Surrender: A Little Harmless Military Romance Page 2

  She brushed that thought aside and dropped the first of the scallops into the pan. She had let the oil get too hot and it popped up onto her hand.

  "Dammit."

  Mal grabbed it. "Are you okay?"

  "Yeah, just a little burn, nothing big."

  He pulled her over to the sink. "You should be more careful."

  His brow was furrowed as he studied her flesh before turning on the cold water and thrusting her hand under it.

  "Mal, it's okay."

  He looked up at her, and she realized that she was only inches away from him.

  "Uh..."

  He didn't finish. She didn't blame him. Her brain wasn't working too well, either. She could smell that unique musky scent of him as she drew in a big breath. Her breast brushed against his arm, and he shuddered.

  He dropped her hand like she had a disease then turned off the water.

  "You should put some cream on that hand."

  Her body was still throbbing, her nipples tightened almost to the point of pain, and he was asking her to do something. Her brain would just not allow it. Not right now. It seemed to have stalled on the way his fingers had felt gliding over hers as he'd slipped her hand under the water.

  She grabbed a towel and pressed it against her skin. She didn't really think she needed first aid cream, but she did need space.

  "Could you keep an eye on those scallops. Turn down the heat to low while I get some cream."

  He nodded and stepped out of her way. By the time she reached the bathroom, her heart was almost beating normally again. She closed the door, then leaned back against it. Holy mother of God. What the hell was that? She'd had a crush on him that she'd kept under wraps for a while. Mal was a military man, and since she’d lost her husband, she had made sure that she'd steered clear of them. It wasn't something she ever wanted to go through again.

  She pulled herself together and pushed away from the door, rummaging through her medicine cabinet to find the cream. She shut the mirrored door and looked up at herself. Her face was flushed, and she could even see her pulse fluttering in her neck.

  Dammit! She needed to keep away from him from now on.

  But even the thought had her heart breaking. She couldn't think of being far away from him even if she wasn't romantically involved with him. She knew women who liked the thrill and would jump from military man to military man. Some even specialized in career fields like pilots or Seals. She had never been that kind of woman. In fact, even with her husband, she had avoided it. Kyle had been military through and through, and not in the best of ways. To this day, she hadn’t told a soul about what she had discovered while he had been away on that last mission. She had been too embarrassed. After that experience, she wanted nothing to do with military in the romantic way. It was hard to avoid altogether when she still had two active duty brothers and a retired general father.

  She splashed some water on her face and then blotted it dry. This was just one night, one dinner. She owed Mal this home cooked meal after all he had done for her. She could get through this night and then maybe all this sexual tension she felt would disappear.

  She opened the door and walked down the hall. When she turned the corner into the kitchen, the scene caught her completely off guard. Mal was standing at the stove, expertly flipping over the scallops. It shouldn’t turn her on so much, but seeing him do something so mundane, so…normal, was arousing. He glanced at her and smiled, and her stomach didn’t just quiver, it did a somersault.

  Oh, mama, she was in trouble.

  Chapter Two

  Mal was happy when dinner went by without incident. It was easy to concentrate just on the food. For a guy who grew up in a family of chefs, it was hard to be impressed by others’ cooking.

  "So you aren't liking the Pentagon work?"

  He shrugged. He'd been asked that enough from friends and family. It was as if they expected him to either say he loved it or hated it. At the moment, other than the usual problems, he just missed being in the field training.

  "Too many people, too much drama. They run on a forty-eight hour day, or it seems that way."

  She laughed, and he felt his heart soften. She was a woman who should always laugh. It made her eyes sparkle and her whole body shine.

  And he was not supposed to be thinking about that.

  "Dad talked about his first day there. He was walking in from the metro station and some guy fell down, had a heart attack. Dad and one other guy stopped. Everyone else just kept on walking."

  "But he stayed at the Pentagon for a long time."

  Now she shrugged. "He wanted a star. He wanted all four at one time."

  "What happened?"

  She took a sip of wine then set the glass down on the table. "Once he got his first star, the gold lost its shine. He had his second when mom was diagnosed with breast cancer. He said it made him realize that the next two stars didn't mean crap without her by his side, so he resigned his commission and retired."

  "Oh, I didn't know your mother had been sick."

  She gave him a surprised look. "How could you? I was in high school."

  "She's doing fine now?"

  She smiled. "Yeah, remission for years, but their slower pace life has something to do with it, I'm sure. So what are you going to do when they give you a permanent job at the Pentagon?"

  He shook his head. He wasn’t sure he was cut out for the Pentagon, but he had seen the knowing looks from others.

  "This job is only temporary."

  She snorted and picked up her glass again.

  "What?" he asked.

  "Take your head out of the sand, Seal. They're grooming you."

  He felt his belly tighten. Mal had been worried about that. Especially after he talked to his supervisor.

  "I don't think so."

  "You made O-4 early, right? And no offense, but you have an excellent record, a masters, and the big thing, you're an African-American. You are too much for all those stars to resist in the Pentagon."

  "So, you're telling me I should become a fuck up?"

  She laughed like he’d hoped. He didn't want to worry about the future, about whatever plans they might have for him. Right now, all he cared about was keeping her happy. Forever.

  Whoa, buddy, back the hell up. That wasn't his job. That was some other nameless, faceless asshole's job.

  Dammit. He shoved those thoughts aside and tried to change the subject.

  "How are your brothers doing?"

  "Fine. Dylan is enjoying his time at the Pentagon, which I think makes him crazy. Brent is at Fort Jackson now. And our black sheep, Seth the chef, is living down in Atlanta. He's opening his new place in a couple of weeks. How's everything going with yours? I haven't heard from Nate in a while."

  That caused him to pause, the beer bottle halfway to his mouth. "Nate? As in my brother Nate?"

  She nodded. "I was down in New Orleans, and we went out."

  He was trying to come to terms with the fact that Amanda had gone out with his younger brother Nathaniel, self-described confirmed bachelor who slept with every pretty woman he could talk into bed. And he could talk a lot of them into bed.

  "Why wasn't I told?"

  Her brow furrowed. "What do you mean? What was I supposed to tell you? I was in town, looked Shannon up, and the three of them were going out to eat. I went with them when they invited me."

  "Oh." That sounded okay.

  "The next night we did the town up right."

  That had his temper boiling. "Really?"

  She nodded, apparently completely oblivious to his reaction. Hell, he didn't know what his reaction was. It was...uncomfortable. He was sure the death grip he had on the bottle might break it, so he set it down.

  "Yeah. You know when Kyle and I went there for our honeymoon, we couldn't do a lot of bars. I wasn't old enough, and well, you know that we didn't have enough money for stuff like that."

  Of course they hadn't. Kyle had just come into the military, barely an
O-2, and they didn’t make a lot of money.

  "I had no idea there were so many bars. I mean, definitely, it's New Orleans, so I expected a lot, but they are all packed in there tight." She laughed. "And they all knew Nate. But I bet a lot of them know all of the Duprees. The funniest part of the night was running into one of his old girlfriends. Your brother really doesn't know how to handle a woman who confronts him about being a mimbo."

  "A mimbo?" he asked, his brain trying to keep up with her rundown. He was still trying to come to grips with the thought that she had spent so much time with his brother and no one had thought fit to tell him.

  "You know, he sleeps around a lot. He's like the male version of a bimbo."

  He chuckled and something loosened in his chest—something he knew was embarrassingly close to jealousy. It was stupid the way he was behaving. He knew they were emotions and most people would dismiss them. For him, though, it was unusual.

  "That's Nathaniel."

  "Well, the girl was so upset with him because apparently he said he'd call as soon as he got into town, and of course he didn't. He claimed he forgot."

  She stood and started to clear the table. He watched the way her chestnut hair fell forward. It looked so soft he wanted to touch it, to feel it slip through his fingers.

  Instead, he stood and helped her with the dishes.

  "You staying somewhere in town, I take it?"

  He shrugged. "They actually gave me a room over in Crystal City at a hotel. It's considered a Temporary Duty."

  She shook her head. "Fraud, waste, and abuse."

  He laughed. "It was cheaper than moving someone here."

  "That's true," she said, finishing off their plates. He went back to the table and brought the rest of the dishes. He returned just in time to see her bend over the dishwasher. He almost dropped the dishes he was carrying. Lord, the woman had an ass on her. Full, but not too full, and he knew she was a walker, someone who exercised on a regular basis. He could just imagine what it would feel like to smack his hand against the firm flesh.

  Take a step back, Dupree. Not yours. Too young, too innocent, too many problems.

  He set the dishes down on the counter with a clatter. She jumped and turned around.

  “Sorry,” he mumbled and took a step back.

  “No worries.”

  She apparently hadn’t noticed his reaction. He rolled his shoulders, trying to get his mind off her and the way she would look if he bent her over the table to flog her.

  Shit. His cock twitched at the thought, his brain draining of any remaining blood.

  “I better head off.”

  She glanced up. Her eyes were filled with surprise then resignation, which he didn’t understand.

  “Of course.” She shut the dishwasher and dried off her hands. He wanted to say something more, something to ease the tension that now rose between them. It had never been like this, and hell, he would rather have the sexual tension back. Now, though, he could feel something else in the air, something that felt like disgust. He wanted to do something to change it, but he didn’t know how. Hell, he didn’t even know what he did wrong.

  He couldn’t let the evening end this way. “Is there something wrong?”

  She shook her head and sighed. “Just a million things on my mind for tomorrow. She’s kind of a bridezilla, so I’ll have my hands full.”

  Of course, it had nothing to do with him. She was a woman with a full life, one that didn’t include a man who was too old for her and had sexual needs a woman like her would never understand.

  She walked him to the door in silence, and he hated it. They had never had this issue before. She opened the door and offered him a soft, tired smile. It was then that he saw the violet smudges under her eyes and realized she hadn’t been getting sleep.

  “Are you getting enough rest? The insomnia isn’t back, is it?”

  She looked surprised and shook her head. “No. Just been a long week. Once this wedding is over, I’m going to sleep all day on Sunday.”

  He nodded. He moved closer, then realized he was going to kiss her. He stopped himself just short of embarrassment.

  “Goodnight, Amanda.”

  “Night, Mal.”

  She shut the door, and he waited until he heard the locks slide into place. With more than just a few regrets, he headed to his car.

  * * * *

  Amanda sighed as she watched the bride and father walk down the aisle together.

  “Feeling melancholy?” Addy asked from beside her.

  She glanced at her business partner and shook her head. “Naw. Well, a little. This time there is more relief.”

  Addy slung her arm over Amanda’s shoulders. “Don’t be sad. You’ll have a real wedding one of these days.”

  But she wouldn’t. She knew it better than anyone, but she never argued with Addison Mahler. Amanda knew she wouldn’t win.

  “What do you say we clean up right now so when the ceremony is done, we can run away?” Addy said.

  Amanda nodded and followed her back to the bride’s room. They were an odd couple of friends. Addison had grown up in the wealth of DC, a daughter of a federal judge and the niece of a former attorney general. You would never know it by looking at her. From the top of her spikey purple hair—that was the color this week—down to the grunge clothing, she was the antithesis of DC upper class.

  “She wasn’t so bad today,” Addy said. “I thought it was going to be horrible after the way she was all the way up to the wedding.”

  “There was a little stress inside the family.”

  Addy nodded. “I know. We both understand having a mother diagnosed with breast cancer, but still. She attacked my choice of hair color a few weeks ago.”

  “It was green. And not just green, but neon green.” Amanda picked up some of the boxes they had brought the flowers over in. “Plus, I think she was worried her mother wouldn’t be here for the ceremony. She lost an aunt just two years ago to breast cancer.”

  Addy stopped in gathering up the equipment. “Oh, I didn’t know that. Well, that makes sense. Still, there was nothing wrong with my green hair. And, to be nice, I dyed it purple to match her bridesmaid dresses.”

  Amanda chuckled. “She did thank you.”

  “Not our worse, huh? I think our worst would be that Denise Charles. It was hard not to run down the aisle and rescue the groom.”

  “They just got divorced.”

  She smiled. “Oh, see, I could have saved him a lot of money.”

  They finished packing away their supplies and headed out to the van. “What do you have on tap tonight? Why don’t we go clubbing?”

  “Addy, I don’t know how you do it. All day at work and out at night. And worse, I’m five years younger than you.”

  “So that’s a no, right?” she asked. “You have no social life.”

  They were walking up the path to the church. “I have a social life.”

  “You can’t count these functions as a social life, even if you go to the reception afterward. Are we going to this one?”

  She hadn’t thought about it. They’d made the arrangements and they usually went and checked, but they had worked with the reception hall before, and it wasn’t part of the contract. Amanda had thought a hot soak in the tub sounded heavenly, but now going back to her little apartment didn’t hold the same appeal.

  “I heard they were going to have shrimp.”

  Addy glanced at her. Four inches taller than Amanda, her best friend could eat just about anything. It was disgusting, and if she didn’t love her like the sister she never had, she would hate her.

  “You don’t say.”

  Amanda shrugged. “Yeah.”

  “Is there some reason you don't want to go home?"

  Addy was a little too smart for her own good. From the moment they met in a survivor's support group, they had hit it off. Addison's older brother had been killed by a roadside bomb in Iraq, and Amanda had been dealing with the repercussions of the death
of her husband and the lies he left behind.

  "Nope. I just think a nice big meal, then a relaxing night in is just what I need."

  "You did that last night. I know you went to bed before ten."

  Of course she had. She hadn't had much sleep because images of Mal looking at her with heat in his eyes had kept her awake all night. She had never seen that look on his face before and it made her...burn.

  "Ohhhh, what's his name?"

  She glanced at Addy and saw the interested look in her eyes. Dammit. "What do you mean by that?"

  "You got a dreamy look on your face, and I have never seen that look on your face. Well, except when you talked about going to the Netherlands for the tulip shows. Did you hook up? Come on, tell me."

  She sighed. "I did not hook up and there was no dreamy look on my face. Mal was over last night for dinner."

  "Dupree? You had him over for dinner? And you didn't invite me?"

  She chuckled. "It was by accident. We bumped into each other at Wegmans."

  Addy let out a little sigh of pleasure. "Wegmans. Wait, let me think about that place for a sec." She stopped walking, closed her eyes and hummed. "I love that place."

  "Yes, I know you have an abnormal attachment to Wegmans."

  "There is nothing abnormal about it. So you bumped into him, and then how did he end up sponging a meal off you?"

  "I invited him."

  There was a beat of silence. "You invited him over on a Friday night?"

  "Yeah. You should have seen what he was eating. Some kind of wings or something, it was disgusting. And I was in the mood for scallops--"

  "You made your pan seared scallops and didn't invite me?" Addy asked, pouting again. “I can’t believe you did that.”

  "You had a date last night."

  "Oh yeah, he was boring. And definitely not a Seal I have a crush on."

  "You have a crush on Mal?"