Carolina Man (20 page)

An answering smile started deep in his eyes. “I can manage that.”

Their faces were almost on a level. He leaned forward slightly, still smiling, and touched her lips with his gently, softly, the way he’d touched her hair. She sighed and kissed him back, the bloom opening in her chest, her kiss warm and openmouthed. Luke surged to his feet, bringing her with him, pulling her flush against him, and she raised on tiptoe, finding their fit. He was tall and strong and hard against her, already aroused, the feel of him unexpectedly familiar, shockingly right. Sensation spilled inside her.

“Do you have time?” she whispered between kisses.

“Got five minutes?”

She jolted. “Um . . .”

He grinned. “It was a joke.”

“Oh. Ha-ha.”

He drew back his head, regarding her with half-closed eyes, all that beautiful blue smoldering behind straight, thick lashes. “Do you trust me?”

“Yes.” Well, sort of. She didn’t let herself rely on anyone. But she liked and admired him very much.

He kissed the tip of her nose and then her cheek and then her lips. “You can trust me.” Another slow, melting grin. “I’ve never left a woman behind.”

She flushed. Did he mean sexually? Or was he trying to tell her he didn’t have a woman in every port? They’d already disclosed their sexual histories. She wasn’t expecting him to make a commitment after one night.

His mouth came down on hers, harder, more insistent, and her thoughts were smothered, blanketed by heat. He picked her up, holding her butt in his big hands, and she wrapped her legs around his waist because, really, where else could they go? He carried her into the bedroom—he knew the way this time—while she held on to his shoulders, appreciating his strength and the lovely play of muscles in his arms and back and neck. Their bodies rubbed together lower down, and that was lovely, too. He set her down by the bed and unbuttoned her skirt. She helped, pulling her blouse over her head, shivering a little in her lacy bra and panties.

He hooked one warm, callused finger into the string over her hip and smiled into her eyes. “Very pretty.”

Her heart beat faster. “I wore the good stuff.”
For you
.

His smile deepened. “I wasn’t talking about your underwear, babe,” he said and tugged it down.

He laid her down across her bed. Her knees fell apart, her feet barely touching the floor. She felt exposed. Naked. Well, of course she was naked. He was undressing, too. She watched him take off his clothes, savoring the sight of him, his solid chest, his washboard abs, the trail of coarse hair that led from just below his navel to his dusky, rigid sex. She had seen his tattoos before. Now, in the light, she studied his scars: the pale puckered slash like a sickle along his ribs; the constellation of small, dark, pitted scars under his arm; a half-dozen lines, nicks, and dents she’d only felt with her fingertips before.

You’re a warrior. A survivor. Like me
.

The thought of what he had endured, had survived, pressed like a weight on her heart.

He stood over her, damaged and beautiful, and her insides squeezed together with longing, as if she could pull him inside her. She held out her arms.

But he only pushed her legs wide, kneeling on the floor beside her bed. A quiver tensed her stomach. She didn’t want . . . She didn’t need . . . They didn’t have time for . . .

That
.

“Um, Luke?” She raised her head from the mattress.

His big hands slid down her thighs, lifting her legs over his broad, smooth shoulders. Her heels touched his back.

He smiled at her, his eyes gleaming. “Do you trust me, babe?”

The question took on a whole other meaning with his head between her thighs. She squirmed a little. “It’s not a question of trust,” she said with as much dignity as she could manage flat on her back with her knees apart, all of her on display. What was she supposed to
do
with herself while he was . . . down there?

“It’s just not necessary,” she assured him. “What we did before was fine.”

His warm laugh gusted over her flesh, danced along her nerve endings.

“Let’s see if we can do better than fine,” he suggested and lowered his head.

Oh, goodness. He lavished her with sensation, making her body jolt and yearn, hitching closer, jerking away. He hunted her response, wringing it from her flesh, his hands and mouth relentless. Thorough. She raised her arm, shielding her eyes from the unbearable intimacy, but that only intensified the press of sensations, the sounds, animal, embarrassing, the rasp of her breathing and her moans, the wet, rich, intimate smells of sex. All her senses sharpened, focused, spiraling down, and she closed her eyes behind her arm and went into the heat and the dark, consenting and consumed. She gave herself up to the edge of his teeth, the play of his tongue, the searching, searing pressure of his mouth, and the tension inside her coiled tighter and tighter until it broke like spring, like a fever, drenching her in heat. So much, she couldn’t bear it.

She lay in a kind of fever dream as he crawled over her, sheathing himself in a condom before he settled between her legs. His erection prodded her thigh, rubbed and slid against her sex. She was all soft, soft and wet and open under him. And empty. She felt so empty. She tilted her hips to meet his, wrapping her arms and legs around him, taking him for herself, all that muscle, all that strength and heat and determination, taking him inside her, hot and thick inside her. He filled her, stretched her, thrusting in a heavy rhythm that made her pant, and incredibly the tension was back, making her strain and twist against him as he pounded inside her.

“Oh, God, Kate,” he said, and she opened her eyes and saw his face, taut and sweaty above her, his eyes dark and hot. Seeing her. Wanting her. She broke again in silky spasms, and this time he drove deep and shuddered with her into the dark.

 • • • 

K
ATE WENT OUT
like a light after sex.

She didn’t cuddle, Luke thought, regarding the curve of her spine, the inky black scales of justice rising like wings above her shoulder blade. She didn’t want to talk about her feelings or go on about their relationship. She basically rolled over and conked out like a guy.
Thanks for the sex
, down and done.

He wasn’t sure if he should take her reaction as a tribute to his awesome sex god skills or not.

She’d said she wanted to feel better. From the noises she’d made, he figured he’d done that for her, at least. Anyway,
he
sure felt good.

He raised himself on one elbow, tracing a finger along her shoulder. Not trying to wake her, just wanting to touch her. She was so pretty, her coppery hair bright against the pillow, her face relaxed in sleep. Freckles dusted her creamy skin like the body glitter girls used to wear back in high school, but soft. He rubbed his thumb over her arm, sniffed her neck. Everything about her was soft and smooth and warm. He could lay like this beside her forever.

Whoa. Where had
that
come from?

But he knew. The thing was, he’d always assumed that one day he would find what his parents had. That unspoken communication, that unquestioning trust, that rock-solid foundation.

He was twenty-nine years old, older than his dad when Matt was born, older than most of the guys in his unit who were married. Now that Matt and Allison had set a date, and Meg had dumped that loser in New York and looked to be settling down with Sam Grady, Luke figured he was next in line. Not that he felt any pressure to measure up to their example, to follow their lead, the way he had all through childhood.

He loved the island, but he wasn’t at home there anymore the way that Matt was. Couldn’t reconnect with his high school peers the way that Meg had. Islanders shared the same experiences, growing up with the easy rhythms of the coastal seasons, going to school or to sea, pairing up, having kids.

His ten years of service had set him apart.

The raucous cries of the seabirds made him flinch now. A whiff of diesel from the boats in the harbor could plunge him back into the streets of Afghanistan.

This last tour had changed something inside him. Or maybe he only felt that way now that he was back.

He wanted to be . . . normal. To have an ordinary life, a house and kids.

Well, he had the kid part down already. He had Taylor now.

And a house, if you could call his parents’ rental cottage that. And a dog. And a cat.

All of them waiting for him.

He sighed and kissed Kate’s shoulder. He wasn’t making the mistake of rushing out on her again.

She made a little snuffling sound, too cute to be called a snore.

He grinned. “Babe.”

“Mm.”

“I’ve got to go.”

“’kay.”

She did not wake up like a Marine, alert and ready to fight. He tried again. “I’ll see you.”

She nodded, her head still firmly planted on her pillow. If he left now, she could claim with perfect truth that she didn’t remember him saying good-bye.

“I thought Christmas,” he said.

Her eyes opened.

Yeah
, he thought, amused.
That got your attention
.

“I can’t come for Christmas.” She sounded almost panicked. She rolled on her back to face him, so that her breasts moved in interesting ways under the sheet. “That’s family time.”

He lifted his gaze from her breasts. The best defense, he decided, was a good offense. “You don’t like my family?”

“Of course I . . .” She glared at him. “That’s not the point.”

He knew that. Kate had spent so many years running away from family. He would have to work hard to make her accept being part of a family again.

“Just think about it,” he said.

Once she got used to the idea . . . Everybody liked his family. If she’d just give them a chance, give him a chance, she’d see.

“I
DON’T SEE
why I have to clean up the yard.”

Taylor’s voice carried from the kitchen in the Pirates’ Rest to the laundry room, where Luke was attempting to sort their clothes. Did he wash his daughter’s red sweater with his khakis or with jeans? And what about her leggings?

“It’s not like anybody’s coming to stay,” Taylor continued, sounding snotty.

“We don’t just clean for guests,” Tess said in an admirably patient voice. “And you promised your dad that you would take care of the puppy.”

“I
am
taking care of him. I took him out twice today. He hasn’t gone in the house hardly at all.”

Luke had heard enough. He dumped detergent into the washing machine and stalked into the kitchen, delighted to have an excuse to take a break from laundry. “You’re responsible for your own messes. And your dog’s.”

Taylor and his mother turned to him with nearly identical expressions of surprise. Tess didn’t say anything.

Taylor’s face turned tragic. “But I’m going to Madison’s this afternoon. Her mom got the new Wii dance game. She’s
expecting
me.”

He was glad his daughter was making friends. But that didn’t excuse her from her responsibilities. “So you’ll dance after you pick up the dog poop.”

“Fine. I’ll pick up JD’s. But I don’t see why I should pick up after Fezzik. Let Josh do it.”

Josh would do it. Probably without treating them all to some big drama.

“Taylor,” Luke said warningly.

She heaved a sigh. “All right. I’ll do it when I get back.”

Luke gave his daughter his best deadeye stare, the one that sent his men scrambling.

Her chin stuck out mulishly. “What? I said I’d do it.”

“Now.”

“Fine.” She grabbed a plastic grocery bag from under the sink, slamming the cabinet with a crack like a gunshot.

Luke flinched. He tried to think of what Matt would say. Or Kate. But what came out of his mouth was, “And apologize to your grandmother.”

“Sorry,” Taylor muttered.

She banged out the back door.

Luke exhaled through his teeth. “Sorry,” he said to his mother in almost the same tone Taylor had used.

Tess smiled. “For what?”

“I could’ve handled that better.” Should have handled that better. What would Matt have done?

“You handled that fine.” Tess patted his cheek. “I think it’s wonderful that Taylor feels secure enough with you to act like a normal ten-year-old.”

“Mouthing off like that is normal?”

“At her age? Yes. She’s a preteen girl. Her hormones are just starting to kick in.”

Luke felt the blood drain from his head. He was just getting used to the idea that he was a father. He didn’t want to think about his baby girl with . . . hormones.

Tess laughed, taking pity on him. “You’ll be fine. I expect she’s still adjusting to having you home. Testing, the way you all used to whenever your father returned from a deployment.” She smiled, a little ruefully. “It takes a while to establish the appropriate chain of command.”

Luke thought of Corporal Danny Hill and his wife.
Stephanie’s been handling everything on her own for eleven months . . . Have you told her how proud you are of her?

He looked at his mom, her strong hands and frail frame, her face lined with humor and pain, her brave new hair color blazing like a battle standard.

Her cane, resting against the kitchen counter.

He’d accepted that his coming home would be an adjustment for Taylor. But until this moment, he had still regarded his own mother with the eyes and habits of a child. Matt had tried to tell him. But Luke hadn’t fully appreciated what his going . . . and coming . . . and going again would mean for Mom. For both his parents. They would soldier on, without question or complaint.
Back to back
, the way they had taught their children. But after so many tours of duty, they must be getting tired.

He felt as if the ground had shifted under his feet, changing forever his internal landscape.

“Mom . . .”

She smiled at him, brows a little arched, the same questioning, patient look he remembered from his childhood.
Who left out the lunch meat? Did you study for your chemistry test? How did tryouts go?

What could he say?
Sorry for taking you for granted
?
Sorry for taking so long to grow up
? “Thanks.”

Her cheeks turned pink with pleasure. “Oh, honey. You’re welcome. What else?”

“What?”

“I know that look. Something’s on your mind.”

He barely resisted the urge to shuffle his feet. “I, uh, invited Kate Dolan for dinner.”

Tess tilted her head. “Really?” An interested trill like a bird’s.

Manfully, he continued. “On Christmas Day.”

Her eyes widened. “Tom! Tom, come here.”

Oh, shit.

His father appeared from the living room at the front of the house, where he was setting up the train set around the big tree.

Tess took his arm. “Tom, Luke’s invited Kate for Christmas.”

His father’s bushy gray eyebrows climbed. “You dating the lawyer now?”

Dating. Having sex with
. “Yes.”

Tom nodded, hearing what Luke did not say. “You could do worse. Bit soon to have her around for Christmas dinner, though.”

He could tell them she didn’t have anywhere else to go, play on their sympathies. Or he could tell them the truth. “I want her here. She hasn’t said yes yet.”

Tess’s eyes narrowed at this perceived slight to her younger son. “Why not?”

“She doesn’t want to horn in on family time.”

“Hm,” was his mother’s only comment.

“You haven’t known her long,” Tom said.

Luke held his father’s gaze. “Longer than two weeks.”

It was one of their family’s stories. Tom Fletcher met Teresa Saltoni when he was at Great Lakes Naval Base and she was waiting tables at her parents’ restaurant in Chicago’s Little Italy. Two weeks later, they were married.

Tom grunted. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”

So did Luke.

Kate was itchy enough over this whole family business without taking flak from his folks. He loved them a lot, but as a group, they could be pretty overwhelming. There was no telling what Meg would say. Or Josh. Or Taylor.

He glanced out the window at his daughter, scooping poop in the yard.

His life right now.

He went out on the deck to supervise.

Taylor glowered and bent to her work. He was still not forgiven, then. But the puppy wandered over the grass to greet him, tail flopping cheerfully. Luke rubbed its tummy. The dog, at least, was delighted with the poop-hunting game. As soon as Taylor stooped with her trowel, JD bounded over to investigate before licking her face. Taylor jerked her head away and then grinned, pure kid.

Luke relaxed, feeling less like a prison guard. He reached for his cigarettes, glanced at Taylor and shoved his hands deep in his pockets instead.

A blue-and-white patrol car crunched over the oyster shell drive and parked behind the inn.

Dare had its own police department now, Luke remembered. The town had taken the unusual step of incorporating to give the residents more control over the forces of tourism and development on their island, to protect them against outsiders.

But the cop who got out of the patrol car was a stranger.

Luke shouldn’t have been surprised. He’d been gone a long time. And the population on Dare shifted over time like the barrier islands themselves, constantly eroded and renewed by the tides.

He watched as the cop came up the walk, not swaggering, but moving deliberately, aware of his surroundings. Midthirties, Luke judged, boxer’s build, a little over average height. Dark and closely shaved in navy blue uniform pants and shirt. Unassuming. Confident. Like he knew what he was doing.

What was a guy like that doing writing traffic tickets for drunk tourists on Dare Island? And why the hell was he here?

He stopped a few yards away from the bottom of the steps.
Out of the kill zone
. Ex-military, maybe. “Staff Sergeant Fletcher?”

Luke hid his surprise. “Luke.”

“Jack Rossi.”

They shook hands. Rossi’s grip was solid and strong, nothing to prove. His gaze was dark and direct. Nothing to hide.

“Hi, Chief,” Taylor said.

Rossi glanced down, his hard face softening. “Hi, Taylor. How’s it going?”

“You know each other?” Luke asked.

“I swing by the school most days,” Rossi said easily. “Part of the job.”

“Hearts and minds,” Luke said.

They exchanged looks. “Exactly.”

“The chief came to talk to our class about drugs,” Taylor said.

“In fourth grade?” Hormones and drugs. Jesus. Couldn’t she stay ten forever? At least until he got the hang of this fatherhood thing.

“Early intervention,” Rossi said.

Taylor gave Luke a pointed look. “We learned about smoking, too.”

Ten, going on thirty
.

“Nice dog.” Rossi squatted and offered a hand to JD, who promptly peed in excitement. “Yours?”

Taylor nodded. “My dad brought him home. From Afghanistan.” From the pride in her voice, Luke deduced he was now forgiven for making her clean the yard. She looked at him directly. “Can I go to Madison’s now?”

“Wash your hands first.”

She nodded and ran to the cottage. JD trotted after her.

“Nice kid,” Rossi said in the same tone he’d used for the dog.

“Yeah.”
Enough with the pleasantries
. “What can I do for you, Chief?”

“Jack.” He stood. “Heard you had a little excitement at the courthouse the other day.”

“That’s out of your jurisdiction, isn’t it, Jack?”

The chief shrugged. “I’ve got friends in the sheriff’s department. I was wondering—now that you’re on this side of the bridge—if there’s anything else going on I haven’t heard about yet. Some guys get back, they don’t handle things too well. They hit their wives, they drive too fast, they drink too much. I just want you to know I’m here.”

Reassurance? Or threat?

“Everything’s fine,” Luke said.

Those dark eyes met his. “I was in the Tagab Valley myself—2004, before I got out.”

The Tagab Valley in the Surobi District of Afghanistan. In 2004, Luke had been on embassy security in Kabul. “MP?” Luke asked.

“Sniper.”

O-kay
. All Marines were riflemen. But even among Marines, the brutal intimacy of the snipers’ job set them apart.

Jack smiled briefly. “I’m not much for war stories. But if you need an ear, I’ll listen.”

Every day a vet committed suicide. More Marines were falling to the enemy within than to the Taliban. It was easy to understand the chief’s concern.

And hard not to resent it.

Sniper
. If anybody should have problems adjusting, it should be a guy who made a personal ID of each kill.

“Appreciate the offer,” Luke said. “But it’s not necessary.”

The back door opened.

“Chief Rossi!” Tess said. “I thought I saw your patrol car. Is everything all right?”

“Yes, ma’am. Was just welcoming your son here home.”

“Well, that was nice of you. You’ll be going home yourself soon, won’t you?”

“Ma’am?”

“For Christmas. Don’t you have family up north? New Jersey or someplace.”

Luke narrowed his eyes. Was his mother
flirting
with the new police chief?

“Pennsylvania,” Rossi said. “But I won’t get up there this year.”

“Too far?” she asked sympathetically.

“Too busy.” Another brief smile. “I’ve got one part-time officer for backup. Until I can hire more staff, I’m working a lot of holidays.”

“Then you’ll have to come here for dinner. You do get time to eat, don’t you? On Christmas Day?”

“I’ll eat, yes.” He glanced at Luke. “But I don’t want to intrude.”

Well, hell. Luke didn’t want Jack Rossi here for Christmas. He wanted Kate.

But Rossi was a fellow Marine, alone for the holidays.

Luke smiled. “Looks like we’ll have a chance to swap war stories after all.”

 • • • 

A
THIN RAIN
fell over Beaufort harbor. Many of the boats had been dry docked for the season, and those that remained were shrouded, floating on the gray water like gulls with folded wings. But the drab scene outside only made the inside of the bar seem snug and warm. The beer signs and Christmas lights glowed and twinkled.