Rhonda+Nelson+-+The+Soldier (7 page)

his groin. “Better be sure you don’t forget your wallet. I’m planning on running up a bar tab.”

He frowned. “You don’t drink.”

She dimpled. “No…but everyone else in there usually does.”

Adam shook his head. “You are evil.”

She batted her lashes at him. “It’s part of my charm.” She turned and started to walk away. “And

remember to bring cash, not credit cards,” she called without looking back. “You’re going to

need it.”

What he needed was a brain transplant, Adam thought, unable to drag his gaze away from her

delectable ass, the hypnotizing swing of her hips. What the hell was he doing? When had he

enlisted for self-torture?

He snorted. Probably around the same time he realized he wanted her, Adam thought.

And being around her only made him want her more.

Easy to fix, but hard to follow through.

And, God help him, he was slowly losing the will to try.

“EIGHT BALL, RIGHT CORNERpocket,” Winnie said as she carefully lined up her cue. She

felt Adam’s gaze on her ass and a little thrill whipped through her.

“Are you sure you can make that?” he taunted.

Winnie turned and smiled at him over her shoulder, then deliberately took the shot without

looking. She heard the gratifying thump of the ball dropping into the pocket and her smile

widened. “I’m certain.”

Adam chewed the corner of his lip, but it didn’t hide his impressed smile. “You’ve been

practicing.”

Winnie straightened. “A little.”

Adam stowed his pool stick—the one he never got to use—and shot her a beleaguered glare.

“You cleared the table, Winnie. You beat me last time as well, but at least then, I got to play.”

Winnie took a chair at the nearest table and began to confidently peruse the menu. “I figured if I

was going to hang on to my one and only victory, I’d better brush up on my skills.”

Adam joined her, scraping the chair against the worn linoleum as he dragged it against the floor.

“And how long have you been brushing up?”

She jerked her head toward the wall where various photos of her local championships were

displayed. “A while.”

Adam’s eyes widened and he swore, then shot her an outraged look and laughed. “I’ve said it

before, but it bears repeating. You are evil.”

Winnie chuckled. “Not evil, Adam. Good. There’s a difference.”

He shrugged lazily, cocked his head and then took a swallow from his beer. “Like beds and sex,

the two aren’t mutually exclusive.”

A little breath stuttered out of her lungs and her imagination instantly created a vision of the two

of them having evil, wonderful sex in the car at McKinney Point.

Ridiculous to still be holding

on to that fantasy, but she couldn’t seem to help herself.

McKinney Point was the local make-out

spot. Adam had hauled so many girls up there in high school that Winnie had actually painted

him a parking sign and erected it herself. She’d agonized over those girls—the ones she’d

desperately wanted to replace—and the envy still had an unpleasant grip on her heart.

Still, the thought of that old sign and the hours she’d put into it made her smile.

Adam shot her a look. “Oh, no. What are you grinning about?” he asked suspiciously.

She laughed. “Just thinking about your comment.”

“About having sex somewhere besides a bed?”

Yes, she was thinking about having sex with him at McKinney Point, but she damned well

wasn’t about to share that. “No, just thinking about all the sex you’ve had in places other than a

bed.” With other people, while she grieved.

He blinked. “What?”

“McKinney Point?” she reminded him, arching a significant brow.

His gaze grew reflective and a slow smile slid over his lips.

“Damn, I haven’t been up there in

years.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’ve never been up there at all.”

Surprise flashed in his expression. “You never went at all? But you dated,” he said. “That band

guy. Whatshisname—Chuck.”

Winnie chewed the inside of her cheek. “I went to the prom with Chuck because he didn’t mind

that I was a jock and I didn’t care that he had enough metal in his mouth to fuel a nuclear plant,”

she said. Her lips twisted. “We didn’t actually date and we never made out at McKinney Point.”

She lifted her chin and sniffed. “You, however, were a regular up there, usually with a different

girl every time.”

His eyes twinkled with masculine pride. “I wasn’t as bad as all that,” he told her, though the

self-satisfied smile he was wearing indicated he knew otherwise.

“Yes you were,” she protested. “You were a regular man whore.

For crying out loud, you had

your own parking space reserved up there!”

“That was a joke. Damned Natalie.”

Winnie chuckled and ducked her chin. “That wasn’t Natalie, Sherlock. That was me.”

His eyes widened. “You?”

“Yes, me,” she said primly.

His gaze sparkled with admiration. “That was devious.”

“Hey,” she said, innocently. “I had plenty of time. I wasn’t hanging out at McKinney Point.”

“So you’ve never been?”

She shook her head, took a sip of her water. “Nope.”

“That’s a crying shame,” he said, staring at her. His eyes darkened and bit of a challenge hung

on to his smile.

It would be easy enough to rectify, if he was so inclined, Winnie thought. And from the way his

gaze was lingering on her lips, he was thinking the exact same thing.

A thrill whipped through her. She might have been stumbling around in a one-sided attraction

for more than a decade, but she’d made up ground pretty damned quickly.

He wanted her.

She could tell.

For all the effort Adam had put into avoiding her for the past several months, he suddenly didn’t

seem to be able to stay away. She didn’t know what—if anything

—had changed, but she was

damned thankful for the new status quo.

Frankly, though he’d promised to help her with her team, she’d imagined that anything outside

of the ball diamond was going to be a struggle. But then he’d barged into her shop last night,

adorably outraged on her behalf, and then shown up again at the pool this morning, glaring

ominously at Mark Holbrook. If he hadn’t wanted to see her, he could have chosen a different

time.

He hadn’t.

He’d come when he knew she’d be there…with Mark.

Though she could hardly wrap her mind around it, Adam—as mind-boggling as it seemed—was

jealous of Mark Holbrook.

Because of her.

Adam drew back and determinedly snagged a menu, a bit of a forced smile on his lips. Ah, she

thought, noting the abrupt switch in his body language. He was still fighting it. Still determined

to stay the course.

But she was just as determined to make sure he careened right off of it. She was too close, closer

than she’d ever been, to let this chance pass her by.

Winnie knew Adam would leave. His career was first. She got that. But, pathetic as this might

be, she didn’t mind playing second if it meant she could just kiss him, hold him to her for a little

while.

It would be enough. It had to be.

“So I owe you a meal,” he said, overly cheerful, as though he could change what he’d shown

her. “What are you going to have?”

You, at some point,Winnie thought. What she wanted wasn’t on the menu. She was staring at it.

Every perfectly sculpted, magnificent inch of it. Her gaze traced the lean slope of his cheek, the

smooth curve of his jaw and rested on his wickedly carnal mouth.

She’d dreamed of that mouth and all the things he could do with it. To her.

And she was going to see that dream to fruition before he left if it was the last damned thing she

did.

6

SHE’D NEVER BEEN TOMcKinney Point, Adam thought for what felt like the hundredth time

since the night before. Honestly, he didn’t know why Winnie’s admission had stuck in his mind,

but the fantasies her words had sparked in his own imagination—

foggy windows, heavy

breathing, naked skin—were nothing short of X-rated.

Even as early as this morning, when once again he’d forsaken common sense and met her at the

pool—why the hell couldn’t he stay away?—he’d been thinking about sitting in the car with the

seats back, her thighs bracketing his, a little rock and roll playing from the radio.

And her.

Adam pushed through the screen door and made a beeline for the fridge. Honestly, he didn’t

know how much longer he could keep this up. Especially since Winnie was upping her game.

Casual touches, a lingering look and, though she’d probably had the little habit for years, he’d

suddenly become preoccupied with how often she sank her teeth into her bottom lip. It was

distracting as hell. The sly slide of her gaze when she looked up at him from beneath those long

lashes. He didn’t know how much of it was actually deliberate on her part or how much his lustridden

mind was twisting even the most innocent gesture.

But there had been nothing innocent about the kiss she’d pressed to his cheek last night when

they’d left Clementine’s. She’d gone up on her toes, grasped his forearm and had come

dangerously close to actually kissing his mouth. Probably because he’d started to turn his head,

but stopped himself just short.

Though Adam would like to think that he was simply that strong, that his determination to do

the right thing was that formidable…he knew better.

There was an underlying fear—almost panic—that had prevented him from giving into the

moment, one he couldn’t explain and most certainly didn’t understand. So he’d forced the

unpleasant notion away and told himself again that the only reason he couldn’t be with Winnie

was because he was leaving. Because she deserved a permanent guy. Because he wanted his old

life back.

All of which were true. But even he was beginning to recognize that he was protesting a little

too much. Jeez Lord, what a friggin’ mess. Why couldn’t he simply stay away from her? Why

did he keep putting himself purposely in her path? Why, after all these years, had she suddenly

become so damned important to him?

“Colonel Marks called while you were at the pool this morning,”

his father said, interrupting his

internal diatribe.

Adam drew up short and every sense went on point. Colonel Marks was the officer in charge of

his next assignment. He’d ultimately be the one to determine whether or not Adam resumed his

post or took a new one.

Adam stilled. “He did?”

“There’s been a change of plans. Your review has been moved up to Friday.”

Shock eddied through him. “This Friday?” A week sooner than the original appointment. Why

the change? Or better still, what had changed? Adam didn’t know what to make of it. Why

would his hearing, for lack of a better term, have been moved?

His father merely nodded.

“Did he say why?” Adam asked, but it was a pointless question. If the General had known why,

then he would have told him.

“No. He asked if you were ready and I said yes. I was certain that was the answer you would

have wanted me to give him…and that’s the answer I believe, as well.”

Adam looked up, surprised and grateful for his father’s affirmation. The General had been very

careful to keep his opinions and emotions to himself since Adam had returned home. He had

been encouraging, of course. Solicitous, even. But he hadn’t given any indication whatsoever as

to what path Adam should now tread. Frankly, though he was curious about his father’s opinion,

Adam was glad that his dad had kept it to himself.

Unlike his mother…who had been very vocal. “Stay here. Medic out. Start over.”

She was doomed to disappointment. That wasn’t his dream and never would be. Adam was a

soldier. Nothing was ever going to change that. Not even Winnie, though admittedly for the first

time in his life, he was tempted.

“Have you told Mom yet?”

The General winced. “No.”

Adam stared down at the trendy new tile his parents had installed to replace the dated pale green

linoleum. “She realizes that she’s not going to change my mind, right?”

“She does,” his father admitted. “But that’s not going to keep her from trying. Cut her some

slack, son. This has been very hard for her. She doesn’t understand. She’s not—”

“I know, Dad.” Adam passed a hand over his face. “I understand her concern, but I can’t change

who I am to make her feel better. Not in this.” He couldn’t change for anybody. He might have

lost part of his leg, but he was still the same man he’d been before the accident.

Liar, a little voice niggled, but he determinedly pushed it away.

He was the same. He still had the same dreams, dammit.

His father adjusted a magnet on the refrigerator. “She doesn’t expect you to, really. She’s just

worried.”

Adam looked up at his father. “And you’re not?”

“No more than I ever was. You have always known your own mind, Adam. You know what

you’re doing. I’ll admit I was a little concerned in the beginning, but this past week you’ve

shown the determination that’s always been a big part of your character.” His father stared at

him, his face calm and passive, as always, but curiously intense, as well. “I don’t know what

Winnie said to you, but whatever it was, you should thank her.”

He should have known his father would connect those dots. The General rarely missed anything.

And he was right. If Winnie hadn’t barged into his bedroom and provoked him into getting out of