Wyne and Chocolate (Citizen Soldier Series Book 2)

by Michaels, Donna

  “Any chance we get to drive that classic?” the older Wyne asked, practically drooling.

  “Yeah, a good one, since it’s for Stone Bennett.”

  Her eyebrows shot up. “The NASCAR driver?”

  “Yep. He’s Greg’s cousin,” Keiffer replied. “And Ethan’s old classmate.”

  Her brows remained airborne as she recalled tabloid images of the sexy, dark-haired, blue-eyed, tattooed racecar driver. Damn, she was giving her mind a visual workout today.

  Ben nodded. “Yeah, Stone would definitely let us take the Olds out for a spin.”

  “Sounds similar to his first car.” Mason smiled.

  “It is. Only better. Gotta run.” The youngest Wyne winked, then pointed at her. “Digging those glasses, Jill. ”

  A minute later, he was gone.

  Why did she always feel out-of-breath when Kieffer was around? The charismatic man had a commanding presence…and she understood what the two little old ladies had been waiting for while sipping their tea in the corner booth.

  The Wyne brothers.

  She’d noticed the women had perked up as soon as Mason and Ben arrived, then shifted their chairs to see better when Keiffer joined them.

  Understandable. Each of the men were hot and distracting, and she needed to think about something else. Her poor body was already on hot guy overload.

  “So, tell me, hun…do you think you have enough chocolate on your chocolate chip pancakes?” Ben asked Lea, his amused tone capturing Jill’s attention.

  She turned to watch her friend smile and nod her head. “You know me. I love to cover everything in Jill’s chocolate…”

  Heat entered the sergeant’s gaze. “True.”

  Her over-active imagination jumped on the chocolate bandwagon, and in no time flat, images of a naked Mason covered in liquid heaven played out in her head.

  Bad head.

  She cleared her throat and glanced at the man sitting on her right, blocking her escape, because, oh yeah, those last images were too much. She needed air. She needed space.

  She needed to get away from the guy before she did something even more embarrassing than practically inviting him to cop a feel.

  God, she was such a dweeb.

  It wasn’t the seriousness in his expression, or even the slight quirk of his lips that fueled her need to flee. No. It was the spark of interest visible in his dark gaze.

  That scared the heck out of her.

  “Well, I’d better get going. I’ve got a…thing,” she said, risking contact by pushing him to get out of the booth.

  He didn’t budge.

  Bugger.

  “Do you now?” A slight grin tugged his lips.

  “Yeah, what thing? You just finished your big order,” Lea said, frowning at her across the table. “I thought you were taking a break.”

  “I am…I just want to play with another blend. You know, try to perfect it should I need a back up to the one I submitted to that New York company.”

  Crud. Now she had to perfect another blend for back up. She hated liars, and refused to allow her pathetic lack of control for the man to turn her into one.

  “Mmm…more chocolate?” Lea smiled.

  She laughed. “Yep. So, thanks for breakfast, but if you’ll excuse me, I need to go experiment.”

  Turning, she caught a glimpse of heat in Mason’s dark eyes. Oh, crud. He was studying her like she was interesting, and his smile was nothing but trouble. Even though she wanted nothing more than to give into her long, suppressed, playful side and take a walk on the wild side with Mason, she wouldn’t. Not in this lifetime. No. Life had taught her frivolousness led to brief euphoria that fizzled out and dropped you onto desolation road. Well, she wasn’t traveling down that path anymore. Life was about surviving hard knocks, and she was far from ready for the next blow.

  Falling for the sexy resort owner with the haunting gaze was not only a bad idea, it was dangerous. Mason Wyne was dangerous. With a brooding gaze that sparked her need to help and a hot body that sparked an entirely different need, he was a time bomb. She had to keep her distance. Falling for him would be so damn easy; surviving once he left, would not.

  And he would leave. The men in her life always did…after she gave her all and was left with nothing.

  “Excuse me.”

  “Certainly,” he said, slipping from the booth to stand as she rose to her feet.

  He was a good man with a close-knit family and friends. The guardsman wouldn’t set out to hurt her, but he would—and she couldn’t…wouldn’t survive.

  Flashing her a grin she felt all the way to her toes, he leaned close and whispered in her ear, “Watch out for potholes.”

  Great advice.

  He was the biggest one. If she fell in, Jill knew instinctively she wouldn’t get out.

  Chapter Four

  After another long day, Mason had just finished waxing and putting away the last of the skis when his oldest brother walked into the storage room located at the back of the resort. The snow storm that had hit mid week, big enough to warrant state activation of the National Guard, may have been detrimental to some business, but not theirs. It thrived. Wyne Resort had been booked solid the past weekend, with a few stragglers staying on to make a long weekend out of the fresh powder.

  Despite the non-stop busy schedule of tours and skiing the last four days, he was restless and had no idea why.

  “Here,” Ethan said, handing him a beer. “We’re done for the day. Cheers to our first long weekend of the winter.”

  They clinked bottles and took a pull. This was the first time all day Mason had taken a break. He hadn’t even stopped for lunch, opting to chow down on an energy bar on the slopes.

  “That hit the spot, thanks,” he said, sitting down on one of two benches in the room where they stacked skis and poles and boots available for guests to rent if they arrived without gear.

  Ethan dropped down on the other and blew out a breath. “I’m beat. Been a long four days, and now I have to go out and finish that snow fort with Tyler.”

  Widowed before his son’s second birthday, his brother was a good father. Ethan sacrificed everything for the boy. Including sleep. The six-year-old had been excited all weekend, and even conned his grandfather and his brother’s girlfriend into getting the fort started.

  “Ben and Lea went back to the city, but Keiffer said he’d help later,” his brother continued, exhaustion slowing his words. “I don’t suppose you’d consider the beer a bribe to help your nephew?”

  A smile tugged his lips. “Nephew? I get the impression I’d be helping my brother.”

  “True.” The eldest Wyne’s smile turned into a yawn. “Sucks to get old. I’m not as wry as I used to be.”

  “Hate to break it to you, Ethan, but you were never wry.”

  “Says the guide who huffs and puffs up Chancellor’s Bluff.”

  “Hell yeah.” His head reeled back. “It has a steep pitch. Sixty degrees. Bet your ass I get winded.”

  “Keiffer doesn’t.”

  He scoffed. “That’s because Keiffer isn’t human. I swear he has more energy than a nuclear power plant.”

  “Yeah, and that damn bunny.”

  Laughing, they raised their opened bottles in mock salute before sucking down more beer.

  “Wonder where he gets it, because I sure as shit could use some,” Ethan said with a sad shake of his head as he lowered his beer. “I think Tyler takes after him.”

  “I think so, too.”

  His nephew certainly had kept their sister, Brandi, hopping. She’d had temporary custody due to Ethan’s deployment when the little guy had been two. But, she’d managed very well, and even though she was now married and living in Texas, she Skype’d with Tyler a few times a week.

  “So, what do you say, gonna help us out? Or do you have a hot date?”

  Hot date…

  He held back a snort. Christ. He hadn’t had one of those in months. Had no interest in one…until a cer
tain chocolatier crashed into his path.

  She elicited responses in him he wasn’t ready to deal with or dissect, and that was exactly why he needed to keep his distance. Besides, he got the impression that was what she’d wanted, too.

  “Oh, that reminds me,” Ethan said, setting his empty beer aside to stand up and dig in his pocket. “Here, give this to your girlfriend.” He withdrew something shiny. “I found it when I was cleaning out the back of the Humvee. She must’ve dropped it the night of the storm. I forgot I had it. Please apologize to her for me.”

  “Jill’s not my girlfriend.”

  “She could be,” his brother said without missing a beat as he handed him a gold pin. “Not all women will leave you at the altar like Renee. Give yourself a break.”

  He knew his brother’s words were meant as a pep talk, but they still produced a sting.

  “I will when you will.”

  The frowning man cocked his head. “What do you mean? I date.”

  Mason laughed. “Yeah, two times in the past four years doesn’t quite cut it, bro.”

  “Why not? They were dates.”

  “They were with old friends you were not attracted to, just so you could appease Brandi’s harping.”

  And because it was true, his brother closed his mouth and sat back down. Idiot knew better than to deny it.

  His brother let out a long breath. “It’s not just about me anymore. I can’t date on a whim. I have Tyler to think about now.”

  “I know.” Mason nodded. “But I also know you are using that as an excuse not to put yourself out there.”

  “Yeah.” Ethan leveled him with a look. “So what’s your excuse?”

  “What do you mean? I put myself out there.”

  “Like hell you do.”

  “Didn’t I date…that Broadway star…” he paused to try to remember the pretty blonde’s name but, son of a bitch, his mind drew a blank.

  “Kirsten,” his brother supplied.

  He snapped his finger and pointed at him. “Yeah, her.”

  “That was six months ago, man. You haven’t dated another woman, even though they throw themselves at you night and day around here.”

  Jesus, his brother was such an exaggerator. His snort echoed around the room. “They do not.”

  “Bullshit.” Ethan laughed. “Just this weekend, Harmony Aniston from Albany flashed her ta-tas at you in the hot tub, inviting you to join her…and you walked away with a polite refusal.”

  He shrugged. “So? She wasn’t my type.”

  “Your type? Since when did you have a type? Damn, Mason. The woman was gorgeous and stacked…and those ta-tas were the real deal. At least tell me you noticed they didn’t float?”

  Yeah, he’d noticed, and his body had absolutely no reaction. His brothers just didn’t get it. He didn’t trust women. Especially ones who stripped in front of a hot tub full of people.

  “Whatever. I wasn’t interested.”

  “Okay. I get it. She didn’t get a rise out of you.” Mr. Smug’s smile widened. “And I think I know why.”

  Tired of the subject, he rolled his eyes. “Fine. You look like you’re about to implode. I’ll bite. Enlighten me, Einstein.” Bottle to his lips, he finished his beer while waiting for a reply. The sooner he could put the subject to bed, the sooner he could leave.

  “You weren’t interested because she wasn’t Jill.”

  Mason stilled, but the beer continued down his throat. He started to cough, pounding on his chest as if that would help.

  “Yeah, that’s what I thought,” his idiot brother said, big-ass grin on his face while Mason continued to choke.

  Effer.

  “You weren’t interested in Harmony’s goodies because a different New Yorker has captured your attention.”

  “Former New Yorker,” he corrected, voice rough.

  “So, you admit it.”

  “What? No, you asshole,” he rasped. “I’m just correcting your logistics.”

  “My logistics are fine. It’s your honesty we need to work on, bro, because you are definitely attracted to Jill. Hell, there’s so much chemistry between you two the damn hair on my arms stand straight up when you’re in the same room.”

  Surprised by the statement…and the fact the same thing happened to him whenever the beautiful brunette was around, he just stared at his brother.

  “Look, you’re acting like this is a bad thing,” Ethan said. “It’s not. You need to move past Renee.”

  Shit. Not that again. He jumped to his feet and handed the empty beer bottle to his brother. “Here, you can set this with the returns when you drop off yours.” He and the rest of his family kept a return bin in the back room of Timbers, their bar at the resort. Their father was big on recycling.

  “Fine. Now, back to Renee—”

  “So, this has been a barrel of laughs,” he interrupted. “But, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go watch a Soap Opera on TV.”

  “She run-away-bride’d you three years ago—”

  “Yeah, I know. I was there.” Along with a hundred guests, family, friends, guard buddies. He wasn’t likely to forget—nor would he forget who had driven the getaway car. “Don’t you have a kid to take care of? And a fort to build?”

  Ethan rose to his feet and narrowed his gaze.

  He held it, even though the eldest Wyne had been compared to their father—a retired Army National Guard Colonel—on more than one occasion. But they were no longer children. Mason wasn’t the gullible computer nerd he used to be…at least, not since Renee dumped him.

  He’d changed. Wised up. Grown up.

  Closed up.

  Boundaries. Walls. Limits. He had them now. He also had a backbone. Who knew? The Wyne stubbornness had not skipped him, it just took getting his heart ripped out and trampled in front of everyone he held dear, to breathe life into the gene.

  So, Ethan could stare at him all night, he wasn’t going to be the first to say a word.

  “Fine. I’ll leave, but not before I have my say.” His brother walked to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. “If you’re really over Renee, then prove it. Ask Jill out.”

  Like hell. “I don’t need to prove a damn thing, nor do I need to ask someone out because you said so, Ethan.”

  “True.” His brother released him and cocked his head. “You need to do it for Brandi. She’s worried about you. Said so when we Skype’d at lunch today.”

  Ah, damn. He ran a hand through his short hair and squeezed the back of his neck. His sister was a newlywed and finally had her life in order after a rough patch with a prick ex-boyfriend. Last thing he wanted was for her to be worried about him. “She shouldn’t be concerned. I’m fine.”

  Ethan stepped in front of him. “Then let me repeat myself. Jill is sweet and beautiful, but above all, she’s trustworthy. So, give yourself a damn break and take a chance on her.”

  “I’ll put myself out there when you do,” he countered.

  Dark eyes narrowed again, but then his brother surprised him. He nodded. “Okay. Deal. I’ll put myself out there when the right woman comes along, if you put yourself out there now.”

  “Define right?”

  “Someone who loves kids and makes the hair stand up on my arms in a good way.” Ethan slapped him on the back. “Kind of like Jill does to you.”

  Then the guy left the room…whistling.

  Bastard.

  Mason fingered the gold pin in his hand. The delicate filigree flower reminded him of Jill. Beautiful and strong with a sharp edge when prodded. Arousal shot through him and he rode out the wave.

  Damn it. The woman intrigued him, with her warm, dark gaze, full of light and shadows. He had to admit, he wondered just what her story was, and how the hell she managed to get past his walls. She made him laugh. She made him hard. She made him feel something other than anger and self-pity.

  When she’d walked out of Gabe’s the other day, he’d gotten her not interested message loud and clear. Even told himself
it didn’t matter if they never bumped into each other again. After all, they’d both admitted they were too busy to date. But apparently, his subconscious didn’t give a shit because when he was sleeping, he dreamt about the woman. Nightly. The same, hot, erotic fantasy of the two of them in the back of a Humvee…naked, fogging up the windows and not through talk, at least, not verbally. Pure body language had him waking up hard and frustrated.

  Yeah, seeking her out was a really bad idea. Especially since she had made it clear she didn’t want to be pursued.

  He closed his fist around the pin and blew out a long breath.

  Jill was smart and had a healthy drive to succeed. He understood that drive. Respected that drive. Respected her. So, if the pin was an heirloom and held sentiment, then he had to return it to the woman. She would want it back. He didn’t have a choice. He had to see her again.

  It was his duty.

  Chapter Five

  For being a Monday, the day didn’t sucked half as bad as some, Jill thought as she put away the last of her cleaned out molds on a metal rack in her kitchen at the shop. Only one customer had given Theresa a hard time over a piece of fudge the lady claimed had a strand of hair in it. A blue-gray strand. Not unlike the ones on the customer’s head.

  Even though she and her employee always wore a net over their ponytails—their dark-haired ponytails—when they made candy, Jill believed in the old adage the customer is always right. So, she gave the lady a free pound of chocolate peanut butter fudge and sent her on her merry way.

  It had been worth the loss to gain the peace and quiet in the store. And it was quiet. Blissfully so, except for the music playing quietly in the background from a local radio station. She loved to work to music, especially with a good beat. Made the day go faster, and the work more fun. She had a few favorites, but a soft spot for Pitbull, and they featured him regularly. The artist’s songs were upbeat about overcoming adversity. Something she knew all too well.

  Sure, there were plenty of others who had it far worse than her, but she’d had her share of potholes in life, and related to the sexy singer’s prose.