Advance to the Rear (Strike Force Book 3) Page 4

  She’d giggled. ‘Me, neither.’

  ‘But I want to. With you.’ He’d hesitated. ‘If you want to, that is.’

  This time she’d laughed for real. ‘Look at us. You’d think we were too horny teenagers trying to act like adults. And you got nothing out of this tonight. I got all the pleasure.’

  ‘Making you feel good was enough pleasure for me. Besides, I don’t have any condoms with me. I stopped carrying them the day I got divorced.’

  ‘Well, I don’t have any, either. Haven’t kept them for a long time.’

  He’d shaken his head. ‘This will never do. Listen, tomorrow I have to leave again for another mission. But when I get back, we’re going to see where this goes. For real. Okay?’

  He’d held his breath when she’d just sat there for a moment. Then she’d nodded.

  ‘Okay,’ she’d told him in a soft voice. ‘I’d like that.’

  Marc swallowed a smile as the scene replayed in his head. For the first time since he’d crawled into his black hole, he was actually looking forward to the company of a woman. He’d check with Slade and see when they were up next. Maybe Nikki could get some time off and they could get away somewhere. Someplace isolated and secluded, where it would just be the two of them and a chance to see if what they had was the beginning of something good.

  God, how he’d wanted to bury himself in her wet heat. Feel her clench around his cock rather than his fingers. But maybe the lack of condoms had been a good thing. They’d gone from zero to sixty with no warm-up. They both needed to make sure this was not a mistake.

  He wasn’t yet ready to look into the future by any means, but one day at a time? Better than he’d been in a long time.

  He just hoped no loose ends from their mission came back to bite them all in the ass.

  Chapter Two

  Nikki Alvarez tossed her empty coffee cup into the trash and headed to her locker to retrieve her purse. Today had seemed endless, an unusual situation for her. Usually she immersed herself one hundred percent in her patients and their care. ICU was demanding, allowing her to hold on to her sanity and make it from one day to the next. She had tried not to fidget during the change-of-shift report, but she wanted to get home, shower and try to get her collective shit together. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been in a hurry to leave work. At least here she had the security of the familiar and the sense of Jon’s continued presence. At home there was only emptiness and the eternal sense of tremendous loss.

  But now, for the first time in more than a year, she actually had something to look forward to. Okay, so it was a text, then maybe a call. But she hadn’t even had those in what seemed forever, except from her sister, who kept trying to pull her out of her year-long depression. She had shut everyone else out of her life. No one had been able to understand her guilt and she was tired of trying to explain it. And too often she wondered why they didn’t agree with her.

  Marc was the first person she’d opened up to. Somehow the whole story had come tumbling out. Jon’s illness, which he’d blown off twice as the flu. The night he’d coughed up blood and she’d insisted on taking him to the emergency room. The awful diagnosis of lung cancer, too advanced at that point for surgery. The chemo and radiation that he’d finally insisted on stopping, telling her the pain wasn’t worth it.

  All those months when she’d continued to work her shifts in ICU and spend the rest of her time in his hospital room. Blaming herself for not insisting he go to the doctor before it became acute. The agony of having watched him die a little at a time, finally only kept alive by drugs and an IV to hydrate him. And the night he’d gone to sleep and never woken up. Every time she remembered it, her heart ached so badly she wanted to cut it out of her body.

  For so very long, he’d been the only man in her thoughts, even though he had been gone for more than a year now. Did she feel guilty? Of course, but now that guilt had shifted to a different level. She had met a man who could pull her out of her depression because of his own situation. He didn’t rant at her or tell her to get a life. He sympathized and empathized and understood what being in a dark place was like.

  Lately, in moments when she was alone, she pulled out the memories of the three nights they’d spent together and analyzed every detail. That first night, the one when they’d met, when he’d practically tripped over her at the Huttons’ party, she’d been such an abysmal mess she wondered why he hadn’t just run off as fast as he could. There she’d sat, huddled against that tree, blubbering all over herself. He’d been so nice, even gentle with her. She’d figured he’d take a look at what a disaster she was and head back inside, leaving her to her troubles. But he had been sensitive and caring, and had listened for hours while she’d vented all her grief and the blame she shouldered.

  When he’d told her the details of his own story, she’d realized she wasn’t the only one in a very dark place. She could not imagine having gone through what he had. What an absolute piece of trash his ex-wife was. He deserves someone so much better. Could that someone be me? It shocked her that the thought even rattled around in her brain. She was barely beginning to heal herself.

  She was so out of practice in this kind of situation. Three years with Jon that included the long stretch of his illness, followed by a year of mourning she hadn’t been able to snap herself out of. She’d been so grateful for Marc that night.

  She was stunned she’d even connected with the man. In the year since Jon had died, she’d had no interest in even talking to other men. Instead she’d wrapped herself in her misery and guilt, preferring that to taking a chance on another relationship that she didn’t feel she deserved. Or, in fact, even had anything left to give to one. But some little spark had flared.

  When he’d asked in a very tentative voice if he could see her again while he was on leave, she’d shocked herself at the speed with which she’d said yes. She’d had no idea what they would do or what would happen. From then until the next time they were together, she’d spent much of her time battling a bad case of nerves.

  How amazing that the two of them had clicked the way they had. She figured it was the blending of two shattered souls seeking comfort from maybe the one other person who could understand where they were in their life.

  They’d spent two more nights together, one of them turning into more intense hours of learning about each other. Talking until the sun came up about anything and everything. Telling each other things they’d kept bottled up forever. Hours that had created an invisible bond, fragile but still there.

  But then that last night together. Wow! One minute they’d been talking, the next she’d been cuddled against him and he was kissing the life out of her and using his clever hands to give her one of the best organs she’d ever had. She was still embarrassed when she thought about how fast he’d been able to make her come. And how unselfish he was. They’d been like unprepared kids, neither of them with condoms, and he had refused to let her return the favor and use her hands and mouth on him.

  ‘I want the real thing,’ he’d told her. ‘I can wait.’

  They’d fallen asleep on the couch, her body nestled into the curve of his shoulder, clothes still askew and his arm wrapped around her so one hand could cup her breast. There had been a few awkward moments in the morning, but then Marc had gotten a call on his cell that his leave had been cut short by a couple of days. Nikki had had to work so Teo had driven up from the ranch to fetch him. They’d been scheduled wheels up that afternoon.

  Since then she’d parsed and analyzed every moment they were together until she could have written it as a script for a movie. There was something about Marc, about the situation, that reached into her and pulled her out of the darkness she’d chosen to stay in for so long. She tried not to get too excited about it. Maybe, she thought, it was just two wounded souls finding a place to dump the pain they lived with. Besides, he was a warrior, dedicated to serving his country. When he had finally told her he was with Delta Force, even s
he realized what a commitment that was. Maybe grasping that all of this might prevent them from looking at something long-term was what made things easier for her.

  But, lord! That one little bit of erotic playtime had her body still humming with need. Okay, then. Whatever this turned out to be, she’d just enjoy their time together then try taking the rest of her life one day at a time.

  ‘I don’t know when I’ll be able to call you,’ he’d said as he waited for his ride. ‘We’ll be in mission protocol for most of the time and I don’t have any way to communicate. Not until we’re between missions.’

  ‘It’s okay,’ she’d assured him. ‘I understand. Please don’t worry about it.’

  She wanted him to take pleasant memories of her into battle, not the sounds of a nagging shrew. Deep down, she wasn’t even sure she’d hear from him again, anyway. Still, she couldn’t seem to stop him from invading her dreams every night, remembering the feel of his tall, lean, muscular body, the thick strands of his hair the color of ripe tobacco and the look of heat in eyes that reminded her of warm whiskey. She guessed if all she had were dreams she’d find a way to make do with them.

  Briefing for mission. Out of contact. Take care.

  She’d stared at it for ten minutes. Was she supposed to answer him? When he’d left her that last time they’d made no promises at all. She’d hoped that maybe…possibly…

  Then this morning another text, one that caused her heart to do tiny flips.

  Mission accomplished. Can I call tonight?

  She’d hugged the phone to her breast for ten minutes before answering him. She’d felt like a teenager, and wasn’t that just too ridiculous? She’d reminded herself she was a grown woman, albeit one who had shut herself off from everything but work. Jon’s death had taken all the pleasure out of life for her. So how was it possible she’d had such a hot episode with Marc Blanchard the other night? And was looking forward to a stupid phone call like a teenager?

  For one moment, she’d felt a stab of disloyalty to Jon and had even considered texting Marc and telling him not to contact her anymore. But then she could almost hear her sister’s voice in her mind, telling her it was time to get on with her life. Could she do this? So many emotions had swirled inside her. Then she’d swallowed and typed a message.

  Yes. Home at eight o’clock.

  She was working the seven-to-seven shift, three days on and four days off, and had wanted to give herself plenty of time to get home and be ready.

  Ready? For a phone call? He wouldn’t even be able to see her. She must be losing it. Truly.

  And what if he’s only calling to say hello and how are you and that’s it?

  Really? After the intimate moment we shared?

  Have a little faith, Nikki.

  She walked into her apartment at a quarter to eight, just enough time for her to shower and change.

  Shower? Change? Good lord. This was a phone call, nothing more.

  But what if he wanted to FaceTime?

  Ohmigod. I’m driving myself crazy.

  Nevertheless, she dumped her scrubs in the hamper, showered and changed into shorts and a tee, and pulled her hair back in a ponytail. She seldom wore makeup and Marc had commented he liked her without it. Okay, then. She got a glass of iced water and settled herself in the armchair in the living room. She was ready, phone in one hand, water in the other.

  When her phone buzzed at her, vibrating in her hand, she nearly dropped the water. Setting the glass down on the end table, she punched the Answer button on the phone.

  “Hello?”

  “Nikki?” His voice was just as deep and rugged as she remembered.

  “It’s me.” Wow. Brilliant comeback, Nikki. “I mean, yes, and hi.”

  His laugh had a low, rough, sexy sound to it that sent a shiver through her body.

  “I, uh, called to let you know…” He paused, a note of uncertainty creeping into his tone. “I mean, we’re back from our mission, and…” Another pause.

  Okay, I can do this.

  “Are you coming back to San Antonio?”

  “Yeah, we are.” Another pause. “Listen, Nikki, I—”

  “If you just wanted to let me know you won’t be seeing me, I understand.” She said the words so fast they ran together, but if he was calling to say he wouldn’t be seeing her anymore, then she wanted it out there now. Then she wanted to kick herself. If he didn’t want to see her, why had he even called? Fear and excitement did a rapid tango in her bloodstream.

  “What? Wait. No. Where did that come from?”

  Nikki cleared her throat. “I don’t—I mean—I just—” Damn! Okay, open mouth, insert foot.

  “I, uh, wanted to see what your schedule is and ask if we could get together again.” Another pause. “I thought about you a lot while I was gone.”

  Excitement surged through her and she struggled to maintain her composure. Don’t scare him away, she told herself.

  “I’m working the seven-to-seven shift,” she told him. “I work three days on and four days off. Does that work? When are you due back?”

  “Tomorrow, as a matter of fact. Are you at the beginning of your three days or the end?”

  “The beginning.” Damn! “But two more days and I’ll be off for a week. What did you have in mind?”

  There was a long silence and for a minute she wondered if he was about to think better of this whole thing.

  “I want to ask you something,” he began in a slow voice. “If you think I’m out of line, just let me know and it’s all good. Really.”

  What on earth? She couldn’t imagine what kind of question needed such a setup.

  “Um, okay. Sure. What’s up?”

  “Like I said, feel free to say no, but—”

  She was seized with an urge to reach through the phone and shake him. Enough already.

  “Marc, whatever it is, just say it. No problem. Really.”

  “It’s not bad,” he said in a rapid voice. “I mean, I hope not. I— Oh, hell. I’m so out of practice I forgot how to do this kind of thing.”

  “What kind of thing?” She did her best to keep the exasperation out of her voice.

  “I had an idea,” he said, “and I ran it past Slade, since he knows the area. I wanted someplace to take you without a lot of people around. You know, no crowds. A place where we could be alone and talk and—” His voice dropped. “—anything else that comes to mind. So how much notice do you have to give when you ask for time off at work?”

  What on earth?

  “Depends. Usually a month to six weeks, but—”

  “Damn!”

  “If you let me finish, please. The way I’m set up, I work, let’s say, Sunday, Monday and Tuesday, then I’m off until the following Thursday, Friday and Saturday. So I have a week off in between. Would that work? What are the dates you’re looking at?”

  “The dates are gonna work out just fine. I thought maybe a change of scenery would do both of us good. A new place with no memories for you, a change of environment for me. And we could, uh, see where this goes.”

  A week alone with Marc to explore this thing between them? For a moment her mouth went dry while other parts of her body were suddenly damp and needy.

  “Okay.” She swallowed. “Sounds interesting. So what did Slade suggest?”

  “He’s got a friend who owns a little cottage not too far from San Antonio,” he explained. “Their married kids use it now and then, but no one’s asked for it for the next couple of months. It’s on a small lake that only has a couple of other houses on it.” He chuckled. “It comes with a rowboat. When’s the last time you were in one of those?”

  “Well, um, never, as a matter of fact.”

  “Good. A new experience.” He paused. “There are some interesting restaurants within a half hour of the place, and some other spots we can go exploring if we want. So, uh, what do you think?”

  She didn’t want to think. If she did, she might say no.

  “Yes.” She
blew out a breath. “I say yes.”

  “Whew.” He chuckled. “I was holding my breath the whole time. Okay, listen. I’ve got to run here, but I’ll be back tomorrow. I guess I’ll go to Slade’s and call you from there.”

  Before her brain caught up with her mouth she said, “Why don’t you just come here?”

  “But you said you’ll be working,” he pointed out.

  “No problem. I’m off by seven at night and if you drive me to work you can have a car during the day.” She laughed. “Although you’d have to get up at six to do it.”

  “No sweat. That’s almost like sleeping in. You’re sure this is okay with you?”

  “Yes, it’s fine. More than fine. Where do you land?”

  Did I really say that? Holy shit. Yes, this is me, going from zero to ninety in the blink of an eye.

  “We’re flying commercial. Couldn’t hitch a ride this time, and we’re stuck with a later flight, so we land in San Antonio at seven-thirty tomorrow.”

  “Perfect.” Yes, her mouth was still running away with her. “I’ll pick you up. Text me your flight info.”

  There was a second’s worth of empty air before he spoke again.

  “I just want you to know,” he told her in a low voice, “if this doesn’t work for you, I’m okay with that. I just had the idea that getting away someplace where nobody can bother us would be great to see where this is going.” Another pause, then in a low voice, “Whatever this happens to be.”

  Was he having second thoughts? No, he would have thought it through before making this call. She knew that much after the intense hours they’d spent together. She was sure he was just as confused by the whole thing as she was. Neither of them looking for a relationship—in fact, running away from one—but then, bam! Out of the blue, connecting with another person. She felt pretty sure his nerves were jumping here as much as hers.

  And wasn’t that just a hoot. The macho Delta Force soldier, not afraid of the most dangerous situations, fumbling his way through what was happening between them. But of course, she wasn’t much better.