you will treat her as such. He repeated the silent order several times in his head, and each time his libido calmed a little further.

  “Everything looks great, Bugsby,” he said as they reached the table, happy to regain the use of his tongue.

  The corporal nodded. “Yes, thank you. It’s beautiful in here.”

  “You are both quite welcome.” The chef beamed, then motioned toward her flowers. “Let me put them in water for you. I’ll be right back.” He disappeared into the kitchen with the flowers, leaving them alone.

  The beauty glanced sideways at him and smiled. “He sure is quick on his feet.”

  “Yep.” He held out her chair. “You should see him in the kitchen.” Brett waited until she was seated before he removed his hat, set it aside, and took his own seat.

  The corporal’s gaze ran over him, her appreciative gleam heating his insides.

  Platonic. We’re going to keep this strictly platonic.

  “I must say, you clean up nice, Captain.”

  He leaned closer and smiled. “Same goes for you, Corporal. It’s strange to see you out of uniform.”

  “Strange? But I haven’t been in uniform this whole trip.”

  He nodded. “True.”

  “So, I look strange in civilian attire?”

  “No, I mean, yes. But a nice strange,” he added quickly when the light started to fade from her eyes. “You look beautiful tonight.”

  “Thank you, sir,” she replied just as Bugsby appeared and replaced the rose centerpiece with her flowers.

  The chef’s eyebrow lifted, no doubt finding her endearment odd for a newly engaged couple, and Brett realized they were going to have to work on not being so formal.

  Starting now.

  He reached across the table to grab her hand and brought her fingers to his lips, that strange tingling rushing up his arm again. “You’re welcome, Trisha.”

  He kissed each finger until her cheeks turned a pretty shade of pink. Better. Now she appeared more the part of love-sick fiancée.

  Of course, now his gut buckled as if sucker punched thanks to her open, heated expression.

  “Dinner will be out momentarily,” the older man announced, but neither of them glanced at the chef.

  They were too busy staring at each other, and Brett was once again finding it increasingly hard to remain neutral where the corporal was concerned. She was potent. Damn potent. Her skin was soft, and as he continued to move his lips across her hand, he had the sudden urge to kiss every last delectable inch of her sinful body.

  That was not an impartial reaction, and definitely deviated from the plan.

  Thank God their salads arrived. This forced him to release the corporal and sit back in his chair. He was starting to think he was going to have to amend his plan.

  “So, did you get hold of Finn?”

  His brows rose at her unexpected question, then he smirked. Of course she knew he’d try. “Voicemail.”

  A soft snicker left her lips. “Convenient.”

  “I know.” He was about to say more when his phone began to ring. Pulling the cell out of his pocket, he noted his brother’s number on the screen. Perfect. Glancing at his fiancée, he smiled. “Here’s the dead man now. Excuse me a minute. Since we have an audience…” He paused to nod at the wait staff in the corner, observing them with smiles. “I’d better take this in my office. I’ll be right back.”

  “No problem.” A wicked grin curved her lips as he rose to his feet. “Give ’em hell, sir.”

  Mimicking her grin, he nodded, then twisted around and strode from the room, ringing phone gripped firmly in his hand. Once in the hall, he answered the call. “’Bout damn time.”

  Finn’s chuckle drifted to his ear as he reached the office and closed the door.

  “How’s engaged life treating you, little brother?”

  Brett scowled for several reasons, not the least of which was his twin’s enjoyment at referring to him as little because the doctor had pulled Finn’s ass out of the womb first.

  “How the hell do you think it’s treating me? And just exactly what were you thinking, Finn? Huh?”

  “That payback’s a bitch, bro.”

  More chuckling commenced on the other end of the phone. Brett began to pace, worn Justins carrying him across the Aztec-designed area rug. “Come on. I didn’t have Mrs. Laramie buy chocolate syrup, whipped cream, and condoms and shove them in a basket with a big red bow.”

  “No. You chose to shove the bow on your lieutenant instead.”

  Touché.

  Brett stopped pacing and sighed. His brother was right. Looking back on it now, he probably shouldn’t have done that to Cammie.

  He should’ve used a green bow. The color suited her better.

  “Besides,” the dead man continued. “It wasn’t Mrs. Laramie I asked.”

  It wasn’t?

  Brett’s heart dropped to his stomach. He knew his brother hadn’t done it. There hadn’t been time. “Jesus, Finn. Just who did you ask?”

  “Stacy.”

  Ah hell. “Our activity director?” No wonder she kept grinning at him during their meeting.

  “Of course.” His brother’s smug tone grated on Brett’s last nerve. “She’s used to making sure everyone has the supplies they need.”

  “You’re a jerk, you know that?”

  The jerk’s bark of laughter echoed through the phone. “I prefer to use the term resourceful. And you should thank me.”

  “Thank you? Why the hell should I thank you?”

  “I could’ve told her to grab you the small sized condoms.”

  Brett’s jaw cracked under his clenching teeth. Thank God for small favors. A slight smile released some of the tension. Had this been his joke, he most definitely would’ve gotten the size small.

  His brother had pulled off a doozie, and Brett usually gave credit when it was due. Like now. The gag was well-played, and sometime down the road, he was going to look back on all this and laugh. But not today. Hell no. Today he was good and pissed. And he had no idea why. He was on edge. And he didn’t like it. Not one damn bit.

  “Thank you for being so thoughtful,” he said through the side of his mouth.

  “Don’t mention it. I’m a thoughtful guy.”

  Brett snorted. “And humble.”

  “Absolutely,” Finn agreed. “So, what are you two going to do? Come clean? Or did you already?”

  “No.” He sighed, rubbing a hand over his head. “Her parents are stopping by in two weeks.”

  “Not if you tell them beforehand.”

  “True.” He nodded. “But I’ve been thinking.”

  “That’s dangerous.”

  He ignored his dead-meat brother and continued as if the guy hadn’t spoken. “I think we’ll remain engaged the whole summer.”

  “Well now, that’s interesting, bro. Okay, I’ll bite. Why?”

  “This last tour was tough
.” Just thinking about it tightened Brett’s chest, making it hard to breathe. “One of the schools we checked on weekly was bombed. More than half the students died.”

  “Christ.”

  “Yeah. The corporal was one of the favorites among the locals. She hasn’t said anything, but I can see it her eyes. It’s taken its toll. She needs time.”

  “Royal Pines is a great place to heal.”

  “Exactly, but I know if I bring it up, she won’t stay.” He’d gotten that message loud and clear in front of his cabin window yesterday. “Not for herself, anyway. But she will for me. I’m hoping she’ll stay until her classes start in the fall, and that she’ll open up, if not to me, then maybe to Cammie.”

  “So, how are you going to get her to stay?”

  Brett blew out a breath. “No idea.” Not entirely true. He already planned to ask her to help out around the ranch. She could handle several of the group activities, but he’d like to give her another reason. In his experience, it was always best to stack the deck if he wanted results.

  “You could always ask her to run blocker for your amorous clients. Monica and her group are due in next week.”

  Brett’s stomach automatically clenched at the mention of the pain-in-the-boot’s name. Pretty and petite, Monica was easy on the eyes, but her constant groping, and throwing herself at him left Brett cold. And no matter how gently or firmly he put her in her place, the woman always came at him.

  “And Clarissa’s annual trip is next month.”

  “Ah, hell. I was hoping I’d missed that one already.”

  “Nope. Sorry, bro. Your number one fan postponed her visit until she was sure you’d be around.”

  Great. He let out another curse and closed his eyes. That woman made Monica look like an amateur.

  “Maybe a fiancée is exactly what you need to keep your fan club at bay. I have no doubt your pretty redhead could handle them,” Finn said. “After all, she is a marine.”

  To say he was shocked didn’t even come close to explaining the stillness gripping Brett’s body. Never had he ever heard his brother make a statement like that without sarcasm coating every syllable. Finn had just praised the Corps.

  Brett was speechless.

  “You there, bro?”

  He cleared his throat and nodded as if his brother could see. “Yeah, just waiting for the punch line.”

  Finn laughed. “No punch line. I’m dead serious. My fiancée has opened my eyes wide to the merits of your branch of the service.”

  A smile completely claimed his lips. “Oorah.”

  “Indeed. So, what are you going to do?”

  “Ask Corporal Jennings to help me out around the ranch…and to run blocker with overly friendly female guests. That was a good idea. Thanks.”

  “No problem. I’m resourceful, remember?”

  He could hear the smile in his brother’s tone.

  “Yeah, and humble. I think we already established that.”

  “True. Just promise one thing?”

  “What?”

  “Don’t sleep with her.”

  “Hell, of course I’m not going to sleep with her.” Although, truth be told, he really wanted to sleep with the gorgeous redhead.

  Finn chuckled. “Liar. But seriously, bro. She’s sweet on you. You should’ve heard her singing your praises to my men at the engagement party a few weeks back. From what you’ve just told me, the woman has enough to deal with, don’t mess with her.”

  He knew his brother spoke the truth, and was right. But the fact the corporal was sweet on him only made Brett want her more. Christ. This was going to be tricky. But his brother needn’t know.

  “I’ll deal with my fiancée, you just take care of yours.”

  “Already did,” came the quick reply. “Why do you think I’ve been ignoring your calls?”

  “Ah, man.” He grimaced. “TMI, bro. Keep it to yourself.” His laughter mixed with Finn’s. “When are you two coming home?”

  “Not for several days. We just arrived at Coronado.”

  Sobering, he inhaled while his gut clenched. “So, you’re really going to go through with the physical to get back into the SEALs?”

  “Yes,” Finn replied. “Cammie is insisting I do.”

  Brett smiled, despite his misgivings. “Not surprised. She wouldn’t allow you to have any regrets. And she’ll also stick by you no matter what, so make sure you base your decision on what you want, Finn. Not what we all want for you. My lieutenant won’t stand for anything less.”

  “I know. I also know I’m one lucky bastard.”

  “So glad to hear you realize this.” He felt obligated to add, “Cammie is lucky, too. You’re both good for each other.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Since we’re in a touchy-feely mode, I suppose I should wish you good luck. I know you’ve worked real hard for this chance, bro. I’m proud of you.”

  And he was. Finn had busted his ass the past few years to regain the use of his right leg. Now, not only could his brother walk without a limp, he was about to discover if he was good enough to regain his military career.

  “Thanks.” A beat of silence passed. “Tell Mom we’ll see her in a few days. She thinks we headed down to the Gulf.”

  “Will do. Give it hell.”

  “Oorah,” his brother exclaimed before ending the call.

  Brett stared at the phone a few seconds, not used to Finn spouting marine lingo without contempt. It was weird, in a good way.

  He glanced at the clock on the wall. Shit. He’d been gone too long. Shoving the phone in his pocket, he rushed for the door. It was time to proposition his fiancée.

  ****

  Trisha’s gorgeous, fake fiancé lumbered into the room, apologetic expression creasing his handsome face. Finally. She’d been staring at the salads Bugsby had set before them. She was starving, but had politely waited for him.

  “Sorry I took so long,” he said, bending down to place a quick kiss on her cheek.

  Shock and awareness wrestled for top position, with awareness winning tenfold as a mass of goosebumps converged down her right side.

  “No problem,” she replied, flush heating her cheeks. “You’re back just in time.”

  Nodding, he retook his seat and picked up his fork. “I hadn’t meant to leave you alone so long.”

  And she hadn’t meant to have such a powerful reaction to the man’s touch. A smile tugged her lips. “It’s all right. I’m a big girl. I can take care of myself, sir.”

  His fork stilled, midway between his plate and his mouth, which split into a full-blown grin. “Of course you can.”

  Damn those goosebumps, anyway. They returned…with reinforcements.

  “So, what did you do while I was gone?”

  Reaching for her own fork, she used the time to quiet her pulse. Stupid pulse. “I had a lovely conversation with Bugsby and discovered he used to be head chef at a Dallas restaurant my dad frequents. Small world.” Her father often raved about the older chef’s food, and after having tasted Bugsby’s chicken last night, she understood the praise.

  “Yes, we’re lucky he wanted to be closer to his niece, Stacy. She’s our activity director,” he proclaimed. “They’re both big assets to our Royal Pines’ family.”

  She nodded and continued to eat her salad, waiting for the captain to switch subjects and boast about how he’d read his brother the riot act on the phone. But after a few minutes, and the appearance of the bottom of her plate, Trisha knew she had to ask if she wanted answers.

  When the server appeared to clear their salad dishes, she waited until they were alone before questioning the captain. He’d disappeared for more than ten minutes. The conversation had to have been a doozie.

  Anticipation shivered down her spine. She shifted in her seat, folded her hands on the table, and stared at the silent cowboy.

  Cowboy.

  It was still so weird to see her hardnosed captain in a Stetson. And yet, he looked good. Real good. Darn hi
m.

  He raised a brow. “What?”

  “Seriously?” Sometimes he was cute but clueless. She shook her head as she tapped the watch on her wrist. “You’ve been back a whole nine minutes and you haven’t said a word. I’m dying here, Captain. Come on. What happened with Finn?”

  “Oh, that.”

  He sat back in his seat, folded his arms across his muscled chest and smiled a thousand-watt smile, knocking the air from her lungs.

  “It went well.”

  Dear Lord she hoped he was going to elaborate. “And?” she prompted after a few more moments of silence.

  “And I chewed his ass out. He apologized and asked what we were going to do about your parents.”

  My parents…

  She sighed and slumped back in her chair. “I’ve been thinking about that.”

  And she had, thinking of nothing else while ridding his big bed and cabin of the hundreds of rose petals yesterday, and walking to and from his mother’s that afternoon. Trisha knew what she had to do.

  “I’m not going to wait until after my parents visit. I’ll call my dad in the morning and tell him the truth. Then I guess I’ll head out and look for somewhere to stay near campus until classes start next month.”

  “I wish you wouldn’t.”

  She hadn’t touched the champagne, and only sipped the water on the table. But without alcohol involved, how else could she explain hearing her C.O. saying he didn’t want her to leave?

  She was definitely hearing things.

  Blinking at him failed to clear up her misconception. And the lop-sided grin stretching those sexy, darn lips of his did not help. Although, watching that mouth had kicked up her pulse. He leaned forward as Bugsby appeared with their entrées, and whatever her commander had been about to say remained a secret.

  “Thank you,” she told the chef, then quickly cut into her blackened rib eye for a taste while the chef stood waiting to watch her reaction. Immediately clamoring a joyous salute, her taste buds rejoiced at the spicy mesquite flavors gracing her palate. “Oh, wow, Bugsby, this is delicious.” The steak practically melted in her mouth.

  Color tinged the older man’s face as he smiled broadly. “Thank you, Ms. Jennings,” he said, then turned to usher servers ahead of him into the kitchen, his steps light, and if possible—happy.