A Christmas Together (2 page)

Faced with a visage of startling symmetry, she could see how some women might consider Captain Karl Reed handsome in a rough and dangerous sort of way. But once someone landed on her naughty list, not even the most drool-inducing mug could return him to her good graces. As an analyst for the Agency, she didn’t hold Department of Defense Captain America types in particularly high esteem. When one had the gall to snore through a classified briefing she’d labored over for, well, at least a couple of hours, he earned a permanent spot on her bad side.

Nudging her glasses up the bridge of her nose, she glared into eyes so dark they appeared black under the clouded sunlight. She scanned the near-empty outdoor seating area of the popular cafe chain before reverting her gaze to the man in front of her. “Aren’t there plenty of other chairs?”

The corners of his lips lifted, his grin a heart-stopping flash of white teeth. “I like this one.”

Years of conflict-avoidance prompted her to remove her bare feet from the vacant seat. He pulled it back, folded onto the narrow chair, and stretched his legs out toward her. Noticing the not so subtle invasion of personal space, she shifted to the left to minimize contact with his long limbs. Of all the people she could run into on a lazy Saturday morning, why did it have to be him?

He slid his booted feet sideways so they once more hit the side of her calf before placing two steaming paper cups on the table. “It was buy-one-get-one-free, so I snagged you a cup.”

Straightening, she placed her book on the table. If he thought one hot beverage he hadn’t paid for and a panty-melting smile would buy her forgiveness, he should brace himself for disappointment. “I don’t work weekends, Captain Reed. If you have questions about my presentation, please set up an appointment through the proper channels.”

He lifted a single eyebrow. She’d always envied people who could pull off that facial expression. Whenever she attempted it, her entire forehead wrinkled and, no matter how hard she concentrated, both her brows quirked up. “No offense, but I’d pay you to never say the words terrorism financing and international law in the same sentence again. And drop the ‘Captain.’ I’m off-duty, and you’re a civilian.”

“Then why are you talking to me?”

He scratched the back of his head. “Isn’t it obvious?”

“No.” Try as she might, she couldn’t come up with a single reason why this exchange should take place.

“Erh…Well…Why don’t you drink your coffee before it gets cold?”

Distracted, she looked down at the cup. “What kind is it?”

“The regular kind.”

She looked askance at the dark brown liquid. “As in drip?”

He nodded.

“I’ve never had one of these here.” She sniffed the murky brown brew. “It’s not on the menu.”

He pointed at the sign behind them. “This place’s name has
coffee
in it.”

She wrinkled her nose at the stale odor rising with the steam. “And they serve lattes, cappuccinos, macchiatos, and,” she pointed at the empty plastic container on the table, “Frappuccinos.”

“I never understood the point of drinks that cost more than meals. Who’s dumb enough to buy them?”

She blinked. “Idiots like me, apparently.”

At least he had the decency to look sheepish. When she allowed the silence to stretch, he took a sip of his beverage—one long enough to make her suspect a delaying tactic. “Why don’t you give this regular cup of joe a try? You might like it.”

She placed her fingers on the upper rim of the piping hot container. “They have cardboard holders and lids for these, you know.”

He dismissed her suggestion with flick of his hand. “What’s the point in more waste if you’re not taking it to go?”

Holding her breath, she tasted the bitter liquid before plunking the cup down. “It’s disgusting.”

His eyes widened. He seemed to be thoroughly enjoying his own drink. “Will cream or sugar help?”

“Nothing can salvage
that
…” Although this would be the ideal place to end their conversation, what little manners she’d been indoctrinated with forced her to add, “But thank you for thinking of me.”

She waited for him to leave, but he just sat there and stared. Her cheeks burned. A nebulous warmth filled her stomach. Squirming, she tried to get a handle on her elevated heart rate. Recognizing physical manifestations of attraction, she shifted discovering the purpose for his visit to the top of her priorities list. “Are you here for a reason?”

Crossing his arms, he leaned back. “I kinda hoped you’d figure this out already. I’m hitting on you.”

“Very funny.”

“You think I’m joking?” His forehead wrinkled. “Who jokes about something like this?”

“Some sort of dare, then?”

He scoffed, “No dare would make me trek out to the ‘burbs on one of my few days off.”

She drummed her fingers on the table. “Northern Virginia is hardly a suburb. What’s your angle, Captain…err…Mr. Reed?”

“My name is Karl.” He closed his hand over hers. His palm was callused, his fingers rough against her softer skin. All of a sudden, her throat seemed so parched that swallowing required conscious thought. She wasn’t the type of woman who received overt sexual advances. An IQ high enough to keep her several years ahead of her age group in school, relatively plain looks, and social awkwardness combined to make an effective man-repellant.

“Captain—”

“Karl.”

“Fine, Karl it is. You’re
seriously
hitting on me?”

He nodded, crinkles bracketing his eyes. “Seriously. By the way, Brennan is a mouthful, so I’m calling you Bree.”

Startled by his declaration, she forgot to protest being nicknamed after a type of cheese. “Like, in a romantic way…”

“Is there a platonic way of hitting on someone?”

“I guess not.” This new development, combined with his inexplicable presence, warranted further investigation. “When did you decide to hit on me? Before or after you showed up?”

Once again, he lifted a single eyebrow. “Are you accusing me of stalking?”

She could spot a prevarication from a mile away. “Are you denying it?”

“Why bother?” He shrugged. “I looked up your address. This place being on the bottom floor of your apartment building saved me the awkwardness of banging on your door.”

“At 8:00 a.m.,” she added

“Good thing you’re a morning person.”

“Do I want to know where you looked up my address?” Since she had a high enough security clearance to guess what Special Forces unit he belonged to, his ability to locate her didn’t come as a surprise.

He lifted one hand, palm facing forward. “I’ll have to plead the Fifth.”

She probed at the flaw in his entire assertion. “If you’re
that
attracted to me, shouldn’t you have asked me out when we met?”

“I was too sleepy to think straight.”

She had to give him props for honesty.

“By the time the gears in my brain started churning, you’d marched of in a huff and didn’t hear me running down the hall shouting your name.”

His accusing glare prickled enough for her to liberate her hand from his grasp, but she couldn’t help but feel flattered by the image. No one had ever run after her for any reason. “You could have called…What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

He grabbed her purse and rifled through it. A second later, he held up her smartphone. “Aha! I knew it wasn’t charged. How could I be so sure, you might ask?”

She feigned a cough. “I’m guessing you
did
call?”

“A couple dozen times. Why buy an overpriced fancy-schmancy gadget and not turn it on?”

At the time of purchase, she’d had every intention of using the damn thing to its fullest potential. But forgetfulness had a way of turning battery-reliant electronic devices into paperweights. Since she preferred to dwell on personal faults as little as possible, she changed the subject. “If you found me so interesting, why did you sleep through my briefing?”

“I didn’t get a good look at you until you woke me up, and your PowerPoint slides had itty bitty little bullet points with numbers in them. I came off a seventeen hour flight, so sue me.” Pausing, he squinted at her. “Wait, no, you’re a lawyer—stop and rewind. How about I buy you a drink to make up for my bad behavior? Actually,” he pointed at the two empty coffee cups, “I already did.”

“I thought you said the second cup was free?”

“Okay, then let me grab you an actual drink. One with alcohol in it.”

She made a show of glancing at her wristwatch. “It’s eight-fifteen in the morning.”

“Spoilsport. How about I buy you one of those fancy latte things that cost an arm and a leg. Which one do you want?”

Since sexy in-shape good-looking confident men didn’t grow on trees, she was tempted.

He lifted her purse and dangled it in the air. “Don’t make me take this hostage.”

Talk about impatient. She leaned into the backrest. “I’d love a grande half-caff non-fat sugar-free peppermint mocha with extra whipped cream.”

His jaw dropped. The victory lasted all of five seconds.

“The whipped cream makes the whole non-fat sugar-free thing pointless, but it’s your arteries.” He curled onto his feet. “Do I even want to ask what a peppermint mocha is?’

He sounded so put out she had to grin. “It’s a Christmastime special. They list the ingredients on the chalkboard by the cash register.”

“Isn’t it still November?”

She fluttered her lashes, only realizing afterward the gesture might be construed as flirting. “As far as stores are concerned, the holiday season starts the day after Thanksgiving.”

He shuddered. “There are certain things I don’t miss when I’m deployed—consumerism sure as hell tops the list.”

*

Everything had gone much better than expected. Having lived long enough to hit the big three-O, Captain Karl Reed was well aware he didn’t have the best effect on women. They liked him fine as long as he kept talking to a minimum. Too many sentences in a row, and things went downhill. Something about the way his mind worked didn’t jive with most members of the opposite sex, and he’d never cared enough about any particular female to hold his tongue. Luckily, Washington, D.C.’s bar scene provided ample opportunity for brief commitment-free hookups.

With Brennan, he didn’t need to think through every word before saying it. It could have something to do with her being as socially awkward as he—in a different way, perhaps, but at an equal level, or so he’d like to think. He’d showed up in her yuppie neighborhood half-believing he’d take one look at the chick and have the warped rose-colored glasses shatter. His obsession made no sense, and part of him had chalked it up to post-deployment euphoria. Blonde hair aside, the woman was a stereotypical geek. With thick spectacles, messy chin-length tresses, and ill-fitting clothes, she had no business causing him sexual frustration.

His first impression of her hadn’t been positive. He’d arrived late for a useless classified briefing to find a bony silhouette next to a projected screen. Gesturing widely, her arms and hair flying in odd directions, she struck him as a math-and-law-obsessed Energizer Bunny, a combination he hadn’t thought possible. But after listening to her blabber for close to an hour, he’d lost the fight to stay awake. He woke to the feel of a small finger jabbing his shoulder. Once cleared, his vision had been filled with golden hair, creamy skin, and deep green eyes.

Turned down in an adorable pout, those full luscious lips had triggered the urge to bite and taste. But by the time his brain had kicked into gear, she’d stomped off. According to his fellow unit mates, his snores had interrupted her speech to a comical degree.

Dismissing the odd attraction as a side effect of prolonged separation from Western civilization, he self-prescribed the cure of a night on the town. But for the first time in his adult life, he’d reacted to Dupont Circle’s frenzied clubbing scene with ambivalence. Sexual frustration convinced him to find out the woman’s address, and curiosity prompted him to pursue his investigation several steps further.

Returning to her table with the promised drink, he paused to savor the view. Watching her lap at the frothy whipped cream, he couldn’t decide what astounded him more—her attractiveness, or how well she’d managed to hide it. A thick unflattering hoodie and baggy jeans made her petite body resemble a rumpled tree trunk. Closer inspection brought attention to her unblemished baby-like skin, silky hair, and what might be subtle curves. A pointed nose, sharp chin, and gold-fringed eyes should have given her the appearance an oversized elf, but a lush mouth and slanting cheekbones added much-appreciated sexiness.

She cleared her throat. “I’m sure you have better things to do than watch me drink coffee.”

“Not really.” Especially since it gave him all sorts of ideas about what kissing her might feel like.

“Don’t you want your own drink?”

“I’ve already had two.”

They stared at each other. He’d never learned how to make small talk and doubted he’d gain the ability within the next few minutes. Glancing at her book, he suggested, “Why don’t you finish your novel? I’ll sit right here and watch you. You won’t even notice me.” Okay, even he realized the proposal came out creepy.

She seemed oblivious. “You’re kind of big and looming.”

Somewhat surprised she hadn’t yet gathered her things in preparation for a swift escape, his mouth opened, and even dumber words tumbled out. “I’m trained to be silent and stealthy. I could walk up to you and snap your neck, and you’d never see it coming.”

He waited for the woman to jump up and run in the opposite direction, something that often happened long before he’d put this many feet in his mouth.

“I doubt it. I have an odd reaction when you stare at me.” Gesturing at her forehead, she continued. “You know the pressure between your eyes when there’s something pointy in front of your face? Well, I get it at the back of my neck when you’re around. Weird, right? Any way…” She placed her elbows on the table and leaned forward. “I thought you embedded Air Force guys are sent over to call in drone strikes. The kung fu stuff is left to the Navy and Marines.”