She grabbed a spray bottle and misted some conditioner on her hair. She dared not brush it or she’d resemble a lion.
And she’d need to either change out of her T-shirt or put on a bra.
Or perhaps both.
She crossed the hallway to her bedroom and pulled out a slightly less worn T-shirt and the most comfortable bra she owned.
It would be warm outside because it was June. At least it had been the last time she checked.
She kicked off her sweats and pulled on a pair of cutoff shorts. They fit loosely and extended all the way to her knees. Like her grandma used to wear.
But they were comfortable. Safe. She wasn’t out to impress anyone.
Stepping into a pair of flip-flops, she figured she was dressed appropriately enough for the grocery store. It was the middle of the day; hopefully, most normal people were at work.
Luckily, nobody in town knew her.
That was why she’d left Denver.
If she could make herself invisible, she probably would.
Descending the stairs, she huffed into her hand. Had she brushed her teeth after coffee today? Maybe. Did it matter?
This is only a trip to the store, for Pete’s sake.
She grabbed the reusable cloth bags she’d purchased so that she wouldn’t have to use the store’s plastic ones – doing her part to save the environment – and smelled her pits.
She would be fine. This was why she’d moved here, after all. Complete and utter anonymity.
The sunlight caused her eyes to water, blinding her momentarily. She rummaged through her purse until locating the key at the bottom. Sure, Pine Springs was a small town, but old habits died hard. It only made sense to lock the dead bolt. The boards on the porch creaked. She was going to have to get them fixed someday. Maybe next year.
Her eyes continued to water. Damned if she hadn’t spent too much time indoors. At least she wasn’t wearing makeup; it would be all over her face by now.
Casting her gaze downward, she headed toward the street but didn’t make it two steps before crashing into a wall of steel. What the heck? Her small frame literally bounced off the man blocking her way.
Hello. His masculinity – his overwhelming maleness – stole her breath.
It was him.
He flinched, rubbing his shoulder with his free hand.
His other hand, pinned against his chest with the bandage, loosely clasped a measuring cup.
“Oh, um, sorry.” She mumbled hesitantly. Her first thought was that her new “hobby” had been discovered. What did a person say in such a situation? Would he call the cops? This could get mortifying quickly.
Except for the measuring cup.
Hopefully, she would not be forced to sell her home and flee Pine Springs in shame.
“My fault.” Even his voice sounded sexy. Just two words and her mouth went dry. He looked pale beneath his splendid tan, but this close, my goodness! What did a person say to such an attractive package of testosterone?
Roaring filled her ears, and with fingers that had suddenly gone numb, she dropped her keys. Bent over, she made three swipes to grab them before returning to an upright position.
But it was his eyes that threw the knockout punch. Nothing less than magical, they reminded her of one of Colorado’s lakes on a sunny day. As though he was laughing at her, they twinkled.
And he’d shaved.
Without the beard, she got a better look at his features. Young but hard, chiseled, with just enough humor to not be too intimidating. Nose a little crooked, as though it had been broken a time or two, and his short brown hair was just beginning to grow out from a buzz cut.
She wanted to touch it.
Stop this, Penny! For God’s sake, she was at least ten years older than him. And dressed only slightly better than a homeless person.
Still, this didn’t stop her lady parts from pulsing.
“I don’t have any kids for you to play with, if that’s why you came over.” Now why did she go and say something so stupid?
He laughed. Oh, good, he thought she was joking.
She only wished she didn’t feel so very, well, ancient.
“Nah. My mom sent me to ask if you had any milk. She’s baking a cake and, well, since I’d told her I needed to get out.” He gestured to the bandage, visible beneath his T-shirt.
“Milk?” She’d been lactose intolerant for most of her adult life. “Would dehydrated creamer work?”
Again, the laugh. A deep chuckle that reached into her stomach and stirred up all kinds of insanity. “You haven’t met my mom, have you? She says you’re new in town. I was sad to learn that Mr. Baxter passed away. He lived here forever.”
Mr. Baxter? Oh, the previous owner.
Following the context of this conversation had become nearly impossible. Her estrogen levels distracting her with a curiously uncommon happy dance.
Besides that, days had passed since she’d last conversed with another adult in person.
Let alone a masculine god.
“How long were you away?” Did this question reveal too much about what she knew of him? Well, no, she easily could have watched him pull up in a taxi, with a suitcase or something. She didn’t have to let on that she’d watched him undress the first day he’d arrived.
“Two years.” He rubbed his shoulder absentmindedly.
“Did you get shot?” She’d been wondering for some time now.
But he shook his head. “I wish.”
What did he mean by that? At her questioning look, he explained further. “Shrapnel.” By now, he was leaning heavily against the post holding her porch roof up.
“Are you in pain?” He did look pale. Albeit devastatingly handsome.
He gave her something of a half-smile. Aside from that tiny crook in his nose, which was adorable, Penny found the way one side of his mouth tugged up to be the only other imperfect thing she’d noticed about him.
It was incredibly endearing.
“Yeah, but dying of boredom.” Just then, his gaze dropped to her hands where she jiggled her keys nervously.
“You’re not heading to the store, by chance, are you?”
Oh, right! The store! “You want me to get some milk for your mom?” She wasn’t used to helping her neighbors.
“How about I come along?” That half smile again. Oh, but he was sweet. Her fingers itched to touch his biceps.
Instead, she hitched her purse higher and nodded. “Sure, no problem.”
A little extra deodorant would not have been amiss.
Or a shower even. Today’s surprise meeting would teach her to go out of the house like this.
Like it mattered to him. Like he even realized she was female.
Penny was old – and worse than that – she felt old.
She pressed the unlock button on her key ring, and at the curb in front of her house, the lights on her Sentra flashed. Hell, even her car was responsible and grown up.
“What do you drive? When you can?” she added. She barely stopped herself from making a joke about him being too young to drive.
“I have an old jeep. It’s back in Colorado Springs. A little rough, but she gets me where I need to go… usually.” There was that half smile again. “Didn’t make sense to buy something newer when I knew I’d be deployed.”
“Huh.” Penny grunted.
Practical and pretty.
CHAPTER TWO
Old Enough
Chaz was used to girls fawning all over him. Girls who hung around the base wanting to land a pilot. And then there had been the nurses…
The absence of any flirty overtures made this neighbor lady intriguing. Not that she wasn’t already. Intriguing, that was.
She was hot. In a different way than he was used to.
No makeup, no glossy hairdo, or skimpy clothing. In fact, her clothes kind of just hung on her. She wore an old T-shirt from a 5K race and some cut-off jean shorts that weren’t nearly short enough…but there was something about her…
/> Absolute ignorance as to the sexual vibes she was putting out. She could ignore it all she wanted but she wasn’t fooling him. Not that she was horny, necessarily. But like she’d been lost in a sexless vacuum for years.
Yeah, she did something for him.
“What’s your name?” He’d wondered for a while now.
“Penny. You?” She eyed him across the roof of her car. “Do you need me to get the door?”
He was now holding the measuring cup in his good hand. He transferred it to his other hand again and opened the door with his left. “I got it. Chaz.”
And then she laughed.
“What?”
But then she shook her head. “Nice to meet you… Chaz. Is that your real name or is it short for something else?”
“Short for Charles Ezekiel.” He climbed into the passenger seat carefully. Damn, his shoulder was throbbing again. Once seated, he reached across himself to close the door but lacked the flexibility to grab ahold of it.
God damnit!
But then she was leaning across him. “I’ve got it.”
Soft curves squashed against his chest and arms. His bad shoulder nearly had him crying out in pain but everything else enjoyed the sensations her endeavor evoked.
She didn’t smell like flowery perfume or berry lotion that most girls wore. She smelled warm and sweet, uniquely woman.
He placed his left hand along the back of her seat, freeing up some space for her to reach the door. She twisted and leaned across him further and he couldn’t help but let his hand fall to her lower back. Her shirt had ridden up so his hand rested on silky skin, just above her shorts.
Without thinking, he inched it downward, inside the waistband…
She jolted backward into her seat, hazel eyes wide open. He wasn’t sure if this was from exasperation or outrage.
“I’m gonna have to get it from outside.”
Flushed and a little out of breath, she looked everywhere but at him.
After fumbling with her own door handle a few seconds, she jumped out of the car, ran around it, and without warning, slammed his door shut.
When she climbed back in and reached for her seatbelt, she was even more flustered than she’d been before.
There was no way Chaz could reach the safety strap hanging above and behind his right shoulder. She glanced at him as though waiting for him to do up his seat belt and then paused. Did he deserve to be safely strapped into the vehicle? He could almost see her thoughts churning as she contemplated the steering wheel.
She unstrapped herself and reached across him again. “I don’t want a ticket.” She half grunted, half spoke the words.
Chaz lifted his left hand again so that it was partially around her. He wondered if she’d kick him out of the vehicle if she realized how much this was turning him on.
As she bent over and across him, this time he let his hand land on the sweet curve of her denim-clad ass.
And leaned his face into her throat. The skin there tempted him.
She froze, half lying over his lap. “Where the heck is it?” She was fumbling around with something at the other side of his seat.
Chaz lowered his hand to the back of her thigh.
Those shorts were definitely not short enough. If they’d been a little shorter, he could have slipped his fingers under the leg and… She flinched and flew off him.
“Got it.” She fell back into her seat and pulled the belt around him.
More fumbling at his side, and he was safely ensconced in her car.
He grinned. He wanted to make some sort of comment about being strapped up by a woman but thought better of it.
She already seemed a little freaked out.
With the touch of a button, the car purred to life. “Fancy,” he commented. She may have been a little freaked out but she was also as turned on as he was.
Even thru her bra, he could see the change in her breasts.
A tiny bead of sweat dripped down the side of her face.
“How old are you?” she asked out of nowhere. A little breathy.
“Old enough.” He didn’t think about age anymore. He was twenty-seven but seeing so many people die over the last five years had made him realize how inconsequential something like age was.
All that mattered was today. Now.
She looked at him and rolled her eyes. “What branch are you in?”
“Navy,” he responded automatically. But then added, “Was. I was in the navy.” That part made him feel a little sick.
“You aren’t going back?” Her question hammered him.
“Honestly, I have no idea. Too many concussions. They don’t like pilots who could black out in the cockpit.”
She stopped for one of only three traffic lights in town. “That sucks. So, this wasn’t your first injury?”
“It was but when I was in the hospital, they pulled my medical record. In addition to the head injury I got from the explosion, they discovered all the fucking concussions I’d got playing football.”
“Oh.” She switched the blinker on and pulled into the City Market parking lot. “Yeah, that pretty much sucks.”
He liked that. He liked that she didn’t try to console him by listing all the other things he could do with his life. Or that he should be grateful to be alive. He’d spent his entire life wanting to be a pilot, God damnit!
Chaz swallowed hard. He hated thinking about not flying again. Let alone talking about it.
She parked, cut the engine, and then didn’t move. She just stared at the steering wheel. “You think you have your whole life figured out, and somehow it just falls apart.”
He watched her profile. Here was a woman with a past. And then she blinked a few times and twisted her lips into something that was probably supposed to be a smile. A little robot-like, she turned and unclasped both their seatbelts. “Don’t move, I’ll come around.”
A few seconds later, she pulled the door open and then reached in to help him out.
“I hate this,” he mumbled. Except he didn’t hate her touching him. He hated that he was injured. He hated that he’d had to come and stay at his parents’ house. It made him feel so fucking helpless.
“You okay?” She steadied him as he stood up. “You don’t think walking around the store might be too much?”
Chaz shook his head. Fuck! He felt lightheaded and stupidly weak. Next thing he knew, he’d be bursting into tears.
“I’m fine.” But his voice sounded gruff.
He forced himself to stand up straight and take long strides into the store. She grabbed a basket that had been abandoned outside and glanced sideways at him. “You sure you’re up to this? You can wait in the car if you want. I’ll get the milk.”
The idea sounded good in theory. But he liked being around her. He’d pushed himself through worse than this. “I’m good.” Placing his left hand on her back, he steered her through the door.
She shivered.
He liked walking behind her, guiding her with his hand. He also would have liked to bend her over the shopping cart and press up behind her.
“What’s on your list?” he asked near her ear. “Other than milk.”
She shivered again. The testosterone in him picked up every signal she sent out.
It was obvious.
She needed to get laid. Preferably by him.
She paused as though suddenly confused about where she was, about where she was going.
Chaz took one step closer. His left hand slid around her waistband and landed on her stomach.
“Um, Chaz.” She dropped her hand over his and pushed it away. “You’re a really sweet kid, and all that, really cute.” She pushed the cart forward, forcing some distance between the two of them. “But I am way too old for you.”
He caught up easily.
“How old is too old?” he probed. This wasn’t anywhere near a problem for him.
“Thirty-six. Ancient. How old are you? Twenty-one? Twenty-two?”
“Hah,
twenty-seven, nearly thirty.” She turned and headed toward the frozen foods.
He followed, allowing her a little space this time. He nearly chuckled at himself. The last time he’d rounded up his age to sound older he’d been fifteen.
“A decade. An entire decade.” She stopped in front of the Lean Cuisine and Weight Watchers dinners. Opening the freezer door, she reached in and picked out two lasagna dinners, two spaghetti dinners, and two chicken fettuccine and tossed them all in the basket.
Chaz flinched at the thought of all the preservatives she was going to consume.
“You on a diet or something?”
She counted the meals in her basket and let the door slam shut on the freezer case. “I don’t cook.” She shrugged.
The next aisle she led him to was the one for sodas and sugary drinks. He was relieved when she proceeded to load the cart up with bottles of Perrier.
“A decade is nothing. In the grand scheme of things.”
Then she picked out coffee and artificially flavored creamer.
“I’m also cynical and divorced.”
And a box of donuts.
“You’re a strange woman, Penny.” He carried the half gallon of milk for his mom up to the register before realizing he didn’t have his wallet on him.
She looked at him, though, and guessed. Grabbing the carton from him, she sat it on the conveyor belt and pulled her own wallet out.
“Not strange, realistic.”
He could argue with her. He could tell her about the lives he’d been unable to save, lives of innocent kids who’d witnessed an eternity of hell.
Death was a deal breaker. All bets were off.
A decade. A divorce. They meant nothing.
He’d simply have to convince her.
CHAPTER THREE
Absolutely Perfect
Chaz.
Oh, my god, even his name is too young for me! Except that he wasn’t as young as she’d thought… if he was telling the truth.
He was sweet.
And oh, my God! He was so sexy!
At first, she’d thought it had been an accident. His touching her when she leaned over him in the car. She’d been worrying that her pit check hadn’t been sufficient enough and then she’d felt his hand on her back… and then… lower.
The Mile High Madness Page 43
