No Reservations (Special Ops: Tribute Book 1) (8 page)

“What’s the problem?”

“She’s not going for me,” he answered.

“What?”

“She’s not going for me at all. We’ve spent the past couple
days together. She’s great. Fun. Funny. And she’s really been a huge help, Bec.
Walking me all over town trying to find a space to lease. She’s nice, and
smart, too. She was a lawyer before she became an innkeeper. Bold as hell
breaking out on her own like she did. I mean, you gotta admire that, right?”
Flicking on his turn signal, he pictured the inn she called home. “And
creative. Honest to God, this inn is so cool. She’s completely reinvented it.
She’s got a great head for business and—”

“What’s she look like?”

Maddox stopped abruptly. “Oh. Well, she’s cute. Seriously
hot, actually.”

There was a brief silence on the other end. “My God, Maddox.
You just listed about ten great things about her before telling me that she’s
pretty.”

“So?”

“So, you
really
like her.”

“Well, yeah. That’s why I’m calling.”

“To invite me to the wedding?” There was a laugh in her
voice. “You know, I know you SEALs work fast, but—”

“Shut up, Bec. You know that’s not why I’m calling.”

“So why are you calling? You pulled me away from sugar
cookies to tell me you
like
a girl?”

“No. I pulled you away from sugar cookies to find out why
she doesn’t like me.”

“You’re sure she’s single?”

“Positive.”

“Straight?”

He paused, hesitant for a moment, till he remembered the
ravenous look she gave him when he’d been shirtless. Maybe he needed to be
shirtless around her more often. “Pretty sure. And I do all the usual
stuff—you know—picking up the bill when we go out, opening doors
for her. I even wiped ice cream off her lips with my napkin. And every time I
touch her, she just—”

“Recoils in disgust?” Becca offered, humor in her tone.

“Yeah, actually. Not in disgust. But definitely recoils.”

Becca laughed.

“Bec, I’m being serious. Most the time women are throwing
themselves at me at this point.”

“Yeah, and see how they worked out? Maybe you need a woman who
isn’t so damn easy.”

“So you don’t think I should give up on her?”

“Maddox, you’ve known her for—what?—two days
now? Give it time.”

“How long?”

“I don’t know. There’s no exact amount.”

“I’m a guy. I need numbers.”

“Okay, okay. I guess… four, maybe five days. If you’re not
seeing some interest from her by five days, you’re probably lost.” She paused. “So,
what else have you done with your time out there?”

“Plenty. I’ve got some good options for us. I’m meeting with
the leasing agents tomorrow and I’ll take pictures of the interiors for you
guys.”

“That’s not what I’m asking you, Maddox.”

“Okay, so what are you asking me?” He hated the way women
spoke cryptically sometimes. “I’m a guy, so use small words and talk slowly.”

“Have you visited him yet?”

Her question surprised him. He knew she’d ask one
day—maybe even nag him about it a few months down the road. But he didn’t
think she’d mention it so quickly.

He sat up a bit straighter, bristling, unconsciously on the
defense.

“No. I just got here, Becca. And it’s kind of low on my
priority list right now.”

“Well, move it up a bit. You need to do this, Maddox. I know
you—and you need to do it. You need some closure.”

“Oh, hell there’s no such thing as closure. You of
all
people know that.” He didn’t regret the words, but did regret the snap in his
tone when he said them. “I’m sorry. That was way out of line.”

“I know. And you’re right, maybe.” Her tone was sad, empty
in a way that he’d often heard from Becca. “Maybe I just want for you what I’ve
never gotten for myself,” she finished.

Maddox frowned. He’d never even told his own mother about
the demons that plagued him these past years. Why had he slipped and told
Becca?

Because she knows those same demons on a
first-name basis.

“I’ll get around to it,” he finally said.

Lowering herself into the soft leather chair, Bridget dropped
her face to her hands, then raked her fingers through her scalp.

“Arrgh…” The moan she emitted was sheer agony.

Leia touched Bridget’s back sympathetically as she handed
her a cup of coffee, and glanced at her other customers. “Don’t worry,” she
told them. “That was a moan of unrequited lust. She didn’t eat a bad scone.”

They laughed in response, and Bridget glared at her friend
when Leia sat across from her.

“What?” Leia asked innocently. “I had to tell them
something. You look like you’re about to die in my coffee house.”

“I feel like I might,” Bridget confessed. “Do you have any
idea what kind of hell I’m living in right now?”

Leia cocked her head. “Hon, you’ve got a gorgeous hunk of
man-flesh doing your plumbing for free. You’ve got a strange idea of what hell
is.”

“But he’s so—” Her face contorted, pained.

“Blazing hot? Yes, I’ll agree with you there. You could get burned
just standing next to him.”

Bridget’s lashes lowered as she sipped her much-needed coffee,
her mind skipping back to the image of Maddox—Maddox, shirtless after a
run… Maddox, in one of those tight t-shirts he always seemed to wear when he came
down for breakfast… Maddox in the crisp polo he wore when he was meeting with
some leasing agents today. And always Maddox with that wide, brilliant grin
that made her panties melt.

She frowned. “For the record, Leia, I can handle hot. I live
in a town filled with men in uniform, for God’s sake.”

“Then what’s so hellacious that you’re crying in your
latte?”

“I’m not crying. I’m moping,” Bridget corrected. “It’s just
that he’s so nice, Leia. I mean, I really just enjoy spending time with him. And
it’s depressing the hell out of me.”

“Why?”

“Because he’s
taken
.”

“So you said in your texts yesterday, and the day before, about
twenty times, I might add. So were you repeating yourself to remind
me
or
yourself
?”

“Myself. Definitely myself. I’m not about to go sniffing
around someone else’s man.”

“Of course you aren’t. But are you really sure he’s taken? I
mean, why isn’t she here with him?”

“She’s in Sedona. She’s moving out here to be with him. He even
found an apartment for them.”

Leia frowned. “Okay, so opening a business together and
shacking up are definite indicators that he’s well-and-truly taken.”

Bridget raised an eyebrow. “So glad you agree with me.” She
stretched out her legs in front of her. “Besides, it’s for the best. The last
thing I need is to have a guy like Maddox Kerry in my life.”

“Yeah. That would be pretty terrible to find a man who looks
like
that
, who fixes plumbing and even knows how to make homemade ice
cream. That’s got Greek tragedy written all over it.”

“It
does
. You’re kidding, I know. But it does. You
know my luck with men like that. I’m still licking my wounds from watching the
love of my life get down on one knee and propose to someone else.”

Leia’s eyes rolled lavishly. “First, he wasn’t the love of
your life or you’d be with him right now. That’s the way destiny rolls, hon. Second,
it’s been long enough.
Get over it
.”

“I am over it.” She saw the skepticism in her friend’s eyes.
“Or I’m headed in that direction. But I’ve also learned. Mr. Right can really
trample your heart. I think it might be smarter to find someone who’s Mr. Good
Enough.”

“Try, Mr. Mediocrity. I met that last guy you went out with.”

“Hey, Glen was a nice guy.”

“Nice like a good dose of Valium. The guy put me to sleep.
Look,” she rested her hand on her friend’s shoulder, “I’ve been there. I know
what it’s like to not want to get hurt again. But you don’t see me looking for
a man who’s only halfway decent just so I won’t get my heart broken. I’m
holding out for perfect. And you should, too.”

“Well, right now, perfect is living a few rooms away from me,
and it’s got me sleepless, anxious, and horny as hell. Which tells me at this
point in my life, I’m better off with him as a friend in the long run.”

“Then I guess you should thank this Becca woman for taking the
likes of Maddox Kerry off your hands.”

Taking another sip of her coffee, she nodded resolutely. “I
should. I definitely should.” She glanced at her watch. She really needed to
get back to the inn.

“So if they break up, can I go after him?” Leia asked.

Bridget laughed, moving toward the door. “He’s all yours.”

“Yeah, right.”

Turning out of Leia’s door, Bridget took a right, opting to
take the long way home. The bells at the church on the circle tolled five
o-clock, and she loved this time of day in Annapolis, when the sun was low in
the sky and made the intricate architecture of the old buildings seem to glow.

She picked up a quarter pound of fudge on Main Street—she’d
share it with Maddox at home, of course—and ripped off a chunk of it
before grabbing a seat on a bench alongside the life-size bronze statue of Alex
Haley telling a story to a handful of children. The memorial was so discreet
that passersby regularly walked by it without even noticing that it was there.

A gaggle of ducks approached her, looking for a handout.

“Sorry, guys. Don’t think fudge would be good for you,” she
said, popping another chunk into her mouth. Feeling guilty for not having
something to share with them, she pulled her eyes away, focusing on the boats in
the waterway. It wasn’t too crowded right now, but this was the calm before the
storm. Later this week, this part of downtown would be teeming with people with
their eyes turned skyward to watch the Blue Angels for their flight
demonstration to celebrate the graduating mids.

She hadn’t planned on watching it this year. She’d seen it when
she was in school here, and Leia would be working that day. But she couldn’t
help wondering if Maddox might like to see the show with her.

Funny how she craved being near him, even though she knew
that nothing could come from it. Funny… and dangerous. She hadn’t enjoyed a
man’s company this much since Tyler.

Popping the last chunk of fudge into her mouth—so much
for her intentions of sharing it with Maddox—she wadded up the paper bag
and dropped it into the recycle can a half block away.

The front door was open when she arrived home, and Maddox
was drilling a hole in her doorway.

“Did the knob break again?” she asked.

“No. Knob’s fine. But I’m putting in that deadbolt I
mentioned.”

“Oh, you really didn’t have to do that.”

“For security’s sake, I did. I bought another one and was
hoping you’d let me put it on your bedroom door. I mean, not all people who
walk through your door will have a TS clearance.” He stood, brushing a bit of
sawdust from his hands onto his shorts.

“I have a lock on my door.”

“Yeah, and if you debate me on this, I’ll show you just how
easy it is to break it.”

She opened her mouth to argue, but he held his finger to her
lips. The touch nearly undid her.

“Please, I’ve spent half my afternoon wedged beneath your
pipes. The least you can do is humor me on this one tiny point.”

“You did the faucets?” Her eyes flashed with hope, and she
glanced at her watch to confirm the time. She had no idea how he managed to
finish so quickly.

“Well, one faucet you’d already done. All it needed was a
little plumber’s putty. The others went in easily enough.” He tossed his head
toward the inside of the house. “And I put up those bookshelves.”

Slack-jawed, she just stared at him. “You got all that done?
Do you ever stop to breathe?”

 “No, I guess I don’t.” He chuckled. “Oh, hey—your,
uh, mom called while you were out.”

“Oh?” She hoped he didn’t hear the tension in her voice.

“I didn’t pick up, of course. She left a message.”

There was something in his eyes—a hint of
caution—and she broke her gaze free of him to walk inside. She made a
mental note to switch to voice mail. She liked being able to screen her calls
with a separate machine. But when she had guests here, she certainly didn’t
need them hearing messages that came in, especially from her cagey family.

Staring at the machine, her finger wavered slightly above
the blinking button. She knew. Somehow, she knew what the message would say.

And then she pressed it.

“Hi, honey. I got your message. I don’t think that key is
Lydia’s. Just throw it out. It’s probably ancient. Hope everything is going
well out there.” There was a marked pause before her mother added, “We’ll talk
later. Dad sends his love.”

Bridget could feel the frown on her face deepening. It
didn’t surprise her in the least that her mother would lie to her about
something having to do with Lydia. Yet it was somehow embarrassing to have
Maddox witness it.

About a minute passed before she could even look at him. And
when her eyes finally met his, she despised the sympathy she saw on his face.

“My parents… I think their moral compass is a bit off-kilter.
They’d prefer to lie about something just to avoid having a real discussion
about it.”

“Family can be a pain in the ass sometimes.”

“Is yours?” she asked, almost hoping that he’d answer in the
affirmative. Misery loves company, and all that.

“They’re—a handful, I guess is the way I’d describe
them.” He reached out to touch her arm, and she couldn’t resist letting him
this time. She needed the feel of comfort right now. He gave a gentle squeeze before
letting his hand drop back to his side.

Oh, how she wanted to fall into a warm, reassuring embrace
right now. To just feel a man’s arms around hers. She felt like calling Becca
herself and just asking for five minutes with her boyfriend. Just five minutes
of feeling like she wasn’t so damn alone. “Are they supportive of your ice
cream shop?”

“Oh, yeah. They think it’s a great idea.”

She tried to mask the envy she felt at hearing his words. But
she knew she failed.

“Now go—tell me what you think of your faucets,” he reminded
her.

A hint of enthusiasm overtook her again, and she darted away
up the stairs. She went into the bathroom and turned on the faucet. Opening the
door to the vanity cupboard, she watched and waited.

But no drip.
None
.

Her arms quivered, just wanting to hug someone.

The man was a Godsend. A burly, sweet, and plumbing-capable
Godsend.

By the time she was trying out the final faucet, he’d joined
her. “They look great. Is that the biggest change you made in the bathrooms?”

“Oh, no. I had to remove two layers of wallpaper.”

“Ugh, two? Who wallpapers over wallpaper?”

“My aunt, apparently.”

“Well, it looks good now.” He leaned on the doorway
casually. “Maybe it’s time for you to flip that sign in the window to the
OPEN
side.”

Her gut wrenched at the idea. “It’s just not—”

“—perfect,” he finished for her, and it surprised her
to see how much he’d already figured out about her. “Look, no one stays the
night in an historic inn and expects perfection.”

“I know. Deep down, I know. But I just don’t want—”

“Bad reviews.” Again, he stunned her with his insight. “Look,
starlet, you’re going to have to face opening night one of these days. And
wouldn’t you rather do it while I’m still under the same roof so I can cold
cock anyone who dares to give you a bad review?”

She looked at him slightly horrified.

“Jeez, I’m kidding, Bridget.”

“Oh, yeah. Of course. But you can’t say things when you’re
walking around with guns like that and not give people a moment’s pause,” she
joked, poking one of his biceps. She liked being friends with him. She could
say things to him that she might not have otherwise.

Her smile dimmed and her eyes drifted again to the new
faucet. She hadn’t
needed
new faucets, just like she hadn’t
needed
the two bookcases flanking the fireplace. She was just tacking on more and more
things to her to-do list, to delay her possible failure.

She wasn’t fooling anybody, including herself.

She glanced at the image of him in the bathroom mirror,
staring at her, waiting for her to say something.

Finally, he beat her to it. “Afraid of failure?” He reached
for her, and tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear.

The simple gesture was so endearing she was tempted to move
toward him, and relish in the security of feeling his strong, self-assured body
pressed against her own. This was dangerous, opening herself up to him like
this.

“Aren’t you? I mean, let’s face it, the stats are pretty bad
for both of us. Most businesses don’t survive the first year. Chances are, we’ll
both fail. Doesn’t it keep you up at night?”