Heart of a Marine (The Wounded Warrior Series Book 1) (3 page)

“Costs too much.”

“I offered to pay, don’t forget.”

“I can’t show my face around there for a while. The golf pro’s wife nearly shot us when she caught him feeling me up in the cart shed.”

Marla dropped her head on the back of the couch. “Have you ever given serious thought to dating single guys? What’s with you and married men?”

“Hey! I date single men. I don’t know what you’re talking about. Why don’t
you
go on a real date? That’s why I talked you into the singles thing tomorrow night.”

“If by ‘real date’ you mean jumping in the sack with a man I barely know…”

“It’d make you smile for a change. Date somebody other than Edwin Plimpton. I don’t understand what you see in him. You probably need a magnifying glass to find his willie. How about that Dwayne guy? I bet he’d love to show you what a real man can do. I’d jump at the chance.”

Marla shook her head and sighed. The sad fact was Edwin had shown no interest in sex since they’d started going out three months ago. Their relationship, such as it was, was purely platonic.

“Forget I said anything. Go all Mexican, the more guacamole, the better. Have it catered. I’m not doing any of the cooking this year. I’ll take Sil shoe shopping at Cesare’s China Doll. That’ll keep her out of your hair while you and the boys get everything setup. I’m sure she can squeeze a couple more pair into her closet.”

Charlene’s snort came through loud and clear. “Yeah, for sure, Mom’s down to fifty or sixty pair by now, poor dear.”

“What are you complaining about? She and you wear the same size. You haven’t had to buy a pair of shoes for the past five years.”

“Oh. Yes. There is that.”

“Anything else? Skipper is giving me dirty looks. I promised him a treat.” She rubbed the dog’s round belly while he rolled on the couch in ecstasy.

“You and that fat pooch. Give Edwin the heave ho. Get a man!”

“Bye, Char. Call me again when you want to share your wisdom.” She clicked off and smiled at Skipper. “I don’t need another man as long as I have you, my sweetie-weetie. C’mon let’s find that peanut butter treat. Then I have to call Dadley to give him a heads-up about his traditional, annual surprise party.”

Yes, she loved her dog, and she was pretty sure she could love Edwin, but as she reached in the cupboard for the box of dog cookies, she wondered what it would feel like to have Dwayne Dempsey wrap his big arms around her. To have his…
don’t go there, Marla.
Still, what would it be like to know that when he called her
beautiful
or
gorgeous,
he really meant it?

CHAPTER TWO

Marla’s stomach flopped and perspiration formed at the base of her throat. The closer they got to the restaurant for the singles gathering, the more she was sure she did not want to walk through that door. How had she let Char talk her into taking part in this misadventure?

“Char. I don’t feel well. I think I’d better head on home.”

Charlene grabbed her arm and yanked her toward the entrance. “Oh, no you don’t. You promised you’d come. Lordy, you are the biggest coward. What’s the worst thing that could happen?”

“For one thing, I look ridiculous in this dress.”

“No you don’t. You look gorgeous. I don’t know why you always wear those dull, unflattering pantsuits.”

“They’re very practical for business. I’m in and out of the car all day.” Her eyes darted to the entrance. “I don’t think there’s an upside to this fiasco.”

“They’re just single men. They’re not monsters. At least they shouldn’t be, because the organizer checks everyone for a past criminal record.”

“Oh, for the love of goats! You’re making it sound better every minute.” Marla pulled her arm from Char’s hand and stopped. “Wait. Wait for just a minute. How is this going to work again?” She knew she couldn’t stall much longer. The door of Villa Sorrento beckoned with its twinkling lights and delicious aromas.

“I told you already. They draw names based on compatible characteristics from the personality profile. Nobody knows until they start the pairings who they’re going to have dinner with.”

“How many people are going to be here?”

“You never listen to me. I told you that too.” Char threw her arms in the air and pretended to pull out her hair.

“Tell me again.”

“Twelve. Six women and six men.” She took Marla’s cold, sweaty hand. “It’s just dinner, sis. Look at it this way—you’ll have dinner with a man who’s probably more nervous than you are. There won’t be any awkward moments about the check because it’s already taken care of with the registration fee.”

Still resisting the pull of her sister’s hand, Marla worked to push back rising panic. “How long do I have to stay?”

“Take a breath and relax. I can’t believe you’re working yourself into a meltdown over this.”

“How long?”

Charlene gripped Marla’s shoulders and glared. “The organizers told me they wrap up the evening at eight-thirty.” Char squeezed her shoulders tighter. “That’s only two hours. Not a freaking lifetime.”

Two hours? How was she going to maintain intelligent conversation with a total stranger for two hours? This would be the evening from hell.

Charlene opened the door and nudged her into the foyer. Their mellow lighting and dark wood paneling usually comforted Marla, but not tonight. She moved as if she had a date with the gas chamber.

“Smile,” Charlene said through gritted teeth, then let loose a dazzling smile of her own.

Marla took a slow breath and pasted on a small, closed-lips smile. She imagined herself looking like the Mona Lisa. Enigmatic. Mysterious. Amused. Or just plain defeated.

Charlene pulled her toward the podium. She gave their names to the tuxedoed host, received their tickets, and was directed to an informal seating area in the lounge.

Marla took the flimsy stick-on badge and smacked it to her lapel. As they stepped away, a man approached the host, and Charlene’s eyes widened with appreciation while Marla only smirked at her sister’s reaction. She left her sister’s side and walked directly to the darkest corner. Slumping down, she turned her shoulders away from the entrance.

Charlene walked over to her. “Lordy, lord, Marla. You look like you’re hiding from the cops.” Charlene fluffed her hair, glanced around the room, and sighed. “It’ll all be over in two hours. Can you please, please relax and smile. Look.” She pointed across the restaurant. “Harry and Barry just got here. They can’t sit with us though. They’re so cute.”

Marla tossed a handful of nuts in her mouth. She watched their brothers from the corner of her eye, noticing that the twins hadn’t dressed alike for a change. “Why can’t they sit with us while we’re waiting?”

“I don’t want anyone to know we’re related to them.”

“Why in the world not?”

“I don’t remember now, but I had a real good reason when I arranged for all of us to be here. Anyway, they’re seating the men in another section till dinner.”

Marla swallowed hard to prevent choking on the peanuts, smiled and gave the boys a finger wave. “I’ll never understand you, Char. Your mind works in ways I can only wonder about.”

Charlene signaled the waitress. “You’ll never admit it, but you’re lucky to have me for your sister. I’ll grab you a glass of pinot. Knock it back fast. Try and relax.”

“In case you forgot, I’m the designated driver.”

With a long-suffering sigh, Char looked at Marla as if she were a hopeless case. “The point is, in case you haven’t been paying attention as usual, you won’t be driving after dinner. The mystery date will be happy to take you home.”

“What! I’m not letting some bozo I’ve never met before find out where I live, and I’m not planning to go where the mystery man lives.” She dug in her jacket pocket for some clear lip gloss and applied it without the help of a mirror. “My mouth is so dry I feel like Judah Ben Hur on his death march across the desert.”

“All the more reason to have a glass of wine.” Char reached for two glasses of wine as the server lowered the tray before her. “Here, just sip it then. One glass won’t guarantee a major crash and grisly death on the highway.”

“It could.”

“Oh, lord. You won’t be leaving for over two hours, and you’ll have dinner. Look at it this way, maybe the man you meet will be more boring and colorless than Edwin, and you can swap him out for the new guy.”

There was no point in arguing with Charlene when she started ragging on her about Edwin. Marla’s opinion of him wasn’t far off from her sister’s. She brought the class to her lips, took a single sip, and set it down.

A tall, silver-haired man entered the lounge. “Ladies, may I have your attention? Those of you who’re participants in the SDO group please follow me to the dining room.”

“SDO?” Marla asked when Charlene stood. “Is that us?”

“Yes. Singles Dinner Only. I already told you that, but as I’ve pointed out several times already. You never listen to me.”

Marla stood, straightened her jacket, and huffed. “If only.”

Clearly annoyed, Charlene rounded on her. “Can’t you just for once in your life do something I say? I am the oldest you know.”

Marla snorted. “By ten minutes!”

“I may not be a Nobel Prize winner all wise and powerful
sister
, but ten minutes makes me older.”

“OK. Let’s call a truce. You’re older.” She picked up the suede shoulder bag matching her too-high stilettos and followed Char’s swaying hips to the dining room.

When they reached the entrance, the handsome older man said, “Our group will meet in the far end of the dining room to the left. We selected it for its quiet intimacy and conduciveness for private conversation.” He smiled warmly. “The gentlemen are seated and the tables clearly numbered. Plants and screens have been discreetly arranged around the room for added privacy. Check the number on your ticket,” he held one aloft, “and find your match for the evening.
Bon
Appétit, Mesdames
.”

Panic gripped Marla’s chest and throat. She took a deep breath. Two hours, she could do this. Then she’d refuse any of Char’s future matchmaker schemes.

She grabbed her sister’s arm. “Wait. Char. Where shall we meet? In the bar? I have the car keys.”

“Don’t you worry about me. I’ll find my way home in my own good time.” She flipped long silky blonde tresses over her shoulder and started across the room like a thoroughbred out of the starting gate.

Clutching at her throat, Marla dragged through the room. This felt like a date with the guillotine.
I can do this. I can do this.

Table six was located in the far corner of the dining alcove. A broad-shouldered man wearing a black leather jacket with an American flag patch on the right shoulder sat with his back to her. Close trimmed hair emphasized a strong neck.

Why does he look familiar?

The guy reached back to rub his neck. Two fingers were missing from his hand.

“Oh, for the love of…” she groaned. “Dwayne Dempsey.”

He turned. Those piercing blue-green eyes penetrated her gaze like shards of ice. “Well, well, well. Look who’s here.” He stood and held out the chair for her.

Marla slapped her ticket on the table and dropped into the chair with the grace of a hundred-sixty pound bag of cement. “I don’t believe this.”

“
You
don’t believe this? I didn’t know you were on the hunt, Red.”

In a thousand years she couldn’t have dreamed up a more absurd development for Charlene’s scheme. Leaning forward on her elbows, she nailed him with her own penetrating stare.

“Let me make this clear, Dempsey. I’m here under protest. I have no interest in a blind date with any man, least of all you.”

He cocked his head and grinned. “Wow. I didn’t know we had so much in common, beautiful.”

“We have nothing in common.” She tugged her short skirt and gulped a swallow of ice water. “So much for the so-called matching they did.”

“For your information, I’m here under protest too.” He unrolled the napkin around his silver, snapped it open, and dropped it in his lap. “I’d rather be almost anywhere else.”

That stopped her. Maybe they did have something in common, other than work on the condo project. “Oh.”

“Yeah. Oh.” He signaled the waiter. “Shall we order dinner and see if we can get through the next two hours? I don’t know about you, but I’m hungry. Might as well get Cluny’s money’s worth.”

“Cluny? The plumbing contractor?”

“Yeah, the guy over there with the blonde.” He tilted his head.

Marla turned. “Oh good grapes, he’s with my sister Charlene.”

“Lucky him.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means he’s a lucky guy. She’s beautiful, she’s hot, and look, she’s actually smiling at him like she’s happy to be here.”

“Unlike you getting stuck with me you mean.”

“I…” Dwayne shut his mouth when the waiter approached to ask what drinks they’d like to order. He deferred to Marla.

“I’ll have a glass of pinot grigio, please.”

“And for you, sir?”

“Diet Dr. Pepper.”

“Very good. I’ll just be a moment.”

Marla’s nose had wrinkled with distaste when he ordered the Dr. Pepper.

“I don’t drink alcohol, and I happen to like Dr. Pepper,” he said. “Is that OK with you, boss?”

“Yes, of course. I’m sorry I’m acting like such a witch. Charlene’s been driving me crazy with this singles thing, and it was a long stressful day at the project.”

“I was there all day. Remember, gorgeous?”

No time like the present to tell him how she felt. “I wish you wouldn’t do that.”

“Do what?”

She pressed her lips together and sniffed. “Call me beautiful and gorgeous when you mean the opposite. The teasing about my weight has gone on long enough.” She stared at her plate, hands fisted on the table.

He didn’t say anything for what seemed like hours. Finally he reached across the table and ran his index finger over her clenched fist. “I’m a jackass.”

“Yes.” She snatched her hand away. “So don’t do it anymore.”

Dwayne blew out a breath and chuckled. “That’ll be easier said than done.”