Page 47 of An Indecent Longing

His smile returned. “Wasn’t sure you’d remember that. You’d had a few drinks.”

Her nose wrinkled. “Where were you stationed?”

He shrugged. “All over. The Middle East my last few years. A few places I can’t tell you.”

“Why did you leave?”

“After the third or fourth time you’re shot or stabbed, you realize you’re not immortal and maybe there’s more to life than an adrenaline rush.”

“Is that why you went into the service? For the rush?”

“I went into the service because I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do with my life. I was eighteen and had a high school diploma, no money for college, and no burning desire to go. And I needed a way to make an honest living. I didn’t want to spend my life pushing drugs or providing muscle for criminals. I figured, at least in the service, I probably wouldn’t end up with a record.”

She bit her lip, knowing that he meant he hadn’t wanted to work for someone like her dad.

The land mines were increasing by the second, but she pushed forward, finding their conversation fascinating.

“A lot of the guys I went to school with ended up working for the gangs or the families,” Ben continued. “That wasn’t what I wanted out of life. Most people never get out. Or, if they do, it’s in a body bag.”

She could’ve argued his point. There were some men who got out with their lives. Men like Max and Jesse. But they were the exception, not the rule.

Then again, most of Karel Antonoff’s men were loyal to an almost obsessive degree. She wasn’t sure why he inspired that level of commitment. She only knew that his top lieutenants would die for him. And he would give his life for them.

“So I decided I’d let Uncle Sam give me an education and pay me at the same time. Haven’t regretted my decision. What about you? Ever regret becoming a doctor?”

“Not enough to let it stop me.”

“All those classes and hours of study would’ve made me crazy. Send me on a three-day mission through a desert with a backpack and a compass?” He glanced her way and grinned, stealing her capacity for higher thought. “Now that’s my kind of fun. What’s yours?”

She blinked, her brain still stuck on his question about regret. “What’s my what?”

“What do you like to do for fun?”

Did she have fun? “I play soccer twice a week. When I have the time.”

“Did you play in high school?”

“Yes. Though I wasn’t very good at it then. I was too timid.”

“So you found your killer instinct.”

“I guess…I stopped being afraid of failing and caring what other people thought.”

“Feels good, doesn’t it?”

She turned to face him with a grin, feeling, for the first time in a long time, like she could actually breathe. All because of this man.

“Yes, it does. It feels really good.”

* * * * *

Dinner had gone much better than Ben had hoped.

Hell, it’d exceeded all of his expectations.

Dorrie was nothing like he’d expected. And so much more. When she’d finally emerged from that quiet shell she pulled around herself like armor, she’d shown a gift for dry sarcasm that kept him smiling.

And every time she’d smiled at him, he’d had to shift to relieve the pressure from his pants on his erection. He’d been hard all night. Thankfully, she hadn’t been able to see how much he wanted her. Didn’t want to scare her off because he had every intention of spending most of the night with her.

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