by Box Set
“Hello, Princess Leia.”
She whipped around at the sound of Derek’s voice, and pinpricks of awareness went rushing down her limbs. It had only been a few hours since she’d last seen him, yet her heart squeezed and her insides melted. If anything, her reaction to him had become more intense. That was probably a bad sign, but she ignored the thought.
He held up a hand. “No, wait. General Organa.”
“That’s right. No cinnamon buns here.” She gave him a jaunty smile and patted her hair. “I’m still in mourning for Carrie Fisher, but I’ve cosplayed as Leia at every con I’ve ever been to, and it felt wrong not to kept that up. Long live Leia.”
“Leia looks good on you.” He mock-leered. “Cinnamon buns or no cinnamon buns.”
“Thanks.” She wrinkled her nose, trying not to flush at the compliment. So she straightened her shoulders and tried for her most imperious stare. “When one upgrades from mere princess to commander of the entire rebellion, one needs serious hair. How else will everyone know that you intend to put the smackdown on some punk stormtroopers? It’s all about the ‘do.”
Amusement sparked in his gaze for a moment, but then he sobered. “You should be this sassy outside of cosplaying, you know.”
Shooting a glance toward the neighboring booth, she shrugged, “Michelle says the same thing.”
One eyebrow arched. “I’m almost scared to agree with her.”
“I don’t think you agreeing or disagreeing has any impact on her intention to use you as inspiration for her fan fiction.”
He reached over and tapped a fingertip against her nose. “If she does, I don’t want to know about it.”
“I promise to keep it to myself.” She set a hand over her heart, widening her eyes innocently. “But I can’t promise not to read it…and enjoy it thoroughly.”
He lowered his voice. “Since, unlike your friend, you actually know what I look like naked?”
There was no holding back the flush that burned up her cheeks. She lifted her chin and met his eyes. “Yes, exactly.”
He crooked a finger under her chin, and for a split-second, she thought he might kiss her. His gaze focused on her mouth. “Care to join me for my lunch break?”
Swallowing, she shook herself back to reality. “Let me ask my friends if they can watch my booth.”
“We can,” Michelle sang out. When Katie looked over, she found her friend grinning like a lunatic. “We’ll take some coffee from Sevda as payment.”
“Done.” Katie grabbed her purse and slipped out into the aisle, falling into step beside Derek as they headed for the food trucks. “I think I’m going to get cross-examined when I go back. She’s like a shark that smells blood in the water when it comes to anything sexual.”
“Who you tell about this is your business.” He slung an arm around her waist and pulled her close, so their shoulders and hips bumped as they walked. “It’s hardly some deep, dark secret.”
Something inside her relaxed at his words. She hated to admit, even to herself, that she’d carried a tiny, ugly suspicion that he’d want their affair kept quiet. She wasn’t exactly in his normal class of women. But, if he was the type of jerk to think like that, he probably wouldn’t have been so appealing. At least she hoped she’d have seen through that. She managed a dry tone, “That’s good, because I was thinking about taking out a billboard ad to announce it. ‘Shy girls gets some from hot SEAL.’ I think it has a nice ring to it, don’t you?”
He snorted. “You weren’t shy last night, sugar.”
Yeah, she wasn’t touching that one. Time for a topic change. “So…you went with a Mad Max look today. I like it, but I thought you were dressing as Stacker Pentecost.” She slipped her arm around his waist, which felt good, but weird with newness.
A little grunt escaped him. “After the slash conversation, I’m going to let that costume sit until the end.”
She laughed. “Afraid Michelle will ogle you?”
He made a face. “There’s not even a doubt in my mind.”
“Well, you’re pretty ogle-worthy.” She pursed her lips and dared a quick pat on his firm backside.
“So are you.” The look he gave her was enough to make her insides melt. Dear God, the man was lethal. A single glance, and she was putty in his hands.
She blushed, glanced away, and cleared her throat. “Mad Max isn’t going to spare you. Michelle is a firm believer in Rule 34.”
“Yeah, that term I know. Unlike slash.”
“Oh, really?”
One broad shoulder dipped in a shrug. “I’m a guy. If there’s an internet rule that says, ‘If it exists, there is porn of it,’ I’m going to have heard of it.”
“Fair enough.” She tilted her head. “So, Michelle would point out that there’s filth of all kinds for everything under the sun. Mad Max included.”
“Outstanding,” he drawled.
As they stepped outside to the courtyard lined with food trucks, she saw a few uniformed guards patrolling the area. “Are you allowed to fraternize with me while you’re working?”
He tightened his arm around her and drew her forward. “I’m just a regular cosplaying convention goer, sweetheart.”
“Right.” She rolled her eyes. “I don’t think the word regular has ever been applied to you by someone who meant it.”
“I’m flattered.”
“You’re welcome.”
He gestured with his free hand. “Where should we eat?”
“It depends on what you want. There are two excellent food trucks and one pretty good one. The rest are bleh. Though even the bleh ones are far better options than the concession stands inside. Those are gross.”
“Which options are the best?”
“The Mediterranean, sandwich, and burrito places are the best.” She pointed as she spoke. “The crepe guy is definitely decent. Don’t order coffee from the coffee cart. It tastes like burnt tar mixed with battery acid. There’s not enough cream or sugar in the world to save it.”
He chuckled. “Noted. Where’s the best coffee?”
“The Mediterranean place, no question.” She stepped in the direction of that truck, mindful of her promise to Michelle. “Distant second is the crepe vendor, which is still good, don’t get me wrong.”
He caught her hand and interlaced their fingers. “I take it the Turkish place is owned by Sevda?”
“Yup. Sevda and her husband, Muhammad. They’re good people. We’re vendors at a lot of the same events in the area, so I run into them pretty often.”
“Lead on, then. I’m in need of caffeine.”
They joined the line in front of the food truck, while Katie became hyperaware of the way Derek held her hand. The pad his thumb swept slow circles around her palm, and she couldn’t stop a shiver. She’d never realized quite how sensitive that area was. Having him so near, touching her, just reminded her how good last night had been. How much she still wanted him. Her skin tingled where he stroked, spreading sweet heat through her body. There was nothing overtly sexual about what he was doing, but her nipples peaked tightly. She let out a shaky breath, suddenly grateful the General Organa costume included a vest.
He leaned over and murmured in her ear. “Are you turned on?”
Normally, getting called out on something like that would make her want to curl into a ball. But she was a general today, right? Not just the shy girl next door. She shot him a glance from the corner of her eyes. “Keep it up and I might jump you right here, and then you can explain to your boss why you made a scene and definitely did not blend into the crowd.”
A whoop of laughter escaped him, but they’d reached the front of the line, so he didn’t reply to her threat.
Sevda glanced between Katie and Derek, her gaze lingering on their entwined fingers. Thankfully, she ignored that and offered a warm smile. “Katie! I love your costume. The ring is just right.”
Holding out her free hand to admire, Katie grinned. “I took movie stills of The Force Awakens to
get the look right.”
“My daughter would love it. She’s a huge Star Wars fan. She watched Rogue One in the theater at least ten times.”
Katie slid the ring off and set it on the narrow counter between them. “Happy birthday to her. If I remember correctly, she and I have the same size fingers.”
The other woman’s eyes rounded. “Oh, I couldn’t poss—”
“I’ll trade you for lunch for my friend and me, plus coffee for Michelle and Larry,” Katie cajoled. The metal and stones alone were worth more than that, let alone her work, but if it made her friend feel better about the gift, then that was fine with her.
“Done.” The ring disappeared into Sevda’s pocket. “What would you like?”
“The lunch special,” Katie and Derek said at the same time. He added, “And coffee, please.”
Katie nodded. “Me, too. Plus a piece of baklava for both of us.”
They had their order within a few minutes. Sevda waved them toward the picnic benches set up nearby. “Come by for Larry and Michelle’s coffee on your way back. I don’t want it to get cold.”
Derek and Katie found empty spaces at one of the tables and sat next to each other. “Thanks for lunch. I owe you one.”
“You can buy me baklava any time.” She bit into the flaky morsel of heaven, not caring in the least that she was eating her dessert first. She closed her eyes to savor the sweet perfection.
“The look on your face when you come is pretty similar to the one you’re wearing now,” he noted, pitching his voice low so no one overheard. He took a deep drag from his paper cup. “God, that’s good.”
Ignoring his comment about her post-coital expression, she chased her dessert with a swig of coffee. “It’s the best. I’m pretty sure Sevda puts crack in it.”
He opened his Styrofoam lunch container. “I won’t tell my family members in the police department. Some drug dealers deserve to remain at large.”
Considering that for a moment, she dug into her own food. “There’d be riots in the streets if caffeine was ever labeled an illegal substance. I know I’d be out protesting.”
“In a superheroine costume?”
She huffed out a laugh. “Probably.”
“Do you need the costume?” Twisting at the waist, he gave her a direct look. “I’d like to see this Katie more often, and not just because she’s cosplaying.”
The intensity of his gaze made her feel stripped bare and even more vulnerable than she had when he’d actually seen her naked. “The costumes let me be…what I’m not. Bold, outspoken, maybe a little daring.”
He shook his head. “It’s all you. Costume or no costume.”
“Maybe.” She glanced away, feeling stupid and small, her shyness wanting to tangle her tongue around justifications that kept her safe from an often-harsh world. Which felt cowardly to think, let alone say. “It’s a lot easier to be bold when I’m dressed as a take-no-prisoners galactic princess.”
“You’ve managed to be bold with me the last couple of days, and there was no costume last night. Just you, me, and a nice big bed. Actually, a couch and then a bed.” His eyes took on a wicked glint. “It was hard to get more than a few words out of you before yesterday.”
She took a drink to hide her face. “True. Somehow it feels easy to be bold with you.”
If anything, his gaze sharpened. “Why with me and not other people?”
Her heart stuttered, and then began to race. How could she answer that question without seeming like some kind of stalker who’d been watching him for a year? She kept her explanation as simple as possible. “I like you. I liked you before this week.”
“Likewise.”
She cast him a doubtful look. “You said that last night, but you never showed it.”
“I tried not to, for the reasons I mentioned last night.” He faced forward again, his shoulder brushing hers, and took another forkful of food. “But I noticed you long before I saw you dressed as Wonder Woman. Seeing you half-naked was a pleasant surprise, but I saw you long before that.”
“You noticed my jewelry.” Warmth filled her chest, emotions summersaulting through her that she dared not identify. Her lustful infatuation was one thing, but this was something far more perilous. Something that would end up breaking her heart if she didn’t nip it in the bud now.
“Yeah.” He shrugged, his arm moving against hers. Their bodies were pressed together from shoulder to thigh, and she was trying to ignore how that made her hormones do a happy dance.
Taking a bite of meatball with yogurt sauce, she let the spiciness blend with the creaminess on her tongue. Maybe it was time to focus the conversation on him instead of her. It wasn’t as if she wasn’t wildly curious about him. “So, what do you do for a living, since I know it’s not working for the convention center? Ex-Navy SEAL isn’t a profession.”
He swigged his coffee before he responded. “I do freelance security work, mostly for the capitol and other governmental organizations.”
“Like a security guard?”
“A little higher level than that.” A half-smile formed on his lips, and she got the distinct impression that whatever he normally did was a lot higher level than a simple security guard. “They bring me in as a consultant to make sure their security is top-notch.”
“So, you’re a troubleshooter.” That sounded interesting, and possibly dangerous. Though no more so than a Navy SEAL’s job would be.
He rocked his hand back and forth through the air. “Sometimes.”
“That’s vague.” She nudged him with her shoulder.
“Some of what I do, I can’t talk about. Let’s just say I help keep the state and city’s elected officials safe.”
She swirled her remaining meatball in the last bit of yogurt sauce in her container. “Don’t they have permanent staff for that?”
“They do.” He said no more, just plied himself to finishing off his lunch.
It was clear he didn’t want to talk about it, but she couldn’t resist a last comment. “They want to hire you, but you said no.”
“What makes you think that?” He cast her a narrow-eyed glance. That alone told her she was right, and that she’d somehow hit on a sore point.
“Just a feeling.” She raised her eyebrows. “Am I wrong?”
“No.”
Yeah, he definitely didn’t want to talk about this, but her curiosity got the better of her. Why would a man like him avoid having a stable job? He didn’t come across as indecisive or a flake. “Why say no, if you like the work?”
He hesitated long enough that she wasn’t sure he’d answer her, but he finally replied, “I’m not sure.”
“That’s a prevarication,” she pointed out mildly.
Releasing a long, slow sigh, he ran his fingers along his goatee. “I’m not ready to pick a direction, I suppose. I could take the job with the state government, or I could consult permanently, start my own security firm.”
Turning sideways, she propped her knee on the bench and faced him. “And you don’t know what you want? Neither seems more appealing, even after a year?”
“It’s been a rough year.” He shook his head. “I don’t even know why I’m telling you this.”
“Because I asked.”
“You wouldn’t be the first.”
“Family, friends…” She waved a hand in the space between them. “I’m neither of those. Sometimes it’s easier to talk to people who don’t already know all of your business. Your past, who you were, who they thought you should be. All I have are my observations and a few guesses.” She laid her fingers on the fist he’d clenched on top of the table. “You seemed troubled when you moved in to the condo complex. Not like dangerous troubled, but deeply unhappy about something. Wounded.”
A muscle ticked in his jaw and he stared down at the remains of his meal. “No, I left the Teams in perfect health.”
“Physical health.” She ran her thumb over his wrist. “Some wounds aren’t visible. They’re in your h
ead, or your heart. Or both.”
His fist uncurled and he turned his hand over to hold hers. “True.”
She wanted to ask him, as she had the night before, why he hated himself. Why there was self-loathing in his gaze. But she didn’t. “Do you miss the Navy?”
“Yes, but I don’t regret leaving.” He still didn’t look up, but he squeezed her fingers. “It was the right move to make, before I did something stupid.”
“How stupid?”
At that, he did look up. The expression on his face said it all.
Her heart clenched, and her stomach executed a sickening roll. God, if anything had happened to him, she’d never have met him. It was selfish thought, but she couldn’t help it. She barely knew him, and somehow it felt unthinkable to have never had him in her life. She swallowed a hard lump in her throat. “What happened, that it got so bad?”
He shook his head. “That’s enough soul baring for today.”
“Fair enough.” She bit her lower lip. It was time for an immediate change of subject, for both their sakes. “What about baring other things again? Tonight.”
“Mmm.” He gave her a sidelong glance. “You remember that I’m not a commitment kind of guy, yes?”
She leaned forward, until her lips brushed his neck, just under his ear. “Would a five-night fling while you’re working here be so against your hit it and quit it policy?”
“No, it wouldn’t.” His throat worked as he swallowed, and his voice had the rough quality it had taken last night when he’d been deep inside her. “Plus, if you put on another Wonder Woman getup… Hell, I’d be doomed.”
