This restless, unsettled feeling was something she rarely dealt with. Not since she was a teenager waiting to move out of her mother and the general’s house. That day had felt like it would never come. But at least in that scenario she’d had a definitive and certain outcome. At that point she’d known college was in her future. Freedom. The beginning of her destiny. She’d had a good idea that at some point her grandfather planned to bequeath her the business that should have gone to her father. He’d mentioned it casually several times. Encouraged her to major in either business or finance. She’d assumed there was plenty of time to get a degree in what she wanted, try a few things on her own. Maybe come work and learn from him eventually.
It hadn’t worked out that way. She’d had one other serious job, but way before she’d planned to, she’d had to take over LAM and learn as she went. Ever since her first day, she’d hit the ground running and hadn’t slowed down or looked back. There’d been little time for personal fulfillment or relationships in her adult life. And she’d been okay with that.
Until now.
It was hard to know if she was just hankering for a change from the daily monotony of corporate life and duty, or if it was this man in particular that had her all twisted up inside. Maybe it was just the excitement of a handsome man’s interest. Or the fact that fate kept throwing them in each other’s paths, which was so odd. It was also possibly the fact that she’d now had really good sex and wasn’t sure how to give it up. But deep down she knew it was more than that.
As hard as it was for her to admit, there was no denying . . . It was him. Had to be.
The way his eyes crinkled around the edges just the slightest bit. How the rough pads of his fingers felt on her skin or the sound of his laughter in her ear when their bodies were pressed together. The way he managed to make her feel vulnerable and strong at the same time.
Emily’s eyes closed, trying to imagine their last night and morning together. Up until the moment when she’d caught sight of his tattoo and reacted like an idiot, it had been magical. Why in the world had she let the military thing cloud her judgment? The general was one man. She’d had other good men in her life. Her dad for one. While he’d been fairly serious and had a tendency toward gruffness when he was stressed about work, he could also be gentle and loving. He used to kiss her mother’s neck while she stood at the kitchen sink and hold her hand while he drove. Emily remembered that he often would whisper into her mother’s ear, and as a child she could never tell if it was the tickling of his lips that made her mother laugh or the words he’d said.
As an adult she now knew it was probably both, and it was those precious memories that made it so hard to accept her stepfather, who was cold and irritable. Her mother swore Emily didn’t know all of him, but the part that she did know didn’t encourage her to want to know any more.
She wanted the sweet kisses, whispers, and hand holding.
Emily gathered her things and stuffed them into her bag just as her cell rang. Her heart couldn’t help skipping as she shoved a file off it and read the name.
Reeve.
She fumbled to pick up the phone, and took a deep breath before she pushed the ACCEPT button.
“Hello,” she said, immediately hating the way it had come out. Too timid. But she hadn’t wanted to sound put out.
“Hey, Whip. How are you?”
She nearly melted there on the spot. How had she found the desire to walk out on this man? Fear. That’s what it had been. Fear of this feeling she felt right now, which was needing someone else. Fear that another person controlled her happiness or contentment.
“I’m good. Just leaving work. You?” Pulling her office door closed, she headed for the stairwell, not wanting to risk losing reception in the elevator.
“Little late for a Friday, isn’t it? No hot date tonight?”
“No. I’m not one for hot dates.”
“Ah. Just hot one-nighters, huh?”
“Well, if you want the truth, I’m not usually one for those, either.”
“No? Could have fooled me. But I can’t say I’m not glad to hear it. I’m happy to keep that part of you all to myself.”
She stopped at the bottom of the staircase and closed her eyes. She had never wanted anything more than to feel his hands on her right now. The calm way he teased made her entire body warm and languid.
“How about meeting me somewhere for dinner?”
Emily’s eyes sprang open. His tone had gotten a little serious, almost as if he wasn’t sure she would accept his invitation. She bit at her lip before finally answering.
“Maybe.”
He huffed out a laugh and she smiled in response. “Okay, what do I need to do, beg? Because if you recall, you’ve required a lot of coercion on my part, woman.”
She was still smiling, completely unoffended by the use of woman as a term of . . . endearment? It felt like one, although from anyone else’s lips she’d have hated it.
“I don’t know if I’d say a lot of coercion.”
“Okay, more than I’m used to.”
Emily left the stairwell and headed across the lobby. Ted, in charge of the night cleaning crew, waved at her and she waved back, knowing he’d lock up behind her and set the alarm. Focusing back on her conversation, she walked out into the warm night.
“So what you’re saying is that you’re used to women falling at your feet. Is that it?”
“Well, they don’t literally fall, but . . .”
Emily laughed and pushed the UNLOCK button on her car key fob. She was about to respond but he cleared his throat on the other end and got quiet for a moment. Doing the same, she stopped and waited to hear what he had to say.
“Look, I know you wanted to put us hooking up in a box and label it. But . . . I kind of can’t stop thinking about you. And to be honest, that’s another thing I’m not really used to.”
Emily licked her lips and breathed in deep. “Are you trying to make me feel special?”
“I am, yeah. Is it working well enough for you to say yes?”
“Maybe.” She placed her bag in the passenger seat.
“That’s better than no, I guess. So, how about I head over to Bourbon and Baker, sit at the bar, and maybe . . . I’ll see you there.”
“Maybe you will,” she said, going for flirty but knowing that wasn’t really one of her strengths.
“Bye, Whip.”
There was a smile in his voice, and then the line went dead. Emily glanced down at her work outfit. Not too bad. She’d worn one of her favorites today, a jersey wrap dress that was navy with cream-colored polka dots. If she removed her beige blazer it transformed into something a little more flirty and casual. Completely doable.
Tossing the blazer into the backseat, Emily got in and then pulled out of the parking lot onto the highway to the other side of town. Bourbon and Baker was a nice place. Not stuffy, a little hipster, but it had a great atmosphere. She’d treated the board to a meal there after meetings a couple of times.
Her grandfather and her father had been passionate about taking care of their employees, from the CFO all the way down to the teenage kid who popped popcorn on a Saturday night. She’d witnessed their compassion and generosity over and over, which she tried so hard to implement in their stead.
More than once she’d heard her father talk about how you had to take care of your employees if you expected them to take care of your company. That made sense to Emily, completely. Her grandfather arranged for discounts with at least one daycare center in every town where they had a theater. After meeting Cheyanne in Omaha, a young single mom working at the theater part-time while she went to school in the evenings, Emily had decided to go one better. She paid half of the childcare expense, and even turned two rooms on the lower level of the corporate office into an infant center so mothers could bring their babies to work with them for the first six months.
She’d continued the tradition of the LAM annual charity golf tournament, raising money for l
ocal children’s services and—one of her grandfather’s favorite causes—annual scholarships. For any office employee’s child graduating from high school with a GPA of 3.85 or above, LAM awarded them a ten-thousand-dollar scholarship. Last year she’d been happy to give three teenagers that honor at their summer picnic.
Up until the general, the men in Emily’s life had valued intelligence. Praised and celebrated it. Well, to be fair, the general expected all men to be intelligent; if they weren’t he considered them worthless, sort of how he felt about intelligent women. He’d never said a thing when Emily was inducted into the National Honor Society, although her mother had been proud. She was valedictorian of her high school, and he hadn’t even given her a simple “Congratulations.” She didn’t need his respect, but she hated so much that her mother was okay with such a cold man in her daughter’s life. That had always stung.
Pulling into the Bourbon and Baker, Emily parked in the crowded lot behind the building and then quickly touched up her lipstick and fluffed her hair a bit before getting out of her car. Her heels scuffed against the asphalt as she picked up her pace.
“You must really be excited to see someone.”
Knowing that sexy voice well, she stopped and slowly turned. Reeve walked toward her, hands in the pockets of his dark jeans. God, he looked amazing. He wore a light-blue-and-white plaid button-up and a large metal watch on his wrist. She was pretty sure he’d also put a touch of product in his hair, although it still looked a bit mussed.
He stopped in front of her and she smiled. “I was just in a hurry to get inside because I’m hungry, and I love their strawberry bruschetta.”
Reeve laughed and shook his head before looking her up and down. “You look amazing.”
Emily knew she was blushing, and she was also aware this was one of the few times they’d looked at each other fully dressed in daylight, although even now it was fading as the sun slipped past the trees. That was enough, though, to highlight the fact that his eyes were the most beautiful shade of blue.
“Thank you, as do you. I like this shirt.” This close to him, she couldn’t help sliding her fingers under the placket of his shirt, her thumb rubbing on a button. She glanced up to find him watching her movements. “It matches your eyes.”
His faint, lazy smile nearly melted her on the spot. He gently grabbed her hand and pulled her out of the way of a vehicle that wanted to back out of its parking spot. The motion brought her against his body and crushed their chests together.
“Just for sweet-talking me, Whip, I’ll buy you as much strawberry toast as your sexy little heart desires.”
“Strawberry bruschetta.”
“Whatever you say.”
He didn’t let go of her hand as they headed around the buildings and made their way down the row of Poyntz Avenue shops until they reached the front door of the restaurant. Reeve opened it without letting go of her and Emily slipped in, immediately inhaling the scent of food and bourbon. They didn’t linger in the doorway like the rest of those waiting; instead Reeve led her through the narrow and crowded restaurant toward the back. A man behind the bar waved at them and nodded toward a cozy booth in the corner.
When they reached it Emily put her hand on her hip. “You said you’d be waiting at the bar in case I maybe showed up, but this has premeditated written all over it.”
Reeve laughed as he motioned for her to sit down, which she did. He sat down on the opposite seat and leaned onto the table. “What can I say, I had a good feeling about you. And I know the bartender—he works for me during the day.”
“Oh really? That’s nice.” She wondered if it was odd she didn’t come back with a question about his job, but she knew if she did he’d ask her questions in return. She was not ready to talk about the fact that she owned a big company. Especially when it was one he’d just done a twenty-thousand-dollar project for.
Once they were seated and comfortable, worry crept into her thoughts. What in the world would they talk about this evening? She was going to have to come clean. Reeve surprised her by speaking first, his voice low.
“Before we get too far, here . . . there’s something I want to tell you.” He glanced down at his hands and then fiddled with the watch on his wrist. When he looked back up at her she could see the hesitation in his expression.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Everything about Emily was warm and open tonight, from the expression on her face all the way to the neckline on her dress, which was giving him the most amazing peek of cleavage. That could all change on a dime after she heard what he was about to tell her. She could close down, get angry. Possibly leave.
There was no choice for it, because he liked this woman, and he wouldn’t continue trying to pursue her while being dishonest. He took pride in his years of service, past and current. It was one of the few things he was proud of, and he couldn’t imagine being with a woman that didn’t share that pride. So this was it.
He looked into her eyes.
“I like you, Emily.”
Her teeth bit into her bottom lip and her eyes darted toward the center of the room. It could mean many things. She was nervous, uncomfortable . . . she didn’t feel the same. Either way, he needed to get this out.
“I wanted to see you tonight just to see if there was anything between us beyond the physical.”
She nodded, and began to fiddle with a shiny bracelet on her wrist, but Reeve would not allow her obvious hesitance to dissuade him.
“However.” He paused and her eyes flashed to his. “I need to be completely honest with you. I am a military guy and I know . . . well, I know you had a problem with that.”
He waited for her reaction, surprised when there wasn’t really a change in her expression. “I know.”
“You know?” How, was the only thing running through his mind.
“That morning your mother called. You walked to the bathroom and—”
“My tattoo.” How had he forgotten about that?
She gave a weak smile.
“Damn.” Reeve leaned back against the booth and blew out a breath. “Is that why you left?”
“Yes. That was childish of me. I should have at least said something to you, but . . .”
“No, what should have happened was that I should have just told you from the beginning. But I have to admit, I really wanted to get you home.” He grinned, relieved when she laughed. God, it felt good to get this all out into the open.
“Yeah, we might not be here right now if you’d been honest that first night.” She made an odd face after that comment. Something he couldn’t quite decipher.
“So you knew that day, and yet you drunk texted me last Saturday.”
She let out a little groan and looked up at the ceiling. “I wasn’t that drunk.”
“Even better. You did it knowing and willingly.”
“Okay, I was drunk enough to alter my ability to make wise choices, but sober enough to know that I was making them.”
“I’m glad you did. It was killing me that I couldn’t track your ass down.”
A server came by and took their drink order. Reeve stared at Emily as she ordered her strawberry bruschetta—which he had his doubts about, and he chose a couple of other small plates for them to share.
“So you’re a marine?” she asked when they were alone again.
“Sort of. I enlisted the minute I turned eighteen. Served for ten years, deployed six times.”
“Wow. That’s quite a sacrifice.”
He shrugged. “It was good for me. Tough, but good. Once my time was up I didn’t know what to do with myself. I’d been overseas off and on for my entire adult life. Coming back, trying to become a civilian . . . it’s difficult.”
“How?” She seemed genuinely interested.
“Well, first of all it’s a completely different way of life. You can be a witness to some crazy shit in the military. Watch your friends die or lose limbs. You see horrible things, sometimes you even do horrible things. It’s easy
to develop some pretty serious issues. Depression, guilt, nightmares. Overall I’m pretty lucky but . . . shit, I’m sorry.” He looked up at her, noticing her wide concerned eyes. “I didn’t mean to get so deep.”
“No, please. My stepfather, he shows no weakness when it comes to his service. It’s kind of nice to see a marine be . . . real. Vulnerable.”
He stared at her, nodded. “When you’re deployed, you’re constantly surrounded by men—and women—that get it. They’re living the same life you are. Same stress, same fears, same routine. You have missions and responsibilities. At night you go to sleep surrounded by your unit so then when you come back home and everyone scatters around the country and you’re alone . . . well, that can be tough. Especially when you don’t have a family to come home to. It’s lonely. I didn’t think it would be, but it is.”
“You have your mother, right? She called the other day.”
“I have a mother, yes, but that’s not necessarily the same thing as having somewhere to go.” Especially in his case. He’d done whatever he could to get out of his mother’s home and he’d had no interest in ever moving back in. Reeve assumed his response would invite her to ask him uncomfortable questions, but thankfully she didn’t.
“No, it’s not.”
“So anyway, yeah, leaving active duty is difficult. I was home awhile, working with a friend from high school. Then another friend—a fellow marine—told me he was joining the Army National Guard. At first I thought, no way am I joining the fucking army.” He laughed, thinking to himself. “Marines can be a little arrogant. I’m sure living with a general, you know that.”
She smiled. “You have no idea.”
“I bet. After I thought about it awhile, talked to some people, I decided it might be a good idea to join. I don’t regret it. I can still live a civilian life, work, have time off, and yet still be part of a team. Feel like I’m part of something. Plus, the extra money and benefits are nice.”
All I Ask Page 14
