The Two and the Proud(3)

“Seriously, why NCIS?”

“Counterterrorism, investigation, keeping the Navy and the Marines safe here and abroad—it worked for me.” She licked her lips. “I like being a Marine. I liked serving, but I wanted to do more, too. The funny thing was, the agent afloat was this real player. He was forever taking women out when we were in port and he knew even more…but he never hit on us.”

“’Cause you’d probably have hit him back.” Rowdy’s astute summation pegged it.

“Probably.” She shrugged. “Still, he gave me an opportunity. A couple of years later when I cycled out, I gave him a call. He hooked me up and I got a job.”

“That’s awesome. No seriously.” He raised a hand as if she’d protested the compliment. “Been thinking about what I want to do—got the letter a few weeks ago offering me an out. Don’t want to go back to the family business. Didn’t think about law enforcement.”

“I work cold cases, mostly, but everyone deserves to have answers. What does your family do?”

The waitress swung through and she didn’t bother with the flirt or come hither looks this time, replacing their beers with fresh ones. Rowdy waited till she left and turned sideways, their knees brushed and another finger of tension tightened inside of Kim.

A deliciously provocative tension.

“Military contractors. The family is Navy through and through. I’m the black sheep. I went Marines. Didn’t want to hoist the yardarm as it were.” His self-deprecation disguised the conflict his choice must have caused for his family. “Don’t get me wrong—they’re proud—but I’m not a nine-to-five paper pusher who enjoys blocking out the day with back-to-back meetings, inspections, and compliance reports.”

She promised herself she wouldn’t make a face, but couldn’t help sticking her tongue out in a grimace. “Bleh.”

“Exactly.”

The third beer would be her last. The warm and fuzzy radiating out from her belly didn’t need any alcohol to fuel it.

“I can appreciate that. I work for a living, and it’s not going to change.” She enjoyed his swift wit. “So why did you join?”

“For the Marines? Or….” He lifted his eyebrows teasingly.

“Both.”

“Well there’s a long reason and a short one—”

She arched her eyebrows at his dramatic pause, and laughed. “Please tell me you didn’t.”

“Hey, you like my shoes—that’s the long reason.” He added salt to the tease with a wink, and she shook her head, laughter vibrating through her. “The short reason is I wanted to. I know a guy who knows a guy—as it were—and he said it was worth the experience.”

“Yeah?” Curiosity aroused, she leaned toward him. They were close enough and the heat of him seemed to warm the air between them.

“Yup. There’s this unit—have you heard of Mike’s Place?” He brushed a hand across the back of hers, a light touch—exploring.

She liked it.

“Rehabilitation facility in Dallas.” She’d heard of it. She’d even written a check the month before to the fund the men and women in her former unit who were planning to donate. They were fortunate, they hadn’t lost any on their team…but not everyone was lucky.

“Exactly. Friend of a friend is there, and he said a number of the Marines who got the operation started used this service. Some were pretty damn successful.” He stroked the back of her hand, light casual touches. Each brush of his skin on hers created another tickle of sensation to skate through her.

He spoke with a beautiful cadence, every word measured and enunciated clearly. She’d thought his eyes were brown, but they were a distinct hazel—a sparkle of green against the earthier shade. When he tipped his head back to laugh, they darkened, but when he stared at her intently—like he did now—they seemed to gather the ambient light. Like glitter embedded in paving stones.

Slow down before you gush that he glitters in sunlight. She shook her head a little trying to shake the mooning, girly swoon out of her. Realistically, Rowdy was a good-looking man with even features, a slightly crooked nose and a strong jaw. His lips were firm and his eyes captivating. He was no cover model, but everything, from his manner to his speech, pulled at her and the desire curling through her belly had nothing to do with sunshine or sparkles.

“You okay?” Concern edged out his amusement.

“I’m fine. I’m just imagining you naked and it’s very distracting.” Once upon a time, her commanding officer warned her about being too candid. But Rowdy didn’t seem to mind.