Heart of a Marine (The Wounded Warrior Series Book 1) (17 page)

Her lips parted when he forced his tongue in her mouth, and her nails dug into his bare back as she groaned with pleasure.

What little piece of his brain survived intact warned him he might not survive the best night of his life.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

He cooked breakfast for Marla while she showered in his bathroom. The bathroom where he wanted her to shower from here on out. But enough of schoolboy dreams, he told himself. Slow down and do a thorough recon of the battlefield before you go charging into the unknown.

“Hey, Dempsey.” She’d drifted into the kitchen without him realizing it.

“Hey, Danaher. I hope you like spicy sausage links because that’s what you’re getting with your eggs this morning.”

“Sounds great, but don’t give them to Skip. Pork gives him gas.” She grinned and sat in the same chair where everything had started last night.

“Too late. The little fart already talked me out of a couple.”

She scratched the mouse’s chin. “You know what? I really did come here last night to talk to you about something important.” She fussed with her damp curls. “Do you have a rubber band? My hair is going all over the place.”

“I do, but you can’t have one. I like it that way.”

“I’m on my way to the jobsite. I can’t show up there looking like a floozy.”

“As long as you look like you’re my floozy it’s cool.” He sat. “Eat, we’re late as it is.”

“No, it’s not cool, Dempsey. What happened last night is between us. I’m not Charlene, flaunting it to the whole world.” The twist of her lips and blush on her cheeks belied her harsh words.

“Don’t be so hard on your sister. She’s a good lady with a healthy appetite for what comes natural, that’s all.” He opened his mouth and shoved in a forkful of eggs, chewed, and then winked when she stuck her tongue out at him. “Is that an invitation?”

“No. Clear your mind. I need to talk to you. It’s important.”

He shrugged and forked up a hunk of sausage. “Shoot.”

“I’ve been invited to join a private consortium to purchase a prime piece of real estate. In order to do that I’d have to put the condo project up for sale.”

This had come out of nowhere. He put down his fork and stared. “Sell it?”

“Don’t look at me like that. I haven’t made up my mind, but I do have to let them know by tonight. I wanted to ask what you thought of the idea, if it would be a problem for you.”

“It’s no problem for me. What about the renters who moved out and are waiting for me to finish so they can get back home?” He took a swallow of coffee. “What of Miss Emmaline? Are you planning on selling her unit right out from under her?”

“No!” She crumpled her napkin. “I’m trying to find a way to make good on what I promised and still get in on the real estate deal.”

Eyes boring into hers, he asked, “What do you want me to say, Marla? My interest in your building is to finish it, collect my money, then move on to my next contract.”

“You can say that to me after last night?”

He warned himself to consider his words with caution. Last night was important to him. She was important to him, but he couldn’t make, wouldn’t make, decisions for her, especially where a great deal of money was concerned. He reached for her hand. “Let’s not mix business with pleasure, honey. Last night was great, you’re more than great, but right now I’m not sure what you want from me.”

“I should have known.” Marla snatched her hand away, grabbed her dog, and stalked from the room. Two seconds later his front door slammed, then her car door slammed, followed by the sound of her engine firing up.

Nice going, Dempsey, you did it again.

“Dammit.” He carried the dishes to the sink, then found his jacket and car keys.

* * *

Instead of heading for the condos, Marla drove through a maddening mist of tears to her house. Skip sat in the passenger seat, still as a lawn ornament, and stared at her with his oversized black eyes when she pulled into her driveway and stopped. She sat in the car and stared, unseeing, at her house. He watched her and his ears twitched as if to ask, what now?

“Skippy, you’re looking at the sorriest doggy mama in the world.” She choked on a sob and lifted him to her chest. “What am I going to do?”

Skipper whined and licked at her chin. His warm little tongue had the power to turn on the tear faucet. She hadn’t known she could feel so low, so broken-hearted, so confused. The one time in memory she’d willingly handed over control to somebody else—and look what happened. What a moron. She hated herself. She hated Dwayne Dempsey.

Who was she kidding? If she hated him, she wouldn’t feel so rotten. Maybe she’d call Char? No. Dadley?

She pressed a thumb to her father’s picture on her phone. He was probably still at home. He didn’t usually go to his office until after nine. “Come on Dad, be home, please. I need you.”

He picked up on the first ring. “Good morning, sweetheart.”

“Dad?” she replied in a tear-clogged voice. “I…uh…”

Dadley’s voice boomed an octave higher than usual. “What’s the matter?”

Of course he’d be alarmed to hear her crying. She never cried. It was out of character for her. “I’m OK, Dad, but I need your advice. Can I talk to you before you go to your office?”

“No, honey, I’m on my way to an early meeting. If it’s an emergency I’ll cancel, but if it can wait until ten-thirty, I’ll be free for the rest of the morning. Are you sure you’re OK?”

“Um…” She cleared her throat and sucked in a shaky breath. “No emergency, it can wait. Shall I come to your office at ten-thirty then?” That would be better anyway, a couple of hours and she’d have time to get her head together and do some quick number crunching for the consortium deal.

“Yes. Nobody else is in the office today. We’ll have privacy. Are you sure you’re OK, sweetheart?”

“Yes, thanks, Dad. I’ll be there. You’re a life saver.” She sighed. “Don’t worry, I’m fixable.”

* * *

In a black temper, Dwayne stormed through the building looking for the smallest flaw to criticize. “Get that shit out of here. I don’t want to see it lying around tomorrow.” His crew gave him wide berth once they recognized the Gunnery Sergeant glare on his face. Good, he wasn’t in a mood for excuses or backtalk.

He pushed through the door of the trailer, and sat at his desk to tally the final material costs and early finish bonuses. The sooner he cleared out of here the better. It would be worth paying out extra money. He got on the phone and set up a meeting with the owner of the property where Big D had been hired to build a large storage facility.

“That’s great news, Mr. Dempsey. I’m glad you’ll be available a couple of weeks earlier than I expected.”

“I’ll drop in on you Monday afternoon.”

Cluny entered the trailer and went straight to the coffee pot. Dwayne concluded the phone call and ignored him, but the way he flexed his hands and shifted his feet, he knew his old buddy had something on his mind. After a minute he said, “Spit it out, McPherson!”

Arms straight at his sides, Cluny stood at stiff attention. “Yes, sir, Sergeant, sir.”

“Kiss my ass.”

Cluny saluted. “Yes, sir, Sergeant, sir. Drop your pants and bend over. Way over, and I’ll tickle your balls while I’m at it.”

Teeth clenched, lips pressed together, Dwayne fought to hang on to his mad, but lost the battle when they burst into laughter.

“Jeez, I’m such an asshole today.”

“No argument from me there, Gunny.” He sat in the chair across the desk and stretched his long legs. “For a man who just got laid, you look like shit.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Hey, I saw the look on the boss-lady’s face when you walked out of here yesterday. It was only a matter of time. So, spill.” He leered past the rim of his coffee cup.

“I’d rather talk about the Store n’Lock job. I called the guy to tell him I could get on it earlier than expected.” No way was he going to talk about Marla. Not even to his best friend.

“OK by me. Talk. Is there anything in it for my guys?”

“Not much, except for a utility bathroom and a public restroom in the office and a sprinkler system in the main building. You want it?”

“Sure. I got nothin’ on tap except maintenance and small remodels for the next couple of months. You got the blueprints and specs?”

Dwayne reached under the drafting table next to the desk and selected a thick roll of blueprints covered with fine dust. He blew on the bundle, and Cluny joined him at the tall table. They spent about forty-five minutes poring over the plumbing details then grabbed another cup of coffee and returned to sit at the desk.

“Get your cost estimate to me by next Monday morning. I’ve got a meeting with the main man that afternoon.”

Cluny stood. “You got it.” He rinsed out his cup and set it on the shelf behind the sink. “Fifty bucks says she was beyond hot, Gunny.”

“You win. Now get the hell out of here. I gotta think.”

* * *

Marla stood in front of her dad’s office and ran her fingers over his nameplate.
Bradley Danaher.
She turned the knob and peeked inside.

“There’s my girl.” He stood, rounded his desk, and embraced Marla. Arm around her shoulders, he led her to a large, brown leather sofa. “Have a seat, honey. Tell old Dad all about it.”

The love she had for her father was deep enough to drown in. She trembled a watery smile. “You’re not old, Dad. You aren’t even eligible for Senior Citizen discounts until next year.” She grabbed his hand.

“Old in experience, if not years.” He rubbed her knuckles. “What’s on your mind?”

“Two things, but promise you won’t laugh or say I told you so.” She wondered if there were many women out there who had such a close, comfortable relationship with their father as she. Talking to him about anything came naturally to her.

He chuckled. “I’d be falling down on my father-of-the-year job if I made that promise. Let me venture a guess.” Playing the wise man, he rolled his eyes, puckered his lips, and tapped a finger on his chin. “You’re in love and you’re broke.”

“Dad,” she groaned and rocked back, “how do you do it?” Face buried in her hands she mumbled through her fingers, “I made a schoolgirl mistake.” Her cheeks grew hot. “I spent the night at Dwayne Dempsey’s house. I don’t know what came over me. I never should have gone there so late. I swear I had business to discuss with him, but I could have done it over the phone.” She rocked back and forth. “I’m so stupid.”

He rubbed her back. “I’ve had the misfortune to be acquainted with many stupid people in this life, and you, my dear girl, cannot be counted in their number.” He paused. “Now tell me why it was stupid.”

She gasped and stared. “Because we…because we…ended up in his bed, that’s why!”

“And it’s a mistake because you slept with him?”

“Dad!”

“Was he abusive? Did he force you? Was the sex disgusting?” He raised his eyebrows and waved his hands. “What? Why are you in such a tizzy? Do I need to call the County Sheriff?”

“No!” Marla jumped to her feet and paced the length of his private office twice. She opened her mouth to speak and closed it, more than once. Finally, she stopped in front of her dad, slammed her hands on her hips, and blurted, “It wasn’t bad. It was good. It was excellent.” Her neck blazed with a blush she knew he couldn’t miss. “I don’t know what to do!” Grabbing handfuls of her hair, she paced some more.

Dad fell against the back of the sofa and laughed. He shook his head and laughed some more.

“Dadley, you promised!”

“No, I most certainly did
not
promise. I
specifically
did
not
promise.” He patted the space next to him. “Sit down. I need to explain the birds and bees to you even though it’s very late in the game.”

Scalp burning, palms sweating, Marla slumped next to him. He patted her knee, then put his arm around her shoulders and hugged her to his side.

“My beautiful daughter, tell me why you guard your feelings with such vigilance? What is it about this big bad world that has you so skittish? Sexual desire is normal and healthy. You and Dwayne are unattached, normal, and healthy. Why run away from it?”

“I’m not Charlene, Dad.”

“No, you’re not, but you must admit she enjoys life and has a sound attitude about love, sex, and men.”

Instead of answering him, she moaned and closed her eyes.

Brad squeezed her shoulders. “Dwayne Dempsey is a respected, hard-working man. A good father. I’ve never heard a bad word about his character or his values. As long as he treats you with respect, I don’t see why you’d make a federal case out of an enjoyable fling.”

“This morning I asked him to help me with a big business decision and he flatly refused.”

Brad sat straight and stared into her eyes. “Why wouldn’t he? You always have an air of complete control about you, and you seldom welcome advice or meddling. He’s too smart to walk into that mine field.”

“I thought he’d…I was afraid he’d be disappointed in me if I made the wrong decision. I cared about his opinion, and all he wanted to do… Go on as if nothing had happened between us.”

“You were expecting an apology or a marriage proposal?”

“No. I don’t know what I expected.” Her dad had posed a very good question. She was old enough to know expectations were too often the doorway to disaster.

Brad uncrossed his legs. “OK, let’s back up. Tell me about the problem you asked him to help you with, how you got your wires crossed and ended up in his bed.” He rose from the couch and went to his desk, opened the bottom drawer, and removed a bottle of Jameson’s. Without bothering to ask her if she wanted some, he poured a dollop into two glasses and handed one to her.

She told him, to his chuckles, how she and Dwayne had been talking on two different subjects during the first several minutes of their conversation. “Go ahead, laugh. I was mortified, but in retrospect it’s funny.” She rolled her eyes. “Once we got on the same page though, things moved fast.”