I Need a Hero (2 page)

“And you can call me Ms. Reynolds, Sergeant Best.”

Oliver scoffed, happy that she hadn’t fallen for Best’s act. And then something struck him.

Reynolds? As in General Reynolds?

“And the slow one is Sergeant Martinez,” Best said helpfully.

If she hadn’t turned back to look at him, Oliver would have flipped Best off.
I’m going to kick his ass.

Those big, beautiful eyes watched him with curiosity and something else he couldn’t place. If the general was her father, had he told her who Oliver was?

“Sergeant Martinez, I believe you’re helping me out on this project,” she said.

Well, she doesn’t sound vindictive.
But she did sound a little disappointed. Why, though?

“Yes, ma’am,” he said.

“Is there a place we can set up?” she asked.

“There is a conference room down the hall and to the right of the lobby,” Sparks said.

Hiking her shoulder bag higher, she said, “Shall we get started, Sergeant?”

Chapter Two

E
VELYN
R
EYNOLDS HAD
been around military men all her life, and there was a very good reason why she didn’t get involved with them.

Actually, there were a buttload of reasons, but they all boiled down to her father. He had always been adamant about her not getting involved with a military man, but even if he had been okay with it, she’d have steered clear. She’d spent her childhood watching her mother worry and fret when her dad was gone, and she did not want that life.

However, that didn’t mean she couldn’t look and admire the hot piece of man in uniform standing in front of her. He was taller than her five feet four inches by almost a foot, with tan skin and eyes that looked like the ocean off of the Honolulu beach she’d loved to swim in when her father had been stationed there. This man’s shoulders were wide and tapered down into a V at his waist. His pants were slightly baggy, but she had a feeling he had an ass you could bounce a quarter off of.

If Evelyn had a weakness, it was a man with a great ass.

But it was her reaction to Sergeant Martinez that was making her uneasy. The man had said a total of four words to her, but his deep timbre had made her tingle all over, something that had never happened.

“How about we head out to this little café I know?” he said. “I’m starving.”

They had just left Sergeant Sparks’s office, and his suggestion surprised her. She’d thought maybe he was just taciturn, one of those strong silent types, but maybe he had been as thrown by her as she was by him.

The idea delighted her more than she liked.

“I already ate, thanks.” Actually, all she’d had was a protein bar and a bottle of water because she’d been too busy to stop and eat, but there was no way she was going to brunch or lunch or whatever with this man. It might give him the wrong impression.

“All due respect, but I can be a bit of a bear when I don’t eat. How about we eat and in return, I’ll do whatever you need me to for this shindig,” Oliver said.

His suggestion rankled Eve; it was the same kind of thing her father did, trying to manage her life. Like when he’d told her that he’d only pay for colleges within a ten-hour car ride. Or when she’d come back from her first semester with pink tips and he’d commanded that she stop dyeing her hair “strange” colors. The trouble with commanding her, which her dad still hadn’t learned, was that she was too much like him to bend over and take orders from any man. Which is why she’d gotten a scholarship to Hart University in Hart, Mississippi—four days of driving away—but there was little he could do once she’d accepted. And even less when she’d come back the next summer with fire-engine red hair.

When she’d graduated with her business degree, she’d lived in LA for a while, interning at a large PR firm, but when they’d offered her a position, she’d turned it down. It was an incredible opportunity, but she’d hated LA. So, she’d moved home and made a website, launching her own publicity management company, Reynolds Relations. Granted, it was a one-woman operation, but she was just getting started.

Eve knew she was lucky that her dad had called her about the Alpha Dog Training Program. If she could put together an amazing event for the US military, it would put her name on the map.

But fraternizing with Sergeant Martinez was not part of the plan, and that’s what would happen if they went to eat. They’d talk about things other than the project and she’d fall behind, all because she couldn’t say no to those beautiful blue eyes.

“As hungry as you might be, I think you can wait until our meeting is over to go grab something,” she said.

“Actually, I’m hypoglycemic. I have to eat every few hours or I could die.”

“Really? It’s amazing you’ve lasted in the armed forces so long. You know, since they’re usually not so accommodating to specific eating schedules.”

“What can I say? I’m special,” he said.

Eve bit back a smile. “I’m sure you are.”

“Now, I know you don’t mean that as a compliment, but I’m going to take it as one,” he said. “Come on, you can’t eat and work at the same time?”

No, bad idea. Get things back on track.

“Sergeant Martinez, I don’t want to stand here arguing about this. If you so desperately need to eat, then fine, we’ll go elsewhere to work. But we
will
be working.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said.

Eve sighed and walked toward the exit, the heavy sound of his boots following behind her. She was weak. That was the only explanation for how easily she’d given into him. But she would keep the focus on the event and nothing else. No personal questions. She could handle sharing a meal with the man.

It wasn’t that Sergeant Martinez made her uncomfortable—far from it. It was her reaction to him, from the moment their eyes had met, that threw her for a loop. The last thing she needed was to get involved with a military man, a lifer like her dad who put his country before everything else, even his family.

She wanted a life with a man who would be home every night. A life in which they’d make dinner together. Those hopes were why she also avoided ER doctors, pilots, lawyers . . . Basically any job with long hours and business trips were crossed off the potential husband list. She just wanted a normal, decent guy with a nine-to-five job who would love every crazy hair on her head.

Sure, she hadn’t found that guy yet, but she was only twenty-five, after all. She had time. All she knew was that she wasn’t going to find the man of her dreams in the military.

They walked through the doors, and a sheen of sweat instantly formed on Eve’s skin as the hot summer air hit her. She was overdressed for June, but the sweater covered up the red halter top, making it more business casual. Once she took it off, she’d be ready to go out for drinks with her best friends tonight.

“I’m parked right there,” he said.

“And I’m parked over here.” She stopped next to her red Mini Cooper with a smirk. “I’ll follow you.”

“There’s no sense in us taking two cars, and besides, we can work on the way.”

“Sorry, cowboy, but I don’t get in the cars of strange men,” she said.

Eve could almost hear the gears in Sergeant Martinez’s head turning, and finally, he shoved his keys back into his pocket. “Fine, I’ll ride with you.”

“Yeah, you probably don’t want to do that,” she said.

Sergeant Martinez had already rounded to the passenger side of her car. “What, are you a bad driver?”

“
Scary driver
is the term polite people use,” she said.

“Well, if you’re going to kill me, you might as well call me Oliver.”

E
VE DROVE TOWARD
the café, weaving through the cars like a speed racer and grinning with every grunt from the man next to her. She could tell he was dying to say something about her driving, but instead, he kept his mouth shut and never once told her to slow down.

She liked that. Some guys could be such whiners.

But she still wasn’t sure why she’d agreed to this. It wasn’t just that he was pretty to look at; she’d been attracted to a number of men over the years but had never even been tempted to break her number one rule: no fraternizing with unsuitable men. It was a big deal to her, and yet, here she was, ignoring the little voice screaming at her to turn the car around and go back to the program building.

No, she was pretty sure it was that he’d surprised her. Oliver had completely thrown her off her game and broken down her defenses. She’d thought he was shy and awkward when they met in the office, especially with the way the other men had teased him, but the minute they’d been alone, he’d become charming and funny.

Damn it, why did he have to be funny?

“So, your last name is Reynolds, huh? As in General Reynolds?”

Eve had been waiting for him to make the connection between her and her dad and was surprised it had taken him so long. “Yep, he’s my dad.”

“So, did he actually hire you for this or strong-arm you into helping out?”

It was a valid question that anyone who knew her dad would ask, but she still stiffened, ready to defend him. It was one thing for her to think he was an overbearing ass sometimes, but she didn’t like other people alluding to it.

“He hired me to help me out. I just started my PR company a few months ago, and this event could be great for my career,” she said. “How did you draw the short straw of helping me out?”

“Well, I didn’t volunteer,” he said.

“I didn’t think so.” She swerved into the left lane and hit the gas to pass a minivan going ten miles under the speed limit. “Asshole.”

“I’m assuming you aren’t talking to me?” he asked.

“People should not get on the freeway if they don’t know how to drive,” she said.

“Agreed.”

“Sorry, I have a bit of a road rage issue. It’s one of my many flaws.”
So much for not getting personal.
“Anyways, not many guys want to plan parties. At least, not many straight ones.”

“Is that your way of asking me if I’m on the down low?” he asked.

Eve’s cheeks burned because that was exactly what she’d been doing. “No, of course not. It’s none of my business what team you bat for.”

He laughed, the deep rumble sending a quiver through her body. “Since we’re talking about it, I like women.”

What kind of women, I wonder.

She didn’t ask, though, because that was definitely something personal, and she’d already overstepped the line with him. Several times.

“I also happen to have two younger sisters. Twins. And after helping with
quinceañeras
, proms, and weddings, I will probably be more help than you think.”

The information was delivered with a touch of exasperation, but beneath it was a warm tone she recognized. An affection that said he loved his family no matter how much they aggravated him and would lay down his life for them.

Eve knew that tone well. It was the same one she used when talking about her brother and parents. Even when they were making her nuts, family was family.

“Quinceañeras?”
She’d heard the word and knew it was some kind of party, but that was about it.

“Yeah, when a girl turns fifteen, her parents throw a huge party to celebrate,” he said. “Fancy dresses, lots of people. It’s a big deal. You want to get off on Tenth and make a left.”

“Wow. All I got for my fifteenth birthday was my permit and gift cards.” She exited the freeway and turned left.

“Yeah, I can’t remember my fifteenth birthday. It’s more of a girl thing. Besides, I’m not sure I’d look good in a ball gown,” he said. “It’s up there on the left.”

Liar. You’d probably look good in anything.

“So, what’s your plan for this thing, anyway?” he asked.

Gripping the steering wheel, she made a sharp left into the café parking lot, the sound of a horn blaring loudly as she crossed in front of several cars. “I was thinking a bachelor auction.”

As she parked, Oliver scoffed. “I don’t think you’ll get very many volunteers for something like that.”

“I wasn’t talking about you guys. I was talking about the dogs,” she said. She climbed out of the car and smoothed her skirt. She liked to at least look put together, even if it wasn’t how she felt.

“The dogs? Seriously? How is that going to work?” Oliver caught up with her just as she stepped onto the sidewalk in front of the café and reached past her to get the door. Before she could walk through, three women in their early forties came out, eyeing Oliver like he was a piece of smooth milk chocolate.

“Ladies, have a good day,” Oliver said behind her. He had moved closer, pressing his big, muscular body against her back, and she felt drops of perspiration run down her forehead that had nothing to do with the heat. No, her sudden rise in temperature definitely had more to do with Oliver’s proximity.

“You, too,” one of the ladies said, while the other two giggled.

When they were far enough away, Eve asked, “You got a thing for cougars?”

“Cougars? Come on, they weren’t old enough to be my mother,” he said.

Eve stepped into the café with a snort. “I see you didn’t answer my question.”

“This way.” Oliver pointed, indicating a table free in the middle. Once they were seated, he added, “Are you asking because you really want to know?”

“Honestly, it’s none of my business the kind of women you like.” Eve grabbed a paper menu from the holder behind the salt and pepper, cursing silently. She couldn’t seem to curb her reaction to him. Yes, she wanted to know what kind of women he liked, but she had no right to ask. She would just be setting him up to think she was interested in whatever he had, but she didn’t want complicated and she definitely didn’t need heartache. “I was just making an observation.”

“But you’re curious,” Oliver prodded.

Eve looked up and met the blue depths of his eyes, but she was unprepared for the heat in them. Or the challenge. Whatever answer he had waiting for her was a loaded one, and she knew she shouldn’t ask.

“Are you ready to order?” the server asked, coming up alongside their table. She was a young African American woman with brightly colored string weaved into her intricate braids, and she looked weary.

“Actually, I need a few minutes,” Eve said, glancing at Oliver.

“I’ll just have a coke for now,” he said.

“Okay, I’ll come back in a few minutes,” the server said.

But before she could leave, Eve said, “I have to tell you, I love your hair.”

The server’s face brightened. “Thank you, I just got it done a few days ago.”

“Well, it’s fabulous, and I love the colors,” Eve said.

“Thank you.” As she walked away, Eve noticed a new skip in the woman’s step and couldn’t stop grinning as she looked at her menu.

“That was nice of you,” Oliver said.

Eve glanced up at him and raised her eyebrow. “What? Telling her I like her hair? I do.”

“I think it was more about making her feel good, though. Am I right?” Oliver said.

Eve shrugged. “She looked like she was having a bad day.”

Oliver laughed, and she glared at him suspiciously. “What?”

“Nothing, it’s just . . . You’re so nice,” he said.