Debbie Macomber - Navy Brat

“I can’t.” Erin tucked her stapler and several pens neatly inside her desk drawer. “As far as I’m concerned, this evening is going to be a total waste of time.” She could be doing something important, like…like laundry or answering mail. It was just her luck that Brand had suggested Wednesday night. Tuesday was the first class for the new session for the Women In Transition course. Thursday night was the second session. Naturally, Brand had chosen to ask her out the one night of the week when she was free.

“You’re so tense,” Aimee chastised. “You might as well be walking around in a suit of armor.”

“I’ll be okay,” Erin said, not listening to her fellow worker. She stood and planted her hands against the side of her desk before sighing heavily. “This is what I’m going to do. I’ll meet him just the way we arranged.”

“That’s a good start,” Aimee teased.

“We’ll find a restaurant, and I’ll order right away, eat and then make my excuses as soon as I can. I don’t want to insult him, but at the same time I want him to understand I regret ever having agreed to this date.” She waited for a response. When Aimee didn’t give her one, she arched her brows expectantly. “Well?”

“It sounds good to me.” But the look Aimee gave her said otherwise.

It was amazing how much a person could say with a look. Erin didn’t want to take the time to dwell on the fact, especially now, when she was thinking about the messages she’d given Brand the night he’d kissed her. Apparently she’d encouraged him enough to ask her out to dinner a second time.

Erin didn’t want to dwell on that night. It embarrassed her to think about the way she’d responded so openly to his touch. Her face grew hot just remembering. She shouldn’t think about it—she was running late as it was. Reaching for her purse, she checked her watch and hurried toward the elevator.

“Don’t get started in the morning until we’ve had a chance to talk,” Aimee called out after her.

They generally clocked in at eight, reviewed files and then spent a large portion of the day with job applicants or meeting with prospective employers. Sometimes she wasn’t back in the office until after four.

“I won’t,” Erin promised without looking back. Walking briskly, she raised her hand in farewell.

“Have a good time,” Aimee called out in a provocative, teasing tone that attracted the notice of their peers.

This time Erin did turn back to discover her coworker sitting on the edge of her desk, her arms folded, one leg swinging. A mischievous grin brightened her round, cheerful face.

But Erin wasn’t counting on this evening being much fun.

Once outside the revolving glass door of the tall office complex, Erin paused and glanced around. Brand had said he’d be waiting for her there. She didn’t see him right away, and she was beginning to think he wasn’t going to show.

It must have been wishful thinking on her part, because no sooner had the thought entered her mind than he stepped away from the building and sauntered toward her.

His gaze found hers, and Erin was struck afresh by what a devilishly handsome man Brandon Davis was. If she wasn’t careful, she might find herself attracted to him. She wasn’t immune to good looks and charm, and they seemed to ooze from every pore of his muscular body.

“Hi,” she greeted stiffly. Her defenses were in place as she deliberately kept her eyes trained away from his smile. It was compelling enough to dazzle the most stouthearted. Erin hadn’t had enough experience with the opposite sex to build up a resistance to a man like Brand.

“I wasn’t sure you’d show,” he said when he reached her side.

“I wasn’t sure I would, either.” That was stretching the truth. She was a navy brat. Responsibility, promptness and duty had been programmed into her the way most children were taught to brush their teeth and make their beds. No one could live on a military base and not be affected by the value system promoted there.

“I’m glad you did decide to meet me.” His eyes were warm and genuine, and she hurriedly looked away before she could be affected by them.

“Where would you like to eat?” To Erin’s way of thinking, the sooner they arrived at the restaurant, the sooner she could leave. She wanted this evening to be cut-and-dried, without a lot of room for discussion.

“Ever been to Joe’s Grill?”

Erin’s gaze widened with delight. “Yes, as a matter of fact, I have, but it’s been years.” Since she was ten by her best guess. Her father had been stationed at Sand Point, and whenever there was something to celebrate he’d taken the family out to eat at Joe’s. Generally restaurants weren’t something a child would remember, but it seemed her family had a special place in each of the cities where they’d been stationed through the years. Joe’s Grill had been their Seattle favorite.

“I asked around and heard the food there is great,” Brand said, placing his hand at her elbow.

She felt his touch, and although it was light and impersonal it still affected her. “You mean the guys from Sand Point still eat there?”

“Apparently so.”

A flood of happy memories filled Erin’s mind. For her tenth birthday, Joe himself had baked her a double-decker chocolate cake. She could still remember him proudly carrying it out of the kitchen as if he’d been asked to give away the bride. Visiting the restaurant had crossed her mind half a dozen times since she’d moved to Seattle, but with her hectic schedule she hadn’t gotten around to it.

“Joe’s Grill,” she repeated, fighting the strong desire to fill in the details about her birthday and the cake to Brand. Her eyes met his, and mutual smiles emerged, despite Erin’s attempts to the contrary. She had to keep her head out of the clouds when it came to dealing with this handsome lieutenant j.g. Reminding herself of that was apparently something that was going to be necessary all evening.

Brand’s car was parked on a side street. He held open the passenger door for her and gently closed it once she was inside.

He did most of the talking as he drove to the restaurant. Every once in a while Erin would feel herself start to relax in his company, a sure sign she was headed for trouble. She’d give herself a hard mental shake and instantly put herself back on track.

When Brand eased the vehicle into Joe’s crowded parking lot, Erin looked around her and nearly drowned in nostalgia. She swore the restaurant hadn’t changed in nearly twenty years. The same neon sign flashed from above the flat-topped roof, with a huge T-bone steak lit up in red and Joe’s Grill flashing off and on every two seconds.

“As I recall, the steaks here are so thick they resemble roasts, and the baked potatoes were larger than a boxer’s fist.” She was confident that was an exaggeration, but in her ten-year-old mind that was the way it seemed.

“That’s what my friend said,” Brand said, climbing out of the car.

The inside was much as Erin remembered. A huge fish tank built into the wall was filled with a wide variety of colorful saltwater fish. The cash register rested on top of a large glass display case full of tempting candy and gum. Erin never had understood why a restaurant that served wonderful meals would want to sell candy to its customers afterward.

The hostess escorted them to a table by a picture window that revealed a breath-taking panorama of Lake Union.

Erin didn’t open her menu right away. Instead, she looked around, soaking up the ambience, feeling as if she were a kid all over again.

“This reminds me of a little place on Guam,” Brand said, his gaze following hers. “The tables have the same red tablecloths under a glass covering.”