I squared my shoulders and spun around to face the newcomer. If anything, my face only grew hotter.
The most gorgeous man I’d ever laid eyes on stood in front of the counter. He wore a uniform – Navy SEALs – and memories of my father crashed home and washed away the present.
“Ma’am?”
I snapped focus back to him. Huge muscles, so tall he towered over me, and a handsome face. Not Justin Bieber handsome either – ew, I’ve never liked that pretty boy look. Dark eyes, matching hair, skin tanned from hours in the sun, and lines on his forehead.
He was probably thirty or something, way too old for me. Not that I had a chance – God, Paula really had gotten to me. And he had to be one of the soldiers from the base up in the mountains. Most of the town was in an uproar over it. They called it an eye sore, but I didn’t see the big deal.
These were men who served our country. If they needed a base up there, who were we to complain about it?
“I’ll come back later, ma’am,” the officer said.
“No, sorry! I- sorry, I didn’t expect anyone to come in this early,” I said, and glanced at the antique grandfather clock opposite. It was just past 8 am on a Saturday morning. Folks in Meek Springs usually hunkered down during the cold hours. “I didn’t mean anything by that cobweb thing. I –” No, no, shut up. Don’t talk about that to the super handsome soldier guy. Idiot, idiot!
The lieutenant hovered on the brink of marching off.
“Is there something I can help you with, Officer… uh?”
“Baker,” he said. “Ryan Baker. There’s no need to call me by my title, ma’am.”
“Okay, then there’s no need to call me ‘ma’am.’ Ha, it kind of makes me feel like I’m my mother.” And my mother was the last thing I wanted to be. She probably would have booted the soldier out of the store if she’d been here. Thankfully, she didn’t involve herself in the running of the place. Only the payments. “My name is Chanel Scott,” I said.
“Good to meet you, Miss Scott.” I could tell he was resisting the urge to call me ‘ma’am’ again. Soldier habits died hard, apparently.
“Just Chanel.” I spared him a sweet smile. “You’re from the base,” I said. I had no idea what it was called, but it was a secret base. “What do you guys do up there?”
“Pardon, ma’am?”
I let the formality slide that time. “Oh, you know, I just wondered. Nobody knows what you guys get up to in those mountains. Most of the town is really shifty about it, so I thought maybe you–”
“That’s classified information, ma’am,” he said, whip-crack loud.
I snapped my mouth shut. Okay, that was a bad idea. “Right,” I said. “So, what can I help you with Officer Baker?” I didn’t bother calling him by his full title, even though I could discern he was a Lieutenant Commander not an Officer. Let him feel the sting of that insult a little.
Gosh, since when had I been petty? Maybe, it was because any hopes of being swept off my feet by a handsome navy man had been dashed like the china vase I crunched over to get to the portfolio. I lifted the thick book and hugged it to my chest.
“I’m not sure you can, ma’am,” he said, and tucked his hands behind his back.
Well, that made sense. No wonder he’d come into my interior design store. “Let me hear what you need. Maybe I’ll surprise you.” Too much innuendo in that. I grew hot all over again.
Ryan Baker sniffed and took a single step forward. Measured, precise. I got the distinct impression he had to be in control at all times. Frown lines deepened on his forehead. “I’m having some trouble creating a comfortable atmosphere for the soldiers in the base.”
“Oh?”
“It’s cold and clinical at the moment. I’d like something that will put my men at ease after a long day of training,” he replied. “What do you suggest?” He glanced at the cushy sofa pressed against the wall, the coffee table in front of it.
Did he think he could buy it? Load it up on that navy Jeep out there and – I narrowed my eyes at the vehicle. There was another soldier inside, sitting there with his arms folded, glaring into my store.
“Uh –”
“I’d like several of these sofas,” he said. “And maybe some curtains. Do you have curtain rails and those hook things?”
“This isn’t a hardware store,” I said. “I don’t sell stuff like that. And I’m not a furniture retailer either.”
“Then what do you do?” he asked, gruffly.
I spread my arms. “Interior design. I evaluate homes and office spaces, then help clients come up with their desired design scheme. After that, I implement it by ordering the necessary fabrics, curtains, and furniture from retailers in the big cities across –”
“Thank you for your time,” Ryan said, and marched for the exit.
“Hey, wait a second.” I crunched over the broken vase and grimaced. “Lieutenant, wait!”
He froze with his palm pressed against the glass, looking back at me.
“If you let me evaluate the interior of the base I can help you.” He didn’t have another option in Meek Springs. I was the only store that specialized in that kind of thing around here. “I can make it a warm space for your men. Relaxing.”
“I don’t think so,” he said.
“Why?”
He didn’t turn. “It’s a top secret facility, ma’am. I’m not permitted to allow civilians on the premises.”
“But you can get a permit for that,” I said. “A contractor’s permit?” I’d been around my father enough to know the lingo and understood what was and wasn’t allowed.
Baker’s expression shifted ever-so-slightly, but that cold professionalism slammed home again, right away. “That won’t be possible, ma’am.”
“Listen, I know I can help you out here. I’m the only option available in this town, and I’m good at what I do. If you’re serious about making your base more comfortable for the men up there then you should be open to –”
“Enough,” he said.
I glared at him. Enough? “I’m not one of your soldiers. And if you think you’re making a good impression on the folks in Meek Springs you can think again,” I said. So what if he’d heard me talk about pussy cobwebs? So what if he was strapping and attractive and everything I’d ever imagined a man to be. Clearly, he had serious attitude problems.
“I didn’t mean to offend,” he said, stiffly.
I planted my fists on my hips, in a pose which mimicked my mother. “A lot of the people here don’t want that base on the mountain anymore. They want to sign some kind of petition and deliver it to their local representative.” Not that it would make a bit of difference. If the U.S. Government wanted that special base in the Rocky Mountains, it was there to stay. “You’d do well to bear that in mind the next time you come down here.” Gosh, what on earth had gotten into me? I was never this critical. Or this forward, for that matter.
“Ma’am, I came in search of a service. That’s all. You can’t provide the service I need.”
“So you decided to be rude?”
“No.”
“And you realize I can provide the service you need? I’m literally the service you need,” I said, and didn’t drop the pose. Heat burned behind my eyes, anger and passion, and good God why did I want to rip the man’s shirt right off?
Lieutenant Baker brought out a whole new side to me.
“I can’t have civilians on the base, ma’am.” He still hadn’t turned to face me full on. “I’d better head out before the storm hits. Thank you for your time, Chanel.”
My name on his lips equaled a shiver down my spine. He showed me his broad, muscled back and left the store. He trooped out to that Jeep and to the driver’s side, clunked open the door, and got in.
The other soldier said a few words but Ryan ignored him and started the engine. He roared off down the street, leaving a wake of exhaust fumes.
“Wow,” I said. “What was that about?” It couldn’t just be my interpreta
tion – the lieutenant had been more than a little upset about my suggestion. He’d been professional and then downright cold.
I didn’t have much experience with men, one boyfriend, yikes, but I’d never been thoroughly rejected or ignored. Not that I was interested in Baker like that. We’d just met and he was rude, and obnoxious, and thoroughly magnetic.
I sighed and traipsed to the office door, opened it then fetched the dustpan from the supply closet inside.
Curiosity danced through my mind. What kind of base was that? What did they have to hide from the public? I marched back into the store and swept up the china, spared a thought for the loss of its beauty.
“Ugh,” I said. “Great start to the day.”
Chapter 2
Ryan
The truck rattled down the road and toward the gated exit which let out onto the route to the base. I grasped the wheel, knuckles white and jaw set.
“You okay, Sir?” Jack asked.
The ‘Sir’ was out of habit. Jack and I had known each other for years. We’d been in training together, though he lagged behind in rank. Fuck, I’d have given anything to trade positions with him. Downgrading a rank would’ve suited me just fine if I could’ve stayed out of Iraq.
“Baker,” Jack said.
I sniffed. “I’m fine, Whitmore,” I replied, and snapped my mouth shut. Hopefully, that would be the end of it.
We trundled up to the exit and a soldier in fatigues waved us down, clipboard in hand.
“Shit, what now?” Jack muttered.
I wound down the window and the soldier halted beside my door and gave a cursory salute. “Afternoon, Sir. I’m afraid the road is closed this afternoon.”
“What’s that?” I asked, and massaged my forehead. “Why would it be closed, Officer Wilkes?”
“Sir, it’s orders from the base. There’s a cold front coming in. No one is coming out or going in until it passes.”
“And when will that be?” My frustration grew. I’d already failed at collecting the necessary items to make life better for my men. I didn’t need a night in town with civilians to mull over the failure.
“The weather guys say tomorrow, Sir. That’s my best estimate,” Wilkes replied.
I tugged on my tongue with my teeth. No use getting frustrated with him. He had a job to do and this was it – maintaining safe entrance and exit for soldiers, and ensuring none of the townies entered the perimeter.
“Sir?” Wilkes prompted.
“Yes, thank you, Officer,” I replied. “We’ll be back tomorrow. You all right out here? Need anything?”
“I’m fine, thank you, Sir.” Wilkes saluted again, then sprinted back to his post inside the concrete sentry house beside the gates. He spared a glance for the sky, and the gathering clouds I hadn’t noticed up until now.
“Shit,” I muttered, and started the engine. I usually didn’t swear in front of my men, but Jack was the exception. Apart from our separation – I’d left for Iraq and he’d been on assignment at home – we’d been through most everything together. I could trust him not to run back to our superiors with tales.
I directed the truck back onto the road and made for town. The first fat drops of rain struck the windshield and I clicked on the wipers. Thunder rolled, and lightning streaked across the sky, illuminating the falling darkness.
“You’ve changed,” Jack said.
“What?”
“You’ve changed. I don’t think we’ve talked about it,” he continued. Jack had always worn his heart on his sleeve. He thought talking about emotional shit was appropriate. I begged to differ. Some things were better left unsaid. Undiscussed.
“We’ll stop at the motel in Meek Springs,” I said. “I’ll put a call in to base and check that everything’s operating smoothly.”
“That’s not even a good attempt at a subject change,” Whitmore said. “Things are awkward between us. Shit, Ryan, you even look different.”
He hadn’t called me by my first name in years. “What is this, a date? Keep quiet, Petty Officer.”
Jack grunted as if I’d struck him and a smidgeon of guilt cracked my cold façade. I directed the truck down the main road and scanned the buildings on either side. I’d never made note of the motel’s location – I’d never needed to.
“Look for a vacancy sign,” I said, curt as a door snapped shut, and continued my own search.
Civilians rushed for their cars, women and children, men in overalls. One lady tried opening an umbrella only to have it blown from her grasp. She shrieked and darted after it.
My thoughts skipped to the woman I met in the store. Chanel. A beautiful name which matched her face, her body – I cut that off short. No chance I’d ever meet up with her again, and that was a good thing.
I couldn’t afford distractions. They’d already cost me too much. They’d cost me lives.
“There,” Whitmore said, and thumbed his window. “Next to the bar.”
I pulled up in front of the place, then got out of the truck. Whitmore followed my lead and we traipsed through the rain, that was quickly turning to sleet, and into the interior of the Meek Springs Motel.
“Good afternoon.” The elderly woman behind the desk shifted her glasses up the bridge of her nose. “How many I help you gentlemen?”
“Ma’am, we’re seeking board for the evening. Do you have any available rooms?” I asked.
“Why, yes, Officer, I do,” she said. She shuffled out of her seat, then moved to a wooden pegboard on the wall opposite. She shifted two keys off the hooks, then handed them over. “Here you go. We don’t serve dinner, unfortunately, but the bar next door has a pizza night this evening. Most of the town’s residents will be there.”
I could think of nothing I’d enjoy less. I was never big on crowds, and that got worse after my stint in Iraq. Crowds equaled danger. They meant the possibility of death or ambush.
“Thank you, ma’am,” I said.
“Storm’s brewing,” the woman replied. “You soldiers keep safe, now, hear?” She offered up a querulous smile, then moved back to her chair. “Rooms are on the first floor. Numbers 101 and 103. Let me know if you need anything else.”
This was a far cry from the reception I’d expected. The rumors which had leaked through the base, much to my chagrin, had all indicated a negative attitude toward the soldiers. Folks in the town had started a gossip chain about the base. They believed we performed unnatural experiments up in the Rocky Mountains. Ridiculous.
“Thanks,” Jack said.
We made for the door in the corner.
“No funny business neither,” the woman said.
I halted at the door, the key to room 103 biting into my palm. “Excuse me, ma’am?”
“No funny business in the rooms. I know what your type are like. Handsome soldiers. I met a few in my day.” She winked, then picked up a magazine and hid herself behind it.
Five minutes later, I was in a motel room with a view of the town. It was picturesque, set against the back drop of the Rocky Mountains, clouds rolling overhead, and sleet pounding the cars parked out on the road. The streets had cleared.
“Knock, knock,” Jack said, behind me.
I flinched. Shit, had I lost my touch? I was so involved in the view I didn’t heard his approach.
“What a shithole, am I right?” Jack asked, and entered my room.
I turned on him. “You’d do well to change that attitude, Whitmore. These folks won’t take kindly to hearing that from you. The opinion of the base is already low.”
“Didn’t seem that bad,” Jack said. “The old lady downstairs was friendly enough. Oh yeah, and that hot chick in the interior design store.”
An ice stone dropped in my stomach.
“She was nice, wasn’t she? Couldn’t take her eyes off you.”
Blow the cobwebs off my pussy. The words came right out of her mouth as I entered the store, and they nearly floored me. It’d been so long since I’d encountered an attractive woman, and a
ny thoughts of ‘pussy’ were out of the question.
She gave me an instant boner. Luckily, I had a second to bring my fantasies under control.
“You’re not going to agree with me?” Jack asked. “She was hot as fuck, right? Nice piece of ass. I wouldn’t mind dipping into that, myself. In fact, maybe when I’ve got a few hours away from base, I’ll –”
“Stop.”
Jack flashed a sharp grin. “What’s wrong, Ryan? You don’t like the thought of me with her? I’d treat her real nice too.”
“That’s inappropriate, Whitmore.” I sighed and knuckled my forehead. It was as if he wanted to see how far he could push me before I snapped.
“Dude,” Jack said, “who are you? What happened to you? You were never Don fucking Juan, but you didn’t back away from women in the past.”
“We’re in uniform and I’ve got a base to look after.”
“Whatever,” Jack said. “You’ve changed.”
I gritted my teeth. Hadn’t I made myself clear about this?
“You’ve got to talk to someone about it.” His tone softened. “If you keep that shit bottled up inside, you’ll end up exploding and then you’ll really regret it.”
“Thanks for the psychoanalysis, Whitmore,” I replied, and turned back to the view, only so I wouldn’t have to meet his gaze.
“We were buds,” Jack said. “Fuck it, man, I wish I’d been deployed with you so that –”
“If you’d been deployed with me, you’d be dead,” I snapped. Dead like all the other men who were under my command. Dead in the desert. Dead with sand clogging his nostrils and filling his ears. I clenched my fists.
“You couldn’t have predicted the ambush,” Jack said. “You’re being too hard on yourself, Ryan. Even your superiors didn’t blame you for it. Why else would they have given you a Purple Heart?”
“Just stop.”
But he didn’t stop. He wouldn’t, and it made me crazy inside. It brought back flashes of memory. Gunfire popping off, the whizz of bullets over our heads, the truck leading the convoy exploding. Ears ringing.
“You carried him for miles,” Jack said. “How can you –?”
Protecting Her Heart Page 43
