Cathie Linz - The Marine And Me

She had to remind herself that this was a man accustomed to seducing women. Not that Wanda had exactly put it like that, but she’d said how “popular Steve is with the ladies.” Chloe could tell that much on her own. Steve possessed the same kind of inherent confidence that Brad had. And he was even better looking than Brad. Not a good mix.

“Shouldn’t you be getting back to your grandmother’s house?” she said.

“Not until I get some answers. You still haven’t told me why you deliberately tried to deceive me.”

“That’s rather egotistical of you. Assuming that everything revolves around you. That my behavior was a result of you.”

“Wasn’t it?”

His directness rattled her. So did the ease with which he made himself at home in her domain. He should have looked like a bull in a china shop. But he didn’t. He fit in.

No, stop that thought right there! Delete, delete, delete. Maybe if she answered his question, he’d leave. “Look, suffice it to say that you’re not the only one Wanda practices her matchmaking on.”

“Meaning?”

“Your grandmother is a sweetie, but she’s been raving about you for weeks. And when you suddenly decided to visit her during your leave, she was over the moon. She was also intent on my meeting you.”

“And your objection to that was…?”

“As I said earlier, I know your type.” She still stood, her hands gripping the back of the oak kitchen chair as if doing so would prevent her from something she might later regret. Grabbing him or tossing him out—she couldn’t be sure.

“What type would that be?”

“A player. And having just been through a bad experience with a man who informs me that it isn’t natural for a man to settle for just one woman, I wasn’t interested in being played, okay?”

To her surprise, his expression turned serious. “Okay. I can understand that. I just came off a bad experience myself. Which is why I got so upset about you conning me.”

“That’s not the way I’d describe it.”

“That’s how I viewed it. You wore those clothes to keep me at bay.”

“You’re only interested in me now because you think I look prettier than I did last night.” There, she’d said it.

“I tried to get to know you last night, but you weren’t cooperating.”

“You were just taking pity on the frumpy girl,” Chloe retorted. “You didn’t really mean it.” This was a sore point for her. “I’ve already been dumped by a guy who I thought was interested in me, only to find that he was merely biding his time until a prettier woman came along.”

“Ah, betrayal. That’s something we have in common,” Steve said. “Bad luck in the romance department.”

She eyed him suspiciously. “I find it hard to believe that you’ve got bad luck that way.”

“Believe it.”

“That’s not what your grandmother thinks. She never mentioned anything about bad luck.”

“She doesn’t know everything, although she’d like me to think she does.”

The devil on her right shoulder warned her that Steve could be conning her, trying to gain her sympathy. “Your grandmother is a wise woman.”

“And a stubborn one. She’s not going to give up on getting us together, you know.”

“That doesn’t mean we have to do anything about it.”

“Trust me, my grandmother has a way of wearing you down,” Steve noted.

“And I suppose you have a plan to counter that?”

“Of course.”

“First tell me about the woman who betrayed you.”

It was a test. She half expected him to toss off her request with some slick response. When he hesitated, she added, “I told you what went wrong with my relationship.”

“Yeah, you were going with a jerk.”

That stung, indicating that her judgment where men were concerned was faulty. Which might be true, but she sure didn’t appreciate him pointing out that fact. “Don’t you have someplace else you need to be right now?”

“No. You asked me a question, and I’m going to answer it. Want some more coffee?”

“I can get it myself.”

“I’m sure you can.”

“And I suppose you’d like me to pour you some more coffee while I’m at it?”

“If you do, I’ll share these with you….” He held up a bag from a local bakery.

“Where did those come from?”

He read the side of the bag. “The Busy Bee Bakery.”

“I meant how did they get here?”

“I brought them.”

“When?”

“This morning.”

“You’re telling me you went to the bakery in the fifteen minutes I took to get dressed?”

“No.”

She tried not to grit her teeth in frustration. “Are you always this exasperating?”

“No, I can be much worse.”

“That’s great to hear.”

He held up the bag and waggled it. “So, do you want some or not?”

“What’s in the bag?”

If he’d said a chocolate éclair, she could have resisted the temptation. But when he said, “Brownies,” she knew she was a goner.

“Are you interested?” he said.

“An even trade. A refill on your coffee for a brownie.”

“Works for me.”

She loosened her grip on the chair and busied herself getting plates out of the kitchen cupboard before taking the coffeepot over to the table to refill his mug. “I still don’t know how you got these here.” She pointed to the bag of brownies.

“I carried them.”

“When? And don’t tell me this morning unless you’re ready to suffer the consequences.”

“I had them in my hand when I first arrived, but when you reached for me…”

“I was reaching for the paper!” she corrected him.

“I dropped them on your front porch.” He peered inside the bag. “Luckily they didn’t suffer from that little mishap.”

“And you retrieved them from my porch while I was getting dressed?”

“That’s right. Are you always this intent on solving mysteries?”

“I like things to be in order.”

“Marines like order, too. See, that’s something else we have in common.”

Chloe wasn’t so easily convinced. “Before you distracted me with decadent baked goods, you were going to tell me about this romantic bad luck you had.”

Steve wasn’t sure what to say, which wasn’t unusual for him. Confiding had never been his thing. And telling her about Gina meant telling her about his inheritance.

Who was he kidding here? His grandmother had probably already told Chloe about the money.

Was that why Chloe had acted the way she had? Was this all an elaborate hoax to get his attention by pretending to avoid it?

He couldn’t help being suspicious, given his recent track record where females were concerned.

Then his logical side reminded him that he had no intention of falling for Chloe. There was no danger of that. Sure he was a bit intrigued by her, but he was only here in Chicago for a short period of time during his leave.

Not telling her would mean he was afraid to. So he bit the bullet and started talking. Reluctantly. In his own way and in his own time. “Well, you’ve probably heard the sad story before—poor guy inherits money and a beautiful woman cons him into thinking she’s in love with him when all she really wants is access to his bank account.”

“Were you in love with her?”

Love. That four-letter word that had ended up sucker punching him without warning. “I thought I was.”

“How do you know she was only interested in your money?”

“I don’t tell many people about it. I’m assuming my grandmother told you, right?”

Chloe nodded before hurriedly assuring him, “Believe me, I’m not interested in your bank account.”

“You’d hardly tell me you were, now would you?”