Faithful to a Fault Read online

  “Yes ma’am.” He gave Tony a nudge with his shoulder and grinned. “Miller here felt sorry for me and asked me to come on home with him. Knowing I would be stuffed with Mrs. Miller’s good home cooking for a week sealed the deal.”

  Laura chuckled and denied it, but the blush on her cheeks said she was pleased.

  Sarah wanted to believe he was a snake oil salesman, all false charm and empty eyes. But there was warmth instead, and sincerity. And the Millers seemed to like him. So she gave herself a break on the attraction. The Millers weren’t ones to be fooled. If they liked him, she trusted their judgment. To a point, anyway.

  There’s nothing to trust, she chastised herself as she listened to the chitchat of the Miller family and Pete. He’s only here for a visit.

  But when she glanced out the corner of her eye at Pete, he was watching her, the corners of his mouth curled up. She looked away, annoyed at the heat that flushed the back of her neck. Damn him for being good-looking.

  Maria nudged her and whispered, “There’s someone coming in.” Which was basically code for Man your battle stations. Back to the bar.

  “Right. Well, it was nice to meet you, Pete. You too, Tony. I’m sure I’ll see you around before you leave.” She ducked down to give Collin a peck on the cheek and hurried back to the bar. Never once did she look back.

  But after putting in an order and refilling drinks for the memory-laners, she couldn’t help but peek at the Millers’ table. Someone said something amusing and they all laughed. Then Pete’s gaze caught hers and she dashed behind the server wall.

  Wow. Impressive work. God, she was acting like she’d been raised in a convent. She knew how to handle men. She used her tricks all the time to keep them at a distance. Knowing how to anticipate their every move and not be roped in by their slick ways was her “thing”.

  At least she thought it was.

  Apparently her “thing” was broken. The inconvenient moisture coating her panties, however, said her female hormones were working just fine, and they were yelling You’ve neglected us for too long! We want to play with him!

  Yeah, well, small town. You can’t sleep with someone and not have everyone know about it. No need to be thought of as the town slut. Time to get over it.

  It then occurred to her that she was, more or less, giving a pep talk to her pussy.

  She needed to get out more.

  And maybe she’d found a good man to get out with.

  Chapter Two

  Pete learned three things about Sarah Cassidy during their afternoon playing touch football in the Millers’ backyard.

  One. She was quick as hell and almost as impossible as a special forces unit to catch.

  Two. When she flushed, she looked like she was on fire.

  Three. She might be small, but she was a handful when lying under him.

  After dividing the teams up, Pete found himself guarding Sarah. And surprisingly enough, he had to concentrate pretty hard on keeping up. What she lacked in brute strength she made up for in speed and agility.

  So when he tried to stop her from reaching Mr. Miller, their all-time quarterback, it wasn’t hard making the diving leap convincing. She landed in the snow on her side, then quickly rolled to her back, spitting out snow.

  He couldn’t help but grin at the cute picture she made. Face flushed with exertion, nose red with cold, eyes flashing fire at being caught. Not to mention the surprising curves she was packing under the winter garb.

  “Do you mind?” she asked testily and squirmed a little.

  “Not really,” he replied with a wink. The smartass answer helped mask the raging erection he was fighting off thanks to her wriggling and wrestling under him. Remove a few layers of clothing and add in a warm bed and this would have been a very appealing scenario for both of them.

  Her lips twitched as if she was holding back, but a smile crept onto her face all the same. Giving his shoulder a halfhearted punch, she said, “Time to get up now.”

  “Aww, Mom,” he teased. “I’m comfortable.” It took everything he had not to grind into her just a little. Just to show her what she was doing to him.

  Something, he wasn’t sure what, passed through her eyes before she pushed a little harder. “I’m soaking to the skin here.”

  The reminder of how cold she must be forced him to scramble to his feet. He held out a hand and she took it, letting him haul her up. “Sorry. Totally forgot.” Always a good way to impress the ladies. Make sure they catch a cold by letting snow into their sweaters.

  “It’s okay.” Sarah started to brush snow off her coat with brisk motions, then her hands slowed, then stopped. He glanced at her face and saw her gaze had drifted over his shoulder.

  All five other players—Mr. and Mrs. Miller, Maria, her boyfriend and Tony—stood huddled together, watching them with obvious interest.

  “Sorry,” he called out and took Sarah’s elbow to lead her back. “Guess I had more in me than I thought.”

  “This is as good a time as any to stop for some hot cocoa,” Mrs. Miller said. “Let’s all head in for a break. We’ll just call it halftime.”

  “Sounds like a plan. I’ll get a fire started,” Mr. Miller said with a wink and headed in.

  “Great!” Maria grabbed her boyfriend’s arm and dragged him into the house, pausing only long enough to stomp the snow off her boots before heading in. Tony followed close behind.

  “And then there were two,” Pete said. He held out an arm but she shook her head and plopped down on the patio stairs.

  “I’m going to stay out here for a minute. Too hot.” She unwound the scarf around her neck and leaned her elbows back to the step behind her. Tilting her face to the sky, eyes closed, she could have been sunning herself on a beach in Tahiti. Minus the puffy coat, of course.

  “I’ll sit with you, if you don’t mind.”

  “I have a feeling even if I did mind, you’d sit anyway,” she said, not opening her eyes.

  Pete’s butt hit the wood with a thud. “You’re probably right.” When she said nothing, he took a chance. “What are you thinking about?”

  “Just thinking that I love the Millers for inviting me to all these things. The family things,” she clarified before he had a chance to ask. “They have always made me feel like one of their own.”

  “They’re good people,” he agreed. “Let me tag along for leave when they could have said no.”

  “Hmm,” was all she said.

  Why did she need the Millers to play family with? Was she so alone in the world? God, he could relate. Not the time for that though.

  “Sorry about the tackle. I tripped.”

  She chuckled and the sound warmed him, reaching every cold nook and spreading like wildfire.

  “No you’re not. Tripped, my butt. Just say it. You wanted to win.”

  What he’d wanted was to feel her under him. To have a damn good excuse to tackle her, press his body to hers, let her feel the weight of him. What he wanted was to be alone in a dark room doing all those things. Not in the cold snow, with an audience of five.

  “Yup. I wanted to win.”

  “Well, honesty is always nice.” She stood then and he did as well. When he offered her his elbow this time, she took it. The simple gesture gave him a kick in the stomach but he ignored that and led her inside.

  * * * * *

  Sarah opened the door to a shocked Pete.

  “You live here?” He looked back toward the main house. “In the garage?”

  “Above the garage,” she corrected. “If you didn’t know I lived here, who did you think did?”

  Pete held up a dish covered with foil as evidence. “Mrs. Miller asked me to bring this to Mrs. Nelson. Said if she wasn’t at home to leave it with that woman who lived in the garage apartment.”

  “Uh huh.” Laura Miller knew damn well tonight was Mrs. Nelson’s canasta night. That woman indeed. She reluctantly stepped aside and opened the door wider. “Well, come on in. It’s freezing.”


  Pete was careful to scrape his boots first, which she appreciated. She took the dish from him, asking, “Freezer or fridge?”

  “Freezer,” he answered absently, eyes roaming the small living space. He didn’t remove his coat. That meant two things. One, he didn’t mean to stay long, which was good for her sanity. And two, she wasn’t faced with the reminder of his body…which had felt too good for words lying over her in the snow.

  Sarah had already decided to cut herself a break on the attraction. While her mind screamed that she should consider all men to be scum and avoid them as a whole, her body had other plans. And really, Pete was a temporary fixture anyway. Like quickly moving landscape on a road trip. She would have just enough time to admire the scenery before it was a memory.

  Four years was long enough to beat herself up over a mistake.

  When she turned back around, Pete was in the corner with her globe, slowly rotating it. His fingers trailed over the textured surface, tips tracing the red marks she’d made.

  “I hate to tell you this, but someone has graffitied your globe.”

  Sarah laughed. “That would be me. I bought that thing in a yard sale, but the markings are all mine.”

  His eyes never left the spinning sphere as he asked, “What are they for?”

  Her footsteps sounded heavy to her own ears as she walked over to stand by him and watch the red markings drift by with each rotation. “Places I want to go. Need to go. After my ex-husband left me here—”

  “Wait, you’re divorced?”

  Sarah looked at his widened eyes. “Is that a problem?”

  He shook his head. “No. You’re just so young…”

  “Divorce knows no age limit,” she joked. Because she could joke…now. A few years ago, not so much. “Anyway, I realized that I wanted to keep exploring. But not with him.”

  “A nomad,” he joked.

  “A wanderer,” she corrected, not at all upset. “Some people do well with roots. Mine seem to like planting themselves all over the place.”

  “Ever knocked one of these places off the list?”

  A heaviness settled in her chest. “No. I’m sure my brother probably has. But then I wouldn’t know anything about his life anymore.” When he gave her a look, she added, “He left when I was younger. Where he is now, I wouldn’t know. I haven’t talked to him for a while.”

  She put her hand out to stop the spinning and her fingers brushed his. The shock she received was just static electricity, she lectured herself. But when he covered her hand with his over the globe, even she didn’t buy her own bull.

  “You will. See the world, I mean. If that’s what you want.”

  She looked up, saw the teasing light was gone. Solemn eyes met hers, as if willing her to reach for the goal. As if his own determination could push her to reach farther.

  He was close enough to kiss. She could just stand on her toes and brush her lips against his with hardly any effort at all. And despite her better judgment, she found herself wondering if his kisses would hold the same intensity as his eyes.

  With how fierce he looked, she had no doubt. No wonder he was a Marine. In what other profession could you attack something with such intensity on a daily basis?

  She resisted the urge to sweep a finger over his brow and smooth the lines that deepened while he studied her. Like he was trying to figure her out, piece her together.

  But she wasn’t his puzzle to complete. So she took a step back—physically and emotionally—and used a chipper, impersonal voice. “Thanks for bringing that by. When Mrs. Nelson comes home I’ll be sure to run it over.”

  Pete stared at her a moment longer, then nodded as if he’d made some conclusion about something. “Good.” He walked to the door and opened it, turning only to give a stern warning of, “Lock this behind me,” before closing it firmly in his wake.

  The charged air immediately stilled. Like someone flipped the switch. Sarah breathed deeply, then walked to the door to lock it.

  Scenery, Sarah. He’s good-looking scenery on this road trip. Don’t get attached.

  * * * * *

  Pete enjoyed family meals with the Millers. Though there were only four of them, plus Pete and Maria’s boyfriend, the noise was out of control. Everyone was loud, crazy and quick to crack a joke. Food was tossed, drinks were spilled, and you often had to shout to be heard if you weren’t speaking to the person right next to you.

  It was his childhood dream come true.

  Growing up in foster homes meant you grabbed food when you could and hoarded it for when you couldn’t. Sure, there were good foster families, but they were few and far between in his experience. Often they were only in it for the short haul. He’d never been a problem kid, never saw the point in acting out for attention. The way he saw it, the less attention, the better. He became quick at adapting, becoming a chameleon, at knowing how to use humor to diffuse almost any situation, from awkward to dangerous.

  The Corps was his family now. And he would die for anyone in his family.

  But it was nice to pretend with the Millers. That he was their pseudo-son, and this was just another dinner in a long line of family meals. That he could take for granted the security and warmth.

  Pete heard the door open and shut, but either nobody else heard, or they didn’t think it was something to note. A moment later, Sarah rounded the corner.

  “Hey, Millers.”

  Her face was rosy from the cold, her dark blonde hair was a complete tangle. But it was the grin on her face that had him struggling to breathe.

  Unlike yesterday at the bar, tonight she seemed… Glowing. She radiated happiness. As she shed her coat, scarf and mittens, he watched her generous breasts press against the front of her sweater. The thick material hid any evidence of cold, but he could easily guess her nipples were solid pebbles from the winter air. He could almost feel them pushing into the palm of his hands, warming her skin with his own.

  Hands clenched into fists under the table, he willed his cock to settle down, or else he’d have a permanent indent from the zipper of his jeans.

  “Mom, I invited Sarah for dessert. I hope you don’t mind, but we always have so many leftovers,” Maria said as she popped up to grab another plate from the kitchen.

  “Of course I don’t,” Laura said. “Sarah’s always welcome. Grab a seat, sweetie. The one by Pete is free.”

  Sarah’s smile dimmed a fraction, then picked back up.

  Was he really that bad? Had he scared her at some point? The intensity from the day before in her apartment had concerned him, but it was nothing to freak out about. At least, he didn’t think so.

  As conversation around them resumed its typical level of insanity, she seemed to relax a bit. And when he knocked his hand against hers reaching for another slice of pie, she didn’t react one way or another.

  He felt compelled to try again, see if she would give him another shot.

  “How long have you worked at Buffalo’s?”

  “Four years,” she answered easily. “Started as a hostess, worked my way up to bartender. I’ve loved every minute of it.”

  “She could be manager by now,” Maria put in.

  “I could,” Sarah conceded. “But then I wouldn’t be around to bust your chops all the time. I’d be upstairs doing paperwork.” She gave a mock shudder.

  “No aspirations in restaurant management?” Tony asked.

  “Nope. Didn’t even have aspirations as a restaurant bartender. Just fell into it.”

  “Did you grow up in the area?”

  Her lips tightened into a thin line. “Nope. Can you pass the cobbler?” she asked firmly.

  Okay. Was it his imagination or did he just hear a door slam shut? He could take a hint when someone clobbered him over the head with it. Determined to keep up the positive direction they’d been moving, he asked how her day had been.

  She launched into an amusing story about one of their regulars and a pickle he’d gotten himself into over a forgotten anniver
sary. And with each change of topic, her posture loosened, her eyes moved from wary to inviting. For some unknown reason, knowing she was at ease made him more comfortable as well.

  Eventually Mr. Miller leaned away from the table and rubbed his stomach. “Stuffed doesn’t begin to describe it. Good meal, love.” He leaned over and gave his wife a kiss.

  Pete couldn’t swear it, but he thought he heard Sarah breathe a tiny sigh. But before he could replay the moment to be sure, she stood.

  “Thanks for dessert, Mrs. M. Amazing as always. I need to get going.”

  “Didn’t hear that rattletrap of yours pull up. Did you get the muffler fixed?”

  Sarah paused in the act of wrapping her scarf up in some complex but adorable pattern. “No, haven’t had time yet. I walked.”

  “Walked? Honey, no,” Laura chided. “You could have called, we would have come to get you.”

  “I like the exercise,” Sarah said with a smile. “Knowing I’d gorge myself on your cobbler means I need to burn the extra calories. It’s only a few blocks.” She leaned over and gave Mr. Miller a hug. “Thanks. Maria, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Tony, walk home with her,” Colin ordered.

  Pete didn’t give him time to agree. “I’ll go.”

  “You don’t have to,” Sarah said through her teeth.

  He bit back the urge to smile. “I want to. Just give me a minute to grab my co—” He was talking to thin air. She’d already turned on her heel and left the room. When he glanced back at the table, four grins greeted him. He shrugged.

  “I think she likes me.”

  * * * * *

  Sarah trudged through the bracing wind, hunching slightly when an extra powerful gust nearly knocked her over. She had to get out of there. For whatever reason, Pete was crawling under her skin. Infiltrating the perfect coat of armor she’d built up rivet by rivet after her divorce. Slipping in past all defenses to make her want again. Need again. Remember she was a woman.

  And that wouldn’t do. There was no point in investing her time in thinking about a guy who had nothing to do with her. Pete was about as interested in her as—