A Marine for Christmas (Hearts Ablaze: Men in Uniform) (2 page)

“Men really suck,” Melissa muttered an hour later, pouring herself a second glass of red wine.  The girls were sitting around Amy’s kitchen table.  A sleek bronze tray with three cream pillar candles rested in the middle, a bottle of wine was sitting in a matching bronze coaster, and Amy had already set the table with silverware, modern square plates, and simple yet refined wineglasses.  “I mean first, Ben dumps you—” Melissa continued.

“Well, technically I dumped Ben; he just got over me really quickly,” Amy interrupted
, walking over to pull the lasagna she was reheating from the oven.

“I still don’t know why you broke up with him.  But he started d
ating that other girl like a minute later, so it was practically like he dumped you.”

“
Great, that makes me feel so much better,” Amy countered, serving them each a slice of steaming hot lasagna.

Melissa flipped her sleek red hair back over her shoulders and sighed.  With
the splotches of red across her pale, porcelain skin—not to mention puffy eyes—it was quite obvious that she’d spent the afternoon crying.  She was in a mood to rant and rave, not to have Amy gently disagree with everything she said, attempting to be the voice of reason.  Amy obviously must have the patience of a saint in order to deal with preschoolers all day long.  Melissa was a real estate agent and used to being aggressive to attract new clients and close the deal.  She definitely wasn’t used to being around young children, even though she’d looked forward to starting a family one day with Michael.  As she’d spent the last ten minutes—and first glass of wine—complaining, Amy had subtly tried to change the topic and calm her down.

“Well it should!  Ben was obviously a jerk if he got over you that quickly.  Just like Michael is a
complete bastard….”

Amy carried their plates over to the table and picked up her own glass.  “I really don’t get Michael at al
l,” she said, taking a sip of Shiraz.  “Has he tried calling you?  Maybe he’ll come to his senses and change his mind.”

“As if!
  He’s probably out drinking with his Marine buddies tonight, picking up some new girl already—after all, he doesn’t want to be tied down.”

“I thought you said he worked the late shift,” Amy said.

“Well, he’ll be out there this weekend.  The guy didn’t even shed a single tear.  And there I was, sitting there sobbing on my sofa, like some teenager who’d just gotten dumped by her first boyfriend.”

“He did really love you. 
He asked you to marry him!  Maybe he just needs some time?  Or got cold feet?”

“
Pfffffft,” Melissa said, expressing her distaste in that idea.  “Michael had his chance.  He had the girl, bought the ring, set the date….It’s over.”

“
So no second chances?”

“We broke up. 
Finito.  Finished.  Over.”

Amy eyed the wine bottle and wondered if her friend had poured even more when she wasn’t looking.  Melissa wasn’t one to overindulge, but she didn’t blame her for need
ing an extra glass or two tonight.  Anyone who was just dumped by her fiancé would be equally as upset.

“
Anyway.  I saw that hottie across the street when I was coming in.”  She let out a long whistle, and Amy laughed in surprise.

“Who?”

“The Marine across the street from you.  I don’t know his name.  But I saw him jogging by when I pulled up—bulging biceps, a tattoo peeking out from underneath his sleeve, broad chest, strong legs….”  She eyed Amy wickedly.

“You mean
Jason?  You just broke up with someone!”

“I was just
dumped
by someone.  But I didn’t mean for me.  I was thinking more along the lines that
you
haven’t dated anyone in a while….”

“Jason?  He’s way too old for me.  And that’s really weird; I’ve never seen him jog by here before.
  I go running all the time….”  Amy looked puzzled as she contemplated this new piece of information.

“He’s what?  Ten years older than us?
”  Amy’s attention snapped back to her friend.  “That is hardly
too old.
  Ten years is nothing.  And look at it this way: He’s also got ten more years of
experience.
”

“Experience?”
Amy asked, somehow sensing where Melissa was going with this.

“
Experience.”

“Was Michael lacking in that area?”

“Of course not!  Michael was amazing in bed.  A-MAZE-ing!  But I was thinking more for you.”

Amy burst out laughing.
  “Great.  I’ve been upset about Ben all this time, and my new
lover
could very well have been just out my front door.”

“
Just across the street.  I like your way of thinking,” Melissa said with a grin, spilling some of her wine on the table as she excitedly picked up her glass again.

“I was being sarcastic!  And I think it’s time I cut you off
,” Amy said, taking the second bottle they’d opened away.  She’d had two glasses compared to Melissa’s…four?  Five?  Who was counting?  “Ex-fiancé or not,” she continued, “we still have to get to work in the morning.”

“Oh, I don’t have to be in until 10:00,” Melissa said carelessly.

“Lucky you.  I’ve got a roomful of kids coming at 9:00—and I have to be ready for them.”

“All right, whatever.  I’ll hang out her
e and watch some reality TV with you while you do your crafty stuff.  That new dating show is on tonight.  Maybe I should sign up….”

Amy laughed as she cleared their plates away.  Apparently the evening of cheering up her best friend had worked like a charm.  Melissa had called her sobbing only several hours ago and was now checking out
the men who lived on her street and talking about signing up for a dating show.  She knew Melissa’s newfound cheerfulness was only the wine talking—her friend would be upset again tomorrow, once the reality of her situation set in, and they’d have to deal with cancelling the wedding.  Amy had just picked up her bridesmaid’s dress two weeks ago and wondered if she could return it since it hadn’t been altered yet.  She sighed, wondering what on earth had gotten into Michael.  One thing was more true than ever though: their girl’s weekend couldn’t get here soon enough.

Jason
opened the front of his mailbox, pulling out a pile of bills, an ad, and one lonely sports magazine.  He glanced at the football player on the cover, jumping midair to catch the ball.  Although the guy was in good shape, Jason wondered how he’d fare during their early morning training runs.  It was one thing to run around a field holding a football, but could this guy handle running distances in uniform with gear strapped to him?  That was another beast entirely.

Jason had
been on a different shift down in Quantico this week but would be back to his usual arrival time of 0600 on Monday morning.  The change in schedule had thrown off his whole routine.  He didn’t normally jog around the neighborhood in the evening, preferring instead to train on base. He’d seen the redhead staring at him as he jogged down the street earlier.  Was she a friend of Amy’s?  Although he’d just gotten a glimpse of her as he ran past, he thought it looked like her face was red from crying.

He guessed the redhead must be a friend or coworker—definitely not a sister.  Whereas Amy was
brunette, tanned, and toned, the redhead was pale and slightly more curvaceous.  He wondered if Amy had any family close by, if she were even from the area.  Jason had grown up a military brat, traveling all over the world.  His parents had retired out in California.  His brother was also a Marine, currently deployed in the Middle East, and his cousin was an Army Special Forces officer.  He barely knew any other lifestyle.  To serve and protect had been ingrained in him since he was a young boy.  Since he, his brother, and cousin had all joined the military like his father and uncle, he knew the call to serve ran deep in their family.

Tossing his mail on the kitchen table, he headed upstairs to grab a quick shower before dinner.  Catching a glimpse of himself in the bathroom mirror, he could see the way his biceps bulged in the white tee
shirt that he was wearing, the anchor and globe of his Marine Corps tattoo just peeking out from beneath the sleeve.  He was dripping in sweat from his run, but he looked strong and healthy—his blue eyes alert, his skin still slightly tanned from time spent outdoors, his dark brown hair cropped short.  He smirked at the memory of Red watching him.  Although he was used to getting attention from women, she wasn’t really his type.  Any woman that would stand there on the street ogling him as he jogged by wasn’t exactly his style.  That was way too obvious.  He seemed to always fall for the more sweet and subtle, girl-next-door type.

Stripping off his shirt, he turned on the shower, letting the water heat up. 
Nope, Red definitely wasn’t anyone he’d be chasing after.  Now her friend, on the other hand, was another story….

Amy glanced around her classroom the next morning, ready for the fifteen little faces that would soon come
walking in through the door, hand-in-hand with their parents.  When she was a kid it was always her mom who dropped her off at school.  But these days moms, dads, grandparents, and even nannies were the norm.  It was rare that she didn’t have a full assortment of caregivers coming in with her preschoolers.  She’d set an activity out at each seat, ready to engage each child until everyone had arrived and she could begin today’s lesson.

“Hi Chelsea!” she called out to a little blonde girl walking into the classroom, holding on to her daddy’s hand.

“Hi Miss Amy,” the little girl said shyly.

“I think she’s coming down with a cold, so
please give me or Emily a call if we need to come pick her up.”

“Of course,” Amy replied, guiding Chelsea over to a seat.
  “I’ll keep an eye on her.”

Two more kids came walking in with their parents, one crying as he clung tightly to his mother. 
The beginning of each class was the hardest until the kids were all seated, the parents gone, and the class had started the day’s activities.  Then they could ease into their routine and before she knew it, three hours would have passed by and the parents would return.

Her phone began
beeping in her purse, and she hurried over to turn it off.  It was unlike her to forget and leave it on, but she’d been so distracted this morning as she rushed off to work.  Melissa had ended up spending the night, which was for the best given her state the night before.  Melissa had been in no hurry to leave this morning, since it turned out her first showing was pushed back until 11:30 a.m.  Amy had rushed around trying to get ready as Melissa lounged on the sofa.  Then her ex-boyfriend Ben had randomly texted her, asking if he could stop by one day to pick up some skiing equipment that he’d left in her basement.  She couldn’t even recall why he’d needed to store it there and wondered where he could be going skiing in November, but she hoped he’d at least come by alone.  Then as she’d been packing up her car, ready to head off to work, her neighbor Jason had called out “Good Morning.”  She’d been so startled she almost dropped the materials she was carrying for school.  Jason wasn’t ever around when she left in the morning, and truth be told, she wasn’t used to neighborly chats with anyone at that hour.

She quickly glanced at the message on her phone before turning it off completely.

Are you out of coffee?

She rolled her eyes before stuffing her phone back into her purse.  Couldn’t Melissa figure out how to open the cupboard and
look for a fresh can?  Honestly.

“Miss Amy!” other little voices began to call
out, and she turned her attention back to her students.  There was little else that she loved more than being in the classroom, and the kids deserved her full attention.  Melissa and Ben and everyone else would just have to wait until later.

***

Melissa pulled her hair back into a sleek ponytail, examining her reflection in the mirror.  Her eyes were slightly puffy, but her face was no longer red like it had been from her sob-fest yesterday afternoon.  God, she really shouldn’t have had so much to drink last night.  She had to show a house to some potential new clients in less than an hour.  Digging around in her purse, she pulled out the make-up that she carried with her.  She carefully lined her eyes with a subtle brown that seemed to make her green eyes pop and then added a few swipes of black mascara.  The pressed powder evened out her complexion, and the red lipstick provided the finishing touch.  Hopefully the final result made her look calm, cool, and collected, not the heartbroken mess that she actually felt like.

Amy had let her borrow some clothes so she didn’t have to go home and change.  It wasn’t like she and Michael lived together, but
his things were definitely around, and she just didn’t feel like heading home, facing them, and dealing with the shambles her life was currently in.  Amy had pulled a black wrap dress from her closet that skimmed Amy’s curves but hugged Melissa’s nicely.  It might be a touch snug but would have to do.  Thank God they wore the same size shoe.  Melissa slipped into a pair of black stilettos—“hooker heels” they’d jokingly called them back in college.  It was true they certainly never failed to garner attention from the opposite sex.

Of course the only attention she wanted right now was from Michael, and she was still in a state of shock over their sudden break-up yesterday.
  After all that, it was just over?  She still had to tell her parents, friends, and coworkers; contact all the wedding vendors; cancel the honeymoon.  Well, Michael had booked it, so that would fall on his plate.  But the list was seemingly endless.  The last thing she’d wanted to do yesterday was sit down and have a rational discussion with him.  At first she’d screamed at him, and then after her anger had been fully unleashed, she’d broken down and sobbed.  Although he’d offered to stay, she’d kicked him out of the house.  As if having the guy who’d jilted you stick around would somehow be a comfort.

Except they really did have things to discuss, and she knew at some point she wanted a little more closure.  That was more than her little sister
Becky had, when her boyfriend was killed in action last year in Afghanistan.  She knew Becky would give anything to have one last goodbye.  Yes, when she was feeling a little more calm and rational, she’d sit down and discuss things with Michael.  There was still logistics to sort out, things of his she’d need to return, and the heartbreaking, impossible task of somehow finding a way to move on.