Her Sexy Marine Valentine(4)

He wished she'd just tell him what it was that she wanted to talk  about. Her proposal. And he really hoped it wasn't to do with sex,  although that's pretty much all he'd thought about for the last hour. He  didn't think he'd be able to tell her no, but it was the wrong choice  for him right now.

"That's a lot to carry, I'll help."

"No problem. I got it. If you don't mind, maybe you could get the fire  going?" She handed him a lighter from her pocket. "The temperature's  good, but as the sun goes down it will get pretty cool out here."

"Sure." He should have suggested that they eat at his house, but he was  worried about offending her. More than ever he was curious about  whatever proposal she had. Strange that she'd invite him for a meal when  she didn't have a proper kitchen. Not that he was one to judge. There  were many times he'd used a hot plate, either in the barracks or at a  temporary camp.

She emerged from the house with a pitcher of sangria in one hand and in  the other hand she held a plate full of taco shells. She'd also tucked a  bottle of water under one arm.

He grabbed the pitcher and the water and put them on the table.

"I had to heat the shells up in the microwave. Usually I'd do that in  the oven, but I probably won't have one for another three weeks, and  that's if the cabinetmaker finishes on time. His wife is having twins,  so it's probably a little sad that I say nightly prayers she doesn't  have those babies before he's done with my job. I'm a horrible person."

He laughed. "You're not horrible. You made me tacos." He meant it. The meat smelled great and he couldn't wait to dig in.

She handed him a plate with four tacos on it. "My apologies again.  Didn't mean to unload on you. It's been a day. You were there for part  of it, but before that came the plumbing news."

She took the top off a large tray that had several small bowls. "I  wasn't sure what you liked, so there is cheese, tomatoes, jalapeños and  some caramelized onions. Oh, and I made guacamole. I left it in the  fridge. I'll get it."

He loaded up his tacos and waited for her to return.

"This smells delicious. It's been a long time since someone made me an  actual meal." Mostly he ate at a couple of local restaurants or the chow  hall on base. The last six months he'd had to remind himself to eat.  Food wasn't that important to him. The second he let his guard down, the  guilt overtook him.

The muscles in his gut tightened.

No. He had to force the visions from his head. His men were gone. They'd never share another meal.

And this wasn't the time.

Focus. He had a beautiful woman sitting in front of him and she was  sweet. He could try not being a hard-ass for an hour. And he was still  more than a little curious about her proposition.

"Cooking is one of the things I do to relax," she said. "I miss it. I  haven't had a kitchen for two months, well, one that had more than a hot  plate in it. But enough about that. How did you end up here? What do  you do?"

"I'm a helicopter pilot. I fly Vipers and Venoms, and when necessary,  Stallions. I'm teaching Boots studying navigation at the base."                       
       
           



       

"Boots?"

"New Marines." His CO's order that he develop better camaraderie with  the new squad flashed through his head. Brody didn't understand why he  had to make friends. His job was to teach these guys how to best do  their jobs so they didn't die. Maybe if he'd prepared his other squad  more, they would have survived.

His gut tightened again, the wave of sadness culminating in the pain  and tension behind his right eye. Why did it always seem that when you  cared about people they ended up dead?

"Brody? Is something wrong with the taco?"

Blinking, he refocused. After taking a bite, the spices a perfect blend with the meat and toppings, he shook his head.

He pointed the taco at her. "You didn't lie. It's really good."

"Told you." She paused. "You don't sound like a Texan, in fact you don't have much of an accent at all."

"My dad is an entrepreneur and we moved a lot. Sometimes two or three times a year. More after my mom died."

"Wow." Mari frowned. "That must have been hard on you as a kid. And I'm so sorry about your mom."

"It was and I do miss her. But it was a long time ago," Brody said. He  still smiled when he thought of her. His mom had been the one to make  all the moving seem like an adventure. "And to be honest, it taught me  to travel light."

"Still, adjusting to new schools and stuff. And always making friends. I can't even imagine how difficult that must have been."

It was part of the reason he was such a loner. It was just easier that  way. "So, Mari, can I ask why you decided to take on this house? Seems  like a lot for one person."

She grimaced and put her food back on her plate. He'd upset her, but he didn't know how.

"True. It's a lot. But I didn't have a choice really. This started out  as a project my ex and I had agreed on together. I bought the house and  he would pay for the renovations, which were actually more than the  house was worth. By the time we'd be finished though, the house would be  worth four times as much. The plan was to flip it and move on to the  next place. Except...the day after I closed on the house he broke up  with me."

"Low blow," Brody said through gritted teeth.

"Not going to argue with you. And I can think of some nastier things to  say. Anyway, I was stuck. I can't sell the house as is, I won't get  back the money I put into it. So my only option is to fix it up as best I  can and sell. But without his money, I'm having to do it all on a  shoestring."

Her ex deserved a load of bad karma for doing this to Mari. Brody  hadn't known her long, but she was sweet, and didn't deserve to be  treated like that.

Thinking of the situation at the grocery store only made him angrier.  After all the jerk put her through, then he rubbed her nose in the fact  he was marrying another woman.

"Do you need me to kill him?"

She smiled. "You know, earlier today when I found out how much it was  going to take to bring the plumbing up to code, I might have taken you  up on that. No, my proposition, well, it's a little out there."

"Just ask. Honestly, my curiosity is starting to get the better of me."

She sipped, more like chugged, the sangria. Then she set down her glass.

"I watched you fixing the roof on your house a couple of weeks ago. And  then you repaired the mailbox and put in a new post. I promise I'm not  stalking you, but I've also seen you tinkering with your motorcycle. A  lot. And your truck. I just wondered if maybe you might be able to help  me out around here. Maybe there's something I could do for you in  return. Wait. That came out really wrong. I meant cook or something."  She laughed nervously.

It took him a minute to figure out what she was proposing. "You'd like me to do handyman stuff?"

"Yes. Over the years I've learned a lot. I've even helped out on jobs. I  have to bring in tradesmen for the electrical and plumbing, and those  guys aren't cheap. So most of the other work is going to fall to me.  This time, as I explained, I can't afford to hire the guys I normally  would."                       
       
           



       

He pressed his lips together. It wasn't a matter of him not being able  to do the work. He could. But hanging around Mari all the time probably  wasn't a good idea.

She was the sexiest woman he'd met in, well...forever. And he didn't  need complications like that. And he sure as hell didn't want to care  about her or her rickety house.

He glanced up to see her chewing on her lip again.

"It was a dumb idea. Forget I asked. Really."

"No. It's that I'm pretty busy at the base. Lots of new recruits and..."

Liar. He could do the job in his sleep. And he was out of there every  weekday at five because he didn't like being reminded of the past, which  left him hours at home with nothing to do.

"Of course. Like I said, forget I asked. I don't know why I even  thought it-I probably sound totally desperate. Can we just drop it?  Please?" She cleared her throat and averted her eyes.

Shoot. He'd disappointed her. Her ex had left her in a bad spot, and  Brody wasn't the kind of guy who could say no if someone genuinely  needed his help. He'd done his best when he'd visited the families of  his team members to make sure they got the benefits they were due and  lend a hand any way he could. It didn't get rid of his survivor's guilt,  but it made him feel useful. Mari was a kind woman who didn't deserve  what life had thrown at her; he hated to see injustice of any kind, no  matter what form it took.