Rachel made a face and gave a slow shake of her head. “No, I’m fine. Believe me, I’ve dealt with more stress than this. Come on in.”
She stepped back to let him cross the doorjamb and into the room. There was a brown paper take-out bag in his huge right hand. “I hope you like Mexican. I’ve got this great place down the block from my apartment that I go to way too often.”
Rachel was surprised. “No, Mexican sounds delicious, actually. Not what I expected.”
He shrugged his broad shoulders. “I didn’t want to take the easy route, you know, like a pizza.”
Grinning, he crossed to her dining room table and started unpacking Styrofoam containers. He set a second brown paper bag aside then set a foam clamshell at one place setting, and a second at the other.
Rachel watched the heavy muscles of his shoulders flex and extend as he unpacked the food. She was around men every day, had been her entire life. She had always been a better guy friend than girl friend because she didn’t get into all the girl stuff. If asked whether she’d like to shoot or shop, shooting would get her vote, hands down, every time.
But as she looked at the way Dean moved, lean back elongating as he reached across the table, she decided she didn’t want to be his buddy. At least, notjusthis buddy.God, he had a great ass.She jerked her attention back to what he was doing, barely escaping notice as he turned to her.
“What can I get you to drink? Beer, pop, water?” she asked, hoping it covered the blush on her face.
“I’ll take a water, please.”
Rachel drew two tall glasses of ice water from the filtered jug she kept in the fridge and walked them to the table. Dean looked up at her as she entered the room and she almost stumbled. The look in his eyes… it took true strength of will to set the glasses down without spilling the water.
He actually moved to hold the chair for her. Face burning, Rachel let him scoot the chair under her butt. “Thank you,” she murmured.
Dean sat across from her and the chair actually creaked. His eyes flicked to hers and he widened his eyes theatrically. “I’ve only destroyed one chair in my life, I swear!”
Rachel laughed and looked away, entirely too charmed by him. “It’s stronger than it looks. Though you are a big dude.” She took the excuse to look him up and down.
He wore a soft blue button-down shirt, short sleeves revealing his muscular biceps and forearms. Dark blond hair covered his tan skin and her gaze could trace the length of his veins down his arms. She wanted to trace those same veins with her fingertips.
Dean leaned his head down to catch her gaze and Rachel felt her skin heat again. Shit, he’d caught her gawking at him. “Yes?”
He tipped his chin toward the white Styrofoam container in front of her. “I ordered chicken fajitas and enchiladas. Which would you prefer?”
They both sounded good. Hunger was suddenly overriding the nausea. “Can we split them?”
Dean’s perfect smile spread and he nodded, putting her request into action.
“Where are you from, Rachel?”
“I’m from a little bit of everywhere. My dad’s in the Marines, so we bounced around a lot. I’d been to more countries by the age of twelve than most people see in their lives. My dad is getting ready to retire in a couple years. He’ll probably stay in Pensacola, where he’s stationed now.”
“With your mom?”
Rachel stared at him for a moment before shaking her head. “No, my mom committed suicide when I was about ten.”
Dean cringed and reached forward to rest his hand on hers. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.”
The touch of his cool fingers on hers made her appreciate him all the more. “She got tired of the life, I think, though she never told Dad that. We were getting ready for another move out of the country when she swallowed a bunch of sleeping pills.”
Though she didn’t say it out loud, she had been the one to find her mother, of course; lying on her bed as if nothing were wrong. It was not unusual for mother to take a lot of naps, which when she got older Rachel realized was a symptom of her ongoing depression. But Mom had always been good about getting up to make dinner for her daughter and husband. That night she did not.
“Did you have brothers or sisters?”
“No, just Dad. But after Mom…left, he was a very different man. She had been the central support of our family and when she left things fell apart. My dad used to be a steady fixture in my life, but he couldn’t stand to be at the house without Mom in it. He got the acceptance he needed from the Marines, and I mean that literally. He was on base as much as possible.”
“I’m surprised you weren’t a little resentful of them, then.”
Rachel nodded. What an interesting insight. “No, not resentful. I graduated high school and joined the Marines myself as soon as I could. For a while I found that acceptance, too. Dad was proud of me for a while. There’s nothing like knowing the guy next to you will take a bullet for you.”
Dean lifted his brows at her as he shoved a forkful of food into his mouth.