Free The Gunny & The Jazz Singer (Birchwood Falls #1) by Jane Leopold Quinn Page A

me."
    She nodded. "Oh, sure. Falls
River Diner. That's a good place." It was named "diner" but was
really an elegant white-tablecloth restaurant with a gorgeous view of the
rapids where the waterfall met the river. Drawing in a shaky breath, she
stiffened when his fingers brushed against her shoulder.
    "Here," he murmured. "A
strand is loose." He played with it for a moment, winding it around his
forefinger, his gaze on her face.
    Her breath caught and warmth washed
over her from her breasts to her cheeks. She had to laugh at herself. Any woman
would die for this guy. Amazingly built, tall, hair obviously growing out from
a military cut. She didn't care for long-haired dudes so he was good. His face
exuded masculinity. He had shoulders that would hold up the earth, arms that could
hold and protect a woman.
    Stop
it! I don't need protecting.
    They settled in at a table
overlooking the river, at the point where rough-edged rocks caused the rapids. "I'm
sure you've been here before. What do you recommend?"
    "The food's good especially
the homemade soups and breads. What do you like?"
    "I know what I like, but it's
been a long time since I've been in a nice place with something other than MREs
to eat."
    "I think we can find you
something better than that here."
    They studied their menus in silence
for a while.
    He put his down on the tablecloth. "Where
are you from? I would have remembered if you'd grown up here."
    "I moved here a year ago from
Parkersburg."
    "What brought you here?"
    "I got a job singing at
Marietty's. It was a chance to get some experience and move my career along."
    "Well, you're really good."
His gaze softened with admiration.
    "Thanks. It's been my dream
ever since I can remember. I don't plan to stay here much longer though." Keep warning him. And yourself.
    The waiter arrived with water and
rolls. They ordered drinks—a vodka tonic for her, and beer for him.
    "You don't like B Falls?"
    "It's a wonderful town but a
dead-end for me. I want to record and tour. That means New York or Los Angeles."
    "You're amazing. I can't see
why an agent wouldn't grab you up." Her hand lay on the table. His large,
warm one covered it, his eyes gleaming in the dim light of the restaurant.
    She had a lot of support from her
friends and the audiences cheered her on, but he'd only heard her sing once. A
little voice poked at the back of her mind. He
might like your singing, but it's your body he's after. Don't fall for him.
    She slipped her hand out from under
his and fiddled with her napkin. "I'll make it one of these days. It only
takes one phone call." She changed the subject. "What brings you back
to town now?"
    "Unfinished business."
    That
was brusque. "Personal business?"
    "Didn't Butch or your friends
tell you about me?"
    She glanced down, taken aback by
his bitter tone. Lifting a shoulder, she responded, "I think something terribly
sad happened to you."
    "Some other time." His
voice was a low growl.
    This time she reached for his hand
and rubbed the back of it in sympathy. "Okay."
    Resting his elbow on the table, he
quirked a smile. "Away from the stage you're not the same person."
    She stifled a giggle. "No
kidding. Performers usually aren't. It's called acting. Why? What did you think
I was like?"
    His eyes twinkled with humor. "Answering
that question would be like approaching an IED."
    "That dangerous, huh?"
she responded softly. "Are you a career Marine?"
    "No but technically once a
Marine, always a Marine."
    The entrees arrived. After a few
bites, she continued, "There's no age limit?"
    "Not really and I'm not that
old." He huffed a laugh.
    "Oh no, I wasn't saying you
were. How old are you?"
    "Old enough to want to kiss
you again."
    "Oh, shit!" She flinched,
her eyes closing in alarm.
    "Pardon me?" His head
bucked back, and his sensual expression disappeared.
    Damn
it. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean you. Don't turn around." Butch had
just come into the dining room from the kitchen, of all places.
    "You can't say 'don't