Where You Least Expect (8 page)

She was on a roll now, and after she tossed a piece of steak in her mouth and chewed, she pointed her fork at him.

“Are you a virgin too?” she asked, pinning him with a skeptical glare.

He almost spit out the water he’d been about to swallow and then sputtered, “No!” around a series of coughs.

“Are you sure?”

“Be serious, Verna,” he said after regaining his breath.

“I’m just saying,” she said and then took another bite. A moment later, she continued. “If you go around doling out butterfly kisses because ‘it seemed like the right thing to do,’ and then actually telling the lucky recipient the truth about your reason, that is just so fucked-up. I’m not your target audience for high-level seduction, I’m sure, but wow, that was terrible. I was gonna ask you to teach me some game, but never mind.”

The serious, slightly disgusted look on her face as she finished made it impossible not to laugh again, and she eventually joined him. They chuckled companionably for a few moments, and Joe realized he hadn’t felt this relaxed and at ease since he’d started considering the career shift.

“What is it?” she asked, sobering slightly.

“Nothing. I was just thinking this is nice.”

“That it is,” she said in agreement.

“But seriously, Verna, I didn’t mean to offend you, and I’m sorry about the kiss.”

“Dude, you gotta learn when to stop digging. First it felt like the right thing and now you’re sorry. Just what a girl, or in my case, almost senior citizen, wants to hear after her first kiss.”

She smiled slightly, but he could see that she still felt a bit uneasy. Of course, whatever else he might say would probably make it worse, so he took her advice and stopped digging.

“So why aren’t you married?” she finally asked. “I know women practically swoon in you presence, even without the uniform, so how’d you manage to stay free?”

“It wasn’t too hard,” he said with a shrug. “I was never in one place for too long, and I never wanted to keep someone enough to take her with me when I moved on.”

“Do you want to settle down at some point?” she asked.

“I don’t know. Sure.”

“Am I detecting a note of uncertainty? How very unlike you,” she said.

He shrugged again.

“Let me take a stab at it,” she said, waiting for his approval.

After he nodded, she began. “So, from what I gathered, you were some kind of supersoldier, SEAL, Spec Ops, or some shit like that. Right?” She raised a brow.

“What makes you think that?” he asked, genuinely curious as to her answer.

“With the base being so close, we get our fair share of military traffic at the cafeteria, and it’s just something I picked up on. I can’t say what the difference is exactly, but those guys just have a different vibe. Officers have their own vibe; rank and file have another. And you put me in the mind of those hard-ass dudes the first time I saw you. Am I on point so far?”

“I could tell you—”

“But you’d have to kill me,” she finished. “God, you’re so lame.”

She smiled, big and bright, and Joe knew he’d never seen her look happier.

“So anyway, you do this supersecret, dangerous shit, and then at some point, you realize that for whatever reason, injury, sadness, or maybe you’d just had your fill, you can’t do it anymore. You retire and then wake up day after day feeling useless and purposeless and then you start to panic, wonder if you made a mistake. You kinda know you didn’t, but you’re cursing yourself because what the fuck are you gonna do now? And then you think maybe you’ll settle down and be a soccer dad, coach Joe Junior’s football team and take Josephine to cheer practice. Sounds like it could be okay sometimes, but other times that life seems like hell on earth, so you’re confused, with no clue what to do.”

She was right, presciently so, but rather than confirm her assertion, Joe gave her a round of applause.

“Impressive. What’s the encore?” he said, trying to laugh it off.

Her eyes squinted in a look of pained sympathy, she said, “I’m sorry, Joe. I wasn’t trying to make light of anything, and I hope it didn’t come off that way.”

It hadn’t, and he didn’t want her to feel bad, but it was odd, hearing someone so succinctly lay out his current dilemma. He looked away and then looked back at her, flashing a quick smile.

“No, it’s not you. It’s just…I’ve been—I had been in the military for more than half my life, been a SEAL for half of that. I don’t know anything else. What am I good for in this world?”

His voice wavered the tiniest bit on that final word, but Verna either didn’t notice, which was unlikely, or she let it pass without comment, for which he was grateful.

“You leave the self-doubt to me, Joe. It’s all mine! And besides—and trust me, it pains me to admit this out loud—you’re super-fucking competent. You should, like, start a school that teaches people how to be competent badasses. I’ll be your first client. Or”—she appeared to think hard—“I know, you should be a personal trainer.” She eyed him and then shook her head. “Nope, on second thought, you can’t do that. People would be too busy drooling over you to work out. The only option is a school for badasses.”

She smiled again.

“And I get ten percent for coming up with the idea. Deal? Deal!” she said.

They laughed for a moment and then shifted to more neutral topics, Verna chatting about how much she liked to sew, Joe explaining how night vision worked.

“Verna,” he said, standing next to her in the foyer after she’d asked about the fiftieth question, “you’re freaking me out. Why the interest in night vision?”

“Don’t be nervous, Joe. I only watch you while you’re sleeping. Promise,” she said, her voice deadly serious.

The air in the room stilled, and he found himself unsure of how to react. And then he shook his head at the slow smile that spread across her face, chiding himself for having once again been taken in by one of her jokes.

“You’re so fuckin’ gullible. It’s great,” she said, her voice and expression amused.

“Believe it or not, you’re the only person who has that effect,” he said.

“Aww, you think I’m special.”

“I do,” he said.

He’d intended the words as a teasing put down, but the husky-voiced whisper that he’d used to utter them gave them an entirely different meaning, one that felt more right than he wanted to acknowledge at this moment. Her eyes widened and went dark, and he was taken aback at the surprise—and pleasure—that lit her gaze. This was a different side of Verna, one he’d never seen before. He’d seen her happy, seen her in the depths of despair, but seeing her like this, free, at least for the moment, of expectation and insecurity, seemingly just enjoying being here with him, was something he found he liked. And something he wanted more of.

Without stopping to consider the consequences, he reached out and cupped her face in his palm and then stroked his thumb across her lips. The shock and terror that flashed through her eyes almost made him pull his hand back, but in an instant, those emotions were replaced with a deep longing that felt almost tangible. He tightened his hold on her face and leaned in slowly. When he’d kissed her the first time, it had been an impulsive action, one that she hadn’t had an opportunity to object to and one that he hadn’t meant seriously.

But he was serious now, caught up in some drive that he didn’t understand and had no interest in trying to figure out. At this moment, all that mattered was feeling her lips under his, kissing her until she forgot everything but the need to kiss him back. But he wouldn’t rush this, and he wouldn’t rush her. If she showed the slightest hesitation, he’d let her go. He prayed she wouldn’t, the unexpected desire gripping him making him almost frantic.

And it appeared his prayers had been answered. She didn’t pull away; if anything, she tilted her head to give him better access, moving her lips up to him in offering, one that he took. The first press of his lips against hers was simultaneously a homecoming and entirely new experience. This was Verna, his irritating next-door neighbor, but it was also Verna, a smart, funny and, something he hadn’t really noticed until just recently, desirable woman.

He grazed his lips across hers, the touch a mere whisper, but even that faint contact sent a shiver through his body that settled in his cock, that low tug of arousal heightening by the moment. He pressed harder, seeking more of the satiny-soft feel of her lush lips beneath his. When he pressed even harder, she opened her lips on a sigh, and he swooped his tongue into the warm cavern of her mouth, releasing a sigh of his own at the first taste of her. Her lips slackened, and he heard and felt her sharp intake of breath, her body going stiff. But he didn’t stop, instead teasing her with his lips and tongue, and after a heartbeat she responded, tentative at first, but then growing bolder, stroking her tongue against his and then exploring his mouth as he’d explored hers. Then she grew even bolder, running her hands up his biceps to his shoulders, locking her fingers at the base of his neck.

Then she pulled back abruptly as if she’d been struck by lightning. He looked at her, feeling a rush of masculine satisfaction at the sharp desire that was clear in her gaze and at the sight of her puffy, kiss-swollen lips.

She smiled wistfully and turned.

“That was amazing. Please don’t do it again,” she said.

Then she walked out of the door.

Chapter Seven

Verna cast another worried glance at the sky, and the heavy gray clouds that she saw sent a spike of apprehension through her chest. It had been gloomy yesterday and all through the morning, and the weatherman had forecasted a storm and then a cold snap that would sweep through later in the evening, bringing with it sleet and snow. Snow was fairly common up in the more mountainous areas but was still rare enough to inspire that uniquely Southern fear and excitement in Thornehill Springs. It had been the talk of the town, with the news almost entirely devoted to the impending storm.

When she’d woken this morning, Verna had been intent on staying in; her little car had no four-wheel drive and it wouldn’t have made a difference because she had not the faintest clue how to drive on snow or ice. But as the day had progressed, the forecast had worsened, and the reporters had speculated the storm could mean several days of snow and thus limited mobility. She had provisions, though she’d thought it probably wouldn’t have hurt to grab a few extra things. But she’d had a more pressing concern. She’d still needed fabric for Blakely’s pants, and it had seemed prudent to take advantage of the time and make sure everything was perfect if she was going to be at home for a while. Mind made up, she’d dashed out, hoping to make the quick twenty-five-minute trip and be back home before it started to rain.

The plan had been a misguided, calamitous disaster.

She’d gotten to the fabric store and been pretty efficient in selecting her choices, but the trip home had been a nightmare. In the forty-five minutes between leaving her house and leaving the fabric store, traffic had more than quadrupled, and what had been a barren parking lot when she’d arrived had been stuffed to capacity by the time she left. Reasonable, given the big supermarket that anchored the shopping center—one look at it and the seemingly endless number of people teeming to get inside had squelched any ideas about a quick stop for groceries—but it had taken another half hour just to get out of the parking lot. And then, when she’d finally, finally, gotten on the highway, it had been packed and people had been driving like the asphalt was an ice rink, though a single drop of rain had yet to fall. After crawling along for another hour and becoming increasingly concerned at the way the clouds seemed to swell before her eyes, she’d made the decision to get off the highway and take the state road home. She’d known doing so would lengthen the trip, but she’d been going nowhere fast on the interstate and the urge to move had made it impossible for her to stay on that path.

The state road had been much clearer, and she’d made up a lot of time, but now, the clouds appeared about to burst, and she was still a good ten miles from home. A surge of panic hit her, though she tried to suppress it. These roads were not as well maintained as the highway and could get messy, even in a simple rainstorm, so all bets were off when it came to heavy rain or sleet and snow. Gripping the steering wheel a bit tighter, she breathed deep and grasped for calm. There was no reason to be concerned yet. If she just kept moving, she’d be home in no time.

Clink. Clink.

It couldn’t be. She heaved a sigh and looked up. It was. Tiny pellets of what sounded like sleet fell from the overly ripe clouds, one or two at first, followed by three, four, and then more than she could count, all dropping at an increasingly rapid pace. It seemed that modern meteorology had failed yet again. The weatherman had forecasted rain and then sleet, but Mother Nature had found it fit to dispense with the rain and get straight to the main event.

She gripped the wheel a little tighter and pressed the gas a little harder, but was wary of going too fast. Between the traffic on the interstate and the main roads and what would soon be deteriorating road conditions, it was unlikely that anyone would be able to reach her if she did something stupid like flip the car, so she needed to be cautious. She turned on her windshield wipers as the sleet began to fall faster, and in what felt like the blink of an eye, the entire hood of the car was covered, as was much of the road in front of her. She eased off the gas, but didn’t slam on the brakes as instinct told her to. Somewhere, she couldn’t remember where though, she’d heard advice that slamming on the brakes in ice would cause a vehicle to spin out, so the best bet was to keep a slow but constant pace. Of course, she could be entirely wrong about what to do, could have been misremembering the advice, but she couldn’t think of a different approach.