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“Well, thanks for passing the info along.” Marlys set the piece of paper aside, when she would have preferred to make a ball and send it straight to the round file.
“Unlike your friend’s, this party is open to everyone,” Dean said. “You could post the flyer in your window.”
Incredulous, Marlys stared at the man. “You must have the totally wrong impression of me.”
He shook his head. “I don’t think so. I wouldn’t feel like this if you were…”
“A stone-cold bitch?” she supplied helpfully.
He laughed. “I think you’re scared. And it’s my job to boost your morale.”
“Oh, baby, I’ve got self-esteem to burn. Surely you can see that.”
“I can see the future sometimes, you know, thanks to my Cherokee forefathers.”
“Yeah?” She sauntered closer, intrigued despite herself. “My bullshit meter is quivering, but I’ll play. What’s this super-vision of yours foresee?”
He grabbed her close, grinning when she squeaked. “Me. I see me in your head, in your heart, and I’m burrowing deep, angel.”
She rolled her eyes, trying not to panic at the thought. Burrowing deep? He was deploying. “I suppose you see me naked, too.”
He looked off, apparently searching his inner crystal ball. “I guess it’s going to let me get that picture all on my own. You are going to get naked for me, aren’t you, angel?”
“Dean…” He kissed away whatever she’d been about to say. It was like every time before, which was like no time with anyone else. It was deep and wet and now she knew why they called it a soul kiss. He touched her there, her soul, and damn, she had one.
She stepped back, startled.
And worried a little, because it might mean she had a conscience as well.
“Why look so stricken?” Dean asked. His dark eyebrows drew together.
“How…why…” Her voice wouldn’t rise above a whisper. “I don’t think…”
“Stop thinking,” Dean said, pulling her close to press his forehead to hers.
She breathed him in and already it was familiar, and the familiarity was as heady as the scent itself. “How do you know…?”
“That this is right?”
Man could see both the future and read her thoughts. God. But she nodded.
“I just…do.” He moved back but didn’t let go of her, a crooked smile she’d never seen before making her stomach clench. “I have a rep, Marlys.”
“You don’t have to tell me you have a way with women—”
“Not that kind.” He traced her mouth with two of his fingertips. “I’m known to be a little…impetuous.”
She laughed. “You think?”
“Reckless.”
The way he said the word was a clean kill to her laughter. “Reckless.”
“There are guys—other soldiers I know—who are so damn careful. It used to make me kind of nuts, if you want to know the truth. Because I thought it took a certain kind of rashness to do what we do.”
Her stomach clenched again. Impetuous. Reckless. Rash. Those were words she’d once used to describe herself.
“Before every mission, there are guys who whip out the photos of their girls and look at them like they’re making promises and saying prayers at the same time.”
Marlys was glad he was holding her up, because her knees were like pudding.
“When I opened my eyes that first day and I saw you standing there, I knew. I just knew. ‘That’s the picture I’ll have in my head every time I go into battle,’ I told myself.”
No. She couldn’t do it! That couldn’t be her. She didn’t want to live a life waiting for a man to come back, just like she’d waited all her childhood for her father to return and take her away. He hadn’t, right? Instead, he’d left her with the lonely civilian childhood and the bitter woman that her mother had become. Marlys never got what she wanted most.
But she couldn’t help herself. With a little whimper, she pulled Dean close and buried her face in his shoulder. She should be running from him, she wanted to run from him, but she wasn’t strong enough to do it. Burrowing closer, she wondered how hard it would be to crawl inside his skin.
He drew her even nearer; they were pressed tight from chest to knee. Still, she moved into him.
“Ouch.” Dean insinuated his hand between their bodies and felt the lump in her patch pocket. “What’s this?”
Before she could stop him, he’d pulled free the silver pendant and chain. “Oh, Marlys.”
The phone jangled in the shop, and she ignored it, her gaze fixed on the silver tear that was swinging between her and her soldier.
