She didn’t need to look in a mirror to know that Marie told the truth as the heat of embarrassment intensified and burned through her. She probably looked like the beet on Marie’s plate.
“My, oh my. How things change. Three weeks ago you were polite and sweet and giving me the ‘Oh, he only married me so I could have insurance’ spiel. And now you’re wriggling around in your seat like your panties are on fire.” She leaned across the table in a conspiratorial manner. “So? How was it? And don’t you dare say ‘fine.’ ”
“But it was fine.”
“Liar!” Marie slammed the palm of her empty hand on the table. “The recollection of fine sex doesn’t make a girl squirm in place. It doesn’t give you that ‘I’ve had mind-blowing sex and multiple orgasms’ glow.”
Bree glanced to the door leading inside to make certain no one was eavesdropping. “Okay. It was hot. Scorching, even. It’s amazing we didn’t set the fire alarms off. Happy now?” Bree stirred her soup hoping it would cool. “But it’s no big deal. It’s just sex.”
Marie snorted. “And you believe this?”
“Why does it have to be something more? Michael and I were talking about this the other day. Sometimes lunch is just lunch and sex is just sex.”
“I have no doubt Michael believes that. But you?” Marie pointed at her using her salad fork. “You and Danny have a history. A very long one. And from what you’ve told me, at one time, the two of you loved each other. You can’t just forget it.”
“We are not in love.”
Marie arched a well-manicured eyebrow. “Are you sure about that?”
“Absolutely. We have a deal. We’re just two consenting adults having sex.” Bree paused, no longer able to hold back the smile on her face. “Lots and lots of sex.”
GOD, HE HATED getting home this late.
Danny laughed to himself as he climbed the stairs to his apartment, thinking of all the other times before he didn’t give a damn what time he crawled home. But after the weekend they’d spent together and Bree’s little send-off this morning, he’d found himself almost counting down the minutes until he could get out of there. So it was only right karma bit him in the ass and one clusterfuck after another delayed his leaving.
When he walked into their darkened apartment, he thought for sure he’d find her sound asleep already. Instead, light streamed from the closet keeping the room from being plunged into total darkness, and he found Bree propped up against a stack of pillows, playing on her laptop.
“Hi,” she said, her voice soft and sweet. “Have you had dinner?”
“Not yet.”
He quickly undressed, leaving his clothes in a heap on the floor. Her eyes followed him as he rounded the bed and closed her laptop, taking it from her.
“Are you hungry?” she asked.
He placed her laptop on top of the dresser and climbed onto the end of the bed. “Starving.” In one swift move, he grabbed both her ankles and tugged until she was flat on her back. A few seconds more and he’d divested her of her panties. “Don’t mind me. I’ll be done in a minute,” he said, nibbling and biting his way up her thighs. “All you need to do is lie there.”
Bree giggled and squirmed beneath him as he buried his face between her legs. She bent her knees, opening herself wider to him. But the moment her slender fingers clutched his head, he pulled away, purposely leaving her to dangle on the edge.
“You’re so mean,” she said breathlessly as he climbed up her body.
“Payback, baby,” he chuckled. Danny grabbed a foil packet from the nightstand but didn’t rush to open it. “Seems to me someone has a short memory.”
Only this morning, after thoroughly feasting upon her and bringing her to orgasm, did she give him a pat on the cheek, whisper her thanks and roll over, pretending to go back to sleep.
“I was just playing,” she whined.
“Mmm hmm.” He pushed up the soft cotton T-shirt she’d commandeered from his drawer, exposing her breasts.
“I’m sorry,” she begged.
He barely flicked one taut nipple with his tongue. “Sure you are. Now.”
“I made you brownies.”
Danny shifted to her other breast, this time blowing a gentle stream of air over the tip.
“With white icing.”
That got his attention. She’d made his favorite. He raised his head to look into her eyes.
Bree smiled a little Cheshire cat grin and wrapped her arms around his neck, her fingertips gently stroking the back of his head. “With sprinkles,” she whispered.
Danny shrugged. “Okay.”
Her laughter bounced off the walls as he licked and sucked and kissed her throat, her ear, only going silent when he finally covered her mouth with his. Within minutes he was buried deep inside her, savoring the tight warmth surrounding him until he reached the point he had to move.
He’d forgotten how much fun it was to have sex with Bree. Teasing and laughter combined with the hot glide of sweaty bodies and sweet taste of her mouth was nothing short of intoxicating.
All those times he mocked his friends for rushing home to their wives; if what they had was even half as good as what he and Bree shared, well, he got it now. And he wasn’t certain how he’d ever go back to living without her.
As they lay on their backs trying to catch their breath, Danny’s stomach growled, causing her to laugh.
“Dear God. We need to feed that thing.” Bree pushed up on one hand and pulled down her shirt. “Come on. There’s some leftovers in the fridge.”
After a quick pit stop in the bathroom, he pulled on his boxer briefs as he made his way to the kitchen. Danny stopped short at the end of the hall, his breath catching in his chest. What an image she made as she reached in the refrigerator, the hem of his T-shirt rising just enough to reveal the bottom swell of her bare ass.
And just like that he was hard again.
Bree shoved the refrigerator door closed with her elbow and piled an insane amount of food on the counter. As he considered spreading her out across their small dining table, his stomach grumbled a second time. Clearly, round two would have to wait.
“How was your day?” she asked, pulling a single plate from the cabinet.
“Good. Yours?”
“Good,” she answered. “I had lunch with Marie. She offered me a job.”
That took him by surprise. Mostly because Ben hadn’t said a thing about it. Of course, he probably didn’t have a clue. “Doing what?”
“Bookkeeping. Answering the phone.” She sliced his sandwich in half, garnished it with a pickle and handful of chips before handing it to him. “She’s really busy right now and needs an extra hand. I’d also watch Hannah while she meets with clients or goes to a job site.”
“Kind of overqualified for that, aren’t you?”
“Yeah. But I like Marie and it’ll get me out of the house. I wanted to talk to you first, though, before I give her an answer. Just to make sure you’d be okay with it.”
“Why wouldn’t I be?” he said around a mouthful of roast beef.
“I don’t know. Because she’s married to your best friend? You’ve already given me so much and maybe there are some things you want to keep separate.”
“Doesn’t bother me a bit.”
“You’re sure?”
Danny smiled. “Absolutely. Are you sure you’re ready for this?”
She took her time, waiting until she returned everything to the fridge and rinsed the knife she used before answering him. “It’ll be good to dip my toes in the water. A full-time job would likely be too much too soon.”
“Kind of a win-win for both of you, then.”
“Something like that.”
Having finished, he rinsed his plate and waited patiently as she uncovered the brownies. “I almost forgot. I’ve got something for you.�
� Danny rushed back into the bedroom and from the front pocket of his ACUs pulled out the folded piece of newspaper. He unfolded the picture taken the moment he bent her over his arm and kissed her during the St. Patrick’s Day parade. Using his fingertips, he carefully pressed the creases from it.
“I’d like to take credit for finding it, but really it was hanging in my locker when we came back from lunch. And of course, the guys loved giving me a ration of shit over it.”
“Oh, my God. I didn’t realize there was a photographer there.”
“Neither did I.” He moved next to her, so he could look at it again while he finished his brownie. “It’s a good-looking picture, though.”
“It almost looks like that old photo from Times Square at the end of World War II. Except for the bright red wig.”
“And the squid.”
Bree looked at him like he was nuts.
“It was a navy guy in the original photo,” he explained.
She shook her head and hung their picture on the refrigerator using a magnetic bottle opener. “I wonder if I can get an actual print of the picture.”
“Wouldn’t hurt to ask.”
Bree wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her body close to his. She whispered her thanks and placed a soft kiss to his lips. His hands skimmed down the back of her T-shirt until he reached bare flesh. Cupping the soft swells of her ass, he gave a quick squeeze then lifted. He smiled when she instinctively wrapped her legs around his waist, locking her ankles behind him.
“Thank you for the brownie,” he said then walked his wife back to the bedroom.
Chapter Nineteen
BREE ROLLED ONTO her stomach and pulled the pillow over her head, pressing it tighter to her ears in hopes of drowning out the sounds of the helicopters flying overhead. She should have followed the news reporter’s advice and purchased earplugs, but she didn’t want to use them out of fear of missing a knock at the door or her phone ringing. After all, her husband was out there somewhere in the darkness, jumping out of airplanes and attacking a fictional enemy. Although it was just a training exercise, the risks were very real.
In the past month alone, three men had died during training exercises. Two airmen died when their plane crashed off the Florida coast. The other, a soldier in Arizona, died when his parachute failed.
With each news report her anxiety reached new heights despite Danny’s assurances. Again and again he would tell her, “This is what we do. We train and train and train to avoid mistakes. Sometimes accidents happen, but in regiment those accidents are rare.”
So she smiled and nodded in understanding, trying to pretend everything was okay. Meanwhile, her insides were twisted into knots.
She wondered how military wives handled the stress day in and day out while their loved ones fought a war far from home. Did they trick themselves into believing their husbands were off on a business trip? That the most dangerous decision they faced was whether or not to submit that $200 bar tab with their expense report?
Once the nighttime invasion of Savannah was complete, she finally fell into a deep sleep, only to be woken again a couple hours later. She and Danny traded only a few text messages before they signed off, but still the alarm clock sounded way too soon. For the first time in five weeks, she wished she didn’t have a job to go to. Of course, she quickly remembered what it was like to wake every morning and know that it wasn’t going to be any different than the day before. Or the day before that one. And so on and so on . . .
She hefted herself into the Tahoe, careful to not spill coffee down the front of her freshly pressed shirt. Yes, she was a little overdressed, considering she never left Marie’s house and rarely came face-to-face with another adult aside from the UPS man. But ironing a shirt and wearing tailored pants made it feel more like a real job than just a part-time assistant slash babysitter.
As she navigated her way through the streets of Savannah without the use of GPS, she was surprised at how quickly she’d settled in. Here she was driving around in Danny’s truck like she owned the thing, feeling more and more like one half of a real couple. Depending on how late he got home, they’d spend the evening watching either baseball or a movie. Occasionally, they went out to eat. And on the weekends they’d do the tourist thing and explore old forts and wildlife preserves, places even Danny hadn’t visited in his ten years living here.
True to his word, marrying Danny had provided her life with new meaning and purpose. He’d rescued her from the rut, just as promised. Although it was nice to settle in, she needed to focus on the long-term and made a mental note to contact a few of her former coworkers to see if they knew of any jobs coming down the pike.
Like every other day, she arrived at Ben and Marie’s a little before nine. No longer did she bother to ring the doorbell. Instead, she let herself in the house just as Marie instructed, so she wasn’t left standing on the front porch in the event Marie was busy upstairs with Hannah. Bree shouted a quick hello and before she could even close the front door, Marie came racing downstairs, looking frazzled.
“Thank God you’re early.” Bree followed a hurried Marie through the living room and into the kitchen. “There’s been a major water leak at the Belliveaus’ house and of course their hand-scraped hardwood floors were just installed yesterday. I need to get over there and assess the damage for myself. For now if you could just keep an eye on—” Marie stopped short and swore under her breath.
In the high chair sat a giggling Hannah, her face, hair and hands coated in a thick pink substance. Yogurt, maybe? The dogs gathered at her feet, jumping and dashing around as she chucked tiny handfuls of Cheerios in their direction.
The phone in Marie’s hand buzzed once again, but instead of answering she laid it upon the kitchen island and grabbed a small broom and dustpan from under the sink. Before she could begin cleaning up, her phone was buzzing again. Clearly, someone was quite impatient this morning.
“Go do what you need to do. I can handle this,” Bree said, holding out her hands in silent request for the broom and dustpan.
“I didn’t hire you to be a housekeeper.”
“Doesn’t matter. You hired me to help you out around here. I’m helping out.”
“But this is a huge mess. Hannah’s a huge mess. And you’re so nicely dressed.”
They both looked over at the little girl who continued to giggle and clap her hands as the dogs bounced around her. “I need to give her a bath before I go.”
“I can get it. Really. I’ll wash. Hannah will wash. It’ll be just fine.”
“At least change your clothes first. There’s a load of T-shirts and shorts in the dryer. No sense in ruining your nice clothes.” Reluctantly, Marie handed over the broom and dustpan. “I don’t know how I’ll repay you.”
Bree waved her off. “Stop worrying and get going.”
After squashing a few more protests, Marie was finally out the door, leaving Bree to assess the damage. Hannah stared at her with wide brown eyes as if she just realized her momma had left the building, and Bree braced herself for the tears that surely would come. Instead, the baby smiled again and threw another handful of cereal at her waiting crowd.
The kitchen was a disaster. Breakfast dishes were piled in the sink. A gross mix of sticky stuff and pet hair coated the floor around the high chair. But there was a smiling child in the middle of it all, and the mess no longer mattered as much.
Just as Marie had said, Bree found an assortment of T-shirts to change into, but only one pair of skimpy black running shorts in the entire load. They were identical to the ones Danny wore with 1st Batt’s scroll on the left leg that looked sexy as hell on him, but were so short and so thin they were damn near indecent.
A plastic bowl clattered on the kitchen tile, followed by an impatient scream. Sounded like someone had had her fill of fun so Bree quickly changed her clothes and hightailed it to the kitchen
. After several minutes of struggling with the high chair, she finally managed to remove the tray and give Hannah an initial wipe-down. The dogs had done a pretty good job with the floor cleanup, so mopping could wait.
They headed upstairs where she searched the bathroom to find the necessities as the tub filled. Like most teenage girls, Bree had a few babysitting jobs here and there, so she wasn’t completely inept. But still, it’d been nearly fifteen years since she’d bathed an infant, and she was definitely out of practice.
“Ready for this?”
Hannah stared up at her with huge brown eyes, her little tongue thrusting against her lips. What a sticky, adorable mess she was. So cute it made Bree’s chest ache.
Bath time took longer than expected. Mainly because Bree didn’t have the heart to end Hannah’s fun. Instead, she spent the next half hour watching Hannah splash and play and babble nonsense at her collection of miniature rubber ducks.
The dull ache in her chest transitioned into a painful throb. Holding someone else’s child would be the closest she’d ever come to motherhood. She’d never have a baby grow inside her, feel it turn and kick and let its demand for cupcakes or ice cream be known. She’d never hear a small voice call out for her in the middle of the night when they were scared and needing to be held. She’d never hang a dozen stockings over the fireplace and chase children back to their rooms because they wanted a peek at Santa.
For months her head told her heart that a life without children would be even better. That she’d have the freedom to go where she wanted, when she wanted. No responsibilities to tie her down. Her life was her own and she could do with it what she pleased.
But now that she held this little bundle of sweet smells and soft skin and baby’s breath in her arms, her heart knew she was a damn liar. A spontaneous trip to the Bahamas or nice furniture or more disposable income would never fill the hole left behind when the doctors took her second ovary along with her uterus.
“Is everything okay?”
She’d been so lost inside her own misery and hadn’t heard Marie return home. Bree swiped the hot tears from her cheeks and quickly rose from the rocking chair, handing a sleeping Hannah off to her mother.
Once and For All: An American Valor Novel Page 18
