Chapter Three
Brett stared at the woman across from him. Despite her casual statement that he could go bang some other chick tonight and she wouldn’t care, there was tension in her shoulders.
Damn, but if she wasn’t the sexiest and most puzzling woman he’d ever met, and it was almost as if she didn’t give a flying fig about being sexy or flirtatious.
Like what she was doing right now. The way she played with the straw in her soda, sliding her fingers up and down the plastic and stroking a finger over the top. He’d bet all the money in his wallet it was subconscious.
But whether subconscious or beautifully calculated, the gesture was so seductive all he could think about was her fingers doing the same damn thing on his dick.
Dragging his mind from his filthy hand-job vision, he tried to remember what he was supposed to be answering her about. Oh right. Her half-assed encouragement that maybe he might want to find another woman later if he wanted to get laid tonight.
The idea was so off-putting he couldn’t help but give a soft, harsh laugh. No other woman was going to be able to substitute for Kenzie right now. He wasn’t like one of his younger sailors who simply needed release and would take it with any willing woman.
He wanted to get off tonight, just as much as the next guy. But he got the feeling Kenzie would be worth the wait.
“I’m enjoying my time with you,” he finally answered, “and I’m actually okay with the knowledge that you’re not looking for sex tonight.”
Skepticism flashed across her face. “Seriously? Because I know you guys have been holding off on the ship and you must be horny as hell.”
While maybe she wasn’t looking for sex tonight, she certainly didn’t seem shy discussing it.
Deciding to see exactly how comfortable she was, he pushed it a little further.
“Well, yes, most of us probably are horny as hell, but while we may not be sleeping with our women, it doesn’t mean we’re not getting off.”
Her cheeks filled with color, and her gaze with realization. “Oh. Oh right. I mean, I guess it’s only natural taking care of business yourself. I mean, I do it.”
Christ Almighty, he didn’t need that visual right now. Sweat broke out on the back of his neck. He really didn’t need to think about Kenzie in bed, with her fingers—
“So maybe you don’t really miss sex all that much?” she asked with a slight frown.
“Of course we miss it—frigging your hand is nothing compared to a flesh-and-blood woman.” His voice was a rasp now. “Which is why we make sure we’re ready to meet our women when we come home.”
“What do you mean by ready? Or do I want to know?”
He leaned forward slightly and covered her hand with his. It was meant to be conspiring, but really he just wanted an excuse to touch her.
“You tell me, Kenzie, do you really want to know?”
She bit her lip, glancing at his hand and almost hesitating, but she didn’t pull away. She gave a quick nod. “Aye. Tell me.”
“BOCOD,” he whispered.
“BOCOD? What’s that?”
“Beating Off Cut-Off Date.”
Her eyes rounded. “Shut up.”
“No really, it’s a thing.”
“You, like, stop getting off so you guys have this pent-up frustration. Then you arrive home and go at it with your wives and girlfriends.”
He grinned, amused by her response. “And boyfriends for some. Times are changing. But yeah.”
“Wow.” She bit her lip, her eyes dancing. “I love it.”
Even though her delighted words were backed up by her relaxed body language, surprise slid through him.
“You do? Really?”
He traced a thumb over her knuckles, loving how soft the skin was. Luxuriating in the fact that he could finally touch her. Even in such a small, innocent way.
He heard the soft hitch in her breathing and her gaze never left his.
“Yeah. It’s actually kind of sweet.”
“Well, it’s not sweet, it’s hard as hell.”
“No pun intended?”
“Actually, yes—” he glowered mockingly “—pun intended.”
She laughed then. A loud, belly laugh that wasn’t the slightest bit sexy or feminine. Several people turned to glance their way. He loved her laugh, in all its bawdy, unrestrained glory.
The waitress arrived with their food, setting it down on the table. Brett pulled his hand away reluctantly. It’d be a little weird trying to eat holding her hand. He’d gotten away with it in the moment, but something told him she would get skittish after too long.
“Anything else I can get you two?” the waitress asked, giving them both a knowing look.
“I think we’re good.” Brett smiled. “Thank you.”
“Must be nice to have your man back, dearie,” she said, winking at Kenzie. “Welcome home, sailor.”
Kenzie froze, a mozzarella stick halfway to her mouth, her eyes wide.
“She must have assumed because we were getting along so well,” Brett assured her, reaching for a wing. “Don’t look panicked.”
“Aye, of course. It’s just, it threw me off-balance for a moment,” she muttered and took a bite.
“That makes two of us.”
They ate the greasy food quietly for a moment. When he reached for his iced tea, she spoke again.
“One thing I’ve always loved about this island is how supportive most people are of the Navy. How warm and welcoming they are when you guys return from being deployed. Or how everyone pulls together when you leave.”
“I agree. You find that in a lot of military towns.” He gave her a curious glance. “You must see a lot of sailors and spouses come in and out of the pub. It’s not far from the base.”
“We see a good amount,” she agreed. “We’ve seen several couples married after meeting at McLaughlin’s.”
“And I’m sure a good amount get divorced from too many nights there.” The words were out with a bitter edge before he could stop them.
Her gaze swung to his, full of shock.
Shit. Why the hell hadn’t he filtered himself?
“What do you mean?”
“Nothing.” He shook his head and reached for another wing.
“No, it’s quite clear you meant something, so maybe you should elaborate.”
Her brows were drawn down into a frown and he knew she wasn’t about to drop the subject.
“Only that sometimes married people end up cheating on their spouses after hanging out in the bars too much.”
“Well that’s complete shite. Those same unfaithful bastards might be as likely to cheat with someone they met at the local grocery.”
“Not always the man cheating, sugar,” he drawled. “Just as often, it’s the woman.”
“Hmm.” She didn’t look convinced, but maybe slightly irritated now. “Well, I’m not on ring patrol when I’m working at our pub.”
He needed to change the subject. Fast. He latched on to something she’d said, partly because he wasn’t sure he’d heard right.
“Did you say ‘our pub’?”
“Aye. Well, it belongs to my brother, so technically it’s his. But we consider it our family pub. My parents started it when they moved here.”
“Your parents are the McLaughlins in McLaughlin’s Pub?”
“One and the same. We’re all McLaughlins.”
“Well, I guess I should’ve put that one together. Kenzie McLaughlin.” He drew out her name on his tongue. It was sexy. Cute.
Matched her to a T. She was fun and cute.
He watched as she pulled her drink forward and slid the straw between full lips unadorned with gloss or lipstick.
She was also ridiculously sexy in a natural way.
The next hour passed just as easily as the first. Conversation flowed with ease, and below the safe discussions, there was simmering heat that built. He knew it couldn’t be one-sided.
When the bill came he snatched it and paid, despite her protests and insistence that she’d offered to buy his dinner. His mother hadn’t raised him to let a woman pay for dinner on a first date. Maybe down the road, if she threw a fit, but it was bred in him to pick up the check.
“May I walk you to your car, Kenzie?”
She only barely hesitated before she nodded.
Be a gentleman. He kept the mantra in his head as they left the restaurant.
A kiss on the cheek. He wouldn’t push her.
But his blood was hot and pounding, and he curled his hands into fists, knowing it was going to be a lot harder than he fucking thought.
Even though she’d been sipping beverages all night, Kenzie’s mouth was dry as sandpaper.
Her heart beat a frantic rhythm as she walked beside Brett to her car. She’d successfully made it through dinner with him. A date. Technically it had been a date, right?
And now the evening was coming to a close. That point where he might go in for a kiss. Might try and do some petting if she gave him any encouragement.
A wash of cold swept over her, mingling with the heat in her blood.
Oh God. She wasn’t ready for this. Was she?
She could’ve told him she’d walk out to her car by herself. They were by a busy street and it was light enough. She would’ve been fine.
But she hadn’t wanted to go out alone, and not because of fear, but because surprisingly she didn’t want this night to end. It had been both terrifying to realize, and a bit liberating.
She was all too aware of his tall, wide frame walking beside her. Just how blatantly large and male he was. She was used to her brothers, but they were family. Brett was most definitely not a relative, and each step she took toward her car reminded her of it.
She reached her destination and drew in an unsteady breath.
“Here’s my little Escort.” She tried for a bright smile, but it felt tight. Fake. Terrified.
He stopped beside her, inches away, and didn’t say anything. She could feel his gaze on her. Probing. Questioning. Heated. She’d seen that flash of need in his eyes more than once inside the restaurant, but he’d been a perfect gentleman. Doing nothing more than touching her hand briefly.
She’d been almost disappointed when he’d moved his hand away. Would he try and touch her again now?
Her heart doubled its rhythm and she drew in tiny shallow breaths as panic started to swell in her.
“Brett—”
“Relax, Kenzie,” he said softly. “I’m not going back on my word. I’m not going to seduce you in the parking lot of Applebee’s.”
He wasn’t? Maybe it was a bloody shame, because with the way her body was reacting right now, she sensed he might’ve succeeded further than any man in the past ten years had.
With a soft curse, he muttered, “I have to kiss you, though. Please don’t say no.”
Say no? Could she even if she tried? Yet giving any kind of permission was nearly as impossible at this moment.
She could only stand frozen, eyes wide and heart racing. Finally, she gave a small nod.
He drew in a ragged breath and reached out to cradle her cheek with one hand. His other rested on her waist.
“I hope that was giving me permission, sugar, because I need only a taste.”
Without waiting for a response, he lowered his head and his lips hovered just above hers. She closed her eyes, letting her senses take over. Their breath met first. Warm and moist, their lips not quite touching yet. Then he moved ever so slightly so that his mouth pressed against hers. Soft, but firm.
There was restraint in the hand that held her waist. His fingers on her skin, even over the cotton of her T-shirt, seemed to brand his prints. Making her burn. His grasp was strong, but not imprisoning.
His lips brushed hers again, softly, without pressure. He made no move to deepen the kiss or rush anything. It was simple and yet so sensual. The warmth in her belly began to spread through her blood, bubbling hotter and faster. Making her aware of every nerve ending in her body, but everything homed in on the one spot where their breath mixed together.
She wanted more. She wanted to deepen the kiss.
For an instant, his thumb pressed harder against her waist, and she could sense him struggling with his control. His lips trembled against hers and then, in a surprising move, he caught her bottom lip between both of his and sucked lightly.
Shock and pleasure jolted through her, and she whimpered, swaying against him. She needed more. Her lips parted and she leaned forward, but he’d already pulled away.
Dazed, she blinked her eyes open. It took a moment for her vision to adjust to the streetlights that held the nighttime darkness at bay.
“Thank you for taking me to dinner, Kenzie,” he murmured, tracing his fingers down her jawline, ever so lightly.
“You actually paid for it.” Oh shite, her voice sounded like she’d swallowed a squeak toy. “Thank you.”
He gave another smile, the one that had all those little butterflies coming to life in her stomach. In the artificial lighting, she could see the lingering heat in his gaze and something else. Some kind of hesitancy.
He truly wasn’t going to try to convince her to go to bed with him tonight. That fact in combination with how amazing the evening had been was making it harder to find a reason to not want to see him again.
Brett was a good guy. And she needed to start dating. Delonna was right. She really, really needed to put her arse out there.
And that kiss…whoa.
“I work tomorrow night—you should come in and see me. I’ll likely hook you up with some shepherd’s pie.”
Wow, that was quite bold of her, wasn’t it? Channeling some vintage Kenzie, she was. Biting her lip to hide a smile, she reached into her purse for her keys.
“Sounds good. Have a good night, Kenzie.”
“You too.”
He was rather sweet, waiting until she’d climbed into her car and driven off. Only then did she see him in her rearview as he made his way to a big pickup truck in the corner of the lot.
This was good. She’d met a decent guy and he was the perfect person to jump feet-first back into the dating game with.
It didn’t have to be serious. Honestly, she didn’t know if she even wanted serious while she finished up her degree.
But she was putting herself out there, and it was about time.
*
Brett maneuvered his Dodge Ram into a spot at the pub. The place was already packed even though it was a Sunday night. Maybe because there was a Seahawks game on and McLaughlin’s Pub had a couple massive flat-screens throughout.
It all sounded pretty awesome actually. The game, a couple beers, shepherd’s pie and a beautiful girl he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about.
He’d gone all out this afternoon. Taking an extra-long shower and finally opening his bottle of Marc Jacobs aftershave. It had been a gift from his sister at Christmas, sitting unused in his bathroom until today. Not much for designer things, he figured his under ten dollar bottle was absolutely fine and he’d hold off on the pricey stuff once he ran out.
But today he saw the appeal in the designer brand. Felt the difference. Actually, he figured he smelled pretty damn good right now. And getting dressed, hell, he hadn’t put that much thought into what to wear since, well, maybe never.
To top it all off, he was nervous. Like he was about to go on some kind of first date in high school or something.
What the hell was wrong with him?
Staring at the front door of the pub, watching people slip in and out for a cigarette, a sliver of unease raced down his neck.
He shifted his gaze to one of the windows of the pub, saw the crowds of people. Some clearly sailors from the base.
Just as suddenly, she filled his vision. She had a tray of food balanced on her hand as she delivered it to the table near the window. Her hair was always the first thing he noticed. It was as much her identity as the trace of a Scottish accent.
Even from across the parking lot, he could get a good glimpse of her. So beautiful. His pulse jacked up and he drew in an unsteady breath.
With the food delivered, she tucked the tray under her arm and placed a hand on her hip. She seemed to be talking to the men, but her gaze rose to the window.
Through the drizzling rain and fading light, he knew she wouldn’t be able to see him.
She lingered for a moment more, staring out into the night, before turning and walking away.
Shit.
Realization hit with him quick, cold precision.
He liked her. He liked Kenzie in a way that meant he might not be able to sleep with her for a couple of weeks, or even a night, and move on.
How? They’d had two hours talking at Applebee’s and a kiss that most would consider chaste, for fuck’s sake.
He scrubbed a hand down his smooth, expensively scented jaw, and was reminded of how hard he was trying tonight.
The excitement of the evening slowly faded into the depths of somber disappointment. He couldn’t go down this road, not again. Nothing serious.
It was a promise he’d made to himself after the last time and one he’d done damn well at keeping.
The women he’d gotten involved with in the past couple of years had known what they were getting into. It had been casual. It had been fun. It had been brief. It had never been permanent.
Kenzie wasn’t the kind of woman you slept with and walked away from. She’d blatantly said last night she didn’t move that fast getting sexually involved with men, and he’d been fine with that. He knew she would’ve been worth the wait.
But despite the light-hearted yet tough exterior she presented, he knew she was fragile. Delicate. Though he suspected she’d smack him one if she ever heard him call her that.
She’d been hurt before. By someone. Maybe she hadn’t told him, but some things you could sense.
His chest tightened and his stomach roiled. The dejection lingered in a heavy cloud around him as Brett started his truck, the keys still in the ignition.
He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t be the man who hurt Kenzie again. It was better if he walked away now.
Reversing out of his spot, he sped out of the pub’s parking lot and forced himself not to give it a backward glance.