Navy Brat. Debbie Macomber

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shyly.

      Brand looked down on the slender young woman at his side and read her confusion and her regret. The desire to pull her close was so strong that it was nearly impossible to ignore.

      “I’m sorry the navy hurt you.”

      “It didn’t. Not as much as I led you to believe. I just want to be on the safe side. For the first time in my life I have a real home with real furniture that I purchased without thinking about how well it would travel.” She hesitated and smiled. “I don’t worry about being transferred every other year, and—” She hesitated again and shook her head as though to suggest he wouldn’t understand. “I apologize if I wounded your ego. You’re really very nice.”

      “A kiss would go a long way toward repairing the damage.” Brand couldn’t believe he’d suggested that, but what the hell. Why not?

      “A kiss?”

      Brand nearly laughed out loud at the shocked look that came over her features. It was downright comical, as if she’d never been kissed before, or at least it had been a good long while. Not taking the time to decide which it was, he cradled her face between his large hands.

      Her mouth was moist and parted, welcoming. Her eyes weren’t. They were filled with doubts, but he chose to ignore her unspoken questions, fearing that if he took the time to reassure her he’d talk himself out of kissing her.

      Brand wanted this kiss.

      If Erin had questions, he was experiencing a few of his own. She was his friend’s daughter, and he was risking Casey’s wrath with this little game. But none of that seemed to matter. What did concern him was the woman staring boldly up at him.

      Tenderness filled him. A strange tenderness, one he didn’t fully understand or recognize. Slowly he lowered his mouth to hers. He felt her go tense with anticipation as their lips clung.

      She was soft, warm and incredibly sweet. He opened his mouth a little more, slanting his lips over hers as he plowed his fingers through her thick hair.

      Her first response was tentative, as if she’d been caught unprepared, but then she sighed and sagged against him. She flattened her hands over his chest, then flexed her fingers, her long nails scraping his sweater.

      Gradually she opened to him, like a hothouse flower blossoming in his arms. Yet it was she who broke the contact. Her eyes were wide and soft as she stared up at him. A feeling of surprise and tenderness and need washed through him.

      “I…was just thinking,” she said in a lacy whisper.

      Just now, thinking could be dangerous. Brand knew that from experience. He silenced her with a kiss that was so thorough it left them both trembling in its aftermath.

      Once again, Erin was clinging to him, her hands gripping the V of his sweater as if she needed to hold on to something in order to remain upright.

      “The rules you have about dating military men?” he asked, rubbing his open mouth over her honeyed lips. “How about altering them?”

      “Altering them?” she echoed slowly, her eyes closed.

      He kissed her again for good measure. “Make it a guideline instead,” he suggested.

      Chapter Two

      As an adult, Erin had made several decisions about how she intended to live her life. She followed the Golden Rule, and she never used her credit cards if she couldn’t pay off the balance the following month.

      And she didn’t date men in the military.

      Her life wasn’t encumbered with a lot of restrictions. Everything that was important and necessary was wrapped up in these relatively simple rules.

      Then why, she asked herself, had she agreed to have dinner with Brand Davis? Lieutenant Davis, J.G., she reminded herself disparagingly.

      “Why?” she repeated aloud, stacking papers against the edge of her desk with enough force to bend them in half.

      “Heavens, don’t ask me,” Aimee answered, grinning impishly. After a day spent interviewing job applicants, talking aloud to oneself was an accepted form of behavior.

      “I’m supposed to meet him tonight, you know,” Erin said in a low, thought-filled voice. If there had been an easy way out of this, she’d have grabbed it.

      If only Brand hadn’t kissed her. No one had ever told her kissing could be so…so pleasant. First her knees had gone weak, and then her formidable will of iron had melted and pooled at her feet. Before she’d even realized what she was doing, she’d mindlessly walked into Brand’s trap. It was just like a navy man to zero in on her weakest point and attack.

      Rolling her antique oak chair away from her desk, Aimee relaxed against its rail back and angled her head to one side as she studied Erin. “Are you still lamenting the fact you agreed to have dinner with that gorgeous hunk? Honey, trust me in this, you should be counting your blessings.”

      “He’s military.”

      “I know.” Aimee rotated a pen between her hands as she gazed dreamily into the distance. A contented look stole over her features as she released a long-drawn-out sigh. “I can just picture him in a uniform, standing at attention. Why, it’s enough to make my heart go pitter-patter.”

      Erin refused to look at her friend. If Aimee wanted Brand, she was welcome to him. Of course, her friend wasn’t truly interested, since she was already married to Steve and had been for a decade. “If I could think of a plausible excuse to get out of this, I would.”

      “You’ve got to be kidding.”

      She wasn’t. “You have dinner with him.”

      Aimee shook her head eagerly. “Trust me, if I were five years younger I’d take you up on that.”

      Since Aimee’s marriage was going through some rocky times, Erin didn’t think it was necessary to remind her friend that dating wasn’t something that should interest her.

      “Relax, would you?” Aimee admonished her.

      “I can’t.” Erin tucked her stapler and several pens neatly inside her desk drawer. “As far as I’m concerned, this evening is going to be a total waste of time.” She could be doing something important, like…like laundry or answering mail. It was just her luck that Brand had suggested Wednesday night. Tuesday was the first class for the new session for the Women In Transition course. Thursday night was the second session. Naturally, Brand had chosen to ask her out the one night of the week when she was free.

      “You’re so tense,” Aimee chastised. “You might as well be walking around in a suit of armor.”

      “I’ll be okay,” Erin said, not listening to her fellow worker. She stood and planted her hands against the side of her desk before sighing heavily. “This is what I’m going to do. I’ll meet him just the way we arranged.”

      “That’s a good start,” Aimee teased.

      “We’ll find a restaurant, and I’ll order right away,

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