Protect Her (Aussie Military Romance Book 2)

by Kenna Shaw Reed

  “I’ll start blubbering like a crazy bitch and you realize that you don’t kiss crazy?” She tried to laugh, fooling neither of them.

  “How about you talk, if you start to cry, I’ll reward you by taking off my shirt to dry your tears.”

  “What about the kissing,” she leaned back, hoping that a great kiss could distract him, although the idea of removing his shirt wasn’t so bad either.

  “Not a chance, you get rewarded for talking. Not before.”

  “Okay, dad was in the Army, he served, got wounded, came back and died. Mum didn’t like her bed being empty when he was away, but after he died she could arrange a series of permanent fixtures. Some she married, and some she didn’t.”

  “So, do you hate him for dying, or hate her for not caring that he died?”

  How on earth did a complete stranger pick it in one. “Both. My mother has been married too many times for me to ever believe in love. But daddy, he was everything to me, and before he left, he’d always promise to come back. Well he came back the last time, but it was too late.”

  “And now you are one interview away from being one of the first the broken and bruised turn to.”

  “Yep.”

  “Babe,” the hands that had spent the night flirting up her legs, smoothed down her skirt but continued to hold her close to his chest. Not trying to brush against her breasts, even though she wished he would.

  “Your dad would be proud of you and I want him to be proud of me in the way I treat his daughter. Because I’m hoping that there will be a second and even a third date, I’m not going to do anything to his daughter on our first date that he wouldn’t approve.”

  “Does that mean no kissing?” She needed the kissing to start so her tears would stop.

  “Well, I did promise you a reward!”

  Reapers Come

  Mack

  Waking, curled around Xanthe, Mack could have smacked himself across the head for last night. What was he thinking, pushing her about her parents. He should have let it go, kept kissing her until the inevitable happened and they either messed around out here or went in and found a spare bedroom.

  Instead, he came close to being friend-zoned, but saved it with a blanket and a cramped shoulder.

  What was it about this woman that had him acting so … un-Macklike! It wasn’t that she was possibly going to start working on base. Firstly, he didn’t have a clue when he stepped in to get rid of her ex from ever bothering her again. Secondly, he had too many of his own exes on base for him to suddenly grow some morals.

  For half the night, he cradled her, holding himself back so she couldn’t feel the need for his restraint. Thinking about her father, and how screwed up her mother had been. He’d seen enough of his mates’ wives unable to cope with the stress of never knowing if their army husband was safe, alive, or enjoying the vast female opportunities of being on tour. No, it wasn’t the life for every woman.

  Until last night, he’d been damned positive no woman out there that could be interested in him was worth asking.

  A night not sleeping, holding Xanthe in his arms and he wanted time to decide whether he was in some sort of melancholy moment of weakness, trying to convince himself to look for a meaningful something before going back to the shit storm.

  Or was it possible that the woman in his arms was as special as their all night talk made him believe. Replaying every moment in his mind, he’d do it all again. Even ending with a cramped shoulder and a dead arm attached.

  “Morning,” she stirred, accidently rubbing against him as she stretched out. She rolled over to face him, more beautiful in the morning light and without makeup than when she stole his attention in the bar, if that was even possible.

  “Morning, yourself.” Initially, he pulled back from the kisses of last night, offering her a more restrained merging of lips, at least until her desire demanded more, regardless of who could walk in on them.

  Tongues pressed, hips grinding together … No, he must invoke some sense of self-control.

  “Look, as much as I want to, I don’t think this sun lounge would take the kind of beating we’d give it.” He couldn’t believe he was the one slowing things down but he didn’t want their first time to be like this.

  “I’m not looking to beat anything without coffee.” There it was, the flirtatious smile and slight shrug of nonchalance that had him hard again.

  “Miss Davies, are you asking me on a coffee date?”

  “Not until I go home and get out of these ‘walk of shame’ clothes.”

  “No!” He thought quickly, not trusting her to go home, rethink the crazy night and in a moment of clarity, ghost him. “I mean, the shops should be open. How about we do something random, go in, find a store and grab something quickly. My shout.”

  “Okay, but let’s make it interesting. We go to the first op shop that’s open and I get to choose what you’re wearing!”

  “You’d wear second hand clothes?”

  “Of course, I told you, dad died, and mum was always investing our money in catching the next husband.”

  “Then, Miss Davies, let me buy you something to wear to our first coffee date.” He forced a grin as she smiled at his discomfort getting up. At least he pulled himself together enough to offer his hand in an exaggerated fashion.

  He wasn’t going to let her go until he had to.

  Flicking through the clothes, he picked her size easily enough, but the clothes were a different challenge. He didn’t think the nude dress was her everyday wear, but she was keeping her face straight no matter which clothes he pulled off the racks.

  “Do you dress for men or women?” he eventually asked, needing some guidance to stop her from standing back and laughing at him.

  “What’s the difference?”

  “If you dress for women, then it’s all about competition, impressing your friends with being on trend and the total ensemble.” He could have kicked himself, the only way he’d know was from being around women a lot. Something he was already trying to live down.

  “Go on, what if I was dressing for a man?”

  “Well, if I was your man,” he could reclaim any lost ground. “Then I’d want to see you in something that you’re comfortable wearing, that feels good to the touch and most importantly can be taken off with one hand.”

  “Ahh, so you don’t like heaps of buttons or complicated lacings?”

  “Sweetheart, if you’re gonna wear a shirt with more than three buttons done up, expect me to bite them off with my teeth.”

  “Duly noted, well I like to dress for me. I’ve never needed clothes to get a guy and my friends and I dress however we please.”

  “Here,” he found a short black canvas skirt, straight so it should fit over the hips he had gotten to know so well last night.

  “I could wear that.”

  “With … these,” he matched a faded rock band t-shirt and red flannel shirt.

  “They’ll go great with four-inch heels!”

  “Go and get changed before I change my mind and insist that you wear that dress all day just so I can try and imagine you out of it.”

  While he had been going through the rows of women’s wear, Xanthe had already picked out a tight fitting, pale blue t-shirt. “What about jeans or pants?”

  “Nothing I could pick out would fit you better than the ones you’ve already got on, I want to see you in the t-shirt, count your abs without using my fingers and then figure out where the Mack truck starts.”

  Now that they were having so much fun flirting, he wanted to slow play her, tease her out and make her work for everything he was going to give her. There was no doubt in his mind that this was more than a one night or even one night plus coffee fling. If she got the job, she’d be moving onto base and he could see her any time.

  A fast and furious fuck and forget was off the table, he knew from bitter experience that life could get complicated and even though the base was full of his one-night flings, Xanthe wasn’t like
other women and for once he didn’t want her to feel awkward if they ran into each other if whatever they ended up having ended badly.

  No, he knew she’d be worth the wait and building her up until she was about to burst would be half the fun.

  Xanthe

  Xanthe expected him to offer to come in and help her change and was a little put out that he didn’t at least try to remove her dress. She was not immune to feeling him against her on the sun lounge, resisting the urge to either push her hips and grind against him, or reach around and feel for herself.

  She wasn’t looking for a relationship, especially not with someone she could be working with! Hell, that was even more stupid than staying with a cheating boyfriend, which she would have done if Krys hadn’t dragged her away that night and threatened to confiscate her mobile if she responded to any bleating text.

  Relationships and love never lasted, her mother had taught her well.

  The skirt fit, tighter than she would normally buy, but that was the cut not because he got the wrong size. In her high heels, it made her legs look longer and the dress look shorter, but not necessarily a bad thing. At least her expensive spray tan was getting a good showing off. The over-sized t-shirt could have been a dress in its own right. With a little effort, she ripped the bottom strip off so the t-shirt now ended above her waist band. If she stretched up, Mack would expect to see her bra, and she figured the expectation would keep him entertained for at least a couple of hours.

  The flannel shirt could be worn open or tied at the front, either way it was comfortable and relaxed. He barely knew her but picked her style, uncomplicated, low maintenance but highly rewarding. For the right guy, and the way Mack was playing his cards Xanthe was ready and willing for anything.

  Mack’s uncensored reaction when she came out of the change room didn’t disappoint. His eyes started at her eyes, worked all the way down, widening at the slight bare midriff, taking their time down her legs and back up again.

  “You owe me coffee,” she said when it was clear he couldn’t.

  A silent nod and he paid, even tossing in a pair of black pumps to change into from her heels. Not quite yet. She liked this attention and was willing to play it for all it was worth.

  “Where to for coffee?”

  “There’s a place near my gym, it does a mean egg-white omelette.”

  “I’m more a sausages, bacon and egg kind of guy but I’ll give anything a try.”

  “Good to know.”

  Xanthe didn’t even think about the consequences of taking Mack to one of her regular cafés until their breakfast had been served. Mack almost inhaled his sweet potato waffles with a side serve of bacon, mascarpone cheese and drizzlings of maple syrup.

  “You’re right, this is good,” he said as she reached over and wiped some syrup from the side of his mouth before licking her fingers.

  “Hmmm,” she let out an exaggerated moan, “I’m thinking we could recreate that scene from ‘When Harry Met Sally’.”

  The eyes that hadn’t left her all night glazed over, “You know, I’m gonna explode if you keep doing that and I can guarantee you that you won’t ever need to fake it with me.”

  “Hey, Xanth, is this the random you sicked on me last night?”

  Crap. She looked over at Mack who hadn’t reacted other than to watch for hers.

  “I’m sorry, I had no idea,” she really didn’t. This place made the best coffee and breakfast and she wanted to impress Mack. What the hell was her ex even doing out of bed so early!

  More importantly, she panicked, what would Mack be thinking about her! She could feel her body start trembling, not wanting their first date to end because she picked the wrong bloody café.

  “Sweetheart, sorry for eating more than my half, I keep doing that, don’t I,” Mack threw her a cheeky smile as he swapped their half-eaten plates around as familiar as if they did this for all meals.

  “You know you’ll need to be punished, later,” she teased, relieved that he was taking the uninvited guest in his stride.

  Xanthe screamed as her ex reached over and swiped the plates onto the floor, food sprayed out across the room, the shattering of the ceramic plates and the metal cutlery rolling across the tiles bringing the café to silence.

  “You fucking slut!” He screamed loud enough for the whole café to hear. “Coming here with your one-night random and expecting me to stand back and watch! Who the fuck do you think you are?”

  Xanthe sat frozen as her ex stood over her expecting a reaction, maybe tears or embarrassed cries seeking his forgiveness. Despite knowing Mack was only a table away, she couldn’t look away from the verbal onslaught, not long ago her ex was the love of her life and now he was trying to tear it apart.

  The insults continued to fly as Xanthe struggled for composure. This couldn’t be happening! All happy and sexy thoughts vanished. In an uncontrollable full body shake, Xanthe wanted the room to open up and suck her in. Being insulted in front of people she knew, how could she ever face them again. And Mack, what would he think.

  Ever so slowly, Mack got to his feet, easily towering over her ex by a head. With the force of his voice he faced her ex. “First, you’re going to apologize to Xanthe, you will explain to her that seeing her here and happy with another man hurt your feelings and that you have nothing but the utmost respect for her.”

  “Wwhat if I ddon’t?” her ex stuttered as he now tried to back away.

  “We won’t need to get to that. So first there’s the apology to Xanthe and it will be sincere enough for her to believe you – after all she knows your bullshit when she hears it. Secondly, there is an apology to everyone in this fine café. You interrupted their breakfast and used language unbecoming. Third you will apologize to the staff here before cleaning up your own mess.”

  Xanthe sat on her hands to try and stop them from trembling. Mack hadn’t used any physical threats but the café was silent, waiting for the situation to further unfold.

  “Are you seriously with this guy?” Now she saw the hurt and fear in her ex’ eyes.

  Xanthe looked to Mack who raised his eyebrow with a slight nod. The smile across his face or hers couldn’t be faked. After the craziness of last night, she had no idea where it would lead to but, yes, she was seriously with this guy. Without looking back at her ex, she nodded as Mack’s smile widened to match her own. Her shaking stopped and she didn’t care what happened next.

  “Xanthe, I know I screwed up. But you know I’ve everything to get you to listen to me. Last night, that girl and I, well sending you the video was messed up even for me.” The petulance she never appreciated continued, “Alright, I’m sorry that I love you so much that seeing you with another guy made me say that shit. Okay?”

  He turned to leave but Mack stood firm in his path. Xanthe wanted it all to be over, but Mack wouldn’t back down.

  “That wasn’t a full apology, but we’ll get to that. You still have steps two and three.”

  “I gave her what she deserved, now get out of my way.”

  “No, the staff here work hard to serve their customers, create great food and then clean the dishes. They don’t deserve to clean up the mess from your jealous tantrum.”

  The café remained silent until her ex went through his options, shoulders slumping as he gave up. “Everyone, I’m sorry. Xanthe dumped me and it fuckin sux to see her with someone else. I love her enough to want her to be happy but its bloody hard when her happiness is out in public. Sorry I crashed your breakfast.”

  The waitress had the broom and dustpan waiting for him and Xanthe tried not to notice when he cleaned up the broken pieces underneath their table. As he finished brushing up the last shards, the waitress took great pleasure in placing a fresh plate in front of them, complete with two clean forks.

  “Our ‘Lover’s breakfast’, enjoy.”

  One large croissant, filled with strawberries, dipped in egg mixture and cooked like French toast, with a side serve of warmed chocolate sauce.
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  “Now, this is a breakfast,” Mack ignored the fork, tearing off a piece of the buttery pastry, dipped it in the sauce before feeding it to her.

  Xanthe would have agreed, if she could speak.

  Mack

  When did a first date end and the second start? Last night, the flirting at the bar wasn’t really a date, but when Xanthe came back to the party with him, that had to count as the beginning of their first date.

  Did it stop when they fell asleep? Was clothes shopping the second date or breakfast and did it ever have to end?

  After breakfast, Xanthe changed into the pumps and they wandered around the town and then down to the beach. Not satisfied with just holding hands, his arm remained slung around her shoulder and he like the way she had tucked her fingers into the waistband of his jeans. Her high ponytail flicking him every now and then in the sea breeze.

  The unpleasantness from the café was not discussed. He hated bringing out the military Mack to settle things, but no person was going to abuse another in his presence, especially not abuse his woman. He’d be gone in just over a week and he needed to do something to protect Xanthe and her reputation after he left.

  His woman. Mack couldn’t remember the last time he thought about any woman as his, opening up thoughts of commitment he’d spent years avoiding. Enough already! He wasn’t cut out for relationships, his parents taught him well.

  “So, how do you think you’ll like life on base.”

  “I don’t know, I’m hoping that work will be busy enough that I just fall into the swing of things.”

  He’d never seriously dated someone from the Army, not even one of the non-commissioned staff on base. Too close to home and if things went pear shaped then women with broken hearts only created bullshit he could live without. One-night stands was about the most he was used to, with women who didn’t want anything more. A couple of exceptions but even then they were better off without him.