One Week with the Marine (Love on Location)

No, he felt something more like…fear. It was the promise of everything else that had his blood pounding, heart racing.

“So how does this work, now?” Her voice was a little softer than usual.

“I hadn’t thought it over. I was distracted, what with trying to avoid getting food poisoning from your pantry.”

“Ha freaking ha. Enough with the kitchen jokes, all right? We need to figure out how to, like, date each other. Or whatever.”

“Well, what do you usually do on dates?” He hated asking the question. Every word clung to his throat, his teeth, his tongue, until he was forced to rip them out.

It was fine that she dated.

That wasn’t it. He wanted her to be happy. But picturing it, knowing how other men treated her? Well, that made him want to shove the question back in his mouth and hope it never pawed its way out again.

“It kind of depends. You know, sometimes we go to dinner. Other times, I steal his gun and pretend I’m an international spy.”

“That’s a thing?”

“Well, no. Not really. Actually, I—” She swallowed hard and fixed him with that same expression he’d only glimpsed before. Vulnerability. “I don’t really date much. Or, um, at all.”

“What do y

ou mean? I’ve seen you go out with tons of guys—”

“Before our agreement. After that, I never really found someone I wanted to be with. That way.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I know. Shocking. Crazy Avery and all.”

“But what about Fred Fitzgerald?” he asked.

“Who?” She looked momentarily confused, and then she threw her head back and laughed. “Oh, that was a huge disaster. Myla set me up with him, and I may have…embellished a little. Or a lot.”

“Myla set you up?” Holden asked.

Avery nodded. “After I’d told her you were coming to town again. I think she thought… Well, I don’t know what she thought. Probably that if I found someone else I wouldn’t…” She stopped. “You know what, it doesn’t matter. What do you usually do with your women? Long walks on the beach? Shooting range?” She rushed on, probably hoping to distract him.

It didn’t work.

“What? What do you think she was hoping for?”

“It doesn’t matter.” She smoothed her hands over her skirt.

“Avery, please. Just tell me.”

She sucked her bottom lip into her mouth, then released it. Slowly, she stared down at her folded hands. “I think she thought if I had someone else to think about, I wouldn’t be so…upset. You know, when you left again. For your next tour or whatever.”

“Upset?”

Avery laughed, then shoved an errant strand of hair behind her ear. “I know, me? Upset? But Myla doesn’t understand, you know, how I handle things—”

“I think she understands better than you think she does. And I do, too.” He wanted to cup her chin and pull her lips to his, to kiss away every little piece of hurt she’d held on to over the years. But just as he considered it, he thought of her sitting here alone once he left again. He thought of what exactly he was asking her to sign on for.

Before he got the chance to think on it anymore, though, Avery was shifting in her seat, a smile returning to her full lips. “Anyway, enough about that. Come on, you must have had a move or something.”

“A move?” Holden raised his eyebrows.

“You know, that you use on the ladies.” Avery shrugged.

“I never had to seduce much. So…I don’t know. I was never looking for a girlfriend. I didn’t care enough to find one.” His whole body urged him to stop there, to lie and not freak her out, but the words kept coming, incontrollable. “Nobody was as funny or smart or…or completely gorgeous as you are. You’re a tough act to follow.”

Slowly, she nodded. Her eyes moved back and forth, as if trying to read him, and he didn’t know what else to tell her.