Heart of a Marine (The Wounded Warrior Series Book 1) (28 page)

Marla peeked between her fingers. Charlene was poised to smack her with another dripping gob of ice cream.

“OK. You’re just as smart as me. You’re smarter. Please stop.”

“You started it.”

“I did, didn’t I?” She pulled her pajama top away from her chest. “Ick.” Grinning at Charlene, she added, “It was fun though, wasn’t it?”

They screamed with laughter and made ugly menacing faces at each other.

“Oh, lordy, who’s going to clean up this mess?”

Marla lifted Skipper off the floor and stood him on the table. “He can do some of it. Have at it, Skippy.”

“If he pukes, you’re going to clean it up.”

“So, what else is new? Grab the paper towels. We can get the worst of it, then do a better job after we shower.”

Ten minutes later, Marla stood under the shower, Skip hugged to her chest. There wasn’t a hair on his little body that had escaped the ice cream fight. She’d never seen him so excited, and that probably wasn’t a good sign. She sighed and washed him from head to toe, not a huge task.

Wearing Charlene’s robe, she returned to the kitchen and had most of the mess cleaned up by the time her sister came in. She tossed Char a wet towel. “Rinse this out and hand me that clean one. I’m almost done.”

The doorbell rang. They stared at each other. Charlene shrugged and went to the door, Marla following close behind. She peeked through the peephole and jumped back, hand on her chest.

“Is that Francine?” Char whispered.

“Let me see. Yes, and that’s her husband behind her. I’m calling Dwayne.”

“No, don’t do that. I’ll call the police. Those people are nuts. They scare me.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Monday, Dwayne made phone calls, lining up future jobs, and then called on some previous customers to make sure there were no problems or complaints he needed to be aware of. He depended on referrals for future business. One disgruntled customer could be very bad news.

At the end of the day, he stopped by Cluny’s location to see if he’d like company for dinner. He hadn’t spent much time with Cluny for the last several weeks while he’d been obsessed with Marla. They usually made it a habit for at least one guy’s-night-out every week.

Cluny looked up from his desk. “Hey, Gunny, what’s up?”

“How about a few beers and some pizza tonight?”

“Yeah, right.” Cluny laughed. “We know the beer ain’t gonna happen, but pizza, I’m all yours.” He gestured to a chair. “I have a couple of phone calls to make. Should take less than ten minutes. You want to wait? Or you wanna meet at Angelo’s?”

“I’ll wait.” Dwayne sat and picked up a tattered and greasy copy of Sports Illustrated. The magazine was published the previous year. He snorted with disgust and tossed it back on the table. Cluny gave him the finger.

He’d been tempted to call Marla all day, but hadn’t. They both needed a little breathing room. She had business to take care of and so did he. She’d hesitated when he asked her about going to the ranch. It had rankled, but what did he expect? He sprang it on her out of the blue.

“Where are you?”

Dwayne’s gaze shot to Cluny who stood before him dangling his keys. He huffed his response, “Not here, that’s for sure. Ready?”

They were halfway through their first pizza and pitcher of lemonade when Cluny asked, “So how’s it going with you and the boss lady?”

Dwayne pressed his lips together and shook his head. “I’m in deep shit. I’m in love with her.”

“What’s wrong with that? I wish I was in love with somebody.”

“Are you kidding me? You get more women than any guy I’ve ever known. I don’t know how you keep them straight.”

“Not the same. I was in love once, it was great.” He grinned. “The sex is a shitload better when you’re in love.”

“When were you ever in love? And how come I didn’t know about it?”

“Remember Esther Grossman?” Cluny gave him a sly smile and waggled his eyebrows.

“You played hide the salami with Esther Grossman?” Cluny was a wellspring of surprises. How had he not known this? They’d hung out together since tenth grade. Esther Grossman was the hottest girl in senior class. Every guy in school wanted to get in her pants, including him.

“Oh, yeah.” Cluny’s expression was priceless.

“What happened?”

“Her papa married her off to a nice Jewish boy when we were doing our first tour of Iraq. The next time I saw her,” he held his hand out in front of his stomach, “she was out to here. Broke my heart, Esther did.”

“I’ll be damned. How come you never told me?”

“I’ll give you the low down on Esther if you share the dirty details about you and the boss lady.”

“No way, pal. Esther is ancient history, Marla is now.”

“Hell.” He grinned and threw down his napkin. “I’ll tell you anyway.”

For the next hour Cluny regaled Dwayne with colorful details of his sexual exploits with the sultry Esther Grossman.

Every now and then Dwayne would rear back and say, “No!”

Cluny grinned, nodded, and added another sensational detail.

* * *

Rosie gasped. “Oh, my gosh! How long did it take the police to get there?”

“A sheriff’s patrol car was making nightly rounds a couple of blocks away,” Charlene said. “Those nitwits were still pounding on my door when they pulled up with their lights flashing.” She shook her head and snickered.

“Wow. What did they say when they were caught red-handed?”

Marla sighed. “They weren’t actually doing anything illegal. Luke told some lie about looking for a guy named Homer Wilson, said he wrote down the wrong address.”

“The deputies weren’t buying that,” Charlene said. “Especially after Marla spoke up and told them Homer Wilson didn’t live at her house either.”

“It was obvious to the deputies they knew Char and me. And the fact they look like your average mug shot didn’t help their case.”

“Were they arrested?”

“No, they were warned to leave the area, unless they had a permanent local address. Otherwise they’d take them in and run a check on the Wyoming license plate and Luke’s parole status. From the look on his face it was pretty clear he knew he could end up back in jail.”

“Yes,” Charlene added, “they left fast after that.”

“Does Dwayne know?”

Marla shook her head. “No. I was afraid of what he might do.” The thought of those two people ever having access to Amber was too terrible to imagine. What must Dwayne be going through?

“Lordy, sis, he might find out. Isn’t it better if you tell him? You can’t keep something like this to yourself.”

“I know. I’ll tell him. I will, but I don’t want him to go after them. What good would that do him or Amber? I’ll tell him. I promise.”

Rosie patted her arm. “I’m sure you’ll know when the timing is right.”

“First I need to talk to him about going to the ranch. I saw hurt in his eyes when I hesitated. It’s…he surprised me when he asked. Instead of saying I had to think about it and make a plan, I said I couldn’t possibly be gone that long.”

Charlene shook her head. “Just call him. Men aren’t like us. They get over things faster. He probably shrugged it off.”

“I would like to go. I just wasn’t prepared to answer when he sprang it on me.”

“She’s right,” Rosie said, nodding in Charlene’s direction. “Tell him you’re looking forward to going, and then mention the incident with Francine and her husband like it was no big deal. If he thinks they scared you, he’ll have blood in his eyes.”

About eleven that night, Marla picked up the phone and called Dwayne.

He answered on the second ring. “Hey, Danaher.”

“Hey, Dempsey.” When she didn’t answer him immediately, he said, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, except my willpower failed. That’s why I called.”

He chuckled. “I’m glad you did. My willpower lasted about three minutes longer than yours, honey.”

How she loved the sound of his voice. “Heck. You mean if I’d lasted another three minutes I could have saved my dignity?”

“That’s about the size of it. But I won’t hold it against you or take advantage. I promise.”

“Since my dignity’s already shot…do you want to come over?”

“I’m on my way.” The line went dead.

* * *

When he got to her place, she stood on the porch waiting for him. His woman. The swelling sensation in his chest gave him a sense of lightness.

Marla met him halfway down the walk. They stopped a few feet apart and stared at each other for a split second. She opened her arms and sighed deeply. “Hello, my love.”

Body and mind on fire, he gathered her in his arms. “Hello, my love.”

She tilted her head for his kiss. He was eager for her to feel all the emotion he experienced every time their lips met. The kiss consumed them. He crushed her against him then eased up, afraid he might hurt her. “I want you every minute of every day.”

“That’s good.” She stepped back. “Can we take a walk?”

“Something on your mind?”

“Always, but it’s such a balmy evening, and the only sound is the whippoorwill across the road, I thought we could enjoy it a while before we go inside.”

His arm around her shoulders and hers around his waist, they strolled down the quiet street. Having her beside him filled him with a quiet comfort he hadn’t known was missing. He made a small, involuntary sound.

“Is your leg hurting?” She stopped and studied his face in the moonlight.

“Yeah, it’s been giving me fits all day.”

“Why didn’t you say something?” She tugged his hand. “Let’s go back.” When he resisted, she smiled. “Come on, big guy. Don’t be a hero on my account.”

Grinning, he pulled her into his arms. “I want to be your hero.”

“You are.”

Back inside the house, she led him to the bedroom. “Sit on the bed. I’ll help you undress. It’s my current favorite thing.”

“Happy to oblige.” He groaned with relief from the pressure of the prosthesis. “I gotta get this damn thing adjusted. It’s been bothering me lately.”

Marla knelt and removed his shoe. He lifted his leg clear of his jeans. Grinning, she pulled off his sock and bit his big toe. He yanked back. “Hey, that’s my good one.”

She stood and pulled his T-shirt over his head. “Get that contraption off and I’ll find something to rub on it. I’m not your regular nurse, but I can improvise.”

“Plain old Vaseline will do the trick when all else fails.”

He removed the equipment and reclined against the pillows. “Got any Tylenol or Advil, honey?”

“Coming right up.” She returned to the bed with a glass of water and two green capsules. “Hope this helps.”

“If you took off your clothes it’d be a great distraction.” He winked and swallowed the pills then set the empty glass on the nightstand. She lowered the zipper on her only item of clothing, a long robe. He’d never get enough of the sight of her standing before him without a stitch.

He nodded at his growing tumescence. “See, it’s working already.” He crooked his finger. “Come here.”

She held up the tube of petroleum jelly. “Let me take care of your owie first. You’ll be more useful to me if you’re not thinking about it.”

He reached for the tube. “I’ll do it.”

Pulling it out of his reach, she shook her head and said, “I want to.” She sat on the side of the bed and lifted his blown-up leg to her lap and gently massaged his inflamed stump.

Dwayne sighed and lay back. “That feels good, honey.”

“Let me know when you’ve had enough. I just got an idea of another place where I might apply this stuff to make you feel even better.”

He sat up and dragged her across his body. “I’ve had enough.” For a woman who’d apparently come late to the game, she made up for lost time, surprising and thrilling him with the depths of her abandonment. “How’d I get so lucky, Danaher?”

She rolled over in his arms and pushed herself to a sitting position, straddling him. “Funny, Dempsey, I was just wondering the same thing.” She picked up the tube and put a devilish twist on her lips.

* * *

At the breakfast table, Marla told him she wanted to go to the ranch for a week or so in August and how much she was looking forward to seeing Amber again.

“The little squirt asks about you every time I call her.”

“Is Kathleen keeping her busy?”

“Mom said she falls into exhausted sleep every night. Poor old Jarhead too. He hasn’t run so much in years.” He dug into the thick Belgian waffle she’d put in front of him.

“Jarhead?”

“Dylan’s old dog. He brought him to the ranch and gave him to me when he went in the Marines.”

“Holy hail, how old is he?”

“Fifteen. Amber gave him a new lease on life. Mom said his coat is shiny and he’s put on a couple of pounds.” He shook his head. “I often wonder how many more times I’ll see him. He’s already outlived the profile for the breed.”

She reached down and scratched Skipper’s ear. “Teacup Chihuahuas can live to be twenty. Skipper’s two. Even with knowing how long he may live, it kills me to think of losing him.”

Dwayne snapped his fingers. “Come over here, Sergeant Danaher.” Skip scurried to him.

“Little turncoat,” Marla grumbled.

While he was making a fuss over her dog, she thought it would be a good time to tell him about her latest encounter with Francine and Luke. “Oh, I almost forgot. Sunday night Francine and Luke showed up on Charlene’s doorstep while I was there.”

“What!” His voice was so loud Skipper cowered and Marla jerked. “When were you planning to tell me this?” He dropped his fork on the table with a clunk.

Realizing that there probably wasn’t a good time to tell him, she soldiered on. “I didn’t think it was important. Char called the sheriff and they got there in a couple of minutes. Nothing happened. The deputy told them to get out of town, and they left.” The look on Dwayne’s face terrified her. “They didn’t do anything.”

He stood so fast he knocked over his chair. “Goddammit! I’m going to kick that sonuvabitch’s ass all the way back to Montana. Hers too!”