Temptation Ridge. Robyn Carr
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“Really?” Luke asked, eyes widening slightly. The general was into a woman?
She leaned her elbow on the bar, her head against her hand. “You don’t mind a little company, do you?”
“Actually, I think I’m going to have to shove off…”
Then Jack was standing in front of them, obviously hearing that last comment. “I thought you were staying for dinner? Beer, Shelby?”
“Thanks,” she said. When the beer was delivered and Jack gone again, she said, “You were going to stay till I got here? That’s not very flattering.”
A little embarrassed, he said, “I guess I could manage dinner.”
“Don’t put yourself out,” she said. “I can find someone to have dinner with.”
“No, this’ll work.”
“I don’t come here every night, so I thought maybe we just missed each other. But I asked Jack—you haven’t been around for a beer at all. A couple of weeks, I think….”
Eleven days, he thought miserably.
“And you were going to make a break for it once I showed up. I hadn’t even considered you were avoiding me. Do I make you nervous or something?” she asked.
“Whew,” he answered, shaking his head. “I haven’t been out of the army long enough to get over that rank thing. Your uncle—”
“Isn’t anywhere in sight,” she said, cutting him off. “Is it just my uncle?”
“You’re a pretty girl, Shelby,” he said. “And you’re just a girl. Puts me on edge, yeah.”
“Well then, we’re even,” she said. He gave her a perplexed look and she said, “You’re a good-looking guy, obviously been around a lot more than I have, and you’re older. Scary.”
He laughed at her candidness. “There you go—like water on a grease fire. Let’s play it safe, huh? Now tell me about your day.”
“Nothing to tell. Besides, this is interesting. I’d like to know what’s going on here. So, it’s pretty much that I’m a lot younger than you are. Or you just don’t like me.” And then she blushed, which made him squirm. It obviously took guts for her to push on this issue. But she wanted to know. So he decided to tell her.
“You know what it is, Shelby,” he said. “You’re young and tender. A sweet young thing. I’m hell on sweet young things.”
She laughed at him. “I bet anything you usually find a way to get past all that.”
Well, she didn’t scare easy, Luke realized with some admiration. And here was what had him screwed up—it wasn’t just that he had taken one look at her and felt that familiar tug of lust. Sounded like maybe the same thing had happened to her. Except that she had feelings deep enough to fall into and drown, and his feelings were all superficial, physical. Once his lust had been satisfied, he wouldn’t have much left for her. She’d end up sorry. He had always been able to avoid things like this, but this one, she was real tough on the nerves. It was going to be torture, just holding back. And it could be suicide, giving up the fight.
“I just wish your Uncle Walt was a retired master sergeant,” he said.
Luke usually confined his prowling to a town or two over so when the affair had run its course, he didn’t keep bumping into the woman again and again. Or her uncle. Before crawling between the sheets, he’d always give them “the talk”: he didn’t fall in love; wasn’t interested in long-term deals or commitment. He had his reasons, serious and personal reasons, for believing that a serious relationship wasn’t possible for him.
He wondered how Shelby would take to “the talk.” Given her age, she would probably cry.
He had been attempting to give not touching her a try, but just sitting next to her, having a beer, smelling her sweet scent and looking into those large hazel eyes, it was increasingly apparent he was destined to fail. It was just a matter of time; maybe a matter of hours.
“Well, I admit, you’re not exactly what I have in mind, either. I was thinking around twenty-six, more hair, polo shirt, or maybe a sharp, crisp, white button-down,” she said, and then she grinned at him.
He was totally shocked. He’d spent all this time fighting the attraction and she had something else in mind anyway? “I’m too old for you, plain and simple,” he pointed out.
“Probably, but there don’t seem to be many single men around. You kind of stand out.”
“You should throw your net wider,” he suggested.
“Until I do, let’s not get ridiculous. It’s a beer and some dinner. It doesn’t really matter how old we are or who my uncle is.”
He smiled. Sometimes she seemed a little older than twenty-five. She was awfully bright. Quick. Usually the problem with girls her age was they were dimwits. Not this one. She was honest and direct. Luke respected that. “You’ve been riding,” he said. “Your cheeks are sunburned.”
“Every day. Sometimes twice a day.”
“How long have you been riding?”
“Since I was real young. I’m Uncle Walt’s only sister’s only child, and my parents were divorced when I was just a baby, so my uncle kind of took me under his wing. He taught me—he thought it would build my confidence to learn to handle big animals. It turned out I only got more confident around big animals.” She shrugged and looked down. “I used to be real timid.”
The memory of seeing her on that big American paint came to mind. “You’re sure not timid on that horse,” he said. “And you’re not so timid with me.”
“I know. I’ve worked through a lot of that. I don’t know very much about you besides that you flew helicopters in the army. What about your family? All I know is you have a brother in Black Hawks in the Middle East.”
Luke’s dad had been a hardworking teamster, an electrician, and while he was a good provider, there hadn’t been a great deal left over for things like college educations. There were five boys to raise and educate. “I was the oldest and first one in. It wasn’t a hard decision for me—I always liked the idea of the army. It was a place for me to show my stuff—and I did fine. Loved the challenge. Colin followed me—into the army out of high school, into Warrant Officer School and the Black Hawks. Aiden upped it a notch—went into college ROTC and got a navy scholarship for med school. Don’t ask me how—but Sean scored an Air Force Academy slot and got into the U-2. Sean is the brother who went in on the cabins with me. Paddy—Patrick—got into the Naval Academy and F-18.” He smiled because her mouth had dropped open.
“Holy crap, there are five of you!”
“Yeah,” he said. He thought he was going to have to sit on his hand to keep from touching her hair. “Prolific Irish family. Sean and Patrick and their jets—they think faster is cooler. But they think that because they’ve never been in