Too Hot to Handle: A Boys of Summer Novel (26 page)

The doors opened and Shane motioned for Brooke to go ahead of him—the gentlemanly thing to do, but also a chance to check her out from behind. Her navy blue and white striped dress went down almost to the floor and outlined her rounded butt and slender thighs perfectly. A long side slit gave him tempting glimpses of the smooth, tan skin of her long legs. An expensive-looking, ultrasoft white sweater covered her shoulders, and fashionable white strappy sandals accented her narrow feet.

Everything about Brooke turned him on, made him feel damn lucky to be with her. Too bad he didn’t have the same effect on her.

Shane wished he’d had his phone handy to snap a picture of the expression on Brooke’s face when she said, “This room is all bed.”

He smiled. After sleeping on an uncomfortable cot for too many months, he’d opted for the king over two queens. Right this moment, he couldn’t be happier he had. “Make yourself comfortable.” He motioned to the bed.

The look she gave him made him laugh. When he got it under control, he told her, “Lie down. Or sit down.” He pointed to a hard wooden chair pushed beneath a small desk crammed into the corner. “Whatever you’d like.” He tossed his bag onto the bed, unzipped it, and dug around for a clean change of clothes, making sure to locate a long-sleeved shirt that would keep his tattoos hidden. “I’m going to take a quick shower.”

Standing in the entrance to the bathroom, he couldn’t resist teasing her some more—who knew, maybe if he kept it up she’d give in and agree—so he stuck out his head and said, “Just letting you know I am purposely leaving this door unlocked so you can come in and join me. Consider this an invitation if you need one.”

“There you go again.” Sitting primly on the corner of the bed, Brooke looked up from what he assumed was the room service menu. “Confusing me with a girlfriend.”

The number-one problem with good girls was no sex without a commitment. He sort of respected that. But it didn’t keep him from continuing his pursuit, for the fun of it as much as to get her between the sheets of his big, inviting bed. “Haven’t you ever heard of friends with benefits? I am very open to that type of friendship.”

“Of course you are.” She lowered the menu and placed it in her lap. “Unfortuna
tely, I don’t play that game.”

Unfortunate indeed.
Cold shower, here I come.
“You know, if I weren’t such an upstanding guy, I could easily say, ‘Fine. Be my girlfriend. Now get in here and shower with me.’ But where does being honest leave me?” He threw up his hands. “Showering alone,” he answered himself with a huff, all for show.

“First of all,” she said, standing, “you’d have to be a heck of a lot more inviting than that to get me in there.”

At this point, he’d happily drop to his knees and beg.

“Secondly, your honesty and straightfo
rwardness are two of the things I like most about you.”

Right now they were two of the things he liked least.

“And thirdly, if I were easy you’d lose all respect for me.”

“Now that’s where you’re wrong,” he said. “I like easy. I respect easy. Easy is one of my favorite things.”

She crossed her arms over her ribs. “And look where dating easy has gotten you, avoiding relationships altogether.”

Ouch. “I only avoid certain types of relationships. Within the last five minutes I made it clear I’m all for the friends-with-benefits relationship.” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

“Be serious.”

He didn’t want to be serious. He wanted to play and have fun. He wanted to kiss her and cuddle her and make love to her. And the fact that it appeared he wouldn’t be getting to do any of those things tonight shot a dose of cranky into his system. “Fine, you want serious? Here’s serious.”

He crossed his arms over his chest, just like she had, and leaned his shoulder against the door frame. “I’ve been in the military for eight years. It’s not like I’ve never had a girlfriend in all that time. But dating an active-duty soldier is not easy. It takes a special kind of woman.”

She gave him the look he’d seen so many times.

“I know. You think you’re different than the other women I’ve dated. You think you can handle all the time apart and having someone you love risking death day after day for months at a time.”

Her back went ramrod straight. “I have been handling it. For eight months.”

“No you haven’t, because we are not dating.” And she didn’t love him. “What happens when I’m out of touch for a while? When you see reports of bloody battles with American soldiers wounded and killed? I don’t want you worrying over me or having to grieve for me. I’m trying to protect you.”

“News flash, Shane. Just because we are not officially boyfriend and girlfriend doesn’t mean I don’t care about you or miss you or worry about you. I’m a big girl. A grown woman. I don’t need your misguided protection.”

He did not want to fight with her. But, “If we make it official, you’ll have expectations. You’ll want me to call you at a certain time and when I don’t, you’ll get mad. The longer we spend apart, the more you’ll wonder if I’m being unfaithful.” He’d been down that road too many times. “You’ll get lonely. You’ll turn to someone else for comfort.” At least with Brooke, it wouldn’t be a friend he’d known for years. “Then, right before a dangerous mission outside the wire, I’ll get your letter breaking up with me. I’ll go into battle distracted and step on an IED. Stop shaking your head. It happens. Soldiers lose their focus and wind up dead. Having a girlfriend is one more thing to think about and worry about.” One more distraction. One more responsibi
lity. One more thing that can turn to shit in a war zone.

“I’m shaking my head because I can’t believe you have such a low opinion of me, and because I can’t believe you’re lumping me in with all the other women you’ve dated without giving me a chance.”

Maybe it had started off like that. But in a short period of time he’d developed a very high opinion of Brooke, and knew for certain she wasn’t like any woman he’d ever dated. With that realization came concerns he didn’t want to share. Such as that them dating would mean she’d want to meet his family and friends and she’d want to introduce him to hers, and a woman like Brooke wouldn’t fit into his world any better than he’d fit into hers. Her father worked closely with the governor of New York State, while his drove a city bus. She enjoyed high-class social events and political fundraisers, while he spent his downtime tossing back beers with the boys at bars. She had her master’s degree, while he had a lowly GED.

When it came to life in the United States, they had very little in common. So like it or not, if they were to have any relationship at all, he had to keep it to them being pen pals and private meetings like tonight…or risk her finding out just how different they were and losing her altogether.

Weariness settled deep into his bones. He let out an exhausted breath. “I don’t want to fight with you.”

Without a word she came to him, wrapped her arms around his waist, and rested her cheek on his chest. “I don’t want to fight with you either.”

He kissed the top of her head.

“I’m sorry I upset you,” she said.

“I’m sorry I upset
you
,” he answered.

“No more talk of boyfriends and girlfriends. I promise,” she said. “You go shower. I’ll order you a big bacon cheeseburger with everything on it and extra ketchup for your French fries.”

He smiled. She knew him so well. If circumstances were different, he could easily fall in love with this woman. “Thank you.”

“After dinner we can cuddle up and watch a movie like we’ve talked about doing so many times.” She looked up at him with a mischievous sparkle in her beautiful brown eyes. “And maybe, just maybe, I’ll let you kiss me some more, since today’s a special circumstance and all.” She gave him a saucy wink.

“I’d like that.” He hugged her tightly. “I’d like that a lot.”

Keeping to a few harmless kisses would have been easier if Brooke had not answered, “Okay,” when Shane suggested they turn off all the lights in the room for a more realistic movie-watching experience. If she had not feigned interest in the romantic comedy playing on the television instead of putting a stop to Shane’s gradual maneuvering that shifted them from sitting next to each other, leaning against the headboard, to lying on their sides with his front pressed in close to her back, in the center of his large bed. If she had not come in contact with the hard, bulging evidence of his arousal and started to wonder, if she did nothing about it, would he jump into bed with the first willing woman he came across in his hometown?

Simple as that, being his girlfriend became less important than being the one to ease his ache, to pleasure him and satisfy him in a way that she hoped would leave him wanting more of her.

He shifted restlessly, again, the movement thrusting his hips, rubbing his arousal against her backside ever so slightly, again.

“You’re not watching the movie,” she pointed out.

“No,” he admitted, stating the obvious, his head buried in her hair, his lips kissing her neck. “But don’t let me keep you from watching it.”

As if she could concentrate with his large, warm body so close after so many months of imagining what it would be like. He slid his hand slowly upward. This time she made no move to stop him. As he gently cupped her left breast, he let out a deep sigh of contentment and seemed to relax a bit. When he started to move, his thumb brushing back and forth across her nipple, Brooke felt anything but content or relaxed.

“You didn’t like it?” she asked, referring to the movie, trying to keep her head clear, willing her body not to respond to his touch. A wasted effort. Her nipple hardened most enjoyably.

Nuzzling in close to her ear, he lowered his voice, squeezed her tight, and said, “I’m a little preoccupied by the beautiful, sexy woman in my arms.”

That was the problem. Brooke stiffened. She didn’t want to be some nameless woman he found sexy and wanted to screw because any woman would do.

“Stop,” he said. “Whatever you’re thinking, stop. I know you don’t want sex. But please, let me at least have this.” He held her tightly and rocked his hips. “Please.”

It wasn’t that she didn’t want sex; she wanted more than sex.

“For a little while longer,” he said, fondling her breast like a master, breathing in the scent of her hair. “I need this. So. Much.”

I need “this,” not I need “you.” That hurt. But Brooke had no one to blame but herself. He’d made it clear he didn’t want a girlfriend, yet she’d gone and fallen for him anyway. “I brought you a present,” she said, turning in his arms to face him.

In the light given off by the television she watched him close his eyes as he whispered, “Please let it be lingerie. Please let it be lingerie.”

Brooke smiled. “It is.”

His eyes shot open.

“Something sure to keep you thinking about me.” And only her. She scooted up to kiss his cheek.

“Honey, I already think about you way more than I should.” He reached up to guide her chin to the right, and a very sweet kiss followed his very sweet words.

When he finished, Brooke said, “Something you’ve been asking for.” Not at first, but in every single letter, email, and Skype session for the past three months, at least.