Erica had gone to bed alone. Alone, and painfully sober.
Had she really kissed Jeremy last night? Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid. She had nothing to offer him. Nothing he would want, anyway. She wasn’t the same girl he’d idolized. No, not idolized. Idealized.
She was as far from anyone’s ideal as a woman could get.
And he was a Marine. He’d leave her soon, shipped off to God knew where, and she’d be single and alone when he left. Even if they tried anything, it was doomed to failure. Long distance relationships never worked. How could theirs?
Not to mention she’d be a wreck while he was gone, wondering who was shooting at him today, if he’d come home short one leg but with a little surplus shrapnel, if he’d never come home at all.
She rolled over and buried her face in the pillow. She was getting ahead of herself. Jeremy was off limits. He deserved better. Deserved more. She was just a scarred, broken shell of the Erica he’d loved. She laughed and joked around with him, but only because he brought back old memories. Happy ones. There would never be long nights alone, wondering if her lover was under enemy fire, hoping and praying for him to come home safe.
Though that wouldn’t stop her from worrying anyway.
She rolled out of bed. She’d drop him off at his hotel, move on with her life, and only let herself worry in those quiet moments before sleep when she couldn’t lie to herself anymore. It had been fun seeing him again, but that’s all it was. Fun.
If she got rid of him now, she wouldn’t end up blurting out her secret like the blabbermouth she’d been in grade school. Wouldn’t have to see his face cloud over with revulsion. Wouldn’t have to dwell on that one sweet kiss…and how she’d reacted to it.
Though she’d never forget how he’d looked at her, in that moment before he kissed her. As if he’d loved her through the years, across the distance, and would love her through anything.
Wishful thinking.
She threw on a T-shirt and tucked it securely into a pair of khaki shorts before descending the stairs. Time to break the news that she wanted him out. Calm. Composed. It wasn’t like she was facing down a killer at trial. It was just Jeremy.
Somehow, that was even more terrifying.
It was only seven, so Jeremy was probably still passed out in the guest room—or so she thought, until she rounded the corner and practically collided with the scent of fried eggs and bacon. Her mouth watered. What was that madman up to?
She peeked into the kitchen and found Jeremy standing over the stove, barefoot and flipping eggs in a pan. He was topless save for his dog tags. Every time he turned, they swayed against his chest, drawing her eye unerringly to the dip between his pectorals and the taut stretch of muscle there.
The coffeemaker beeped as if announcing her arrival. He glanced up, caught her eye, and grinned. “Good morning.”
Erica stammered, frozen in place. He chuckled and turned back to the eggs. Another flip of the spatula, and his biceps flexed alarmingly. She closed her eyes, curled her fingers, and reminded herself to breathe.
Her voice was irritatingly unsteady when she managed to speak. “Bacon grease. I mean, um, you could get burned. By bacon grease. It splashes.”
Chalk one up for Captain Obvious.
He tossed another look at her, this one quizzical. “I’ll be fine.”
“You wouldn’t say that if you ended up with scars everywhere from third-degree burns,” she snapped. “You wouldn’t be so nonchalant then.”
“Jesus, you don’t have to bite my head off.”
He set the spatula down and turned to look at her, much too discerningly. She swallowed and tried to smile. “Sorry. I just don’t want you to get hurt. I’ll go get you a clean shirt, okay?”
He crossed the kitchen quickly and curled his hand against her elbow, his grip warm and gentle. “Erica, are you all right?”
His eyes probed hers. She looked away. “Yes. I’m fine.” No, I’m not.
She tugged free of his hold, spun on her heel, and almost ran from the kitchen. She had to escape the allure that coiled around him like a snake. If she stayed too close, it just might bite.
In the guest room, she took her time digging out another shirt. By the time she returned to the kitchen, she felt more in control, and handed the shirt over with a rueful smile.
“Here you go.”
He pulled the shirt on, and she sighed as those perfectly rippled abdominals disappeared. He quirked a brow, and she coughed.
“Breakfast smells delicious.”
And strike two for Captain Obvious.
She wished he’d say something. Anything to make her feel less awkward. She brushed past him and retrieved two mugs from a cabinet. From the corner of her eye, she watched him…and wished she hadn’t. The hunger in his eyes made her shiver and avert her gaze.
“I didn’t know you cooked,” she forced out.
He shrugged and turned back to the stove. “I’ve been single a long time. If I don’t do it, no one else will.”
“Yeah, I get that.” She nodded and filled both mugs with steaming coffee.
With deft movements, he slid eggs, bacon, and silverware onto two plates, and turned to offer her one. His handsome face was a little less swollen this morning, a little more defined, and his mouth seemed a little less alarmingly red. He managed to grin without flinching, an improvement over last night.
“Erica?”
She shook herself. Crap, he was still holding the plate, and looking at her like she’d just started singing the national anthem in Swahili. “Um. Yeah. Sorry.”
“For what?”
“Nothing. Just…nothing.” She took her plate and both mugs of coffee, and led him into the dining room. “Thank you for cooking. It’s very sweet.”
“No problem.”
She set one of the mugs at her place, one at his, and slid into her seat. Jeremy dropped down across from her and dove into his eggs. Erica took a more cautious bite, then closed her eyes with a blissful sound. Not only was he gorgeous, but he cooked like a damned rock star.
So not fair.
“Wow. You really know your way around the kitchen. I thought you were just showing off.”
“Me? Show off? Please. I’m just so naturally attractive to members of the opposite sex that it just seems like I’m showing off. This is all me, baby.”
“Call me ‘baby’ one more time, jerk.”
He grinned. “Anything you want, baby.”
She picked up a crumbled bit of bacon and threw it at him. He laughed and held his hands up, warding it off. She hated to admit it, but she’d missed this. He’d always let his playful side out around her, something he’d never let many people see. It had always made her feel special. Stupid, but true.