Diego and I couldn’t make much conversation after that. The club was too loud and he was too busy. So, we kept it to flirtatious glances and suggestive comments. That was fine by me. I knew everything I needed to know—he was either gay or bi, he was into me, and he was game to hook up after closing.
At last call, we exchanged one last sultry look—holy fuck, those eyes—and I left. He’d asked me to wait for him at a diner around the corner, and it only took a minute to find the place. The night was getting seriously fucking cold, and I wanted us to be able to make a quick escape when he caught up with me, but I’d also had a few drinks in pretty rapid succession, so I walked the block or so to the diner.
A handwritten sign on the diner’s door confirmed they were open twenty-four hours, so I went inside. Sleigh bells jingled so loud they could probably be heard from the base, and a waitress with dark circles under her eyes smiled sleepily.
“Just one?” she asked.
“Uh, no. Two. I’m waiting for someone.” Right then, I noticed the sign that said they wouldn’t seat people until the whole party had arrived. “Oh. I can wait if—”
“It’s okay. We ain’t all that busy this time of night.” She pulled two ragged laminated menus from the pocket beside the register and nodded sharply for me to follow her.
I didn’t know if we even needed menus. From the way Diego and I had been looking at each other, dinner or coffee or dessert didn’t seem like necessary steps. That or I was just itching to get him into my bed.
This was his idea, though, and that was after he’d turned me down once. God knew what had changed his mind or how long we’d end up staying here. I wasn’t looking a gift horse in the mouth.
I skimmed over the menu and ordered a Mountain Dew. A little caffeine for the road wouldn’t hurt. I also ordered a piece of cake I didn’t really want just so I’d have something to soak up the alcohol. I was mostly sober by now, but if I was going to drive, I couldn’t be too careful.
While I sipped my soda and nibbled the slab of carrot cake, I looked around the diner. It was a charming little place. That seemed to be the MO of Anchor Point—the “seaside small town” charm was everywhere. This restaurant in particular had a sailboat theme, and I had to give them credit for not being over the top about it. There were some framed paintings on the walls along with some shadowboxes containing various knots. The single cash register was behind an old brass helm someone must polish regularly since I couldn’t see a hint of tarnish.
Maybe it was too soon to decide, but . . . I liked this place. Not just the diner either. I liked Anchor Pont. Time would tell if the small-town charm wore off and got annoying, but for tonight, I liked it. If there was a place in this world where I could make a fresh start after my divorce, this was it. The town was tiny, quiet, and on the opposite coast from Norfolk. Perfect.
Anchor Point even seemed cleaner, though it was entirely possible I just hadn’t focused long enough to see the dirt. Sort of like how a cheap motel could seem perfectly immaculate and respectable, but once the sex was over and the smoke started clearing, it was hard to miss how the wallpaper was curling at the seams and yellowing along the uneven molding. The peeling laminate of the nightstand would let the particle board show through, and the uneven shadows on the ceiling would give away the dust that had been building in the light fixtures for God knew how long. And suddenly I’d realize I was lying in a seedy room with someone I never should have fucked.
Well shit. That train of thought had derailed in a hurry.
I shook myself and took another bite of the carrot cake. Yeah, this town was a good place for the new start I desperately needed.
Sighing, I stared out the window at the neat row of buildings across the street. A couple of shops and a dry cleaner, maybe. The signs were hard to read now that the whole town had rolled up its streets and gone dark for the night.
I’d made a lot of mistakes in my past life, and I’d make more in my new one. At least adultery wouldn’t be one of them this time. I glanced down at my hand and wondered when I’d started thumbing the groove my wedding band had left. Then I looked out the window again.
Even if Anchor Point eventually showed its yellowing edges and dusty fixtures, it was a new start. A chance to get the future right after doing such a number on my past.
My ex-wife had fucked up too, and in a lot of the same ways, and we’d forgiven each other. I wondered if she’d forgiven herself. Next time I talked to her, maybe I’d ask. And if she said yes, maybe she’d tell me how.
Clanging sleigh bells jarred me out of my thoughts, and I looked up just in time to see Diego stride through the front door. He gave me a quick grin, then paused to say something to the waitress. Ordering a Coke, I thought.
While he did that, I looked him up and down. Overhead fluorescents never did anyone any favors, but they were hardly detracting from the hot man I’d met under the bar’s dim lights.
He’d changed into a skintight black T-shirt and was huddled in a deep-brown leather jacket that had obviously seen better days. The hint of pink in his cheeks could have been from the cold outside or some lingering flush from a hot shower. Since his hair was damp and more carefully arranged than before, I assumed it was the latter.
Now he was heading this way, and I was so caught up in ogling him, he was halfway across the restaurant before I noticed he was walking with a limp.
Alarm made me sit up straighter. “You all right?”
He waved a hand, some more color blooming in his cheeks as he slid in across from me. His shoulder moved as he—I assumed—rubbed his knee under the table. “Sore. Been standing too long.”
Oh, that made sense. The thought of standing behind a bar for hours on end made my whole body ache with sympathy.
“Sorry I took so long.” He smiled, and it was sheepish, but somehow still wolfish at the same time. “I wanted to grab a shower.”
“There’s a shower at the bar?”
“Oh yeah.” He waved his hand like that was a perfectly normal thing. “I thought it was weird too until the first time someone puked on me.”
I almost gagged just thinking about it. “Lovely.”
“Part of the job,” he said with a shrug.
Well, if bartending had ever been on my list of potential postretirement jobs, it wasn’t anymore.
Pushing that thought out of my mind, I played with my straw as I watched him from across the shining white table. “So, are we eating something? Or . . .?”
Diego’s grin made me weak. “No. I just didn’t think you’d want to wait outside in the cold while I finished up at work. Besides”—he gestured at my plate—“looks like you beat me to it.”
I shrugged, pushing the crumb-covered plate aside. “Just trying to sober up.”
“You didn’t seem that drunk.”
“No, but I like to have every advantage I can if I’m going to take someone to bed.”
His eyebrows flicked up, but I couldn’t imagine he was more surprised than I was by what I’d said. Or by the fact that we were even here, especially after how things had started tonight.
After the waitress had come by with a soda for him, and we were alone again, I cleared my throat. “So can I ask something personal?”
He nodded.
I hesitated, not sure if I should remind him why he’d rejected me at first tonight, but the curiosity really was getting to me. “What’s the deal with the military?”
He didn’t seem surprised by the question. As he spoke, he closed his hands around his glass. “The Navy fucked me. I’ve been known to hook up with military guys, but very, very rarely.” He laughed bitterly. “I sure as shit don’t date military, and it’ll be a cold day in hell before I’m someone’s dependent.” He spat the last word.
I raised my eyebrows. “Oh.” I wasn’t sure what to say.
Diego shifted in his seat, staring into his soda. “To be honest, I usually won’t even hook up with someone who isn’t a civilian, but tonight . . .” A cautious smile tugged at his full lips. “What can I say? No matter how many times I told myself to keep my hands off because you’re military, I just don’t want to.”
I gulped. “So, you’re not interested in dating me because I’m military, but you’re interested in sleeping with me?”
His smile made my skin tingle. “Nothing personal.” The tip of his tongue darted across his lower lip. “As soon as I said no, I was kicking myself. So when I got another chance, I decided I didn’t want you to get away.”
I studied him for a moment before I laughed softly and shook my head. “I almost feel like I should be offended, but I’m not exactly diving headlong into dating myself. If the only thing we’re going to do is fuck”—I gave him what I hoped came across as an appreciative look—“you won’t hear me bitching.”
Diego’s smile broadened. “So we’re on the same page, yeah?”
“If that page ends with us naked?” I nodded. “Definitely.”
“Then maybe we should get the hell out of here.”
Oh fuck yes.
I nodded with more enthusiasm than I probably should have, but I was beyond trying to play it cool.
Without another word, we got up. I paid at the register, and we headed outside in silence.
This was hands down the weirdest path I’d ever taken from meeting to sleeping together, but at this point, I wasn’t going to argue. He could’ve pitched a November skinny dip in the Pacific, and I’d have gone along with it as long as—once our balls came back down—we wound up in bed.
As we walked through the diner’s mostly empty parking lot, the wind off the Pacific made the night even colder. Now we definitely needed to get someplace else.
“So.” I tried not to let my teeth chatter. “Your place or mine?”
“Yours is probably much nicer than mine. Unless you live on base?”
I shook my head. “No. I’ve done my time in base housing.”
“Perfect.” Diego halted, so I did too. His eyes narrowed in a way that nearly canceled out the cold. “But before we do, maybe we should make sure we’re . . . compatible?”
I gulped, suddenly having visions of Anchor Point PD explaining to base security and my CO what they’d caught me doing in the diner’s parking lot. “What do you have in mind?”
He didn’t say a word. He closed the space between us to a sliver, and his hand slid over my hip, the contact making my pulse surge. Before I’d even adjusted to the presence of his hand, it had snaked around to the small of my back, and that sliver between us was gone, and—
Diego kissed me.
I’d expected something fierce and demanding, messy and suggestive, but he was soft and gentle. Not passive or uncertain, but gentle. Almost sweet.
Everything around us had gone quiet. Much quieter than a small town at three in the morning. Like it was all just . . . gone. I couldn’t even feel the cold wind at all anymore; one touch of his mouth, and I was instantly hot all over, my whole body responding to his languid kiss.
I moaned against his lips as I wrapped my arms around him. Good thing, too, because he started teasing my lips apart with his tongue, and as he deepened the kiss, my knees liquefied. If I hadn’t been holding him this close, God knew if I’d have been able to stay standing at all.
It had been longer than I could remember since someone had kissed me like they wanted me, and I didn’t think my foundation had ever been rattled this hard by a simple kiss. It wasn’t that I was instantly in love with him or anything insane like that. Maybe I was just thrown off because I hadn’t realized how badly I needed to be touched, or because he’d seemed like someone I didn’t have a chance with, or he was really just that talented with his lips and tongue. I didn’t know. I just knew I liked it. A lot.
His long fingers carded through my hair as his body radiated heat through our clothes. I thought my heart might go right through my ribs.
So this is what chemistry tastes like.
Diego broke the kiss as gently as he’d started it, and when our eyes met in the lazy light of the all-night diner, his were on fire. He’d been so controlled from the start, but now he was out of breath, gazing at me with wide, gleaming eyes. “Should we get out of here?”
“Yes, we should.”