Last Virgin In California. Maureen Child
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“Don’t sound so surprised,” she quipped. “Even a blind squirrel finds an acorn once in a while.”
“Thanks,” he said dryly.
“So we’re agreed then?”
“On?”
“On the fact that there’s going to be no more kissing between us.”
He nodded shortly. “Yeah, we’re agreed.”
“Okay then.”
“Fine.”
“Fine.” She looked up at him, then shifted her gaze to the house behind her. “I guess I’d better go inside.”
“Yeah, you probably should,” he said.
She was freezing on the outside and bubbling hot on the inside. It just didn’t seem fair. But then, this was probably just punishment for allowing herself to get so turned on in the first place.
After all, she should know better. She’d long ago accepted her unofficial title of the Last Virgin in California.
She sat down on the edge of the low wall, swung her legs over and stood up in the middle of her father’s rose bushes. A stray thorn or two tugged at the folds of her sweater, but she ignored them.
“I’ll see you tomorrow?”
He took a step back from the wall. “I’ll be here.”
“All right then. Good night.” Lilah turned, paused, then looked over her shoulder at him. In the indistinct wash of moonlight, with the fog stretching out behind him, he looked impossibly gorgeous and as unreachable as the stars overhead. So she couldn’t resist saying, “Just for the record, you’re a great kisser.”
He scowled at her and she headed for the house. She could feel Kevin’s gaze locked on her. Heat blasted through her as surely as if she’d been standing with her back to a roaring fire. It was all she could do not to shiver again.
She was in some serious trouble, here.
So it was a good thing she didn’t hear Kevin mutter thickly, “You’re not a bad kisser yourself.”
One week.
She’d only been on base one lousy week and Kevin’s world was pretty much shot to hell. He wasn’t even getting any sleep. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw her face, heard her voice, listened to the faint sound of those blasted bells that were as much a part of her as that long blond hair.
Scowling fiercely enough to keep all but the bravest souls at arm’s length, Kevin stepped into the PX. He nodded to the cashier, then walked straight to the back of the room. He opened the refrigerator door, pulled a soda off the shelf and turned to leave.
“Hello. Gunnery Sergeant Rogan, isn’t it?”
He froze, looked to his right and managed to give the older woman striding up to him a tight smile. If not for Lilah, Frances Holden wouldn’t have known him from Adam. But because the Colonel’s daughter had insisted on touring the child-care facility on base, he was now acquainted with the gray-haired woman in charge of the place.
She had a no-nonsense walk, a twinkle in her eyes and a short, square body that the base children seemed to love to cuddle up to.
“Ma’am,” he said, gripping the neck of his soda bottle in one tight fist, “it’s good to see you again.”
She laughed, a booming sound that he swore rattled some of the glassware on the nearby shelves. “Liar.” She held out her right hand and he took it in a firm grip. When she let him go again, she said, “Right now you’re thinking, ‘what does this old bag want and how long will it take.’”
“No, ma’am,” he argued quickly, though he was wondering if the nursery school teacher did a little mind reading on the side.
“I won’t keep you but a minute,” she said, lifting one hand to wave away his objections. “When I saw you, I just had to say something.”
“Ma’am?”
“The next time you see Lilah, will you thank her for me again?”
“Again?” he asked, before he could help himself.
“Oh, yes,” she said. “I thanked her once, but it just isn’t enough, though she’ll argue with me on that point, I’m sure.”
Oh, he was pretty sure Lilah would argue with anyone about anything, but that wasn’t the point here, was it?
His grip tightened on the soda bottle until he wouldn’t have been surprised if the glass had shattered in his hand. Why was it women talked around something instead of simply spitting out what they wanted to say? Now a man would have stepped up to him, said what needed saying and been on his way.
Much simpler.
The woman in front of him was still talking and to dam up the flow of words, he held up a hand. When her voice trailed off, he asked one question. “What exactly are you thanking her for?”
The older woman blinked up at him. “She didn’t tell you? Isn’t that just like her? Such a sweet girl. The Colonel can be proud of that one, I’ll tell you. So thoughtful and she didn’t have to do it, frankly I don’t even know how she did it, though Lord knows—”
“Ma’am,” Kevin interrupted the flow again and smiled to take the sting out of his cutting her off. “Just what exactly did Lilah do?”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” she said, shaking her head, “didn’t I tell you? She went to a local children’s store and somehow convinced them to donate new winter jackets for the children. All of the children. Most of their parents are enlisted and don’t make much money.” The older woman beamed at him. “She really is a wonder, isn’t she?”
Before he could answer, Mrs. Holden was off, leaving him standing there wondering what else he didn’t know about Lilah Forrest.
Chapter Six
“Do you know I’ve never seen you out of that uniform?” Lilah said, giving him a quick look up and down while he stood on the front porch.
His eyebrows shot straight up and she realized just how that had sounded. And though she was intrigued by the notion, she had the feeling he was not.
“I meant,” she said, stepping out of the house and closing the door behind her, “I’ve never seen you in civvies.”
He took her arm and led her down the short flight of steps to the path leading to the driveway. “Yeah, well, I’m more comfortable in the uniform.”
Lilah shot him a look from the corner of her eye. She didn’t believe him one bit. She’d never met a Marine who didn’t wear civvies off the base if he could. A uniform always attracted attention and most Marines would rather blend in than stand out. So it wasn’t comfort Kevin was looking for, here.