No Reservations (Special Ops: Tribute Book 1) (5 page)

“I smelled bacon.”

“You did.” Her chin tossed in the direction of a plate of
bacon on the counter. “Help yourself. I made plenty.”

“I need to warn you. I have a tendency to fall for women
over bacon.”

“You and all men. I figured bacon is usually a crowd
pleaser. It might be a little overdone. I don’t quite have this down pat yet.”

Reaching for a piece, Maddox watched her read a recipe that
looked like it was printed off the internet. “What’s that?” he mumbled, his
mouth full.

“Well, it’s supposed to be a crab stuffed omelet. But I
think I lack the technique. My first two attempts to fold the omelet over made
it look like scrambled eggs.”

“Oh, omelets are easy,” Maddox said, shoveling the last of
his slice into his mouth and reaching for the rubber spatula. “You just need to
loosen up the sides a bit.”

Truth be known, he’d made a few omelets for women before—a
page ripped from his playbook. Make a girl an omelet the morning after, and
post-breakfast sex was a pretty sure thing. So with that kind of enticement,
Maddox had developed quite a skill over the years.

He moved closer to her and the warmth from her body made his
skin sizzle like the eggs in the pan, reminding him just how long it had been
since he’d gotten laid. Between leaving the Navy, packing up for his move, and
laying the groundwork to open a new business, his sex life had somehow fallen
by the wayside.

Maybe it was time to fix that.

He glanced at her, and the sight of her lips so close to his
made him hungry for something more than bacon, and that was damn stiff
competition.

And speaking of stiff…

Giving himself a slight shake, he checked himself
internally.
The omelet.
Yeah, that’s why he was standing so close to
her. He eased the sides of the omelet off with the rubber spatula. “There. Now
you just need to fold it over gently. Do you mind?” he asked, resting his hand
over hers as she held the handle of the pan.

Her spine stiffened, reminding him that this was not some
girl he was hoping for a hook-up with. She was an innkeeper—an innkeeper
who was graciously letting him stay here even though she hadn’t planned on
having guests. And even if he did see attraction flash in her eyes when she
looked at him, he knew little to nothing about her. She could have a boyfriend
for all he knew.

Somehow, the idea of that rankled him.

With his hand still over hers, he forced himself to take a
half step backward. “Now just give it a gentle flick of the wrist. Like this.”
He moved the spatula, so that one third of the omelet lifted from the pan and
folded onto the middle. “And now do the same on the other side.” With another
flick of the wrist, a perfectly shaped omelet was formed.

“Wow. Nice.”

 “If you fold it in thirds like that rather than in
half, it’s foolproof. I’m pretty good at this,” he boasted.

“You are.” A grin perked up the right side of her mouth. “But
apparently not good enough to notice that I hadn’t put the crab filling in yet.”

That’s what I get for showing off
, he thought. Scowling, his eyes tracked
toward the bowl of crab mixture along side the stove. “Um, yeah. Didn’t I tell
you that I prefer my crab-stuffed omelets without the crab?”

“How convenient. I happen to have one here that’s perfect
for you,” she said with a snicker, sliding it onto a plate and handing it to
him. “So, what time did you go for a run?”

“About 6.”

She groaned. “I hope all my guests don’t get up so early.
I’ll never make them breakfast in time.”

“That’s late for me. Comes from being in the Navy so many
years, I guess. I get more done in the morning than some people get done by
noon.”

“Where’d you run?”

“Oh, just over the Navy Bridge and in and out of a few
neighborhoods that border the Severn. I found a rental I think Becca will like,
too. I didn’t see the inside, but I’ll call the number on the sign and see if I
can get a tour. Looks like a basement apartment. It’s small, but maybe big
enough for two. But the catch is, it’s got a backyard. She’d love that and I really
didn’t think I’d find that in a rental.”

Bridget pressed her lips together tightly. There was an
awkward silence between the two of them, and Maddox couldn’t fathom why.

“That’s great,” she finally said.

“So, why did you decide to take over this place? You could
have sold it. I’ll bet in this part of town, real estate is pretty hot.”

“That’s what my parents were hoping I’d do with it. But I
just love the idea of running this inn. From the first moment I walked in here,
it’s like I could just feel the history of this old place. And I’ve always
loved Annapolis. I thought it would be so refreshing to show off this town for
a living.”

“Your aunt must have cared a lot for you to leave you this
place.”

“Actually, she always kind of kept her distance from me. I
never even met her until I started going to college here.”

“Really?”

“I think there’s some bad blood between my parents and her
or something. But when I went to college here, I reached out to her a bit. Really
ticked my parents off. I’d come to her inn for coffee a lot and then when I was
dating a guy pretty seriously my senior year, she had us over for dinner
several times. That’s kind of how I fell in love with this place. Just seeing
all the guests come and go. People are so happy when they’re on vacation. Total
opposite mood from when they’re talking to a lawyer.”

He chuckled as she scooped some crab mixture into another omelet.

“But then she never even came to my graduation, and never
saw me again after. She’d send Christmas cards and I’d call her sometimes, see
if she was up for coffee. I was only in DC for law school. I would have loved
the excuse to come to Annapolis. She was always busy.” Bridget shrugged. “I was
pretty surprised that she left the inn to me. But she never married or had
kids. So she didn’t have a lot of people she could have left it to, I guess.”

“How’d she die?”

“Car wreck. There was a pretty bad storm this past winter
and it iced up the roads. Head-on collision.”

“Jesus. I’m so sorry.” He wanted to stand to reach for her,
but she turned her back, folding over another omelet just the way he’d taught
her.

“Yeah. It still hits me sometimes. It’s weird. I know we
weren’t close. But there was—I don’t know—something between us. Maybe
it’s just that we shared the crazy gene that makes a person want to run a B
& B in a town already bursting with B & Bs.” She raised her eyebrows at
him. “My parents hate the idea of me quitting a reliable career to do this.”

“It’s a tough economy to be opening a business,” he admitted.

“But you’re doing it,” she pointed out.

“Yeah. Feels kind of like I’m in the middle of an identity
crisis, though. Going from SEAL to the ice cream man.” He shook his head.

She slid the newest omelet onto a plate and the crab oozed
out temptingly, making Maddox wish he had run a couple more miles this morning.

“So, did I pass Omelet 101, Professor?”

“With flying colors. Looks perfect.”

“Looks can be deceiving. Eat up, if you dare.” Nudging aside
his other plate, she set it in front of him.

“Don’t you want this one?”

“No.” She settled her hand on her stomach. “Truth be known,
I ate about a quarter pound of that crab before it even made it into the mixing
bowl. I have a weakness for Maryland Blue Crab.”

Another thing we have in common
, Maddox noted. Seeing as he’d already
eaten half of the other omelet and four pieces of bacon, he should really fight
her on this. But the crab was seeping out of the omelet, beckoning him. And
besides, she really needed an opinion.

Well, so long as it was for her. He sliced a chunk off with
his fork. When the crab touched his palette, his eyes slammed shut. Mouth still
full, he couldn’t help mumbling, “This is a definite winner.”

She blew out a breath of relief, sitting beside him.

“So, do you mind giving me a little tour of Annapolis?” he
inquired after swallowing. “It’ll help me pick out a good spot for our place.”

“Sure. You said you were thinking of getting a place on Main
Street, right?”

“Mostly likely. Why? Do you have other suggestions?”

She tilted her head thoughtfully, and a few tendrils of hair
fell out of her ponytail making Maddox’s fingers itch to put the elusive locks back
in place.

“There
are
already three other ice cream shops on
Main Street,” she informed him.

“Three?” He frowned. “Well, our ice cream will be better.”

“Better doesn’t always cut it in this town. You have to be
different. You have to stand out in the crowd.” She smiled coyly. “Though I
imagine there are those that will come to your place just to see a former SEAL
scooping ice cream. And uh… now that I’ve seen you without a shirt…” She didn’t
finish the sentence, only laughed.

“So you think we should consider a shirtless uniform? Sort
of Chippendales style?”

“Absolutely,” she said teasingly. “There are women who would
pay an extra dollar a scoop for that sight.”

“And imagine the tips,” he joked. “So, if you don’t mind me
asking, what’s going to make your B & B stand out? There are a lot more B
& Bs than there are ice cream shops.”

“You’re right. But I’ve got that covered.” Her smile was
mysterious.

“Okaaay.” He stretched out the word, angling his head
curiously. “Are you planning on sharing?”

She bit her lip, her excitement palpable. “It’s kind of
something you have to see to get the full effect. I’ll show you when you’re
done with your omelet.”

Grinning, he scooped an entire half of the omelet into his
mouth.

Her eyes widened with surprise—and a hint of revulsion.
“Don’t choke on it.”

After a couple chews, he swallowed. “One thing SEALs are
experts at—eating fast because the opportunity is fleeting. So, where’s
your big secret?”

She untied her apron—the simple action of it nearly
undoing Maddox—and crooked a finger to him. “Follow me.”

He’d gladly follow her anywhere when she said it like that.

She opened the door to what appeared to be the basement, and
glanced over her shoulder at him before descending the stairs. “My
pièce de résistance
.”

She said it with flair, and Maddox was enthralled by the
sound of French words on this woman’s tongue.

Walking down the stairs behind her, satisfaction spread over
his face at the sight as it revealed itself to him.

“A man cave,” he declared, his voice gravelly as he reverently
stroked the mahogany of a new pool table with its balls racked and ready for a
game. His gaze roved around the room—from the huge TV on the wall with a
gaming system underneath it, to the foosball table, and then over to the
electronic dartboard. The walls were painted in hues of green with one feature
wall covered in what looked to be reclaimed wood. A leather sectional was in
front of the TV, and an impressive model sailboat sat on a console table behind
it. The room had a decidedly different feel than the rest of the house, a stark
contrast to the more feminine décor upstairs.

“Exactly. A man cave,” she said brightly. “I had this idea
back in college when I visited here. I figured it’s usually women, not men, who
want to stay in bed-and-breakfasts, right? So why not give the men something to
entice them to want to stay here? And frankly, I think women will love it just as
much.”

Maddox had to agree. Any living creature that took in oxygen
couldn’t resist a divine sanctuary like this room.

“Look over there,” she urged him, nodding in the direction
of the opposite side of the room.

“Oh my God,” he uttered, his eyes first resting on a pinball
machine, then crossing to a bright yellow stand-up arcade in the corner adorned
with Pac Man graphics. Drifting toward it, he reached for the joystick. “Is
this the real thing?”

“Kind of. It’s one of those new arcades that are loaded up
with all the 1980s classic games on there. I think there are about fifty of
them.”

His eyes widened. “Does it have Galaga?”

She chuckled. “It does. But aren’t you a little young to
know about Galaga?”

“Hell no. My uncle had an old Galaga in his basement. I used
to play it all the time till it finally died and he couldn’t find anyone who
knew how to fix it.” He gave her a solemn look. “I was devastated.”

“Well, you can shoot alien insects to your heart’s content
here. Just press the play button. I’ve got it rigged so that no quarters are
necessary.”

He shook his head, somewhat in awe—of both the man
cave, and the woman who had the vision to put such a place in a bed-and-breakfast.
“You know that every 40-or-50-something guy is going to want to stay here just
for this. Including my uncle.”