Navy Brat

“What about children? Surely, they’d stick by their mother at a time like this.”

“Two daughters. They’re both married and live outside the state. From what I can remember, one lives in California and the other someplace in Texas. Margo’s completely alone, probably for the first time in her life.”

“How’s she handling it?”

“It’s hard to tell. We’re only two classes into the course, but as I said before, she’s shaky and fragile. Time will help.”

“My parents were divorced.” Brand seldom spoke of his family, and even more rarely of the trauma that had ripped his life apart at such a tender age. “I was just a kid at the time.”

“Was it bad?”

He answered her with a short nod. Without a doubt, it was the worst ordeal Brand could ever remember happening to him. His whole world had been shattered. He’d become a weapon to be used against one parent or the other. And he’d only been eleven at the time. Far too young to understand, far too old to cry.

“I rarely saw my father afterward. Every time he and my mother were in the same room together, they’d start arguing. My guess is that it was easier for him to move as far away as possible than to deal with her.”

“So when he divorced your mother, he divorced you, too?”

Once again, Brand responded with a short nod. His life had been filled with one trauma after another after his father had moved out of the state. A year or two later, when his mother had remarried, all communication and child support had stopped. Brand had been made to feel guilty for every bit of food he ate or each pair of shoes he outgrew. While attending college, he’d become involved in the officers’ training program offered by the navy. His life had changed from that moment forward. For the better.

Brand found security and acceptance in the navy. What the military had given him, it had taken away from Erin. He understood her complaints well. She hated moving, never planting roots or building lasting relationships. Brand thrived on the security. The navy was his home. The navy was his life. No one would ever take that away from him. There would always be a navy. Budget cuts hurt, bases were being closed down all across the country and military spending was being decreased, but he was secure, more secure than he had been since childhood.

“But I have a feeling about Margo,” Erin continued. “She’s far stronger than she realizes. That knowledge will come in time, but she may travel some rough waters before this ordeal is finished.”

“You’re strong, too.”

Erin leaned her head to examine his face, and Brand took advantage of the moment to press his hands gently to her rosy cheeks. Her eyes found his, and he read her confusion as clearly as he viewed her eagerness. She wanted this kiss as much as he wanted to kiss her.

Gently he pressed his mouth to hers. The kiss was deep and thorough, his lips sliding across hers with unhurried ease and a familiarity that belied their experience. Slowly he lifted his head and drew in a deep, stabilizing breath. A bolt of sizzling electricity arched between them.

“Oh, damn,” Erin whispered, sounding very much as if she were about to weep. Her eyes remained closed, and Brand was tempted to kiss her moist lips a second time. In fact, he had to restrain himself from doing so.

“Damn?”

“I was afraid of this.” Her words were hoarse, as if she were having trouble speaking. Her eyes fluttered open, and she gazed up longingly at him. Irish eyes. Sweet Irish eyes.

“Don’t be afraid,” he whispered, just before he kissed her a second time. And a third. A fourth. His hands were in her hair, loving the silky feel of it as he ran his fingers through the lengthy curls.

Gradually he felt her opening up to him, like the satin petals of a rosebud. Either she’d had poor teachers or she was inexperienced in the art of kissing. Brand didn’t know which, didn’t care.

Positioned as they were against the tree, he couldn’t get close enough to her. The need to cradle her softness grew until every part of his body ached. He wanted her beneath him, warm and willing. Open and sweet.

With their mouths joined, he rolled away from the tree, taking her with him. Erin gave a small cry of alarm, and when she opened her mouth he groaned and thrust his tongue deep into the moist warmth.

She rebelled for a moment, not having expected this new intimacy. It took her a second to adjust before she responded, meekly at first, by giving him her tongue. They touched, stroked and played against each other in an erotic game until Brand deepened the kiss to a level neither of them would be able to tolerate for long.

Her hands clenched his shirt, and Brand wondered if she could feel how hard and fiercely his heart was beating. He could feel hers, excited and chaotic, pounding against his chest. Her pulse wasn’t the only thing he could feel. Her nipples had pearled and stood out. The need to slip his hand under her sweater and fill his palm with her breast ate at him like lye. He couldn’t…not here.

He longed to feel her and taste her. Sweet heaven, if he didn’t stop now he’d end up really frightening her. He probably had already. He was as hard as concrete against her thigh. The way they were lying, there wasn’t any way he could hide what she was doing to him. Only years of training and self-discipline kept him still. He longed to rotate his hips to help ease the terrible ache in his loins.

He kissed Erin again, struggling within himself to take it slow and easy. His mouth gentled over hers, in sharp contrast to the wild, uncontrolled kisses they’d shared seconds earlier. She groaned and moved against him, causing Brand to moan himself. His innocent Irish miss hadn’t a clue of the torment she was putting him through. Dear heaven, she was sweet. So warm and moist.

Brand had fully intended to cool their lovemaking, but he made a single tactical error that was nearly his undoing. Just because a kiss was gentle, it didn’t make it any less sensual, or any less devastating.

By the time Brand lifted his head, he was weak, depleted, yet at the same time exhilarated. Shocked eyes stared up at him. He smiled and noted how the edges of her delectable mouth quivered slightly.

She raised her hand, and her fingertips grazed his face. Her touch was as smooth and light as a velvet glove. Unable to resist, Brand kissed her again.

“Are you going to say damn again?” he teased.

Her grin widened. “No.”

“But you should?”

She nodded, then closed her eyes and slowly expelled her breath. “I don’t know how this happened.”

“You don’t?”

“I’d hoped…”

He pressed a finger across her lips. “I know what you hoped! You couldn’t have picked a more public place and for obvious reasons, which I fear have backfired on us both. As it is, I may have to lie on my belly the rest of the afternoon.”

“You will?” As the meaning of his words sank into her brain, Erin’s cheeks blossomed with color. “I…I shouldn’t have said anything.” As if she needed something to occupy her hands, she reached for one of the oranges, peeling it open. She held out a dripping slice to him. “Want one?”

Sitting with his legs folded in front of him, Brand nodded. He thought Erin meant to hand it to him, but instead she leaned forward to feed him personally. Her eyes were locked with his. A second slice followed the first, but when the juice flowed from the edge of his mouth she bent toward him and licked it away.

When her tongue scraped the side of his lips, Brand’s heart went still. She offered him another slice, but he took it from her fingers and fed it to her. He watched as she chewed and swallowed, and then he leaned forward to kiss her. She tasted of orange and woman. He deepened the kiss and was gratified when she opened up to him in excited welcome. His tongue swept her mouth in slow, even strokes, conquering as it plundered.

Erin looped her arms around his neck and melted in his arms. “I promised myself this wouldn’t happen.”

“And now that it has?” He angled his head to one side and dropped a series of long, slow kisses on her neck, working his way under her chin and to her ear. “Do you want me to stop?”

“No.”

The satisfaction that one word gave him was worth a thousand from anyone else. “Let’s get out of here.”

“Why?” How afraid she sounded.

His mouth hovered a scant inch from hers. “Because there are other places I want to kiss you, and I don’t think you’d appreciate me doing so in public.”

His lips inched back to hers in breath-stealing increments. The closer his mouth edged toward hers, the choppier her breath became.

“Brand…I don’t think this is such a good—”

He silenced any protest with a hot, need-filled kiss. She welcomed his tongue, and was panting by the time he dragged his mouth from hers.

“Come on,” he said, vaulting to his feet. He reached for her hand, pulling her upright. “Let’s get out of here.”

“Where…will we go?”

“Your place.”

“Brand…I don’t know.”

He turned and planted his hands squarely on her shoulders, his eyes refusing to release hers. “I’m not going to make love to you, yet. That’s a promise. We need to talk, and when we do, I want it to be in private.”

She might have had objections to the high-handed manner in which he was issuing orders, but she didn’t voice any. Nor did she speak while he drove to her house in West Seattle, although the ride took nearly thirty minutes. The only words she did manage were to relay her address and give directions once he was in the vicinity.

It wasn’t until he helped her out of the car that she did chance a look in his direction. Brand had to smile. Her eyes seemed so round and wide, an aircraft carrier could have sailed through them.

“He said yet, you idiot.” She repeated the sentence two or three times once they were inside the house. Brand found it amusing the way she talked to herself. Without telling him what she was doing, she walked, as if in a daze, into the kitchen and started assembling a pot of coffee.

Brand hadn’t a clue what she was mumbling about. He wasn’t interested in coffee, either, but since she hadn’t asked him, he didn’t say so.

“There’s something you should know,” he began. Then he changed his mind. This wasn’t the time. He needed to taste her again.

“What?” She sounded as though she were coming out of a coma.

“Come here first.”

She walked over to him as though she were sleepwalking, her steps sluggish and her look disoriented.

“Kiss me first,” Brand whispered, “then I’ll tell you.”

As if she were in a stupor, she planted her hands on his chest, then stood on tiptoe and brushed her lips lightly over his. Unable to hold himself back any longer, Brand wrapped his arms around her, pulled her close and buried his face in her neck, savoring her softness.

For the last several days he’d been wondering what it was about Erin that preyed so heavily on his mind. After kissing her, he understood. He felt strong when he was with her. Strong emotionally. Strong physically. When they were together, he became another Samson. She gave him a feeling of being needed.

She needed him, too. She’d never admit it, of course, never deliberately tell him as much, but it was true.

“You said we needed to talk,” she reminded him. With what seemed like a good deal of effort, she moved away from him.

“Yes,” Brand answered softly, and rubbed a hand along the back of his neck. “What are you doing every day for the next four days?”

“Why?” A worried look dominated her face. Then her eyes, which had been so gentle and submissive only seconds before, flashed to life with a fire that all but scorched Brand. “You don’t need to tell me. You’re only going to be in Seattle four more days.”

Chapter Four

“Why are you so angry?” Brand demanded, not understanding Erin. He was being as honest as he knew how to be with her, and she was looking at him as though he’d just announced he was an ax murderer.

“You know…You know…” She walked over to the cupboard and slammed two ceramic mugs down with enough force to crack the kitchen counter. “From the beginning you’ve known how I feel about navy men.”

“I didn’t mislead you,” he reminded her in as reasonable a tone as he could muster. “You knew from the first I was on a short assignment.”

Grudgingly she answered him with an abrupt nod.

If Brand was upset about anything, it was the fact that he’d waited so long to do as his friend Casey MacNamera had asked and checked up on the old man’s daughter. If Brand had contacted her the first week he’d arrived in Seattle, a lot of things might have worked out differently.

“Here’s your coffee.” The hot liquid sloshed over the edges of the mug when Erin set it on the glass table top.

He pulled out a beige cushioned chair and sat. His hands cupped the mug while he waited, giving Erin the time she needed to sort through her feelings.

It took her far longer than he expected. She paced the kitchen ten or fifteen times, pausing twice, her eyes revealing her confusion and her doubt. Both times she glared at him as though he’d committed unspeakable crimes. After a while, her brisk steps slowed, and she started talking to herself, mumbling something unintelligible.

“Am I forgiven?” Brand asked when she sat in the chair across the table from him.

“Sure,” she answered, giving him a weak smile. “What’s there to forgive?”

“I’m pleased you feel that way.” Because of the abrupt switch in her behavior, Brand didn’t feel as confident.

“Meeting you has…been an interesting experience” was all she’d say.

Brand felt the same way himself. “Can I see you tomorrow?”

“I’m busy.”

Brand frowned, and a sinking sensation attacked the pit of his stomach. “Doing what?”

“I don’t believe that’s any of your concern.”

Oh, boy, here it comes, he mused. “But it is. If you’re attending church services, then I’ll go with you. If you’ve promised a friend you’d help them move, then I’ll cart boxes myself.” If Erin thought the Irish could be stubborn, she had yet to butt heads with the German in him.

“Brand, please don’t make this any more difficult than it already is. I can’t change who I am for you. I told you from the first I don’t want to become involved with anyone in the military, and I meant it. I don’t know why you can’t accept that. And I don’t even want to know. You’re leaving, and when it comes right down to it, I’m glad. It’s for the best.”

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