The Soldier's Wife

by Sirena N. Robinson

  “I figure we’ll need one part-time cook. I’d like to handle that if you’re amicable, and a couple of counter workers. Baristas, if you will. We’ll train them to make the beverages. I’m thinking a full selection of coffee, tea, smoothies, and juices. Some seasonal drinks and then one or two hot chocolates. We’re not Starbucks, but we’ll damn sure need to compete with one.”

  “I like it. The menu should be simple café fare. Soups, sandwiches, salads, and a couple of pasta dishes. We’ll do a limited breakfast menu. Maybe a frittata or scramble.”

  Savi made a note on her clipboard. “Frittata. It’s more the atmosphere you’re wanting.” She tapped her pen on the paper. “Since you work with the hotel so much on weddings, I was thinking we could offer a wedding menu as well. It might not bring in a ton of business, but it would be pure profit since we’ll have all the equipment and supplies.”

  Beckett rolled the thought around. “Do it. I’ll talk to the hotel manager and see if we can get a brochure given to all the wedding parties. You’ll put together a tasting menu and catalog?”

  “No problem. I’ll tweak my stuff from Chicago and go from there. I’ll have some mock-ups for you by the end of the week.” Savi made another note. “I’m going to talk to Jax about getting local fish for some of the dishes.”

  Beckett lifted her eyebrows. “Sounds to me like you’re planning a whole restaurant.”

  Savi made a noncommittal sound. “I prefer baking. I love to cook and I’m damn good at it, but I think my chance to own a restaurant is done and over with. A café is the right call for a salon. Though, since we’re doing things, it might not be a bad idea to put in a wine bar. It wouldn’t cost too much money to build, and there’s a nice spot by the foyer that would work.”

  Beckett scowled. “I don’t know why I never thought of it. I’ll have to look into the liquor permits. I’ll talk to Alan. Good call.”

  Savi grinned. “That’s what I’m here for. Hey, how’s it going with the guy? The one whose name I can’t say in public.”

  “We haven’t gotten to see each other. I think we’ve only managed to get out once or twice since the first date. I’m beginning to think we’re slipping back into the slots we were in before.”

  “Has he seen the underwear?”

  “No. Nothing to report on that front. I’ve officially been celibate for almost six years. I haven’t had sex since Ryan knocked me up with Harlow.”

  Savi shuddered. “You poor, poor soul. Hey, tell ya what. I’ll take the kids Friday night. We’ll stay up too late, eat too much junk, and sleep in on Saturday. I’ll make everyone French toast, and we’ll lounge in our pajamas most of the day.” She linked her arm through Beckett’s. “You put on your sexiest lingerie. I’m thinking the jade green balconette bra with matching panties. Get your Brazilian freshened, get a mani/pedi, a massage, and a facial. Then, when you’re feeling your best, chill a couple bottles of wine, and invite him over. I’ll make dinner for you. Wine, dine, and jump.”

  Beckett laughed. “We’ll see. I need to get back to work. I’ve got liquor permits to apply for.”

  ****

  Murphy sank into the couch, a slice of pizza in one hand and a bottle of beer in the other. Taking a pull on the bottle, he sat it on the coffee table and started to toe off his boots as he took a bite of pizza. Scowling when his phone rang, he twisted to fish the handset from his back pocket and glanced at the display before swiping to answer and pressing it to his ear.

  “Hey, Beck, what’s up?”

  “Hey yourself. Are you busy?”

  Murphy looked around his living room, taking in his brothers, the pizza on the coffee table, and the six-pack of beer. “Not especially. Why?”

  “My garbage disposal isn’t working. It’s making a horrible screeching noise. I tried to call the plumber, but if he has to come out before Monday, it’s an extra charge. Is there any way I could get one of you guys to come find out what’s going on with it?”

  Visions of pizza and beer dissipated. Murphy hefted himself to his feet and reached for the boots he had just taken off. “I’ll be right over. Don’t turn it on until I get there. I don’t want you to fry the damn thing.” He clicked off the phone and pocketed it, looking at his brothers. “Beck’s garbage disposal is on the fritz. Save me a slice and at least one beer. Unless one of you want to go fix it, of course.” He looked at them both hopefully as he crammed what was left of his single slice of pizza into his mouth.

  Jax laughed. “Hell no. All the responsibilities, none of the benefits.”

  Murphy turned to face his youngest brother. “Excuse me?”

  Jax held up a hand in mock surrender. “You have all the responsibilities of being her boyfriend, and you’re getting none of the benefits. You don’t sleep with her, you’re not telling anyone, and you haven’t told the kids. What’re you doing, dude?”

  Sighing, Murphy pulled on his coat. “Right now I’m fixing a garbage disposal.”

  Stewing over Jax’s comments, Murphy was spoiling for a fight by the time he pulled into Beckett’s driveway. Hopping out of the truck, he slammed the door and strode up the walk, pushing open the door without knocking.

  “Beck?”

  Beckett poked her head out of the kitchen and emerged into the dining room, her red hair falling over her shoulders and down her back. She wore a slate gray long-sleeved shirt and snug denim shorts that showcased her long legs.

  “Hey. That was quick.” She padded across the house on bare feet and rose to brush a kiss over his mouth. “I may have lied to you. The garbage disposal is fine.” She grabbed his hand and dragged him into the dining room.

  Murphy’s eyes widened when he took in the glasses of wine and Beckett’s good china set out. Salad sat in a bowl in the center of the table along with two bowls of soup. He tucked her under his arm and kissed her head.

  “This looks amazing. Thank you.” He pulled back and looked down at himself. “I haven’t showered yet. Will this keep long enough for me to grab a quick one and put on some clean clothes?”

  Beckett nodded. “Sure. I’ll put the soup in the microwave. You have some jeans and a shirt in the laundry from when Rhys puked on you last week.”

  Fifteen minutes later, dressed in clean jeans and a shirt, with his hair hanging wet into his face, Murphy slid into the chair and picked up his spoon.

  “What brought this on? Where are the kids?”

  “Savi has them. She’s the one who cooked this stuff, so if it sucks, it’s her fault.” Beckett smiled. “As to the why, I feel bad things have been so busy. I’m swamped at work, and it seems like every other day there’s an event at school or something going on at Vive. I wanted to be able to spend some time with you without everything else. We haven’t been able to do anything in weeks and weeks.”

  “Don’t I know it?” Murphy took a sip of the soup. “This is awesome. What else is there? Other than salad.”

  “Braised lamb shanks, asparagus, and garlic and sour cream mashed potatoes.”

  “That sounds amazing.”

  “There’s a chocolate tuxedo cheesecake for dessert.”

  “Remind me to marry Savi when I wake up from my food coma.” He swallowed a mouthful of wine. “Seriously Becks, this is too much. Thank you.”

  “My pleasure.” She spooned up more soup. “I’m planning Harlow’s birthday party for two Saturdays from tomorrow. Hopefully it’ll still be warm enough to do it outside. If not, there’s plenty of stuff to occupy the kids here. We’ll have about ten five-year-olds, so it’ll be hectic, but there’ll be burgers, chips, and a lot of junk food. Including a Savi-made birthday cake.”

  “I wouldn’t miss it for the world. You know that. Hard to believe she’s turning five. God, I remember when she was born. So tiny and loud.” Murphy smiled at the memory. “I’d never seen anything so gorgeous.”

  “She’s my angel.” Beckett stood to take the bowls and served the salad. “Can I ask you a question?”

  “Anything.”
/>
  “What are we doing here?”

  Confused, Murphy chewed and swallowed a tomato. “Having dinner?”

  Laughing, Beckett speared a cucumber. “I meant in general. Are we dating? Are we back to what we were? Do you still want to pursue whatever this is or was? I know schedules have been demanding, but I almost feel like we’re sliding back into the sibling-esque slot.”

  “I don’t know what to classify it as. I don’t want to advertise whatever it is until we’re sure, so I haven’t been pushing for anything because it’s been so hard to find time. I want to find it, though. I want us to have that time together. I haven’t intended to slide back into what we were.”

  “Neither did I, which is why I planned for us to get this time together. I figured we needed it if we were going to make a go of it.” She pushed her salad bowl aside. “Are you done with your salad?”

  He finished the last bite and stood. “I’ll get the plates. Are they in the oven?”

  Beckett nodded. “Do you have to rush back after dinner?”

  “I don’t have a curfew. Have something in mind?” He sat a plate in front of her.

  “I have a very nice bottle of dessert wine. I thought we’d take our cake into the living room and share the bottle, then maybe rent a movie. You could stay the night.”

  Murphy cut into the lamb shank and took a considering bite. “I think I could probably force myself. Dessert, wine, and a beautiful woman. There are worse ways to spend an evening.”

  She blushed and looked down at her plate, focusing on her meal. “Savi wants to have Thanksgiving at her house. I think it’s too small to fit all of us, but she says it’s doable. She’s renting the cottage down on the beach. The one the Barker’s normally rent out in the summer?”

  “I know the place. I was down there yesterday fixing a leaky toilet. Last week it was the dishwasher, and a few days before she had all three of us unpacking furniture and putting shit together. We’re all very familiar with her little cottage. She’s cornered Jax into painting all this week. He was splattered in a rainbow of colors when he got home yesterday.”

  “It’s nice of you all to help her out.”

  “I like Savi. She’s spunky and full of piss and vinegar. She made a cherry crumble pastry that nearly made me weep with gratitude.” He scooped up the last bite of potatoes. “Hey, next time do you think I could talk you into doing a pot roast? The one you cook all day in the thing that sits on the counter?”

  Beckett smiled as she cleared the plates and wrapped up the leftovers, placing the bowls in the fridge. “Sure.” She rubbed her hands on her thighs to dry them and fiddled with her belt. “Do you want dessert now or later?”

  Murphy pushed his chair back and stood. “Let’s have it later. I’m full from dinner.” He carried both wine-glasses to the counter and placed them on it gently. “You wanted to watch a movie?”

  “Yeah, just let me run upstairs and change. Five minutes.”

  ****

  Moving quickly, Beckett leaped up the stairs and swung into her bedroom, hurriedly stripping off her clothes to reveal the lingerie set Savi had insisted she buy. The emerald green bra pushed her breasts up and together, framing them with spider-web laced fabric cut low enough on her chest she was afraid to bend over. The panties sat low on her hips and were cut thin on the sides, offering little more coverage than a thong.

  She grabbed her robe and slipped it on, tying the pewter silk around herself. Padding to the doorway, she glanced toward the stairs.

  “Hey, Murph? Can you come up here?”

  Her nerves increased in intensity with each footfall she heard on the steps. By the time Murphy stepped into the bedroom, she wasn’t entirely sure she would be able to speak.

  “Everything okay?” Murphy leaned on the doorjamb and lifted his eyebrows. “Something else need fixed?”

  Beckett smiled tightly. “Close the door.”

  Obligingly, Murphy stepped inside and closed the door behind him. Beckett reached for the ties to her robe, unknotting the fabric and letting the sides slide open. She hesitantly reached up and pushed the garment off one shoulder, following the same routine with the other shoulder and sending the robe fluttering to the ground.

  “I thought, maybe, assuming you’re interested, that we’d start with this type of dessert instead.”

  Chapter 10

  Murphy stared, his gaze intense and hot, and his hands clenched at his sides. She met his gaze nervously, taking in the need and desire she saw there and knowing her own was reflected back. When he spoke, breaking the silence between them, she nearly jumped from nervousness.

  “Beck.” His tone turned the single word into an oath.

  Beckett fought the urge to fold her arms across her chest. “Murphy.”

  He stuffed his hands into his pockets to keep them off of her. “I don’t know what to say.”

  “Well, the way I see it, there are two options. You can say yes and come over here, or no and I’ll get dressed and you can go home.”

  “Are you sure you want this? I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m totally in, but I don’t want you to feel like we have to do this, or I just want this. I definitely want this, but not just this.” He paused. “I’m making zero sense. There’s no blood left in my brain. It’s all elsewhere.”

  Laughing, she forced herself not to squirm from the intensity of his stare. “I’m sure. I feel like we’re tip-toeing around each other with neither of us sure what to do. Things get heated really quickly if we let them, and then we don’t let ourselves keep going. I want this. I want you. Dammit, Murphy, it’s driving me crazy enough I spent four hundred dollars on underwear for you to see me in and plotted this entire evening, including making sure my children are out, so we could both get laid. I don’t think me being sure is at issue.”

  Murphy strode across the room purposefully and gathered her in his arms, streaking his hands over her skin. “I want to be gentle and take my time with you. I want to give you everything you deserve.”

  “I don’t need you to be gentle.”

  Slowly, her hands shaking, she stepped back from him, twisting her arms behind her back and unsnapping each hook on her bra. Bringing her hands to her breasts, she lowered the deep green lace, revealing herself little by little. When she was completely exposed, she dropped the bra to the floor and stood in front of him in nothing but skimpy panties. Her heart pounded and her stomach twisted into a knot of nervousness at the prospect of being intimate with him for the first time.

  “I think I’d kind of like it if you weren’t. I like the idea of knowing you wanted me so badly you lost control a little. I’ve never known what that felt like.” Reaching out, she took his hands in her own and placed them on her breasts, his warm skin slightly rough on her soft flesh. “As to what I deserve, I don’t know, but I can tell you what I want.”

  His voice thick, Murphy managed to choke out something close to coherent. “What do you want?”

  “You. More than I thought I was capable of wanting. My body feels wound tight as a fiddle.” Gaining confidence from his low groan, she continued. “I want you to touch me, I want your mouth on me, I want you inside me. I want to spend tonight wrapped around you and sleeping in your arms, and then I want to wake up in the morning and have lazy, sleepy sex until we’re both too sated to move.”

  Murphy slid his hands downward to cup her breasts, lifting them in his hands and reverently skimming his thumbs over her nipples, watching the way they puckered and hardened with his touch. He dragged his gaze from her feet up, taking in her long legs, the softness of her belly and hips, the gentle roundness of her breasts and up over her shoulders—strong and sexy—to her face.

  “Have I ever told you how much I like a woman with a plan?” His gaze travelled over her again. “God, you’re gorgeous. I could kick my own ass for waiting this long to go here with you. You’re the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen.”

  Blushing, Beckett looked away. “Stretch marks, flabby stomach, sa
ggy boobs, and all?”

  His voice sharp, Murphy chastised her. “Where you see imperfections, I see a woman with a body that nurtured and grew two amazing kids. I see you. Every inch of you is gorgeous and amazing. I don’t ever want you to think it’s some hardship to look at you or touch you. It’s not. It’s a privilege.”

  Ending any objection she may have had, Murphy swept his hands down to her hips, drawing her in to press her body against his and dipped his head, laying his mouth over hers in a gentle kiss. While he’d initiated a slow, easy embrace, Beckett came alive, wrapping her arms around his neck and rising onto her tiptoes to press herself feverishly against his body. When he slid his hands around to grip her ass, she pressed on his shoulders and hitched herself up, wrapping her legs around his waist.

  He stumbled the five steps to the bed, tumbling with her onto the mattress, their mouths fused together, tongues tangling in wild abandon. Murphy rolled Beckett beneath him, sitting up long enough to jerk his t-shirt over his head. She sat up and splayed her hands on his chest, laying her mouth against his neck in a kiss. Her hands traveled down to his waistband, her nimble fingers unbuttoning his jeans and sliding the zipper down, slipping her hands inside the denim to push them down his hips.

  Murphy’s eyes crossed when her hands wrapped around his erect penis, sliding up and down over his swollen, stiff flesh. He groaned and tipped his head back, staring at the ceiling as she explored. When she circled one thumb around his tip and folded her fingers around his shaft, stroking up and down, he laid one hand over hers, stopping her.

  “Not this time. Not the first time. I don’t want to take anything. I want to make this about you.”

  Beckett lifted her gaze to his. “It’s about both of us. Let me make you feel good.”

  When she nudged him onto his back, he went willingly. She stripped his jeans down his legs and dropped them onto the floor. Reaching for a hairband on the nightstand, she bound her curls away from her back and dipped her head, her tongue darting out to touch the tip of his penis.