Dear Reader,

What happens when you take one sexy diner waitress, put her directly in the path of a hot Marine on leave, create a phosphorus-burning chemistry and then tell them they can’t have sex? Well, read on …

In Distinguished Service, active duty Marine Mace Harrison is back in Colorado Springs for two purposes: to be awarded the Navy Star for courageous deeds he views as only doing his job, and to feel out old friend Darius Folsom’s new security firm Lazarus, where he hopes to work in six months when he retires his uniform. What he doesn’t bank on is meeting irresistible beauty Geneva Davis. They click on every level from the moment they meet. Problem is, Geneva is in no condition to get involved with anyone, and he is in no position to take on anyone in that condition. So they strike a bargain: pretend to date for the duration of his leave to clear out unwanted emotional clutter from their lives. A platonic arrangement that finds them exactly where they shouldn’t be—setting fire to the bedroom sheets …

We hope you enjoy Mace and Geneva’s blazing-hot, emotional journey toward sexily-ever-after. Curious about upcoming Tori titles? Visit www.facebook.com/toricarrington.

Here’s wishing you love, romance and hot reading.

Lori Schlachter Karayianni and Tony Karayianni aka Tori Carrington

About the Author

RT Book Reviews Career Achievement Award-winning, bestselling duo Lori and Tony Karayianni are the power behind the pen name TORI CARRINGTON. Their more than fifty novels include numerous Mills & Boon Blaze miniseries, as well as the ongoing Sofie Metropolis, P.I. comedic mystery series with another publisher. Visit www.toricarrington.net and www.sofiemetro.com for more information on the couple and their titles.

Distinguished
Service
Tori Carrington

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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This book is dedicated to dear friends

Cris Gaytan Beck and Deb Leahy Dunphy, whom I think of fondly every time I see my right foot:

You both are tattooed on my heart.

1

LAZARUS SECURITY WAS EXACTLY the type of well-oiled engine he could see himself willing to get his hands dirty with.

Mace Harrison squinted into the watery early November sunlight where he stood near the back of the training center strategically located behind the building. Everything at the company was top of the line, including personnel. Situated on several acres just outside Colorado Springs, Lazarus was an extraordinary operation that in a short time was already gaining notable momentum within the private security industry.

It was one of the reasons why he was there.

The other was Lazarus partner Darius Folsom.

He nodded at his old friend now.

How far did they go back? Fifteen years, at least. To the first time Mace’s parents had shipped him and his older brother Marcus off to live with his paternal grandfather for the summer? Their military family had moved to yet another house in yet another city and he’d been young enough to need supervision, and old enough to cause trouble because he’d hated moving. And then there was his need to escape the shadow his brother cast that threatened to suffocate him. Dari and his family had lived around the block from his grandfather and he and Mace had become fast friends.

They’d enlisted in the Marines at around the same time—by that point Mace choosing to live at his grandfather’s house, which offered him greater independence—but they hadn’t been stationed together until the past year.

Darius Folsom had recently completed his second tour, but Mace still had a six-month stretch ahead of him. He was back home for a brief week break, investigating job opportunities, Lazarus at the top of the list.

Of course, it was also possible he’d take on that counter-terrorism desk job he’d been offered in Washington, D.C.

And he was purposely ignoring the fact that he was also there to accept an award he didn’t deserve and didn’t want.

The Navy Cross …

A small bit of metal that might as well be the size of a Humvee as far as he was concerned.

Of course, some brave men and women went their entire lives without receiving such an honor.

He supposed he should feel guilty for not wanting it. But considering everything … well, many had made the ultimate sacrifice and received nothing more than a military burial.

How would his brother feel about the medal? He imagined Marcus would give him one of his trademark smirks and slap him hard on the back. “Still running after me, little bro? Think you’ll catch up? You might want to pick up the pace.”

Of course, Mace could only guess at what he’d say. Because Marcus wasn’t there. Not anymore.

But Mace still felt shadow hands choking him from behind, a sensation that was even stronger when he was within a hundred miles of his parents.

A time like now.

“So what do you think?” Dari said hesitantly, after having given him the nickel tour of Lazarus Security, apparently having noticed the darkening of his expression.

“Impressive,” Mace said, shaking off his thoughts although he knew better than to try to rid himself of the shadow; that would be there forever. “Very impressive.”

Darius’s grin was his response.

“Good job, old pal.” Mace squeezed his shoulder. “This is really something. You can tell you’ve put a lot of work into it.”

“Thanks.”

It still amazed him that Dari drew such words close to heart. Oh, not from anyone. The big, tough Marine wasn’t easily flattered. But when it came to his friends … Amazing. “Don’t let the success go to your head,” he teased now.

Dari laughed. “Don’t worry. This is a joint endeavor and I had very little to do with the start-up. I was too busy overseas getting my ass shot and saved by someone we both know.”

Mace grimaced as he glanced at his friend’s leg. “You’d have made it out on your own.”

“Maybe. Maybe not.”

What went unsaid was that several of their team hadn’t made it out.

And it was that incident that not only still gave Mace—and very likely Dari—nightmares, it was what had ultimately earned him that damn medal he’d be accepting at some sort of bigwig event that Saturday.

He wondered if it wasn’t too late to hop onto the first transport out. He’d take full-on assault from enemy forces over what he was facing in days.

“That’s how you earned it,” Dari said.

“I was just doing my job.”

“No, Mace, you always do more than your job.”

“You’d have done the same.”

“Would I have? I’d like to think I would. But I don’t know. While I would have ultimately done what was needed, I would have likely hesitated that split second to assess the situation before diving in. You …” Dari fell silent, undoubtedly reflecting on that late afternoon in the mountains of Waziristan when they’d been lied to by villagers and surrounded by enemy forces the instant they were outside town. “You charged straight in, to hell with the consequences.”

“Some would say that’s stupid.”

Dari squinted at him. “If you had hesitated, a leg wound would have been the least of my worries. And you’d have returned home to attend a very different event.”

Mace didn’t even want to consider that possibility. Not then, not now.

“What’s done is done,” he said. “I’d prefer it if everyone looked forward rather than back.”

Dari half-smiled. “Yeah.” He nodded. “Yeah.”

Mace shifted his weight from one foot to the other, wishing the subject done.

“Come on,” Dari said, seeming to pick up on his mindset. “Let’s go into town and grab some grub. I’ve got a favor to ask. Oh, and I hope you don’t mind, I told Megan we’d meet up with her at The Barracks afterward for a drink.”

Mace nearly sighed audibly in relief. “Fine with me.” He’d known Dari’s wife since she was little more than the reason his friend bought acne cream when the occasional zit popped up on his face. He’d only been in town for a few days and he’d enjoy the chance to catch up with her, find out what both of them had been up to outside their working at Lazarus together.

“She’ll be alone, right?” he asked, a thought occurring to him.

“What?”

Damn.

His friend had never been any good at lying. “Hell, Dari, I’m not in town for that long. I’d like to spend some time with my friends before heading back.”

“Surely there’s a little room for some friendly company.”

“No. There isn’t.”

“Aw. She’s a real sweetheart. I promise you’ll like her.”

That was the problem, he thought.

He didn’t want to like anyone. Not right now. Not without knowing where he was going to land in six months, if, in fact, he landed at all.

Not after what had happened the last time he’d tried to make a long-distance relationship work.

“Sorry,” Dari said. “I know you asked me not to do it. And I really haven’t. It’s Megan’s idea. I know how you feel about people knowing your business, so while I made your feelings on the matter known to Meg, I didn’t tell her why you felt that way. Without that …”

Without that, she couldn’t understand why he was adamant about not dating while on this leave.

“You’ll understand if I pass on that drink then,” he said.

Dari looked disappointed, but finally he nodded.

They walked back to the main structure, passing armed recruits making their way out to the state-of-the-art shooting range along the way. He shared his friend’s disappointment. He truly would have enjoyed having a beer with him and Megan tonight. But to be placed next to a woman hoping to be swept off her feet, one who looked at him with big doe eyes, who promised forever and then moved on to someone else while he was overseas …

No.

And that meant a long night stretched out in front of him with nothing to do but stare at his motel room walls.

He could go over to see his grandfather again, but he’d gotten into hot water with the nursing home attendants for having stayed past regular visiting hours once already. He didn’t want to risk having his visitation privileges revoked.

His grandfather …

Mace grinned even as he shook his head. The old man had one foot in the grave and still somehow managed to chase around anything female like a spry twenty-year-old.

Well, okay, maybe a spry twenty-year-old with a walker.

He remembered their last conversation. “Give me something, kid,” Dwayne Harrison had requested that morning. “Good-looking stud like you? Them skirts gotta be falling all over you. Surely you could send some sweet stuff my way.”

Mace had merely smiled.

Oh, he planned to date again. Hopefully soon. Once he was able to get rid of the bad taste Janine had left in his mouth.

Of course, he could always go over and visit his parents. They’d settled back in his father’s hometown five years or so ago when his dad finally retired.

Still, somehow, he didn’t look at their house as home.

And the shadow hands tightened at the thought.

Dari cleared his throat. “I don’t think I’ve had a chance to say it yet, but … well, I was sorry to hear about Janine. You deserve better than what she did to you.”

Mace turned his head so quickly to stare at Dari, his neck cracked. It wasn’t like his friend to mention something so personal in such a casual setting. At least, not without downing a few beers first.

“What?” Dari asked.

Of course, his friend couldn’t know that Mace had no sooner switched his cell phone on after his flight than he’d received a voice mail from the woman in question. He’d stopped dead in the middle of the airport terminal, staring at the notification. He hadn’t heard from her in nearly eight months. What could she possibly want now?

He’d found out soon enough. Her words still reverberated through his mind.

“Welcome home, Mace. I know I’m probably the last person you expected to hear from, but … Well, I just wanted to say I’m sorry … again. And to tell you I’d love to see you while you’re in town. Call me … please.”

Curiously, hearing her voice hadn’t moved him in the least. But her apology and her request to see him again had elicited a very specific response: Hell no.

He opened the door and stepped aside so his friend could precede him inside. “Something tells me you’re getting a bit soft around the middle.”

Dari rubbed a rock-hard six-pack.

“Not that middle.”

They chuckled and walked back to Dari’s office in the front of the building.

While Mace could make light of his relationship woes when the situation called for it, there was nothing but heaviness in his heart at the memory of Janine’s betrayal.

“So, Rocky’s Diner after I close up shop here.”

He nodded. “Rocky’s Diner. Meet you there in an hour.”

They shook hands and gave each other a bro hug. Then Mace headed out to the parking lot where his rental car waited, trying not to think about Janine … or the phone call he’d gotten from her that morning.

He failed.

GENEVA DAVIS TOOK three meat loaves out of the industrial oven, swiping the back of one of the oven mitts across her brow after placing the last on the stainless-steel counter. Two of the kitchen staff had called in sick this afternoon, leaving her and one of the other waitresses to pick up the slack at Rocky’s Diner. Monday’s Meat Loaf Mania was one of their busiest nights when all staff was present. Handling it with two people short was going to make the evening hell on earth.

Trudy Grant, the mercurial owner who was a combination of Betty White witty cuteness and Bea Arthur brashness, hung up the phone on the wall near the door. “Cindy just called in.” She shook her head. “This damn flu is going to put me out of business.”

Make that three people short.

Of course, Trudy’s proclamation was an exaggeration; something or other was going to put her out of business at least three times a day. Still, somehow she’d managed to keep the diner’s heart beating for the past twenty years when she’d bought the previous owner out.

Tiffany, the other waitress, breezed by with warm pies to stock the counter displays in the other room. “Cindy ain’t sick. Cindy has a blind date tonight.”

Geneva shared a smile with Mel, the main cook, but didn’t say anything as she slid off the mitts and gave the large pot of homemade mashed potatoes a stir. As expected, Trudy went off like a bomb, filling the kitchen with inventive curse words. Everyone moved around her, giving her the wide berth she required. They all knew the steam would dissipate and Trudy would be operating on full throttle again soon without risk of being scalded.

Geneva moved around Mel, where he tossed burgers, to turn off the alarm for the French fries. She took the basket out of the oil and hung it on the rungs above to drain.

“Oh, and Gen?” Tiffany poked her head back inside the kitchen. “Your Baby Daddy Dustin just took up residence in his usual place at the counter,”

Geneva stood perfectly still for a moment, staring unseeingly at the golden potatoes, battling back a sudden surge of nausea.

“You okay?”

She glanced at where Mel had leaned in to quietly ask the question.

“Yeah. Fine.” She smiled. “Thanks.”

She removed her hand from where it lay against her stomach, a spot she often found it resting lately, and then tipped the fries out onto two plates and salted them.

Lately, it was getting harder and harder to face Dustin. She didn’t know how to explain in a way that would register with him that just because she was pregnant, it didn’t mean they were a couple. And that she didn’t expect anything more from him but to be a good dad. But he seemed determined to make something out of nothing. And his unwanted attention was eroding what had once been a great friendship.

A friendship that had accidentally become more for five whole minutes a little over two months ago.

It wasn’t that the sex had been bad …

Okay, maybe it had been.

But that wasn’t the reason she didn’t want to be anything more than a joint parent with him. They were friends—period.

And the one-nighter had happened on the day she’d buried her mother in the ground and her sadness in a bottle of tequila.

“I remember my wife couldn’t even keep crackers down during her first try,” Mel said, putting two cheeseburgers onto buns and then handing the plates to her.

“Thankfully I haven’t been sick once.” She smiled as she dressed both burgers and then balanced all four plates on her arms. “I only feel like I’m going to be.”

All … the … time.

Trudy gathered her wits. “With my luck, your first time will be all over one of the tables. A full one.”

“Knock wood,” Geneva said, edging through the swinging doors to deliver the burgers to Table 6, passing Tiffany as she went.

“Trade you Table 7 for 3,” the too-pretty nineteen-year-old said.

That meant there was someone male and attractive at Table 7, one grouped in her regular station. She didn’t even glance that way. Instead she took in Table 3. A crowd of rowdy teenagers.

“Pass.”

“I’ll share the tip with you. Fifty-fifty.”

Geneva kept walking.

“And you can keep the other tip.”

She let her silence speak for her.

She genuinely didn’t have it in her to deal with the other table just then. Not after pulling a double shift and working all last night to get in a rush job to design a last-minute sales flyer for Johnny’s Jalopies car dealership.

She said hello to Dustin as she passed without stopping to hear what he might have to say, then waited with a smile for the couple at Table 6 to move their joined hands before placing the burgers and fries down in front of them.

“Anything else I can get you for now?” she asked.

“Ketchup,” the girl asked.

“On the table.”

“Oh. Thanks.”

“Are the pies fresh?”

“Always. Today there’s blueberry, apple and, of course, Trudy’s chocolate marshmallow.”

“I’ll take a piece of the blueberry,” the girl said.

“And I’ll have Trudy’s,” the guy added.

“Very good. You want them now or after you’ve finished?”

“Now.”

“After.”

“I can do both,” Geneva said.

She got the coffeepot, which unfortunately happened to be near where Dustin sat, and the blueberry pie. After delivering the pie, she moved on to Table 7, filling the two cups that had been turned up to indicate coffee would be appreciated.

“Welcome … gentlemen.”

Wow.

Okay, so she didn’t normally agree with Tiffany’s taste in men, which seemed to run from blond kids with mohawks to tattooed motorcyclists. But this time, the fickle teen was spot on.

She recognized Darius Folsom. He came in to the diner often enough and was a great guy along with a great-looking one.

But his tablemate was new.

And he was hotter than a July Colorado Springs day.

She silently cleared her throat. Not that she was interested. After all, she was an expectant mother. But she did still have a pulse.

And, apparently, a sex drive. Something she hadn’t anticipated, given her condition. Which probably explained her unusual, spellbound response.

Just looking at this guy made her think of sweaty sighs and hungry kisses.

“Hi, Geneva,” Dari said with a smile. “It’s crazy in here tonight.”

She made an effort to ignore her curiously overwhelming chemical reaction to his friend. “It always is. What can I get for you today?”

“Meat loaf, of course.”

She looked at his guest … and nearly lost her breath.

God, did eyes come any browner?

And the way he was looking at her …

“Well, if he’s game, so am I. Meat loaf.”

She smiled, probably bigger than the situation called for.

“Meat loaf it is, then. Are you sticking with the coffee? Or would you like to add something else?”

“Milk,” Dari said. “A nice, big cold glass.”

“Make that two.”

“You got it.”

She turned from the table feeling something other than nausea stir her stomach. It was a welcome change. Not overly so—while she wasn’t and had never really been involved with Dustin, she wasn’t shopping either—but nice nonetheless. It had been a long time while since she’d felt anything other than expecting.

“I hate you,” Tiffany said as they passed again.

“I love you,” she said back and then disappeared into the kitchen.

She leaned briefly against the wall inside, savoring the very female feelings while she could. She knew better than anyone that she’d soon have to nip them in the bud.

“You all right?” Mel asked after seeing her face. “You look a little flushed.”

“What? Oh, yes. I’m fine. It’s just hot in here.”

How long had it been since she’d experienced that unmistakable spark of attraction? Long enough for her to have forgotten what it felt like. Even though she knew exactly how long: since before her mother fell ill a year and a half ago.

She briefly closed her eyes, willing the sudden cold away.

How alive it made her feel, that spark of shared attraction. Hot summer sunshine seemed to course through her veins even though it was a chilly and rainy November day. And twenty pounds at least had been lifted from her feet.

“It’s not like you to waste time daydreaming,” Trudy said as she passed with a mop.

Geneva blinked.

No, it wasn’t like her.

And like that, the moment to nip the sexy sensations had arrived. Time to return to the real world where sexy strangers didn’t exist.

Damn.

2

“I KNOW YOU SAID you don’t plan to be in town long, but about that favor I wanted to ask …” Dari said.

Mace found himself following the pretty waitress with his eyes. She was all curly light brown hair, tanned skin and long legs, even in the unattractive white orthopedic shoes she wore.

He bet her thighs were toned and strong and could grip his hips like nobody’s business.

And that mouth …

“Hmm?”

He looked to find Dari grinning at him.

“Thought you weren’t interested in dating,” his friend said, indicating the waitress.

“I’m not.” He sipped his coffee, which was surprisingly good for diner fare. “I might, however, be interested in getting laid.”

Dari howled with laughter. “I stand corrected.”

“You’re sitting, but I get your point.” He put his cup down. His words were meant as a joke, but just barely. The waitress did stir something in him he hadn’t felt in a while. And while it was physical, there was more to it. There was a genuine quality to her smile, a kindness. “Are you really asking for a favor already? I’ve been in town, what?” He looked at his watch. “Five minutes?”

“I meant to ask you the first minute.”

Dari’s expression, more than his words, got Mace’s attention. It wasn’t like his friend to exaggerate. Whatever he was going to ask was important.

In his career in the military, Mace had come to understand how important it was to immediately recognize who he could count on … and, more importantly, who he couldn’t.

Going back to their teenage years, he’d always been able to depend on Dari.

He grimaced, wishing his friendship skills extended to relationships. Maybe he would have had better luck.

His hand instantly went to his cell phone where another voice mail waited from Janine. He didn’t expect it to be much different from the first one.

“Shoot,” he encouraged now.

“Okay. I’ve given you a brief rundown on how quickly Lazarus has grown in such a short time. And with that, comes growing pains. Most notably, we’re attracting some high-profile contracts I’m sometimes afraid we’re not prepared for yet. This one falls solidly into that category.” He paused. “There’s an ex-general, now a political radio pundit, coming into town the day after tomorrow for a three-day stay, including two public rallies. We’ve been hired to handle security for the public end of his schedule—transportation, et cetera—in cooperation with his personnel and local law enforcement. While I’m sure we can handle it, well, it would be stupid not to utilize our assets. And I see you as a definite asset in this case, what with your background and your connections.”

He nodded. “Go on.”

“Well, in a nutshell, I was wondering if you would consider sitting in as co-lead on this one?”

Mace sat back, carefully considering what Dari was saying … and not saying. His friend went on to share some additional details, such as the name of the dignitary. He was familiar with the guy. Hell, nearly everyone in the western hemisphere was familiar with him, if only because of his skill at gaining attention, usually by exhibiting offensive behavior.

“Okay, I get the military connections and the growing pains. But this job sounds pretty run-of-the-mill, tooling around with a political celebrity. What is it you’re not telling me?” Mace asked.

“There have been threats.”

“Threats.”

“Yes. Specific to his visit here.”

For the past few years, Mace’s military career focus had been counter-terrorism, so this was right up his alley. But …

“And …?” he led.

Dari chuckled and pointed a finger at him. “Never could get anything by you. Truth is, these threats are serious enough to concern his security personnel and serious enough to concern me.” He checked the cell phone he had on the table next to his wrist. “And … well, if I’m hoping that by pulling you in on this job, it’ll convince you to sign on with us when your tour’s over in six months … that’s between me and the wall.”

Mace considered him.

Dari grinned. “Did I mention that it won’t hurt business to have a Navy Cross recipient on board with us? No? Well, then there’s that.”

He grimaced at the reminder.

“By the way, Megan and I are looking forward to attending the ceremony Saturday.”

“You’re going?”

“Of course, I’m going. My ass is part of the reason you’re getting the sucker. What makes you think I wouldn’t be there?”

He took a deep breath.

“I plan to sit up front and center.”

“Refill, gentlemen?” a knockout blonde smiled at him suggestively as she held up a coffeepot.

Mace found himself looking for the pretty brunette even as he and Dari held up their cups. The waitress topped them off then hovered for a moment before finally moving away.

“You didn’t even look at her,” Dari said.

“Sure I did. She’s too young and too …”

“Eager?”

“That, too.”

They shared a laugh.

“Okay,” he said.

“Okay what?”

“Okay, I’ll do it. Where do you want me when?” He laughed and looked around the diner again.

There she was.

He found himself relaxing in to the booth as the waitress who’d garnered his attention came through the kitchen door looking even more attractive.

She brought their meals quickly despite the busyness of the place. They ate while Dari outlined the specifics of the assignment.

This beat the hell out of staring at the cracks in his motel room ceiling, feeling guilty about not spending more time at his parents’ any day.

And it made him forget about those shadow hands pressing against his neck for a much-needed while.

Mace’s gaze followed their waitress where she bussed the table next to theirs, even as another couple moved to occupy it. She was calmly efficient and attentive, smiling warmly despite the obvious crowdedness of the diner as she took their drink orders.

He couldn’t help noticing that there was a guy about his age seated at the counter who kept trying to get her attention for more than a second at a time … and that she did everything politely possible to avoid giving it to him.

She briefly glanced in his direction and their gazes met, inspiring something a little more than respect in his response to her.

He smiled and she returned it before she moved on to another table then went back into the kitchen.

Oh, he’d bet she was the type who’d be up for anything, any time. A challenge, a new experience, a new restaurant, it wouldn’t matter; she’d be in … and make it doubly worth it just by being there.

“Okay, I’d better get moving,” Dari said, edging from the booth. “Megan’s already at The Barracks.” He stood, pocketing his cell phone. “Thanks for agreeing to come in on this job for me, Mace. You have no idea how much of a relief it will be having you aboard.”

“You haven’t seen what I charge for babysitting a political big mouth yet.”

“Whatever it is, I’m sure you’ll be more than worth it.” He peeled off a couple bills to pay for his half of the meal. “Sure you won’t change your mind and join us for a drink?”

“I’d rather step directly into enemy fire.”

“I believe you would.” They shook hands and agreed to meet at Lazarus the following morning, then Dari left.

Mace sipped on his coffee and watched his friend through the front window of the diner, even as more customers approached.

He glanced around. The place was more than busy, it bordered on chaotic. At different times, he was aware of a woman swearing in the kitchen, a couple of tables complaining about the lateness of their meals and from what he could tell, there wasn’t a busboy to be found.

His cell phone vibrated in his pocket. He fished it out to find Janine’s name highlighted again. He sat and watched the screen blink until her call finally rolled over to voice mail.

Why was she being so persistent?

He couldn’t even begin to guess. So he didn’t try.

He slid the cell back into his pocket without checking the message.

“Dessert?” the pretty waitress asked.

He looked up at her. Despite everything, she managed to treat him as if he was her only customer, where the other waitress practically shooed people from the tables the instant they took their last bite.

“Trudy’s chocolate marshmallow pie is the house specialty.”

He took her in, noticing how the world seemed to rush around her in a blur while she stood perfectly still.

Of course, that could be just him.

The vintage jukebox in the corner. Definitely the jukebox. He’d play a song—an old one—pull her into his arms … lean her against the machine and work his hand up her skirt to find out just how sweet those thighs and what lay between them were … watch her smile melt into a sexy sigh.

“Maybe later,” he said.

He didn’t detect any flicker of disappointment that he wasn’t leaving to free up the table for another diner.

“And only if you promise to have a piece with me. It’ll be my price for having leant a hand …”

THREE HOURS LATER, Geneva was even more impressed with Mace Harrison than when he had first slid from the booth, introduced himself, then asked for an apron and bussing tub.

What guy did that?

None that she knew of.

And certainly not a complete stranger. She’d verified he was new in town since none of the staff nor Trudy could remember seeing him in there before, much less knew him.

And certainly not a completely hot stranger who made her feel like a wanted woman instead of the host of other titles to which she’d grown accustomed lately.

Refusing his generous offer hadn’t even entered her mind. Truth was, they were busier than she could ever remember being and Trudy’s usually easily dismissed sounds of dismay had begun turning into very real ones.

Mace had been as good as gold, a natural as Mel had noted, his sheer size and impressive presence not interfering with his assisting without being asked, and doing at least two of the jobs for which they were short staffed, lightening the load for the rest of them.

Was he military? She guessed yes. And that normally would have counted as a strike against him in her personal notebook, considering her experience with members of the armed forces.

But what had happened tonight was anything but normal.

And what was happening to her fell solidly into the same category.

Finally, one by one, satisfied customers began to ease to a workable trickle, and then the staff began to leave, including Trudy herself, who begged off with a migraine. Thankfully, Dustin had given up trying to corner her an hour ago and left, as well. Only Mel remained. But seeing as closing time was in ten minutes, he had only one order to finish up and she knew he’d be leaving, too, as he always did to get home quickly to his wife and family.

Now, as Mace stood spraying dishes to go into the washer, she couldn’t help staring at his hands. He’d rolled up the sleeves of his crisp white shirt while the full-body white apron covered the front from his chest down to his knees. If his feet hurt in his dress shoes, she couldn’t tell, even though he’d been on his feet all night.

Her own dogs were barking loudly and she wore the equivalent of gym shoes.

Geneva absently wrapped up the little that remained of the meat loaf and mashed potatoes, not realizing she was still staring at Mace until he asked, “Did I spill something?”

She met his gaze, reading the telltale grin there, then smiled herself. “Sorry. It’s been a long day.”

Tiffany had left in a huff about the same time Dustin had, apparently disappointed that her obvious flirting wasn’t gaining her any more attention from the unhired help than Mel got.

Actually, Geneva was pretty sure she’d gotten less.

Interesting. Not many men were capable of refusing the pretty blonde’s charms at normal speed, much less when she amped them up. And she’d definitely set her sights on Mace.

A few minutes later, Mel removed his apron and grabbed his jacket. “Well, it’s that time again, kids.”

Geneva held up the paper bag she’d readied for him and he took it, giving her a loud kiss on the cheek.

“Thanks, doll. See you on the morrow.”

“Tell Alice hi.”

“Will do. ‘Night.”

“‘Night.”

And just like that it was only her and Mace.

Well, and three people at two tables in the other room.

He finished up the dishes while she closed the last of the garbage bags then washed her hands.

“How about that pie?” he asked.

“How about it? Take a seat at the counter. I’ll join you in a minute.”

“Deal.”

She watched as he did as suggested, trying hard not to stare at his tight rear end and failing.

All right, she could be forgiven this once, right? For being selfish? For being needy?

For being a woman?

She went about wrapping up and putting away a few other items. It had been a long day. Still, strangely she didn’t feel tired.

She peeked around the window that opened up into the dining area, catching Mace’s gaze.

“Be right there,” she said.

“Take your time.”

She ducked back away and caught her breath.

Okay, she could do this. All she had to do was serve him pie and coffee and tell him she was pregnant. That was sure to douse whatever spark had ignited between them but quick.

Only she was hoping it wouldn’t …

3

MACE CLEANED UP after the last of the customers, then fed change into the vintage jukebox that had remained pretty much silent all night, selecting a few ‘50s classics before sitting back down at the counter. He glanced at his watch. Twenty minutes had passed since Geneva had said she’d be right there. He’d noticed an employees’ locker room off the kitchen and guessed she’d taken advantage of it. He realized he was still wearing the borrowed apron and took it off, laying it on the stool next to him.

The past few hours had passed in a welcome flurry of activity. The best decision he’d made was to trade his night of motel sitting for lending a hand at the busy diner. He’d never done very well left with too much time on his hands. And even he could jog only so long before his muscles protested.

Bussing tables and doing dishes and occasionally filling coffee cups had given him something productive to do. And feeling like a part of a team hadn’t hurt.

If Geneva’s gratefully surprised and sinfully sexy smile every now and again had anything to do with his sense of satisfaction, he wasn’t copping to it.

“Sorry,” she said, finally coming out of the kitchen. “I just wanted to finish a few things up.”

He blinked. She still wore the same gray uniform and ruffled white apron, but she looked … different somehow. Refreshed. And hotter than hell.

She put down something in a bag and then moved to the pie case while he rounded the other side of the counter.

“Coffee?” he asked, holding up a pot.

“I’d love a cup of decaf.”

“One decaf coming up.”

He poured two cups and placed them on the counter while she took not one, but four different pie plates out of the display case. Each held at least two pieces. She reached into the fridge and pulled out a can of whipped cream, placing it next to them.

He sat down and she took the stool beside him.

He was abnormally taken with the can of whipped cream; the thought of licking a line of it off her skin from collarbone to toes, stopping for longer stays along the way that seemed particularly tempting.

He wondered what she’d say if he suggested it …

“I figured since you wouldn’t let Trudy pay you, you’re entitled to as much pie as you want.” She handed him a fork.

“Part of the deal was that you join me.”

She held up her own fork.

He chuckled, watching as she dug into what he guessed was the chocolate marshmallow one. Damn, but she had a sexy mouth. What made it even sexier still was that she didn’t appear the least bit aware of the effect she was having on him.

“So, tell me,” she said around a bite, “are you from around these parts, soldier?”

He chose the blueberry. “In a manner of speaking, yes.”

“Dubious answer to a yes or no question.”

To his surprise, he found himself explaining his being a military brat and staying with his grandfather as a teen. Even more surprising was the casual way in which he did so. He wasn’t usually given to sharing information with anyone. But she made it easy, her face open, her interest unselfish.

There was something strangely … intimate about sitting, just the two of them, in an empty retro diner, ‘50s music playing on a jukebox, the street beyond the front windows quiet and dark.

Even as they talked, he watched her eat, something he found strangely erotic. He couldn’t remember enjoying watching a woman eat. Then again, he could barely recall a woman eating in his presence, unless she was a colleague or a friend.

But watching Geneva savor the blueberry pie didn’t qualify as either.

“Which branch?” she asked after he’d fallen silent for a moment, reflecting on what he’d said; reflecting on her.

“What?”

“Which branch did you choose?”

“Marines.”

“Same as your father?”

He paused. “No.”

Curious, he’d forgotten having chosen a different path than his parent.

Funny how things worked out.

“I can relate.” She got up. “I could go for a glass of milk. How about you?”

Surprisingly, the idea appealed to him. “Sure.”

She poured them two large glasses then sat down again.

“I take it that means you’re from around here in a manner of speaking, as well?” he asked.

She nodded, then licked a milk mustache from her upper lip. Mace felt his pants tighten at the innocent move.

“I followed … someone here five years ago. I’ve been looking for a way out ever since.”

“He still around?”

She smiled. “Who said it was a guy?”

“I did.”

Her smile widened. “No, he was history two months in.”

For reasons he couldn’t be sure of, he was glad that not only was the guy part of her past, but she didn’t seem to have a problem with leaving him there. “Where are you from originally?”

“Ohio. Toledo. Whipped cream?”

She shook the can and then held it above the pies.

Mace felt the urge to reposition the tip above her lips so he might kiss it from them.

“Sure,” he said instead.

“Tell me when …”

She began spraying …

And spraying …

Covering what remained in all of the pie pans.

“When?” she asked.

“Huh?”

She stopped spraying and laughed. The sound was deep and husky … and made him want to kiss her all the more.

“I was waiting for you tell me when.”

He chuckled and switched his attention to the cherry pie, taking an extra-big bite to assuage the growing desire to run his fingers up her knee, which was left nicely bare by her skirt.

“So tell me about the other guy,” he said.

She held a hand under her cream-dripping fork as she moved it toward his mouth. “What guy?”

He began to refuse the bite of chocolate marshmallow pie, or rather her offering of it, then did the opposite by opening his mouth instead.

“The one at the counter panting after you all night,” he said with his mouth half full.

“Dustin? Dustin doesn’t pant. He moons.” The smile eased from her face and she suddenly avoided his gaze.

Then she appeared to make her mind up about something and her expression opened up again.

She brushed her hands together then went to the register, taking out a handful of change. The jukebox had gone silent while they talked.

“Any requests?”

“B-17.”

She laughed.

He liked that she got the reference.

“Who sang that song?” she asked. “No, wait … don’t tell me. I’ll get it.”

“I’d tell you if I knew. Female, I know that.”

“Olivia Newton-John.”

“Yeah … yeah. I think you’re right.”

She made her selections then came to sit down again. “I know I’m right. B-17 is the song.”

They shared a laugh as she picked up her fork again.

God, but he couldn’t remember a time he’d enjoyed an evening more. Her easygoing demeanor, sexy smile and revitalizing openness made Geneva great company.

And, he hoped, great in bed.

“So, does it always get that insane in this place?” he asked.

“You’d be surprised by how popular Meat loaf Mondays are.” She smiled and licked her fork. “It’s usually pretty busy all the time, but right now the flu is knocking down a few more staff than usual.” She sipped her milk, reminding him of a kitten lapping cream. “Well, that and blind dates.”

“Excuse me?”

“One of the missing waitresses had a blind date, I guess. At least that’s the rumor.” She toyed with a bit of crust. “I hope it’s not true or Trudy might fire her.”

“Can she afford to?”

“Afford to or not, she will. Trudy’s funny that way. You could break every glass in the place, but if you’re honest and here on time, she’ll keep you on.”

“I’m thinking honesty is important in a business of this nature.”

“Yeah.” The song changed from an upbeat to a slow tune on the jukebox. “So how long are you in town?”

“A week.”

The reminder of why he was back here was enough to loosen the fit of his pants a bit, but not much.

“You staying with family?”

He shook his head. “Nah. Bunking at the motel on University. You?”

“I live here.”

He chuckled. “Right. Sorry.”

“My mom and I did live together for a while, though …”

Something in her voice captured his attention.

She cleared her throat. “She passed a little over two months ago.”

“I’m sorry to hear it.” Damn. Talk about a pants-loosening change in conversation.

“Thanks. She was sick for a long time. Lymphoma. She was diagnosed shortly after she moved here.”

He didn’t know what to say, so he said nothing.

They ate in silence for a while.

Then she leaned back and groaned. “God, I can’t believe I ate so much of this. I feel like I’m going to burst.”

Mace looked at where they’d nearly polished off all four pies. “I can’t believe it, either. Although I think I have a ways to go before I reach bursting stage.”

She smiled. “I may have room for a bite or two more.”

Geneva Davis was unlike any woman he’d met in a good long while. By now, most of the women he usually dated would have checked their lipstick at least twice and made one run to the ladies’ room to check on the rest of their appearance.

Of course, he allowed that this wasn’t much like a date, either.

Still …

“Are you career?” she asked.

“Military? Nah. Six months to go.”

He found it interesting he’d answered in the negative. When had he made the decision not to sign up for another tour?

Just then, he realized. No matter what happened at Lazarus this week, he knew he didn’t want to exchange active duty for a desk job in Washington.

“Thank you,” he said.

“For what?”

“For asking me that. I didn’t know what my answer would be until you did.”

“You were considering staying longer?”

“I was.”

“But not anymore.”

He took in her pretty face. “Not anymore.”

His cell phone vibrated at the same time hers rang.

They laughed. Mace took his out of his pocket even as she consulted hers.

Janine.

Damn.

He refused the late-hour call and put the cell back into his pocket, watching as she pretty much did the same thing.

Then she began toying with the crust again.

“Someone you don’t want to hear from?” he asked.

She nodded. “You?”

“Yeah.”

Then, surprisingly, he found himself telling her all about Janine and what had gone down eight months earlier.

He couldn’t be sure how long he’d talked, or exactly how much he’d revealed, but she’d patiently listened, nodding when the situation called for it, making encouraging sounds when he needed them.

“So … just to be sure I’m following you,” she said once he finally stopped talking and teetered on the verge of regret for having said too much. “She not only left you for someone else because you were gone too long … She was messing around with him while you were still a couple, even introducing him as a friend to you during your last leave and including him in things you did together…. And now that you’re back, she wants to see you again?”

He grimaced. “That would be the long and the short of it, yes.”

“How do you feel about that?”

He raised his brows and leaned back. “I don’t know.”

And he didn’t. Not really.

He did know he didn’t want to get involved with her again.

She fell silent.

“And your phone call?” he asked.

She blinked up at him. “Huh?”

He repeated the question.

“Oh. Dustin.”

“Ah. The panter.”

“The mooner.” She rested her chin in her hand, her elbow propped against the counter. “Or, as the rest of the diner staff like to call him, my baby daddy.”

She tilted her head slightly to look at him as if waiting for his response.

“Oh. You have a child together.”

“No. Not yet.”

He squinted at her. “Now I’m not sure I’m following you.”

She looked away as if weighing whether or not to continue, then met his gaze fully, her chin coming up a tad higher than before. “I’m pregnant … and he’s the father….”

4

THERE. SSHE’D said it.

Geneva paid an inordinate amount of attention to the crust she was pushing in and out of the whipped cream that remained in the chocolate marshmallow pie pan. By rights, she should have said something much sooner. The minute they’d sat down at the counter. Maybe even found a way to casually mention it early on. Something along the lines of, “Gee, I can’t remember my feet ever hurting this badly when I wasn’t pregnant,” or “Boy, if I wasn’t pregnant, I’d take you back to my place and do all the naughty things I see playing out behind your sexy eyes.”

She couldn’t be sure why she’d been hesitant to say anything.

Yes, she could; she knew exactly why she hadn’t shared the news: because for that short time, she’d enjoyed being just her. Just a single woman enjoying flirting with a hot, single man.

“You’re … pregnant?”

The two words broke through her reverie. She tried to decide whether the emotion behind them was more of shock or regret, but all she seemed capable of concentrating on was now that the proverbial cat was out of the bag, there was no getting it back in. You couldn’t exactly retract something like that. Pretend you were joking.

And why would she? For a frivolous, albeit surely hot night between the sheets with a handsome stranger?

Wasn’t that how she’d ended up as a single, expectant mother in the first place?

She grimaced and found herself eating the crust, even though she hadn’t intended to.

Comparing what had happened between her and Dustin two months ago and … well, tonight, was like saying the satin of a wedding dress and the satin that lined a coffin were the same.

She drank the rest of her milk to help wash the crumbs down.

“Yes,” she said simply.

Mace sat back as if stepping out of the path of a speeding truck. Not that she could blame him. Essentially, that’s what she was, wasn’t she?

Not that she viewed her baby in that light. While unexpected, she’d instantly grown attached to the idea of having a child growing within her. Her son or daughter. And meeting him or her topped the list of things she most looked forward to.

When it came to the opposite sex seeing her as dating material, however … well, she could understand how that would come as a major deterrent.

Was there such a thing as a pregnant-woman fetish?

She nearly laughed at the ridiculous thought.

What man in his right mind would want to make love to a woman already pregnant with another man’s child.

“So, you two were … are a couple?”

She blinked to look at him. “Dustin and I? No. We’ve always been just friends.”

He nodded slowly but she could tell he was not only not following her, he was so far behind he couldn’t make her out in the distance.

She propped her chin in her hand and tried to explain. Not that the confusing story was all that clear to her.

Taking care of her mother while her illness had slowly ultimately robbed her of the tiniest breath had hollowed Geneva out until sometimes it seemed only her beating, hurting heart remained. Her friends and everyone at the diner had been a tremendous source of support, but only she knew how deep her pain went. How watching her mom die by millimeters had profoundly impacted her.

Yes, she could have put her mom in a hospice. But she’d wanted to spend every moment with her that she could. And the only way she could work out how to do that was by having Hospice come to them at her apartment.

Then, suddenly, her mother was gone.

It still seemed … strange, somehow. The shock she’d felt at not having her mother there anymore. She’d been moving toward that end agonizing moment by agonizing moment, yet the moment she was finally released, Geneva hadn’t wanted to let her go.

And Dustin had been there to hold on to instead.

“We met when I first started taking graphic design years ago at University of Colorado, Colorado Springs,” she offered. “We’d always been friends and had never even considered dating,” she said quietly. “And I know he doesn’t want anything more now. Not really. He’s projecting what he thinks traditionally should happen on to our untraditional circumstances. Trying to do what’s right.”

She looked to find Mace still nodding … and still somewhat behind her.

Finally, he smiled awkwardly and shook his head. “I’m sorry. My response probably falls just shy of rude … or is maybe full-out rude. It’s just that I’m having a hard time wrapping my head around the fact that you’re pregnant.”

She smiled. “Stick around. It won’t be hard in a month or so when I start showing.”

She caught herself. Of course, he wouldn’t be around in a month or so. He’d be off somewhere on his final six-month deployment. And even if he wasn’t, there was no chance he’d stick around anyway.

She squinted at him. Was there?

Behind him, the jukebox clicked on B-17.

They both laughed.

“Okay,” he said. “Time for me to stop acting like an idiot and accept the fact that I misread the signs.”

“Signs?”

His gaze moved over her face and she felt herself blush. “Yes. The regular girl-guy stuff.”

She smiled. “You didn’t misread anything. I’m pregnant, not dead, Mace.”

He wore that “speeding truck coming toward him” look again.

She reached over and touched his arm. “Sorry. You’re obviously having a hard time with this. So why don’t we just keep this simple.” She held out her hand. “Hi, I’m Geneva Davis and I’m pregnant. Would you like to be friends?”

He stared at her hand, then her face, then her hand again. He slowly took it. “I’d love to be friends, Geneva Davis.”

FRIENDS …

A good ten hours had passed since his late-night conversation with Geneva in the deserted diner, the jukebox playing in the background, whipped cream, pie plates and glasses of milk littering the counter in front of them, and all he could think of was, despite everything she told him, he wanted to be much more than friends.

“Sir?”

Mace looked at Jonathon Reece, one of Lazarus’s personnel.

“Darius would like to speak with you.” He held out a cell.

He took the phone. “Thanks.”

He stepped away from the table in the downtown Denver hotel conference room. He’d been in there for an hour going over the sketchy schedule of the visiting dignitary with Lazarus reps and sheriff’s deputies, waiting for Darius to arrive.

“Hey,” he said into the phone.

“Hey, yourself. Look, I got called in on an urgent matter back at the office. Would you mind taking the lead?”

Mace glanced at the ten Lazarus reps, nine men and one woman, who were looking expectantly at him.

“I’m afraid it looks like it would be for the duration. I’ve got a kidnapping/ransom case out of L.A. that just came in….” Darius continued.

Mace grimaced. Not because he wasn’t up for the job. But because he would only have today to build up a rapport with the personnel he would be overseeing.

He took in Reece standing military tall a short ways away.

“I’d rather not. Isn’t there someone else you trust? How about Reece?”

“He’s good, but I need someone with more experience. And I’m not talking security. One of Norman’s reps will be there in an hour. He’ll give you a full rundown of what we’re looking at threat-wise. And the sheriff’s office already has several routes mapped out.”

“I’ve seen them.”

“Good.” Dari said something to someone on his end of the line. “I really wouldn’t ask this of you unless it was absolutely necessary, Mace. I’d owe you big-time.”

“Last check, your debt is already considerable.”

Dari chuckled. “Got me there. Tell you what, I’ll name my firstborn after you …”

Mace held the phone to his ear even after he’d signed off, the mention of children bringing Geneva back to mind.

Why, oh why, did she have to be pregnant?

He handed Reece his cell, took out his own and told the crew to take fifteen.

He’d gotten her number last night, but honestly hadn’t intended to use it.

Why then was he running his thumb over the cell pad, the mere thought of hearing her voice making his pulse run faster?

The room emptied out and he sat on the edge of the conference table. He pressed the button to illuminate the cell screen only to find another voice-mail message from Janine.

He sighed and rubbed his face. At his motel, he’d finally retrieved her messages. Five all told. The first two had been quietly nice. The next two longer narratives—the last one, she’d simply said she really needed to talk to him.

He didn’t like the sound of that. And, yes, he admitted, a part of him was afraid of how he’d react when he finally saw her, even though he knew, with everything he was, that he wanted nothing to do with her.

“Frank and I broke up … Well, I broke up with him … Almost immediately after you left for your last tour … Look, Mace, I know I have no right to ask you this, but it’s important I talk to you … In person … Apologize …”

But it wasn’t that message so much as the next one that proved the cause for concern:

“I’ve missed you …” A small, nervous laugh. “You know how hard that is for me to say, don’t you? Me? Who’s never wrong about anything.” A pause then, “But I was wrong about this. Wrong about you. I should never have done what I had. You didn’t deserve it. We didn’t deserve it. I really need to see you. Please …”

It had been damn near impossible to get to sleep after that one. He hadn’t heard a word from her in months. Then the minute he gets back into town, he’s bombarded with calls.

He honestly didn’t know what to do.

He caught himself running his thumb over the cell pad again, Geneva’s name and number highlighted in his address book.

He smiled.

Yes, he did. He knew exactly what to do …

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