Her Sexy Marine Valentine(10)

"Nice to meet you, Mari. You can call me Brenton. Are you trying to calculate how old I am?"

"I was thinking more along the lines of asking you to share your skin-care secrets."

The men around them chuckled, as did the CO. "Love a woman with a sense  of humor," he said as he let go of her hand. "Carissa is my adopted  daughter. When my sister and her husband were involved in a fatal car  accident, I took responsibility for her. And, well, the rest is a long  story for another day." Pain flitted across his face before he forced  another smile.

"That explains it. I didn't mean to pry."

"No worse than the twenty questions you're going to get today," he  said. "This is the first time Brody has brought someone special to one  of our events. I have a feeling everyone is going to be curious."

Mari hoped they weren't too curious. She and Brody had only known each  other a short while. If folks were too probing about what she knew about  his past, she was sunk. And vice versa.                       
       
           



       

Whenever she and Brody were alone they talked about everyday things  like movies, music and food. And they spent an inordinate amount of time  discussing paint colors and what size moldings should go upstairs  versus downstairs. They never talked about anything personal. After that  one night over tacos, when he'd gone silent after she'd asked about why  he couldn't drink, she'd shied away from asking him about private  stuff.

"I won't lie. It's a bit overwhelming meeting everyone at once, but it's great to put faces to the names."

"So Brody's been talking about us?" the CO commented.

She shrugged. "I don't think you Marines talk much about anything." The  guys around her chuckled some more. "And I'm afraid when we're together  we're usually discussing what to do next with my money pit of a house."  Sticking with the truth would make them seem genuine. She put an arm  around Brody's waist and hugged him tight. "I don't know what I'd do  without him. Hardest working man I've ever met."

Brody's arm squeezed her and he kissed her hair. For a fake relationship, everything felt amazingly real.

"So, Brody didn't tell us, what is it that you do?" the CO asked.

"Interior designer," she replied. "I have private clients, but I also  work with builders in the area to help design the interior features of  their homes. It's creative and fun, and that's what always appealed to  me about it."

"Interesting," Commander Gray said. She was pretty sure he was merely  being polite. She wasn't offended. These men and women dealt in  life-and-death terms every day on the job. "I'm a big fan of older  homes, they usually have more character, whereas Carissa likes anything  new."

"Mari's a great decorator, but she's also very involved in  preservation," Brody said. "You should see what she's doing with her  house. She calls it the money pit, and maybe it is, but it's going to be  a showplace when she's done. And she's sticking close to its historical  details." He sounded so proud, but she was more impressed that he'd  been paying attention.

"Like I said, he's been the hardest worker ever. I'm lucky to have him."

"I'd say he's pretty lucky to have you." The CO smiled. He seemed so  nice, not at all the gruff old guy Brody had been describing to her. But  then she knew that some people could have two faces. The one they used  when in private, and the other when in public. She realized her ex had  been that way. "And you finally got him to one of our outings. He's  going to make a great leader some day."

Awww. See. He is nice.

Brody frowned as if he couldn't believe what the man had just said.  Didn't Brody know what a great guy he was? Then she remembered what  Brody told her about the CO always giving him a hard time. Maybe it was  because he was grooming Brody for something bigger. Maybe the  team-building stuff was more about him showing his potential as a  leader. That would explain a lot.

"Well, on that, you and I can agree. I thought I was organized and  efficient until I met him. You Marines really are the whole package."

"You've got a good one there, Marine. Take care of her."

"Yes, sir. I do," Brody said and he again squeezed Mari to him.

"Looks like the grub is ready," one of the men said.

Thank goodness. Saved by hungry Marines. She was afraid if the  conversation went on too long she might say something that'd give her  and Brody away.

"Let's eat," the CO said.

Mari was glad for the interruption, but she wasn't sure she'd be able  to eat anything. Brody wasn't the only one who was nervous.

He held her back as the others headed for the tent. "Thank you," he  said in a low whisper. "He actually paid me a compliment. I don't think  that's ever happened."

She winked at him. "I bet he was trying to be a wingman of sorts. Trying to help me see you are a great guy."

"The CO as a wingman. That's funny."

"I know, right? As if you'd need help getting a woman. You probably  have women propositioning you all the time. Since you needed me to chase  them off, that says a lot." She meant it as a joke, but he didn't look  happy.                       
       
           



       

"I'm not some womanizer. It's important to me that you know that. It's  also true that I don't do committed relationships, but I don't sleep  with every woman I meet."

Okay, she wasn't really sure where he was going with that. Why would he  care what she thought of him? "It's fine." She lowered her voice. "It's  not really any of my business who you...uh. Yeah. You know what? I'm  really hungry. Let's go grab some barbeque."

Maybe they were better off not discussing anything too personal. When  he'd mentioned other women her stomach had twisted and knotted. Thinking  about him with other women wasn't her idea of fun. Still, it shouldn't  matter, she reminded herself. Why did she have such a problem with his  love life? They were just friends. Um. Friends who occasionally ogled  one another.

No big deal.





6

BRODY FILLED HIS plate with barbeque, beans and tons of potato salad,  and guided Mari to one of the picnic tables positioned under some shade.  She'd held her own with the CO. He'd never seen the man smile or laugh  like that. Mari had made him do both. She'd even coerced a kind word  from him. That had never happened. Leader, my ass.

Unexpectedly, it had really bothered him that she thought he was the  kind of guy who was only interested in one thing from women. True, when  he'd come back from the last tour, he might have drunk more than he  should have and gone home with more women than he should have, but that  had only lasted a few months. When he became the senior instructor on  base, he'd cleaned up his act...and fast.

That and he'd discovered the alcohol was contributing to his headaches.  It seemed that nothing could make him forget what had happened at the  end of that last tour.

Here he was alive and his friends were dead. He was thankful he'd  caught on fairly quickly that drinking and carousing were not the  answers. In their place, hard work and exercise had become his new  demons of choice.

Except, he admitted, when he was with Mari. The hours he passed when he  was with her went by so fast, he found himself disappointed each night  when it was time for him to go home.

She was right, it shouldn't matter what she thought of him, but it did.  In the last week, they'd become real friends. Good friends, in fact.  And he'd been honest with her in the truck. He would rather spend time  with her than anyone else.

He and Mari sat across from one of the men in his unit and his family.  Mark had a toddler, a boy, sitting on his knee, and his wife held a baby  girl. At least Brody thought it was a girl-the kid had a bow in the  little bit of hair on her head.

"Your children are lovely. And so well behaved," Mari said as she and Brody got set to eat. "How old are they?"

Brody had been wondering the same thing. He took a bite of his barbeque.

"Thank you," Mark's wife laughed. "Most days I feel grateful if we all get out of the house dressed and with shoes on."

"I can't even imagine what it must be like with little ones. I can barely take care of myself most days. By the way, I'm Mari."

"I'm Leslie, that's my husband, Mark. He's holding Jacob, who is  eighteen months, and this is Lily. She is four months old and doesn't  understand why she can't have my brisket."

They all laughed.

"I don't know who brought this potato salad, but it's made with  mustard. I tried to take almost all of it, but Leslie wouldn't let me,"  Mark said.

"My Mari made it," Brody said proudly.