“I wasn’t sure,” she finally answered, staring back at him, her fingers knotting in the hem of her shirt.
“Your mother helped build the marina.” He turned to her after setting the food on the table. “I wouldn’t take it from you, no matter what happened.”
He hooked his thumbs in the pockets of his jeans, watching her with those eyes. Eyes that stripped her defenses, that sent butterflies crashing to and fro in the pit of her stomach.
She licked her lips, staring back at him. The last thing on her mind now was the business. Nerves clashed as her senses became more heightened; the air in the confines of the craft became heavier, dense with the seductive, subtle scent that was unique to Rowdy.
“I know you wouldn’t, Rowdy.” She cleared her throat, forcing herself to move to the cabinet and the kitchenware there.
As she pulled plates and silverware from where they were held and set the table, Rowdy warmed the food in the microwave, setting it on the table before pulling a bottle of cheap wine from the fridge.
At some point, he had turned on a CD, lowering the volume until the soft, intimate music flowed through the cabin.
“Let’s eat.” The dark throb in his voice was so sexual that the suggestion took on a whole new meaning.
“Eat.” She breathed in slowly. “Okay. We eat.”
EIGHT
As they ate, he told her about the Marines. She knew he was glossing over the harder details, the blood and death he’d seen overseas, the friends he had lost. She knew when he was talking about those friends who were no longer alive to laugh with him. His eyes would darken, his expression becoming reflective.
He told her about the desert, made her laugh at some of the pranks he and his buddies had played on their CO or other soldiers. She saw the beauty of the sun rising over a desert landscape, or the calm tranquillity of the moon rising, with his deep voice and reverent descriptions.
But he had missed home. She heard that in every word. How beautiful the moon glistening off the sand could be, but it didn’t compare to the early morning fog that rose from the lake or the moon slicing a path of golden light across the wet surface.
How he would miss the guys he’d fought with, but he dreamed of slipping off into the mountains and making the homemade moonshine he, Natches, and Dawg often made.
The silence of the desert, the symphony of the forest. He saw the beauty of the land he’d been in, but he knew the treasures to be found in the land he’d grown up in.
“What about women?” She asked the question that plagued her most as he stacked the dishes in the tiny dishwasher and turned back to where she watched him from the table.
She propped her elbow on the table, cupping her chin in her hands as she watched him curiously.
“I wasn’t a saint, baby.” His lips quirked with that sexy little half smile that was trademark Rowdy. “But there was nothing serious. Hasn’t been anyone in a while, actually. What about you?”
He was leaning against the counter, his muscular body relaxed. Well, mostly relaxed. He was hard. She could glimpse the bulge in the front of his jeans from the lower portion of her vision and was dying for a full look.
“No one for me,” she answered with a self-mocking grimace. “I couldn’t get over you. You left and broke my young heart.”
“Better your young heart than my neck,” he grunted. “I was twenty-two-years-old, Kelly. I should have been shot for even looking at you then.” His eyelids lowered. “But it was damned hard not to look. You filled out a pair of shorts almost as good as you fill them out now.”
She felt the flush that rose over her face, her gaze flickering away from him for long moments as she breathed in deeply.
“You know, those loose clothes are going to have to go,” he sighed. “One of my favorite parts of coming home was watching you run around in those snug little shorts and tank tops. Made my dick harder than hell, but it was a sight I sure as hell miss, Kelly.”
Her gaze slammed into his. The green was darker now, his expression heavy with hunger.
“I…” She swallowed tightly. “I’m more comfortable—”
“Bullshit.” The whispered retort was delivered with a knowing smile. “You’re scared. I’m home now, Kelly. Trust me.”
He had promised her, so long ago, as long as he was around, no one would hurt her. It was the bully, she remembered. She was terrified of staying in the park after school while her mother worked, after the bullies had started picking on her. Unless Rowdy was there. He had taken care of her. And sometimes one of the others. If Rowdy couldn’t be there, Dawg or Natches had been.
“Remember when I promised I’d always take care of you?” he whispered. “You were the littlest bit of thing I had ever laid my young eyes on. Those tears on your face when those bullies stole that frippery in your hair made me madder than hell.”
“You saved my hair bows.” She restrained her teasing smile. “And saved Mom a ton of extra money. I loved my hair bows.”
“You still love your hair bows.” He grinned. “I saw them scattered all over your bathroom last night when I got up for a drink. Damned things own your sink counter.”
The style of those pretty hair trifles had changed now. Rather than actual bows there were silver barrettes, glittering little bobby pins, and stylish little doodads he had yet to identify.
She lifted her brows. “They’re pretty though.”
He pushed from the counter, moving with a predatory ease, a shift of bone, muscle, and sinew that had her breath catching in her throat as he walked to the table.
“No.” He reached out, the backs of his fingers smoothing over the side of her face. “You’re pretty. Too damned pretty for those loose clothes. Take them off for me.”
Her eyes widened. “I didn’t bring a change—”
“You have on a bra and panties, I presume?” His fingers wrapped around her wrist, drawing her to her feet. “I bet they cover you better than that damned bathing suit did when you were seventeen.”
The air was suddenly too thick to breathe, her sight dazed, filled with the color of Rowdy’s eyes and the desire she could see glowing in them. Her thighs tightened as she felt the tingle of response racing through her womb, rippling through her vagina.
“I’ll head the boat for the cove,” he whispered. “We could do some swimming, watch the moon rise over the lake. Would you like that, Kelly?”