Search and Seduce Page 3

  “But he always was your hero, wasn’t he, Ames?” Gabe added. “Always perfect in your eyes.”

  No. Amy pressed her lips together, not saying a word. Darren had been her husband and her best friend. She would always love him. But there was a time, before his death, when he’d stopped being her hero.

  Gabe shook his head. “How did my brother get so lucky? We were born and raised in the same town, went to the same high school, and not one of us found a girl like you.”

  “You found plenty of girls like me. I was under the impression you preferred to catch and release.” She glanced at her audience, hoping for a laugh, or at least a smile.

  Nothing.

  Amy felt something heavy pressing against her leg and looked down to see Jango. Good boy, he’d sensed her tension and decided she needed him.

  Amy crouched down. “Need to go out, buddy?”

  The dog looked at her as if to say, I can hold it, but you need to get out of here. Pronto.

  “I’ll let you guys get started. I’ll be up at the house with the dogs if you need anything.” She stood and led Jango out the door.

  “You got it, Amy. But don’t worry about us. We’ll have this place ready for you,” Gabe said. “We’ll swing by later after we pick up Mark and give you a progress report.”

  “Thanks.” She followed Jango outside.

  Four more days. She had to make it through the opening and dedication. After that, the Benton brothers would return to serving their country. She could pretend her dream was nothing more than a way to keep Darren’s memory alive for a few days. For their sake. Maybe it would help them. Transforming her vision for this place into a reality had allowed her to restart her life after losing Darren. It had given her a reason to get out of bed each day.

  But purpose infused the Benton brothers’ lives. They served their country. For them, coming home was like opening an old wound. She had a hunch their grief felt fresh and overwhelming when they were back in Heart’s Landing. They didn’t see this town as a place to move forward. They came here to remember.

  She stopped halfway between the farmhouse and the kennel, waiting while Jango marked a tree. Would Mark feel the same? Unease settled in her stomach, forming a tight ball.

  For months now, their Sunday talks had centered on the present—how the kennel was progressing, her trip to Denmark to pick up the dogs she planned to breed and, when he felt like sharing, the lives he’d saved. Would coming home open old wounds? Would he join the others in the seemingly endless toast to her late husband’s memory?

  Probably. After all, Darren had been like a brother to Mark.

  She crossed her arms in front of her chest, bracing against the cool March wind. Winter had lingered this year, refusing to give way to spring. Jango trotted back to her side, and they headed for the house to check on the puppies. It would be nice, she thought, hugging her arms tight, if someone saw how much she needed this place to be hers.

  * * *

  THREE HOURS LATER, Amy raced down the stairs in a T-shirt and underwear with Jango at her side.

  “Let go,” she called. Charlie and Foxtrot, the two most promising and troublesome puppies, ran in different directions, each holding a leg of her jeans between their teeth.

  “Come on, guys, I need my pants,” she said.

  Foxtrot won the tug-of-war game, ripping the jeans from Charlie’s mouth. Amy smiled. Out of this litter, Foxtrot showed the most promise. He had the drive to win. Just like a solider entering Basic Underwater Demolition/SEAL training had to want a place on the SEAL teams so badly he’d push past anything to get there, the dogs selected to work with the SEALs had to be the best. And being the best meant they never gave up. Every game of tug-of-war mattered. They had to win. Every ball thrown had to be retrieved. The dog wouldn’t have it any other way. And that was Foxtrot, always the winner.

  Charlie, the loser, tumbled but quickly recovered to chase his brother around the corner and into the kitchen.

  Following them, she heard a loud rip. Maybe Charlie had it in him to serve with the SEALs, too. He’d just won half of her pants.

  “Okay, you can keep the jeans,” she said. “I’ll find another pair. But I need you guys to go back to the guest room.”

  Ignoring her, the dogs disappeared from view, heading for the front room. While two stories, the farmhouse’s footprint was small. A living room off the main entrance with a hall that led to the kitchen, the spare bedroom and the stairs. The upper floor featured an open, loft-style master bedroom. When the puppies escaped their room, they had free rein of the house. And she was starting to suspect they knew it. All the more reason to whelp this litter and move them into the kennel.

  She heard a knocking from the front room followed by a series of barks and closed her eyes. She didn’t want to know what they’d done to make that sound.

  Amy rounded the corner and found the puppies on the couch shredding her jeans.

  “Drop it,” she said in a loud, authoritative tone.

  This time they released her pants and looked up at her. But a second knocking diverted their attention. The front door.

  “Amy?”

  Oh, no. For the past eighteen months, she’d heard that voice through her computer every Sunday.

  “Just a minute.” But the puppies barked, drowning out her words. They jumped off the couch, taking her destroyed jeans with them.

  She heard the knob turn, and Gabe say, “It should be unlocked. She knows we’re coming.”

  Amy glanced down and groaned. Leopard-print undies with the words Feeling Lucky in big red letters. She’d bought them on sale months ago. At the time she’d thought no one would ever see them.

  Her three brothers-in-law stepped into her living room. Mark followed, his rucksack over his shoulder, still wearing his uniform. She watched as four sets of eyes widened.

  “Shit, Amy. The door was open. I’m sorry,” Gabe said, redirecting his gaze. The rest of the brothers did the same, looking at the walls, the ceiling, anywhere but at her.

  Not Mark. His were the only eyes in the room still fixed on her. And judging from the intensity of his stare, he wasn’t embarrassed. He looked...interested. But it had been so long since a man had glanced at her with even a hint of desire that she was probably imagining it. She watched his lips move and realized he was reading the words on her underwear.

  “The puppies stole my pants,” she said.

  Amy saw the exact moment it clicked for Mark. He heard her voice, and he no longer saw her as a woman in her undies, but as Darren’s widow. That hint of desire, the one she may or may not have imagined, vanished. He looked away, shaking his head.

  And great, now she was standing in a room full of drop-dead gorgeous men, in her underwear, and not one of them was looking at her.

  3

  FEELING LUCKY?

  Mark read the red letters, knowing he should look away. The other guys radiated discomfort, shifting restlessly. But Mark couldn’t do it.

  Those long bare legs begged a man to fall to his knees and worship her. One glance and he knew he’d start by running his hands over her calves, gently guiding her legs farther apart, until he reached her thighs. He’d lean forward and run his lips, his tongue, his teeth over those red letters...

  Shit, he shouldn’t go there, not even in his freaking imagination. Make that especially not in his imagination after that dream he’d had on the flight back. But seeing Amy in her underwear uncovered a feeling that bordered on foreign. Desire, need, whatever the hell it was, looking at her, it hit him hard—and left him aching to touch and taste.

  His gaze narrowed in, focusing on those sparkling words. If only luck was on his side.

  While deployed, fear was his constant companion. It kept him vigilant, ready for the worst. The way he looked at it, skill kept him alive. Beneath the fear was a boatload of sadness and loss. Nothing lucky about that.

  He heard her say something about puppies and pants. But Jango distracted him. One look at the dog
and the desire vanished. The animal was like a shadow, always there. He was a four-legged, living and breathing reminder that Amy belonged to his best friend. He shouldn’t be reading the words on her underwear. Not now, not ever.

  “I’ll go throw on some pants,” she said. “Make yourselves at home.”

  Mark heard Amy’s footsteps on the wooden floorboards, but kept his gaze trained on the wall. The stairs creaked, and he felt the brothers breathe a collective sigh of relief.

  “Didn’t need to see that,” T.J. muttered.

  “We should get back to work,” Gabe said, turning to the door. “Tell Amy we’ll catch up with her later. Over drinks at the Tall Pines Tavern?”

  Mark nodded. “Sure thing. And thanks for the ride.”

  Luke slapped his shoulder as they walked past. “Anytime, man. Good to have you home.”

  The brothers hightailed it out the door. Mark dropped his rucksack on the floor and thought about following them. But it seemed like a bad idea to let the discomfort fester. Not when he’d come all this way to help her. He’d seen Amy in a bathing suit before. This wasn’t any different.

  Two puppies raced through the room, each dragging a piece of what he guessed had been her jeans. They paused to bark at him, the unfamiliar person in their home, and then raced off again with their prize.

  Watching the remains of her pants disappear around the corner, Mark realized a bathing suit was one thing. Leopard-print underwear was another. Someone was supposed to read those words—feeling lucky—and take action.

  Was she seeing someone? She’d never said anything. But he was probably the last person she’d tell. Or at least on the list of last people. Darren’s brothers were up there, too. If she was...well, hell, that was exactly what she needed. Someone new. A fresh start.

  His jaw tightened. But whoever the guy was, he’d better be worthy of Amy. She’d been through so much. If some jerk thought he could breeze in and out of her life, Mark would be tempted to kick the shit out of him. And he had a feeling Darren’s brothers would be next in line.

  “Sorry about that.” Amy walked into the room. This time she wore a pair of faded blue jeans and an oversize sweatshirt. She’d pulled her long hair into a ponytail. She looked exactly like the Amy he remembered from high school.

  “They’re six weeks old, and I’ve been doing some bite work with them,” she said, speaking quickly, a sure sign she was still embarrassed. “Mostly chasing rags. They saw my jeans and thought it was a game.”

  Mark shrugged. “Most people are so excited to see me they forget their pants.”

  Funny or not, the joke worked its magic and diffused the discomfort.

  Amy cocked her head to one side and smiled. “You save people. I guess that is to be expected.”

  She stepped closer, wrapping her arms around him, hugging him tight.

  Mark closed his eyes. He couldn’t recall the last time someone had held him. The flare of desire he’d sensed earlier was gone. Her hug? It was better than Thanksgiving dinner with all the fixings. It was pure comfort. Considering he’d been in Afghanistan less than forty-eight hours ago, it felt like a luxury.

  “I missed you,” she said. He felt her breath on his neck and moved away, breaking the physical connection before his body misinterpreted the way she was pressed up against him, and he started thinking about falling down on his knees and worshipping her again.

  “Same here.” The puppies raced around the corner, their paws sliding on the wooden floorboards. “Want some help rounding them up?”

  “Let me grab some treats.”

  Mark followed her into the kitchen, taking in every detail. Nothing had changed. Pictures of Amy with her dogs, of her and Darren, hung on the walls. There was a large framed shot of her parents sitting on a boat.

  “Your folks enjoying Florida?” he asked.

  “They love it.” She removed a handful of jerky treats from a jar. “My mom likes the weather, and she’s thrilled to be closer to my grandmother. My aunt moved down there, too. They thought about coming west for the opening, but it’s a long trip. I told them not to bother.”

  “That’s too bad. What you’re doing here is pretty impressive. I’m sure they’d be proud.”

  “Thanks, but you haven’t even seen the kennels yet.”

  As if they’d smelled the treats through the walls, the puppies came running. Amy offered one to each dog as she led them around the corner. “Or met Nova and Bullet.”

  “The dogs you brought back from Europe?”

  She nodded, opening the door to the spare bedroom. “I’ve been keeping Nova in here with her puppies while we finish the kennels. They should be able to move down in the next few days, before the opening. Until then, you’re stuck on the couch. I hope that’s okay.”

  “Long as I’m not in the way.”

  She knelt down beside a large Belgian Malinois and began rubbing her belly. “I’ll be glad for the company.”

  He looked around the room. Two adult dogs, including Jango, and five puppies. “Looks like you have a full house already.”

  “I’d like to talk to someone who doesn’t bark at me,” she said. “Eloise doesn’t count. The only time she stays here she is too drunk to drive home, or avoiding her latest romantic disaster.”

  “Sounds like the same old Eloise.” He bent over and scooped up a tan puppy with a striking black nose and pointed ears. Mark was familiar with the breed, but also knew they were often mistaken for German shepherds. The little one in his hands bore a strong resemblance to the more popular breed.

  “What about you?” Mark asked. “Are you seeing anyone?”

  Amy froze, her hand on Nova’s belly. “Wow, no one has asked me that.”

  Mark shrugged, turning the puppy onto her back. From a young age, war dogs were handled a lot, put in different positions to make them comfortable with anything. “Darren’s been gone eighteen months.”

  “I know, but—I’ve been busy. Opening this place has taken all my time.”

  The tension Mark had been holding on to since he’d first thought her underwear might have an intended audience slipped away.

  “And I haven’t exactly been looking,” she added.

  “Then your couch sounds great. An upgrade from the crowded barracks.”

  Amy stood and turned to him. He knew that look. She’d worn the same expression when she won homecoming queen. Pure astonishment.

  “You thought you’d be in the way because I was seeing someone?” She let out a laugh.

  “Yeah,” he said, looking up at her. “It’s not such a crazy idea.”

  He cut himself off before he said things he couldn’t take back. Amy didn’t need to know that he’d taken one look at her bare legs and thought about running his hands up her limbs because, shit, his mind should never have traveled down that road. She might be single, but that didn’t mean he was the guy to fill the empty space in her bed.

  “Sometimes it still kind of feels like it is,” she said softly. Then she gave a little shake of her head and turned to the door. “You came all this way, I think I owe you a tour.”

  “Love one.” He returned the puppy to his mother and held the door for Amy and Jango.

  With the sun sinking low in the sky, they walked through the yard to the kennel. It was double in size, compared to the previous structure. He knew she’d done well with her dog training and boarding business, and enjoyed it, but a building this size suggested she was seriously committed to her new venture.

  He stopped a few feet from the door, resting his hands on his hips as he studied the new kennel. She’d painted it white with a forest green trim. It looked shiny and new.

  “Impressive,” he said.

  She looped her arm through his. “You haven’t seen the inside yet.”

  He followed her through the reception area into a long hall with individual rooms lining either side. Peering through an open door, he saw that each room held a doghouse and two doors—one doggy and one human—to a small f
enced outdoor area.

  “I tried to replicate the kennels where the SEAL teams kept their dogs,” she said. “On a smaller scale, of course.”

  “You did a kick-ass job.” The place was amazing. How she’d pulled it together in only a few months, while working to secure the funds from the bank, astonished him.

  “When Darren was home, I would ask him to draw sketches of the kennels Jango lived in. He also made lists of changes he wanted to make and things he’d keep the same. And I added some of my own ideas, too.”

  Mark paused and leaned against the entry to a modern, brand-new veterinary exam room.

  “You should be proud of yourself.”

  Her lips curved, offering a hint of a smile. “I am.”

  “Are you planning to head out with the guys tonight?” He stepped into the exam room, closer to her. After seeing her in her underwear, he knew he should keep his distance. But he couldn’t do it. “To Tall Pines Tavern?”

  “I might drop by. I think the puppies are old enough now to be left alone for an hour or two. Maybe I’ll see if Mrs. Benton can stop in and check on them.”

  “How about I take you to dinner first?” he said, running his hand over the metal table’s smooth surface. “Toast your success.”

  Amy blinked. Shit, he’d surprised her. Too late to take it back now. He kept his gaze fixed on her, but out of the corner of his eye, he saw Jango stand. The animal looked ready to attack. It was as if he’d understood Mark’s words but misinterpreted his intentions. This was just dinner between two friends. And that was all they’d ever be—friends.

  * * *

  AMY STARED AT MARK as if he was speaking a foreign language. She’d eaten dinner with Mark hundreds of times. But there was something about this invitation that sent her mind spiraling back to the flash of longing she’d seen in his eyes earlier. The thought of sitting across from him, sharing a meal, his attention focused on her...

  “I...um...yes. Okay,” she said, feeling like a giddy schoolgirl.

  He nodded. “Is Lucia’s Italian place still open?”