by Amy Brent
“Awfully kind of you.” I took a sip of my coffee, looking him up and down. He didn't look rich. Didn't look like anything but a navy boy. I would have expected to see him in an Italian suit, wearing a gold watch and being driven around by a chauffeur. Not getting himself muddy hauling debris out of the streets.
There was a long silence as we stood there with our coffee. I had trouble making eye contact. He couldn't have known how much I'd been looking up about him over the last few weeks. I wondered if he would find it flattering, or creepy. I decided to avoid mentioning it.
“Thank you,” I said. “For the check, I mean. It helped out a lot. Might still need some of it to help pay for storm damage repairs.”
“I was happy to help out,” he said.
“You obviously aren't hurting for money.”
He smirked, glancing at me out of the corner of his eye. He didn't say anything. Didn't have to. He held himself with a quiet confidence. He didn't seem to need to show off his wealth. He looked almost embarrassed to have it brought up.
“So how's your business going?” he asked me. “I hope the storm didn't hurt you too bad.”
“Nothing major.” I shrugged. “Insurance should cover most of it. Everything's been fine otherwise.”
“If there's anything I can do to help,” he offered.
I studied him for a moment. Part of me, the prideful part, didn't want to take any more help from him. The more practical part wanted me to milk him for whatever I could get out of him. If he was willing to throw his money around, there was no reason I couldn't take advantage of that.
But I felt guilty at the idea of taking advantage. So instead I said, “The mom and pop grocer's on the corner, they got hit the hardest. I don't think they've got enough insurance to cover it. If you could do anything...”
He looked down the street at the grocer's. A huge tree had smashed in their roof, and once the roof had collapsed, the store had been flooded. The building was in horrible shape, and they'd lost a lot of their inventory when the grocery shelves were flooded, ruining most of the food.
Rick nodded. “I'll see what I can do.”
“Thank you.”
He smiled at me, and for a moment, I thought there was something in that smile. I caught his eye roaming when he thought I wasn't looking. I was a big girl, but I still had curves in all the right places, and I saw him eyeing my curves with an appreciative gleam in his eyes. My face started to grow warm and I hid my blush behind my coffee cup.
He finished his coffee and walked over to the wastebasket on the corner to toss it in. “Thanks for the coffee,” he said. “We should do this again sometime.”
“Cleaning up after a storm?”
He chuckled and shook his head. “Coffee. If you're free, that is.”
I eyed him appraisingly. “I'm sure I could squeeze in some time,” I said. “As long as you're buying.”
He smirked and nodded. “Of course.”
“Stop by the bar sometime,” I said.
“Actually,” he said, “I was hoping for something a bit more...private.”
I arched an eyebrow, studying the look on his face. I couldn't tell if he was serious or not, but everything about him so far had seemed sincere. “All right. Give me a call sometime.”
I gave him my phone number and he programmed it into his phone, promising to call. Then he headed back to his men, who started hooting at him and teasing him for being a flirt.
I walked away, ignoring the burning in my cheeks. I resisted the urge to glance over my shoulder to see if he was still looking at me. But there was an itch between my shoulder blades that told me his eyes were still on me the entire time.
Rick called me the very next day, while I was going over insurance forms for the damage to the bar. I set aside the paperwork and answered the call, trying not to let the butterflies take over my stomach. “Hey,” I said.
“Hello, Chantelle. I hope I didn't catch you at a bad time.”
I looked over the messy pile of forms spread out all across my desk. “No, not a bad time at all. How's things?”
“Doing quite well,” he said. “I was hoping you might be free this afternoon, perhaps? I took quite a liking to the coffee from that shop on your street.”
“That sounds great,” I said. “And they offer a discount to the other shops on the street.”
He laughed, and I realized how foolish I sounded. This man was rich enough that saving 10% on a cup of coffee really didn't matter to him.
We picked a time to meet at the coffee shop. I hung up the phone and stared at my insurance forms, unable to focus on them.
I had a date. A date with a rich navy SEAL. I couldn't quite get that thought straight in my head.
I set aside the paperwork and grabbed my keys. I had to head home and change into something more presentable. I usually came to work in jeans and a t-shirt, since tending bar didn't exactly require me to look fancy. But for a date, even if it was just a coffee date, I needed to make myself look a bit nicer.
An hour later, I walked into the coffee shop wearing black slacks and a deep violet blouse. Rick was already there waiting for me. We ordered our drinks, then sat down at a private table in the corner. We chatted for a little bit about the storm and how things were going with the recovery efforts. I carefully avoided bringing up my insurance situation, since I didn't want to feel like I was trying to get something out of Rick.
Eventually, the conversation moved on to more personal topics.
“So, tell me,” Rick asked, “what's it like running a bar? Is it all drunken buffoons and people starting bar fights?”
I laughed and shook my head. “No, trouble like that tends to be few and far between. Most people keep to themselves, or come in in small groups, just there to have a good time. Sometimes I get guys who are a little too aggressive trying to pick up some of the single women at the bar, and I have to toss them out. But usually, it's quiet.”
“What made you get into the business?” he asked. He watched me as he sipped his coffee, and I felt my cheeks warming up at the look in his eyes.
“Originally, I got a job there when I was in school,” I said. “It seemed like a good way to pay my tuition. But I found I had a knack for it. I switched majors to business in my junior year so I could learn how to run a place of my own. Then, a few years ago, the owner decided to retire. I took out a loan so I could make him an offer, and now the place is mine.”
“That's great,” he said. “It takes a lot of gusto to run your own business. Especially one like that.”
“What about you?” I asked. “I mean, I read up on you a bit. You decided not to run the family business.”
He shrugged and leaned back in his chair. “I guess I didn't think it was a good use of my time. Even when my dad retires and I become primary shareholder, I can just appoint someone to run the day-to-day affairs for me. I have better things to do with my personal time.”
“Like helping out people in need,” I said, thinking of his volunteer work after the storm.
“Exactly.”
We made small talk for a bit longer, until it was time for me to go open the bar. Rick walked me to my car, and when we got there, he took my hand in his. He looked into my eyes, and I saw the spark of desire there. But I hesitated. I couldn't see myself having a place in this man's life. Could I?
“I'd enjoy seeing you again,” he said.
“I...I'd like that.” I blushed and lowered my eyes.
He reached up and touched his fingers under my chin, tilting my face up towards him. I held my breath. He leaned in and pressed his lips against mine. I slipped my hands around his neck, savoring the taste of his kiss. His stubble scratched my chin, delightfully masculine. He put an arm around my waist, holding me. His arms were strong. Safe.
I was breathless as we parted. I leaned back against my car, trying not to giggle like a little schoolgirl.
“Dinner, sometime soon?” Rick asked, caressing my cheek. “That is, if you ever have
a night when you're not bartending.”
“I take Mondays off,” I said. “One of my workers runs the bar that night.”
“Monday night, then,” he said. “I'll pick you up at 6:00?”
“Sounds wonderful.”
He headed off, and I got into my car and drove back to the bar. For the rest of the night, I found myself thinking about his kiss, and looking forward to the dinner date next week.
Rick picked me up for dinner Monday night and took me to a little steakhouse downtown. I was surprised, but not at all disappointed, that it was a small, middle-class establishment. I knew quite well that Rick could afford a lot better. It made me wonder if he was trying to pretend like he was a normal, everyday guy, or if he was worried that I'd have thought he was showing off if he took me to a five-star restaurant with meals that were $200 a plate.
I didn't want to ask, though, so I decided to be more subtle. “You come here often?”
“Oh yes,” he said as he held my chair out for me. “Me and the boys come down here every couple of weeks. Nothing beats a good steak.”
I smiled at his response. Maybe, I figured, he simply had good old fashioned down to earth tastes.
I ordered a hearty steak and potatoes myself. Most girls I knew tended to eat more daintily, trying to watch their waistline. I'd been a plus-size girl since I was a teen, but I was more than comfortable with my weight. I knew I had curves in all the right places, and that I could be sexy and seductive without starving myself in the process.
I could also tell that Rick was a man who appreciated the way I looked. While we ate and talked, I kept catching him sneaking a glance here and there. It brought a swell of pride to my chest to know that I could draw a man's eye, especially a man like Rick.
After dinner, Rick ordered a bottle of wine to go, and slipped our server an excessively generous tip to get her to look the other way when he took two wine glasses with us on our way out. We drove down to the waterfront and went for a walk under the moonlight. A paved path wound its way along the shoreline, looking down over the cliffs. The waves crashed against the cliff face down below us, and the lights of some ships shone off in the darkness near the horizon.
Rick poured us each a glass of wine. We sipped the wine as we walked, quiet for a little while, until we were far enough down the walkway to have privacy.
“You know, you're a fascinating woman,” Rick said as we stopped to lean against the railing, looking down over the shadowy waves below.
“Oh?” I asked. “I don't see what's so fascinating about me. I'm just me.”
“You're strong,” he said. “You aren't afraid to stand up for yourself, even when you're up against drunken marines. You've got a good heart. And lovely eyes.”
I smirked. “I bet you say that to all the girls.”
“Only when it's true,” he said, turning towards me. He reached out and caressed my cheek. I nuzzled against his palm and sighed. He had a gentle touch, and it made me feel warm.
He ran the backs of his fingers down my cheek, then slid his fingers back into my hair. “You're very soft,” he whispered. He stepped closer, pressing his body against mine and leaning in to whisper in my ear. “And warm.”
I sighed softly, letting myself melt against him. His fingers felt amazing, and I found myself wanting him to touch me in other places as well.
“I bet you're the kind of woman who takes what she wants,” he whispered, tracing his fingers along the curve of my neck. “And doesn't hesitate.”
“You're right,” I said. I took his face in my hands and pulled him close, tasting his lips. He slipped his arms around me, caressing my curves as we kissed. His touch sent shivers throughout my body. I moaned against his mouth as his hands roamed lower, squeezing my ass. I felt his excitement as he pressed himself against me, and his arousal was contagious. I slipped my hand down and reached for his crotch, giving it a gentle squeeze.
He gasped and shivered. “You really do take what you want,” he said.
“I'm definitely ready to take it.”
He kissed me again, then took my hand. He led me down the path until we found a trail that led down to a small stretch of beach, framed by cliffs. It was dark and private, and when we laid down on the sand together, it was like there was no one else in the world.
We laid together on the sand, taking our time, exploring each other's bodies. Rick's hands moved slowly, caressing my ass, my hips, my breasts. I kicked off my shoes and let my toes curl in the sand as his touch sent tingles through my body. He unbuttoned my blouse and started planting soft kisses along my breasts. I ran my fingers through his hair and pulled his face closer, moaning in pleasure.
When I couldn't wait any longer, I pulled him on top of me and started unbuttoning his pants. I slipped my hand inside and found what I was looking for, stroking it firmly. He moaned and leaned over me, using his knees to push my legs open. I spread my legs eagerly and pulled him closer, guiding his movements until he was inside of me.
We made love in the sand, under the stars, until my body ached with such pleasure that I couldn't contain it any longer. I clung to Rick as he thrust into me, my nails digging into his sides. I didn't try to hold back my screams of ecstasy. I let them out, crying my pleasure into the night, knowing that there was no one else but Rick to hear the sounds of my climax.
Afterwards, we lay there holding each other. I closed my eyes and listened to the sounds of Rick's breathing. Each shift of my body sent grains of sand sliding off my sweaty skin. I reached up and traced a finger along Rick's lips.
“That was something else,” he said.
“Is that a good thing?”
“Mmm, a very good thing.”
He kissed me softly, gently, then laid his head against my chest. I held him for a long time, until the chill of the night air started to cool the sweat that coated my skin. We got up and brushed as much of the sand off of us as we could, then we got dressed. We walked back to the car hand in hand and Rick drove me home.
“Boy, I need a shower,” I said as we pulled up to my place. “I'm sweaty and I've got sand in...places.”
Rick smirked at me and caressed my cheek. “You want some company in that shower?”
I eyed him sidelong and grinned. “You sure you don't need to be back at the base, soldier boy?”
“I've got a forty-eight hour pass,” he said. “I can stay out as long as I like.”
“Well, in that case, I could use someone to scrub my back.”
We had as much fun in the shower as we'd had on the beach. Rick pinned me against the wall and soaped me up, then rubbed me down, taking his time to caress every curve. By the time we finished, I was pleasantly exhausted. We collapsed into my bed together and he wrapped his arms around me, holding me close.
Just before I drifted off to sleep, I whispered into the darkness, “Rick?”
“Yes, babe?”
“Is this something serious for you? I mean, not just a good time?”
“Everything I do is serious to me,” he said. He kissed my neck and squeezed me tight.
I sighed in contentment, then closed my eyes and went to sleep.
Rick became a regular part of my life over the next few weeks. He came down to the bar when he had time off, keeping me company when it was slow, and lending a hand when it was busy. I let him work behind the bar and found that he wasn't half bad at mixing drinks. It was nice to have him there, and it made my nights much more pleasant.
Sometimes we slipped back into my office and made love on the desk. Other nights, we went back to my place and he spent the night. He never took me back to the base, which was just fine. I didn't want to be around all of those other military types. Only Rick.
One night, weeks later, we were having a quiet, candlelit dinner at my place. Rick had insisted on cooking, saying that he had some news to share with me, and he wanted to set the right mood. I sat and waited while he cooked, my nerves all riled up. I had some news of my own, and I wasn't sure how he was goin
g to react to it.
As he was serving the meal, I wrung my hands under the table. “Are you going to tell me what your big news is?” I asked.
He finished setting out both of our plates and sat down. “I was hoping we could enjoy a nice dinner first.”
“I'd really rather hear what it is,” I said. I didn't even touch my food. “I...I have something to tell you myself. And it's pretty important.”
“What is it?” he asked.
“You go first.” I kept my eyes lowered, too nervous to look at him. I picked up my fork and pushed the food around on my plate, but my stomach was tied in knots, and I couldn't bring myself to take a bite.
“Well,” he said, unfolding a napkin and setting it in his lap. “I have a decision to make. And I was hoping that you would be part of it.”
“Decision?” I asked, frowning. “What are you talking about?” The knots in my stomach just got even tighter.
“At the end of the month, they're going to be transferring me,” he said. I looked up at him and he met my eyes. “Overseas.”
“Oh God.” I felt faint and swayed in my chair. I took a sip of water, suddenly feeling parched. “You...you're leaving me?”
“No, no!” He got up and moved around the table to kneel by my side. He took both of my hands in his. “That's what I want to talk to you about. See, I've never had any reason to stay in one place before. I always just went where they needed me.”
“But?”
“But,” he said, “now I've got a reason.” He squeezed my hands.
I took a few deep breaths, trying to calm myself. The last thing I needed right now was to find out he was moving to another country, even if it was only temporarily. He could be gone for a year or more, and that would ruin everything.
“What are you saying?” I asked, once I was calm enough to speak. “Are you leaving, or not?”
“That's what I want to talk to you about,” he said. “I have an option. I can resign my commission, and then I won't have to go.”
I held my breath for a moment while I sorted through that thought. “So is that what you're doing, or...?”
