Page 20 of Bad Girls Don't Marry Marines (Rock Canyon, Idaho 3)

As he’d straightened the truck out, he’d asked, “You always hop into the trucks of strange guys?”

“Nope. My dad would kill me.”

“Who’s your dad?”

“Mayor Willis. I’m Valerie, by the way.” A small laugh escaped her, and she’d leaned her head back against his arm, the soft strands of her hair tickling his skin. The landscape around them passed like dark shadows as he drove along the back roads.

“So, what’s your story?” he’d asked. Justin had heard her name from her older sister, Caroline, who had gone with a friend of his, but he’d never met Val in person.

“Rebellious teenager looking for some action.”

He’d grinned. “Action, huh?”

The look she’d shot him under her lashes had been filled with promise. “Oh, yeah.” He felt her hand rest on his thigh and couldn’t stop his reaction. His heart had kicked up into high gear and his cock had stirred with interest.

Clearing his throat, he’d asked, “How old are you?”

“Sixteen, almost seventeen,” she said, her lips teasing the side of his neck. “What about your story?”

“I’m on leave from the Marines. Just passing the time until I ship out.” He moved his neck a little away from her mouth at the mention of her age.

Her lips left his skin. “Where are you headed?” Val asked.

“Afghanistan.”

He didn’t like to tell people because they always got that look in their eyes, that pitying stare, like he was already doomed. He glanced down, saw a similar gleam in her eyes, and grimaced. “I’m a mechanic, not infantry.”

“It’s still a war zone. Aren’t you scared?” she asked as her hand squeezed his thigh, like she was trying to comfort him.

“Well, yeah, but I could get killed driving on an icy road or just walking into a bank and being held up. There are a million ways to die.”

He’d been putting on a brave face, of course. He was terrified of being deployed, especially after the accounts his brother had given him of his own experiences. But he couldn’t stay here and play it safe either. He could have stayed and helped his dad, but he didn’t want to get stuck. And he wasn’t wrong; he could stay here and die in a scary situation at home. His mention of icy roads made him think of how his mother had died, how he would hate to be trapped somewhere, knowing he was dying but unable to escape.

“You’re right,” she said, breaking into his dark thoughts.

It was tense in the cab for several moments while he’d thought of something to say to ease out of the silence.

As he turned into a parking spot at the high school, he’d said, “Of course, if you wanted to wish me luck, you could always send me off with a special favor.”

“What kind of favor?” she’d asked. Justin had turned to look at her, raising his eyebrow.

“Play your cards right and I might send you off with a bang.”

He’d sucked in his breath and cut the engine. Clicking off his seat belt, he’d pulled her into his body and kissed her, his hard-on pressed against the zipper of his jeans as they’d made out. He’d had his hand on her side, creeping toward her breast, when one of his friends had banged on his window and let out a wolf howl.

They’d pulled apart and he’d flipped them off, ignoring their cackles as they walked away.

“Are we following them or . . .”

He thought about staying in the truck or, better yet, finding somewhere really secluded, but the word jailbait flashed through his brain. “Let’s go. Carl’s stupidity is legendary, and I’d hate for you to miss it.”

Her laugh had been husky and sexy as hell and had done nothing to help his arousal. Before he’d changed his mind, he’d jumped out, turning just in time to catch her as she came out of his side. Spinning her around in his arms, he’d kissed her again, that same sense of familiarity overwhelming him, like he’d known her forever.

Setting her down, he’d taken her hand, their palms warm and fitting naturally, as they’d walked toward the back of the school.

Justin was sucked back into the present when he almost missed the turn in to the radio station. As he climbed out of his truck and headed inside the square building, he pulled his wool cap lower over his ears. The wind whipped around him, making his face numb, and he could have sworn icicles formed on his lashes.

Opening the double doors, he hurried inside, thankful for the warmth of the front office. Behind the desk, a young kid with black-framed glasses, spiky hair, and a lip ring gave him a baleful look.

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