Page 98 of Faking it with the Green Beret

“That’s always a good sign.”

“True.” Her sister hadn’t liked Adam. John had already won over Ariana, Wren, and Jillian.

“Are you free Monday night so I can take you on a real date? I like you being here, but working on my house isn’t a date, and I want to do this right. How about a fancy dinner out?”

“How about someplace not fancy and pretentious? Someplace casual, with good food, where we can sit and talk as long as we want.”

“If that’s what you want, that’s what we’ll do.”

“It is.” He didn’t need to impress her. Expensive meals had never been her thing. She was impressed with how he listened to what she wanted. That was a quality she could get used to. “I’ll still wear something nice.” She winked.

The way he raised his eyebrows made her laugh. He moved in to kiss her. Surprisingly, he tasted like mint. It clicked that only Nate had a beer when they’d joined the guys in the kitchen. John had brushed his teeth after she said she didn’t like the taste of beer. This man constantly surprised her. She tested herself, pressing her body to his.

He kissed her harder. His highly aroused state could be a reaction to any woman, but it felt good, though still more than a little scary. Therapy was working, but John played a big role. It was better not to take things too far too fast, for her sake and in fairness to him.

He kept his hands on her hips rather than grab or grind or grope as they continued to kiss. Her body aroused like it hadn’t been in years. Her heart rate climbed, and her breathing faltered.

Almost immediately, John ended the kiss and put a sliver of space between their bodies. “You okay?”

She nodded. “Better than okay, but . . .”

“We need to slow this roll a little?”

She fanned her face. “I forgot how fantastic kissing could feel.” Especially the way John kissed her. She doubted his talents ended there.

“Amen to that. Your kind of kisses are addictive. But I’m going to send you on your way wanting more, not giving you second thoughts. I do not want to screw this up.”

She definitely wanted more. “What time?” They headed to the door.

“Around nine. Nate’s a civilian now. I also don’t want to piss off my neighbors by waking them up at oh-six hundred with construction noise. Boss, you need to go out?” Boss scrambled over. “Thanks for bringing his toy and coming here. I was giving you time and space so I didn’t push you away for good, but I hadn’t given up on us. I knew it had to be your decision to face your past and choose what you want for your future.” He raised a hand to her face, his thumb stroking her cheek. “I’m so freaking glad you’re here and taking a chance.”

His face blurred due to the tears in her eyes. “Me too. Thank you for waiting.” For understanding. They needed to take this one slow step at a time, but she now had hope of restoring a piece of her she’d feared she’d never get back.

ChapterFifty-Three

WHO YOU LOVE – John Mayer

“You knowwhere we’re going, don’t ya, boy?” They weren’t quite to Elizabeth’s house, but Boss recognized the route or familiar smells from the neighboring farm and couldn’t sit still. John was as excited to see her as Boss.

They’d had time together Sunday when Elizabeth helped Cecilia with landscaping. Monday had been their first real date, and they’d talked for nearly two-and-a-half hours over dinner. He couldn’t recall ever spending that much time talking with a woman. His buddies, sure, but this had been girlfriend-to-boyfriend talk with romantic undertones, looks and touches, and some making out in the parking lot. Taking it slow.

Tuesday night, after the guy came to measure and make the template for his countertops, John spent the rest of the evening digging holes for new shrubs. He’d called Elizabeth, and they’d talked for nearly an hour again.

Wednesday, he’d offered to pick up some ice cream and come over for a bit, except Elizabeth had been helping The Oasis’s newest resident apply for jobs. Two days apart was akin to torture, though he doubted it violated any of the protocols of the Geneva Convention. They’d had dinner again Thursday night. Though he didn’t get an invite to join the ladies for last night’s monthly potluck, things were progressing even better than he’d hoped.

Today, he looked forward to an afternoon and evening with his girl and his dog. And seeing if they could make it another step further after Elizabeth’s EMDR session this week. Meeting at the restaurants kept things safe, but it had been her idea for him to come to her house tonight for privacy.

Before John’s feet hit the dirt, Boss bolted out of the truck and was at Elizabeth’s front door, forcing John to wait for a kiss. “He’s jealous I saw you this week without him.” John moved in for his turn. He slipped an arm around her, pulling her close and inhaling her sweet floral scent. He wanted to find out where all she’d dabbed it. “I missed you. How’d the group dinner go last night?”

“It was a little rough.”

“Oh?” After the dinner he’d experienced, her answer wasn’t what he expected.

“It didn’t occur to me that when I told Mayala the dinner was a potluck and asked her to bring an appetizer that she thought she was there to serve us. When I asked her to join us at the table, she started crying. In the two years she was with the family that sponsored her to come to the US, they never once had her join them for a family meal. She ate with the kids as she was feeding them breakfast or lunch, but she’d fix dinner and eat in the kitchen alone.”

“They saw her as a servant, not part of the family,” he deduced.

“Definitely. They worked her thirteen-hour days, cooking, cleaning, and caring for three kids and a grandparent with dementia. They didn’t technically ‘buy’ her, but they covered her way here and only paid her about two bucks an hour. She shared a bedroom with the grandmother and had no money and no family or friends here. She had no self-worth or hope for anything better. Last night, seeing that flicker of life turn on . . .” Elizabeth brushed away a tear.

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