Her Sexy Marine Valentine(3)

Whatever. The cheating jerk acted like everything was her fault.

"You're too vanilla, Mari," Gary had said. "I'm not sure I've ever been  this bored in bed. I shouldn't have cheated on you, but after that one  night at the convention I knew what I was missing. And then I couldn't  help myself. You're just not it for me."

Queasiness hit, as it did whenever she remembered his words. He could  have shot her and left her for dead that day and she wouldn't have been  more surprised.

It wasn't the first time a romance of hers had gone down in flames.  She'd dated her fair share of Garys, but she'd thought this one was  different. Even if their ideas on design clashed, and he didn't like  Mexican food and he demanded the towels be folded in halves, when she  liked them another way. Who didn't go for a three-quarter fold? It  always looked nice on the towel rack.

That should have been my first clue. Still, it didn't keep her ex's  words from churning through her head in a hateful litany. All right,  fine, so she wasn't an expert when it came to sex, and she'd had to fake  the majority of her orgasms with Gary.

Oh, who am I kidding? I faked them all. But she didn't imagine she was boring in bed.

Now Gary was with a model? And she didn't even know what bygones meant.  But she was probably great in bed, which evidently was Gary's primary  criteria when it came to the woman he wanted to marry. Engaged. Already.

Ugh.

She rolled her shoulders, trying to ease the tension, and took a couple deep breaths. It's what she did to release the nerves.

I'm definitely better off without him. That fact didn't keep the  loneliness at bay, however; and all the good guys in Corpus Christi  seemed to be taken or unavailable. Even the hot, sexy Marine from across  the street was too good to be true. He had women like the redhead  throwing herself at him and there he was turning her down. How could  Mari compete with that? Not to mention, what if she did sleep with him  and he thought she was boring?

Why are you even thinking about sleeping with him?

Come on. How could she not? Those biceps and that smile. When he'd  thanked her ex at the grocery store for giving her up, her heart had  skipped a beat. She had to remind herself he was too good to be true.

But it felt wonderful to have him in her corner. And that fish face Gary had made, that was the best.

No, it wouldn't do at all for her to think about Brody as anything more than a nice neighbor.

Although he might be able to assist her with the one thing she needed most.

She'd seen him in uniform a couple of times and he was breathtaking.  After he'd carried in her flooring that day, she kept meaning to take  him cookies or maybe bake him a pie. But without a real kitchen it  wasn't easy.

She stirred the meat and then returned to chopping.

Her cell rang and she checked it. Mom again. She swiped the screen,  making the phone silent. She didn't have time for this. And she knew it  was only her parents checking in. They were still worried about her  breakup with Gary even though it had been months ago.

Her ex's expression when he'd taken in Brody had been hilarious. As if  the idea had never occurred to him that she could attract someone like  the Marine.

Even if she couldn't, she sort of loved the fact that now Gary would think she'd traded up, silly or not.

Brody...he was all man. Those biceps under his black T-shirt could not  be denied. And when she'd leaned against him, those abs she'd touched  were washboard-hard. That was the third time she'd thought about his  abs.                       
       
           



       

No. Do not go there.

Admittedly, in hindsight, the lack of sex between her and Gary hadn't  helped their situation. It wasn't as if he had been initiating things  and she was turning him down. They often came home tired. She was always  busy with her interior design business and closing on the old  Victorian, and he worked for one of the top architectural firms in South  Texas. But she'd failed to see the signs. They had been going through  the motions.

Still, it didn't mean he had a right to cheat. He'd met his fiancée at  the convention and told her it had been love at first sight, and that he  couldn't pretend any more with Mari.

Pretend.

She took another deep breath. The hurt still stabbed at her chest.

I'm over him.

I'm lucky he's out of my life.

Her brain believed her. Her heart, not so much.

Focus on dinner.

After digging around in her many boxes, she found the small red bowls  that matched the plates she wanted to use. It was late January in Corpus  Christi, which meant eating outside would be chilly, but fine with a  fire. She took some wood from the cord she'd bought, then dashed through  the house and stacked it in the fire pit out back.

Then she set the old wooden harvest table she'd stored there on the deck.

She opened the garage door to let out the smell from the meat that was  cooking, and standing there was the dreamy Marine with a confused  expression on his face.

Not expecting him to be standing there, she jumped and maybe screamed...a little.

"Sorry," he said. "I didn't mean to frighten you. Uh, why are you cooking in your garage?"

"Long story." Now she'd have to recount her very ugly history with this  darn house. If he didn't already think her lame, he would soon.

Oh, well.

It's not like you wanted to make him yours.

Liar.

"Follow me and I'll explain everything."





2

BRODY FOLLOWED HIS neighbor through her house, which looked like a war  zone, and after several tours in the desert, he'd been in a few. It  wasn't junky, but most of the walls had been taken down to the studs.  And the wood floor had large holes in it.

"Watch your step," she warned as she led him out to the backyard.  "There were plumbing issues and they had to rip up some of the boards to  find the pipes under the house. One of the five million things that  have gone wrong since I bought this place."

The despair in her voice was clear. Why was someone like her living in  this mess? He'd seen her in heels and brightly colored dresses when she  came home at night. Even in her shorts and jersey she was immaculate. It  didn't make any sense.

"I knew we, I mean I, was in for a lot of work, but I really  underestimated the project. If I'd done this with one of my clients, I'd  have been fired."

They stepped out onto a wooden deck. There was a table set with  smart-looking ceramic bowls positioned near a fire pit. Strings of  twinkling lights wrapped around the wood posts and portico. This was  more of what he expected from Mari's house. It was casual but in an  elegant sort of way.

"Clients?" he asked as he sat the chips and salsa on the table.

"I'm an interior designer. I have my own firm, but I work with  architectural and construction companies around Corpus Christi and South  Texas to design spaces from the ground up."

He didn't know anything about design, but he'd helped out at his  uncle's construction company every summer in North Carolina. His family  had moved a lot over the years, but the summers at his uncle's were  something Brody looked forward to when school was out. Even though it  was hard going, he'd enjoyed being a part of building homes, or at other  times doing smaller remodeling jobs. From the look of her house, she  had a hard road ahead of her.

"I can guess what you're thinking." She laughed. "I'm insane. You aren't wrong."

He laughed, too.

She glanced at the table. "I forgot the taco shells and sangria. Or would you rather have beer?"

"I'm good with water." Alcohol made the headaches worse and the  headaches led to nightmares of his men screaming, waking him up in the  early morning hours. The other night he'd left the ceiling fan on and  he'd freaked out for a few seconds, imagining the blades from the Viper  helicopter coming at him. Once he'd realized what was going on, he sent  his fist through the bedroom wall.                       
       
           



       

Another patch job to add to his list of things to fix around the rental.

Most of the older homes in the neighborhood were stately and needed a  lot of upkeep. His rental wasn't as big as Mari's, but it was just as  old. Most of her Victorian had been remodeled, he noticed.

She frowned. "Oh, are you an, um- Sorry."

"No, I don't have a drinking problem. I can drink. But I want to lay  off for a while. Been getting headaches and alcohol only seems to fuel  them." Why was he telling her that? It would lead to more questions.

"Got it. Were you injured? Uh, I don't want to pry." Yep. More questions.

"Yes." He couldn't tell her. Couldn't talk to anyone about it. "My last  tour we hit a bad patch." That was putting it mildly. But Brody refused  to think about that flight.

She smiled and then touched his arm. It was a kind gesture. "Oh. Sorry I brought it up. Okay. Be right back."