by Vonnie Davis
“The scars and loss of my calf and foot mattered to my ex-wife. She started divorce proceedings a few days after I arrived back in the States. I got the final decree a month or more ago.” Christ, he hadn’t meant to say that, to reveal that much about himself.
Fire all but blazed from her emerald eyes. “Well, that thoughtless bitch! I ought to…I ought to…” She bit at her bottom lip as if in deep thought as to what type of wrath she’d bestow on Hailey. “I ought to scratch her”—she leaned in, her eyebrows furrowed—“what color are her eyes?”
What a glorious sight Kelcee made when she was pissed. Dustin had to think a minute. What color eyes did Hailey have? He hadn’t seen her for so long, and the last time, he’d been under heavy pain meds. “Brown. She has brown eyes.”
Her fingers curled into claws at her sides. “I ought to scratch her ugly brown eyes out.”
Dustin threw his head back and laughed. “Hold on there, Kitten. She’s thousands of miles away in Columbia, Maryland.”
Her green eyes shifted from anger to fear, and she stepped away from him. “That’s very close to Baltimore.”
“Baltimore? Is that where you’re from? There’s not much of your accent left.” She must have worked hard to replace it with a goodly amount of the Texan twang.
“No. I’m from Denver. After…after my old boyfriend started stalking me, I moved around for a while.” She looked everywhere but at him. His sixth sense kicked in, and so did her antagonism by the narrowing of her eyes and the firm set of her shoulders. “Now I live and own a business here.” Her face damn near glowed fire-engine red while her fingers fiddled with her pink belt. She was lying through her pearly white teeth. “You said you had some plans for the store to show me. Where are they?”
“I didn’t bring them. I thought I could finagle another dinner date if I forgot the plans. Since your store is closed on Sunday, maybe we could spend the day together. We’ll go over your plans and you decide what you’d like to do the rest of the day.”
“Okay, big guy. Sounds like fun.” Her stomach rumbled. “Right now, though, you better feed me.”
—
Baltimore! After all this time, after all the work Kelcee had put into memorizing every detail of her new identity—a couple minutes of being held in this man’s arms…and she’d forgotten. But she’d felt so protected, so safe even as she kissed his scars, part of the truth of her past had just slipped out. Hell, she’d have to be more careful where he was concerned.
He watched her with blue eyes that had darkened to navy. “You said you wanted to be friends. Well, friends don’t lie to each other, Kelcee.” He tilted his head to the side. “Why the fabricated story about Denver?”
“I thought we’d agreed there are some things in our past we don’t want to talk about. Are you going to tell me about your war experiences?” His face blanched and he blinked several times. “I’m not telling you about my past, Dustin. All we can agree on is, from this moment forward, we’re people who care for one another.”
Dustin stepped toward her and entwined her fingers with his. “Was there really a boyfriend who stalked you? Is that why you don’t want your workstation in front of the windows? I worry about you.”
She could barely force her lungs to work. If only her life-threatening problem had been a stalking boyfriend, instead of the atrocious reality she’d stumbled upon. Damn Dustin and his all-seeing character. He made her want to tell the tainted entirety of her past. To spew all the poison from her memory until it was clean like a normal person’s, but that could never happen.
Kelcee hiked her chin and narrowed her eyes in determination. “You don’t need to worry about me. I can take care of myself.”
Dustin forked his fingers through his hair in frustration. “God, woman, you can drive me from protective to wanting to smack that attractive teacup ass of yours in five seconds.” He sighed and glanced away, his jaw hardened. “Maybe someday you’ll trust me enough to tell me the truth, because I know damn well you’re hiding something from me.”
She crossed her arms. “Back off.” Trust came with time. Like maybe fifty years.
“Okay. Have it your way.” He exhaled the sigh of a man greatly put upon.
His arm slid around her waist and her gaze swept to the blue of his eyes. In them were intensity, honesty, and a deep strength of character. Her hand rose to cup his scarred cheek and his face rotated so his lips brushed the inside of her palm. On an exhale, she took a chance and confessed, “There was no stalking boyfriend. That’s all I can tell you. Please respect that.”
He enveloped her into an embrace. “Your trust means a lot, no matter how small the measure of it you give me.”
“My trust comes with a request for confidentiality.” He nodded before his lips lightly grazed her neck. Her stomach grumbled again.
“Perfect timing.” Dustin chuckled. “Grab your keys to lock up. I’ll take care of the lights. Where would you like to eat? The Red Hen or Sandoval’s Tex-Mex?” He turned off the light switch by the filing cabinets behind the cash register and headed for the electric panel at the front of the store.
Kelcee opened the door to the steps leading to her apartment and grabbed her purse. “I haven’t eaten at the Tex-Mex for a while. Can your stomach handle spicy food?” She removed her keys from an outer pocket of her bag.
He turned off the remainder of the lights and took the keys from her hand. “I’m a SEAL. I can handle anything.” He closed the store’s door and locked it, pausing before he handed her the key. “That was a damn lie.” He snorted. “And I just lectured you about friends being honest with each other.” He pivoted and walked to the edge of the porch. “I’m having trouble adjusting to the loss of my foot and part of my leg. I have PTSD issues, as you well know. And, while I want to spend time with you, entering a restaurant where people are going to stare at my scars makes my stomach queasy. How’s that for a litany of feel-sorry-for-me’s?”
Kelcee rubbed her hands over his hardened pecs. “It’s okay, Dustin. You’re facing your fears and doing things like going without your cane already. That takes real courage. A real man.”
He shook his head and sighed. “I don’t feel so proud, Kitten. Every night, the commander, JJ, and I talk about things we’ve been through while in country and since we’ve gotten Stateside. Without being preachy, they’ve shared some coping mechanisms. Some of it means stepping out of my comfort zone.
“If I tell you I need to walk outside and get some air, just let me go. I’ll be back. I’m just walking off some…hell…I can’t even describe the emotions. Not even to you. Maybe not even to myself.” He took her hand and brought it to his lips to kiss her knuckles. “Has any man ever told you how precious you are?”
Kelcee laughed and elbowed him. “We need to get some food in you. You’re beginning to talk weird.”
Chapter 9
Sandoval’s Tex-Mex was a tan adobe-style building with a red-tiled roof. There were several cars in the parking lot when Dustin pulled in. Kelcee gave them all a glance, knowing who most of them belonged to. “Well, you’ll get to meet Fran Silver, my BDSM reader, and her husband, Clint. He’s a U.S. Marshal, although you wouldn’t know it. He’s so laid back.”
Dustin eased the truck into an empty parking spot. “Sit tight. I’ll get your door.”
He was certainly gentlemanly, yet a complex mixture of irritation, humor, and tenderness. Opening up to her about his personal struggles couldn’t have come easily. She admired him for that. He opened her door and helped her down. “I’m thinking about buying my own vehicle. I can’t keep borrowing ZQ’s. Want to go shopping with me? I’m leaning toward something low and sleek. Black or silver.”
Jim Dobbins, the guy who crossed the line with her every time he came into the bookstore, pulled into the parking lot with his family and Kelcee groaned.
“What is it?” Dustin looked around.
“Remember the ass who was in the bookstore when you called a few days ago?”
She jerked her head toward Jim’s faded blue SUV. “That’s him with his family.”
Dustin backed her against the truck and leaned against her. “Is he watching us?”
“Yes.”
“Then don’t fight me on this. I’m going to give him the impression with one little kiss that we’re a couple, that you’ve already got a man. Which you damn well do. In the SEALs, we call this subterfuge.” Dustin forked his fingers in her hair, pulled her head back, and lowered his lips to meet hers. They’d kissed before, but this was more of a branding—a man labeling what he considered his with heat and passion.
Kelcee had once seen a display of fireworks at a Ravens football game. She had no clue the same reaction could come from the joining of two pair of lips. Her hormones fireworked straight up, spiraled for a few beats, and then exploded into reds, blues, and golds behind her closed eyelids.
She moaned and Dustin pulled back a fraction, his face as shocked as hers had to be. “Kelcee,” he groaned and then came in for the kill. His tongue swept her lips. “Sweeter than sugar. Open,” he commanded. She did. Dustin’s tongue brushed against hers and her ankles went weak. His hand cupped her ass, catching her in mid-slide. “I got you, Kitten.”
Those masterful lips of his captured hers again and, with precise movement over every part of her mouth, inside and out, anesthetized every brain cell. Just when she thought she couldn’t handle any more sexual sensations between the aching points of her nipples and the wetness pooling in her thong, one of her garters came undone with a boing and stood straight out.
Dustin rasped his teeth over her jaw and down her neck. His heated lips spread into a smile against her skin. “Is that a paperclip in your skirt or are you just glad to see me?”
Hell, her garter was nothing compared to the hard-on he’d pushed against her during the kiss of the century. Her heart still thumped a conga beat—and she didn’t even know how to dance.
“Why don’t the two of you just get a hotel room instead of making a damn spectacle outside a family restaurant?”
Dustin’s passion-hazed expression as his face rose from hers silently expressed his displeasure at the interruption. The maddened scowl he aimed at Jim startled the vocal intruder so much he made a step backward.
“A clever man would know better than to interrupt a serviceman when he’s having some alone time with his lady, no matter where it is. We don’t take kindly to anyone upsetting our women, even if the smart-mouthed person thinks he’s being funny. Do I make myself clear?”
Jim’s narrowed glance shifted from Dustin to Kelcee. His chin jerked to her. “Didn’t know you had a boyfriend.”
“I just got back from Syria with a short stay at the hospital. Came straight to Warrior Falls to see my favorite person in the whole world as soon as I was discharged. Nice-looking wife you’ve got there. Jim, right?” The man nodded. “I overheard you talking to Kelcee when you were in the bookstore the other day. Your voice carries quite well over a cellphone.”
Jim paled and spun on his boot heel, escorting his family into the restaurant.
“If the bastard didn’t get my message, my next one will be up-close and damn personal.” Parts of the SEAL suddenly exposed themselves—the dogged determination, the dangerous mindset, the fighting until he succeeded at whatever he’d set out to do. Dustin rested his hands on his hips, huffing like a bull ready to charge an opponent. His scowl slowly subsided from his expression, causing his furrowed eyebrows to look less like a wrinkled caterpillar.
Kelcee’s heated hormones were having a tough time cooling down. So was her temper. He’d kissed her with all that tenderness and passion just to make a macho point. She didn’t much care for being used in a tit-for-tat turf war. “Looks like your subterfuge worked. Now, if you’ll turn your back, I’ll fix the garter that came loose.”
He angled his back toward her and she lifted her skirt to smooth her thigh-high nylons with the black lace tops. A very male groan caused her gaze to lift and lock onto his. Of course the man would take a look-see. She fastened the garter to her nylons and smoothed her skirt before charging around him. “I hope you enjoyed the show.”
She hadn’t expected him to move so quickly having just stopped using his cane. Dustin grabbed her arm and halted her steps. “What’s wrong? I’m learning your moods and expressions. You’ve been fuming since the kiss, which I know you damn well enjoyed.”
“Too bad the kiss didn’t mean anything to you, since you’d made it clear it was only to send a message to Jim. If that’s all it was for, you could have gone a little easier on the lip action and tongue dueling. And my hormones wouldn’t be zinging and pinging like a silver ball in a pinball machine right about now. I think you kissed me like that just to see if you could wind me up. Well, you did and I hope you’re happy, because I’m damned pissed. Hell, you’re like a sex grenade!” She tried to shove him back with little success.
Damn him! He had the audacity to laugh. “A sex grenade?” His dark eyebrows rose and his face split into a wide I’m-too-sexy-for-this-world grin.
Hell, I’ve stroked his male ego instead of insulting him.
“That’s it! I’m going home.” She jerked her arm from his grasp and began charging in the direction they’d just come. One nice thing about a small town, everything was close. “Why didn’t you just kiss me like two guppies?” she tossed over her shoulder as she teetered across the gravel driveway in the friggin’ high heels she’d chosen at the last minute this morning. She should have gone with the black wedges or her flats but, no, she wanted to get all sexy-looking for the creep.
“Guppies?” His voice bore down on her, so she picked up speed. “So help me God. When I get my hands on you…” An arm circled her waist and spun her around. “What was all that kissing back at the store?” His thumb jerked in the direction of her bookshop. “First, you were smooching my unscarred cheek and then all over the ugly one. Is that something you do for everyone who has a wound? Were you just showing me pity? Or what?”
This man really had his insecurities. While she wanted to grit her teeth and punch his jaw, she sensed he needed the truth. “No, I’ve never done anything like that to anyone. Well, okay, if a kid has a skinned knee, sure, but your injuries go soul-deep. I was only trying to show you they don’t matter a flying fig to me. I like you for you. I kissed you for you. Just now, you kissed me to teach Jim a lesson. When that realization hit me, it hurt.” She turned away and blinked her eyes. She would not cry in front of him; bad enough she’d gotten all weepy over the flowers he’d given her.
Dustin brushed the hair away from the back of her neck before he bestowed a long kiss on her sensitive skin. He wrapped both arms around her waist, pulling her back into the strength of his chest. “Kitten. What is this thing growing between us? Don’t you think it’s time we talked about that?”
His fingertips gently trailed up and down her arms. “Did you think that kiss meant nothing to me? Couldn’t you tell how you physically and mentally turned me on?” He cupped her shoulders and gently turned her around.
“Maybe the initial idea of showing Jim a thing or two was a lame one. But once my lips touched yours and your body melded into mine, the game plan changed. Hell, that kiss was so phenomenal, I’d forgotten all about the son of a bitch until he spoke. All I could think of was you.”
He breathed kisses over her eyes and cheeks. “Only you. And I’m telling you right now, unless you pitch a bitch of a fit—which I have a damn good idea you can do quite nicely—this friendship business between us isn’t going to work. So you better think on that for a day or two. Do you want to be involved with a wounded warrior? Until then, let’s go in and eat. I’m starved.” He caressed her back and ass with his wide hand. “Kissing you takes a lot out of a man.”
Kelcee’s mind processed all he’d said at high speed. Just why had she kissed his scarred cheek? She hadn’t
planned on it; something within her heart just drove her to do it. Why did the thought of his kissing her without deep emotion behind it wound her feelings? Did she want more than friendship from him?
“Kitten, are we okay for now? I don’t like hurting you.” Dustin enfolded his arms around her and covered her lips with his. One sweep of his tongue and her hormone conga line got to swaying and high-kicking once more.
She was still trying to settle the conga line while they walked across the parking lot. When Dustin reached to open the door to Sandoval’s Tex-Mex, the smell of cumin and jalapenos and festive mariachi music enveloped them. They walked into the restaurant, and a few people went silent, staring at Dustin’s scarred cheek. To his credit, he kept walking, his hand on the small of her back. Fran waved at them.
“Let me introduce you to my BDSM reader and her husband. Just don’t spill the beans about the books.” Kelcee led him to the Silvers’ table. “Fran, Clint, this is my date, Dustin Franks.”
Fran, whose eyes had widened when Kelcee referred to Dustin as her date, clasped his hand in both of hers. “Any friend of Kelcee’s is a friend of ours. How lovely to meet you.”
“Nice meeting you. Didn’t I see you talking to Junebug the other day?”
“Why, yes, you did. We’ve been friends for years and years.” She kept pumping his hand. “My, you are a handsome young man.”
“Sugar Loaf, let go of his hand. You’re cutting off his circulation.” Clint stood and shook Dustin’s hand briefly. “Are you one of ZQ’s old team? He said a few of you were staying at the ranch with him.” Dustin nodded. “I was a Ranger, myself, in ’Nam. You need to talk, son, I’m always available.”
“Thank you, sir.” Dustin’s pressure from his hand on her back increased. “Kelcee, we better find an open booth while we can. Nice to meet you both. The two of us are really hungry, so we’re going to order. I hope to see you again.”
