скачать книгу бесплатно
Those long bare legs begged a man to fall to his knees and worship her. One glance and he knew he’d start by running his hands over her calves, gently guiding her legs farther apart, until he reached her thighs. He’d lean forward and run his lips, his tongue, his teeth over those red letters...
Shit, he shouldn’t go there, not even in his freaking imagination. Make that especially not in his imagination after that dream he’d had on the flight back. But seeing Amy in her underwear uncovered a feeling that bordered on foreign. Desire, need, whatever the hell it was, looking at her, it hit him hard—and left him aching to touch and taste.
His gaze narrowed in, focusing on those sparkling words. If only luck was on his side.
While deployed, fear was his constant companion. It kept him vigilant, ready for the worst. The way he looked at it, skill kept him alive. Beneath the fear was a boatload of sadness and loss. Nothing lucky about that.
He heard her say something about puppies and pants. But Jango distracted him. One look at the dog and the desire vanished. The animal was like a shadow, always there. He was a four-legged, living and breathing reminder that Amy belonged to his best friend. He shouldn’t be reading the words on her underwear. Not now, not ever.
“I’ll go throw on some pants,” she said. “Make yourselves at home.”
Mark heard Amy’s footsteps on the wooden floorboards, but kept his gaze trained on the wall. The stairs creaked, and he felt the brothers breathe a collective sigh of relief.
“Didn’t need to see that,” T.J. muttered.
“We should get back to work,” Gabe said, turning to the door. “Tell Amy we’ll catch up with her later. Over drinks at the Tall Pines Tavern?”
Mark nodded. “Sure thing. And thanks for the ride.”
Luke slapped his shoulder as they walked past. “Anytime, man. Good to have you home.”
The brothers hightailed it out the door. Mark dropped his rucksack on the floor and thought about following them. But it seemed like a bad idea to let the discomfort fester. Not when he’d come all this way to help her. He’d seen Amy in a bathing suit before. This wasn’t any different.
Two puppies raced through the room, each dragging a piece of what he guessed had been her jeans. They paused to bark at him, the unfamiliar person in their home, and then raced off again with their prize.
Watching the remains of her pants disappear around the corner, Mark realized a bathing suit was one thing. Leopard-print underwear was another. Someone was supposed to read those words—feeling lucky—and take action.
Was she seeing someone? She’d never said anything. But he was probably the last person she’d tell. Or at least on the list of last people. Darren’s brothers were up there, too. If she was...well, hell, that was exactly what she needed. Someone new. A fresh start.
His jaw tightened. But whoever the guy was, he’d better be worthy of Amy. She’d been through so much. If some jerk thought he could breeze in and out of her life, Mark would be tempted to kick the shit out of him. And he had a feeling Darren’s brothers would be next in line.
“Sorry about that.” Amy walked into the room. This time she wore a pair of faded blue jeans and an oversize sweatshirt. She’d pulled her long hair into a ponytail. She looked exactly like the Amy he remembered from high school.
“They’re six weeks old, and I’ve been doing some bite work with them,” she said, speaking quickly, a sure sign she was still embarrassed. “Mostly chasing rags. They saw my jeans and thought it was a game.”
Mark shrugged. “Most people are so excited to see me they forget their pants.”
Funny or not, the joke worked its magic and diffused the discomfort.
Amy cocked her head to one side and smiled. “You save people. I guess that is to be expected.”
She stepped closer, wrapping her arms around him, hugging him tight.
Mark closed his eyes. He couldn’t recall the last time someone had held him. The flare of desire he’d sensed earlier was gone. Her hug? It was better than Thanksgiving dinner with all the fixings. It was pure comfort. Considering he’d been in Afghanistan less than forty-eight hours ago, it felt like a luxury.
“I missed you,” she said. He felt her breath on his neck and moved away, breaking the physical connection before his body misinterpreted the way she was pressed up against him, and he started thinking about falling down on his knees and worshipping her again.
“Same here.” The puppies raced around the corner, their paws sliding on the wooden floorboards. “Want some help rounding them up?”
“Let me grab some treats.”
Mark followed her into the kitchen, taking in every detail. Nothing had changed. Pictures of Amy with her dogs, of her and Darren, hung on the walls. There was a large framed shot of her parents sitting on a boat.
“Your folks enjoying Florida?” he asked.
“They love it.” She removed a handful of jerky treats from a jar. “My mom likes the weather, and she’s thrilled to be closer to my grandmother. My aunt moved down there, too. They thought about coming west for the opening, but it’s a long trip. I told them not to bother.”
“That’s too bad. What you’re doing here is pretty impressive. I’m sure they’d be proud.”
“Thanks, but you haven’t even seen the kennels yet.”
As if they’d smelled the treats through the walls, the puppies came running. Amy offered one to each dog as she led them around the corner. “Or met Nova and Bullet.”
“The dogs you brought back from Europe?”
She nodded, opening the door to the spare bedroom. “I’ve been keeping Nova in here with her puppies while we finish the kennels. They should be able to move down in the next few days, before the opening. Until then, you’re stuck on the couch. I hope that’s okay.”
“Long as I’m not in the way.”
She knelt down beside a large Belgian Malinois and began rubbing her belly. “I’ll be glad for the company.”
He looked around the room. Two adult dogs, including Jango, and five puppies. “Looks like you have a full house already.”
“I’d like to talk to someone who doesn’t bark at me,” she said. “Eloise doesn’t count. The only time she stays here she is too drunk to drive home, or avoiding her latest romantic disaster.”
“Sounds like the same old Eloise.” He bent over and scooped up a tan puppy with a striking black nose and pointed ears. Mark was familiar with the breed, but also knew they were often mistaken for German shepherds. The little one in his hands bore a strong resemblance to the more popular breed.
“What about you?” Mark asked. “Are you seeing anyone?”
Amy froze, her hand on Nova’s belly. “Wow, no one has asked me that.”
Mark shrugged, turning the puppy onto her back. From a young age, war dogs were handled a lot, put in different positions to make them comfortable with anything. “Darren’s been gone eighteen months.”
“I know, but—I’ve been busy. Opening this place has taken all my time.”
The tension Mark had been holding on to since he’d first thought her underwear might have an intended audience slipped away.
“And I haven’t exactly been looking,” she added.
“Then your couch sounds great. An upgrade from the crowded barracks.”
Amy stood and turned to him. He knew that look. She’d worn the same expression when she won homecoming queen. Pure astonishment.
“You thought you’d be in the way because I was seeing someone?” She let out a laugh.
“Yeah,” he said, looking up at her. “It’s not such a crazy idea.”
He cut himself off before he said things he couldn’t take back. Amy didn’t need to know that he’d taken one look at her bare legs and thought about running his hands up her limbs because, shit, his mind should never have traveled down that road. She might be single, but that didn’t mean he was the guy to fill the empty space in her bed.
“Sometimes it still kind of feels like it is,” she said softly. Then she gave a little shake of her head and turned to the door. “You came all this way, I think I owe you a tour.”
“Love one.” He returned the puppy to his mother and held the door for Amy and Jango.
With the sun sinking low in the sky, they walked through the yard to the kennel. It was double in size, compared to the previous structure. He knew she’d done well with her dog training and boarding business, and enjoyed it, but a building this size suggested she was seriously committed to her new venture.
He stopped a few feet from the door, resting his hands on his hips as he studied the new kennel. She’d painted it white with a forest green trim. It looked shiny and new.
“Impressive,” he said.
She looped her arm through his. “You haven’t seen the inside yet.”
He followed her through the reception area into a long hall with individual rooms lining either side. Peering through an open door, he saw that each room held a doghouse and two doors—one doggy and one human—to a small fenced outdoor area.
“I tried to replicate the kennels where the SEAL teams kept their dogs,” she said. “On a smaller scale, of course.”
“You did a kick-ass job.” The place was amazing. How she’d pulled it together in only a few months, while working to secure the funds from the bank, astonished him.
“When Darren was home, I would ask him to draw sketches of the kennels Jango lived in. He also made lists of changes he wanted to make and things he’d keep the same. And I added some of my own ideas, too.”
Mark paused and leaned against the entry to a modern, brand-new veterinary exam room.
“You should be proud of yourself.”
Her lips curved, offering a hint of a smile. “I am.”
“Are you planning to head out with the guys tonight?” He stepped into the exam room, closer to her. After seeing her in her underwear, he knew he should keep his distance. But he couldn’t do it. “To Tall Pines Tavern?”
“I might drop by. I think the puppies are old enough now to be left alone for an hour or two. Maybe I’ll see if Mrs. Benton can stop in and check on them.”
“How about I take you to dinner first?” he said, running his hand over the metal table’s smooth surface. “Toast your success.”
Amy blinked. Shit, he’d surprised her. Too late to take it back now. He kept his gaze fixed on her, but out of the corner of his eye, he saw Jango stand. The animal looked ready to attack. It was as if he’d understood Mark’s words but misinterpreted his intentions. This was just dinner between two friends. And that was all they’d ever be—friends.
* * *
AMY STARED AT MARK as if he was speaking a foreign language. She’d eaten dinner with Mark hundreds of times. But there was something about this invitation that sent her mind spiraling back to the flash of longing she’d seen in his eyes earlier. The thought of sitting across from him, sharing a meal, his attention focused on her...
“I...um...yes. Okay,” she said, feeling like a giddy schoolgirl.
He nodded. “Is Lucia’s Italian place still open?”
“It is. But I think they changed their sauce. It’s too sweet now. There’s a new Mexican place in town that makes the best enchiladas.”
“Your night, your choice.”
“Mexican it is.” Amy led Mark back into the kennel’s central hall. “But I need to finish up a few things first. Check with the guys. I’ll come find you in an hour.”
Mark nodded. “Sounds like a plan.”
He headed for the exit, his hands shoved in his pockets. She had a lot to do before dinner, but she didn’t move until the door closed behind him. It felt good, seeing him in the flesh instead of on a screen. And the fact that he, of all people, understood what she was trying to do here—that meant so much.
Amy turned and moved toward the sound of hammers pounding, planning to tell the Benton brothers to call it quits for the day But she stopped out of sight of where the brothers were working and closed her eyes. She felt Jango sit by her side and press up against her leg. Reaching down, she touched the dog’s head.
Part of her still felt married and that even the smallest hint of desire was a betrayal. But Darren was gone. And eighteen months was a long time. Moving forward—she was allowed to want that, wasn’t she?
“I’ve waited,” she whispered. “For so long.”
In high school, she’d waited for Darren to notice her. After that she’d waited for him to ask her out and, later, marry her. Then she’d waited three hundred days out of every year for him to come home.
She’d put her dream business on hold because Darren wasn’t ready to quit his SEAL team. After his death, she’d waited for the grief to fade, knowing only time would help her heal. And it had. But now, after spending the past twelve years in a holding pattern, she was done waiting.
Jango turned his head up, licking the palm of her hand. “Even if I am ready to put myself out there and start dating, Mark isn’t the guy,” she whispered.
Yes, he was gorgeous—especially with his shirt off. But that didn’t change the fact that he’d been her husband’s best friend.
4 (#u5abe06ba-fa42-5e5c-9572-64ea6c925028)
FOR THE FIRST TIME in months, Amy felt full. Enchiladas, chips, guacamole—she’d devoured all of it while discussing her plans for the kennel. Mark sat opposite her, listening and occasionally surveying the restaurant.
Amy studied the collar of his button-down shirt peeking out from underneath his sweater. When had he started wearing dress shirts? He’d always been a T-shirt kind of guy. Maybe a sweatshirt or flannel in the colder months. Nothing that drew attention. And in Heart’s Landing a button-down in a place where no one dressed for dinner was bound to make people look twice. She’d already caught half a dozen diners, mostly women, glancing their way.
Or maybe it had nothing to do with his shirt. At six-four, Mark towered over most men. A sweater and dress shirt didn’t exactly hide his broad chest and powerful arms. Of course, she’d seen those muscles stripped bare...
She pushed the thought away and tried to focus on the here and now.
“You look nice.” She waved at his collar. “Fancy shirt.”
Mark shrugged. “I travel light, especially when I know I won’t be back long. And I wanted to look decent for your opening.”
Back, not home. Didn’t he still consider Heart’s Landing home? If not here, where? His words sank in further. He was leaving again soon. She’d known that from day one. Mark had a month’s leave at most, and he hadn’t said how much of that time he planned to spend in Oregon. But still, hearing him say it thrust her into the past. She’d hated the goodbyes, could still feel the dread.
“You could wear your dress uniform,” she said, scraping the last of the guacamole from the bowl even though her appetite had vanished.
“I will if you’d prefer. But I figured you already had Gabe walking around in his navy whites. Plus Luke and T.J. in their dress uniforms.”
And Mark had always been more comfortable in the background. In high school, he’d been a star on the football team—and an attractive one with his wavy brown hair and rich brown eyes. He’d drawn half the cheerleading squad’s attention. Yet, he’d always hung back.
“Wear whatever you’re comfortable in. I’m just glad you’re here.” She polished off her last chip and pushed the bowl away.
“You were hungry. We could always order another.”
“I can’t eat another bite. But if you want more, go ahead.”
Mark shook his head, his eyes darting to the door and back. She wanted to reassure him that nothing bad was likely to happen in their quiet little town. But she suspected he already knew that.
“How does it feel to be here?” she asked gently. “The transition from Afghanistan to a sleepy town in the middle of nowhere has to be a culture shock.”
“Like I’ve walked into the past,” he said grimly.
