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

turn
around' to a military man." He looked over his shoulder. "Are you
talking about Butch?"
    "Yes."
    "Are you dating him?"
    "Not any longer." Butch
walked over to the bar, turned, and just stood there watching them, creeping
her out.
    "Do you want to leave?"
    She heard the raw anger in his
voice. "No. I can have dinner wherever I want with whomever I want."
    "I take it he wasn't happy
with the breakup." Marc sliced a piece of his steak and chewed.
    She shook her head. Still steaming
angry herself, she bit back a comment about Butch's parentage and tried to
continue eating her own meal. Marc had moved his chair subtly, and she noticed
his eyes switching from her to Butch to his plate. It didn't look like he was
intimidated in the least, which was what Butch was undoubtedly going for.
    Giving a little huffing laugh, she
realized Marc wasn't the type of man to be intimidated by anyone. "No. We'd
only gone out twice. He was acting weird and possessive."
    "I can understand his
attraction to you."
    Her heart fluttered when her gaze
clung to his sparkling eyes and admiring grin. Oh yes, attraction… "You knew him in school, didn't you?" Right. We're talking about Butch. "Was
he always an officious little prick?"
    He responded, his voice cold, "Oh
yeah. His father was rich and buying up land in town."
    "He owns the resort."
    "Yeah," he replied
bitterly.
    The waiter approached, removed
their plates, and asked if they were interested in dessert. Neither was so Marc
paid the check. Butch was still at the bar when they left. They strolled to the
bridge overlooking the river and leaned on the railing, watching the dark water
race beneath their feet. Actually, in the darkness of the summer sky they could
only hear it rustling along fast from the falls.
    "All this water is such a
luxury compared to…"
    "Is it really as desolate and
dirty over there as it looks on TV?"
    "More. You can't imagine."
He shrugged dismissively.
    "And you're constantly in fear
of gunfire?" In the streetlight, she was able to watch his expression. If
he had enough nerve to fight, she should have enough to talk about it.
    "Pretty much."
    "Do my questions bother you?"
    "No. I'd just rather think
about you right now. About us. It'll be time soon enough for me to go back."
    Thinking it might be good to
lighten things up, she turned and leaned back on the railing. "So what did
you really think I was like? Glamorous? Super-talented? What?" She teased
him lightly.
    "Of course. All of the above."
He bent near, sliding a palm around her neck, and fingered a long strand of
hair lying on her shoulder loosened from her ponytail.
    Her eyes fell closed at the feel of
his fingers on her skin. She was losing the battle of admitting to herself how
exciting he was, how attracted she was to him. His fingers crept upward one by
one as he cupped her head. She opened her eyes. His were slits, his lips
parted. They were nice lips. Very nice.
    Pull
back.
    Too
late. He brushed her mouth. Once across one way. Back again the other.
Waiting for her response?
    Placing her palms on his muscular
chest brought her closer. He tugged her against the heat of his body. She
melted into his embrace, as protective as she'd imagined. And as she'd feared.
    Keep
this easy. Casual. Keep it in perspect—
    He re-angled his mouth as a harsh
breath bathed her face, and his kiss turned deep. Consumingly, disconcertingly
deep.
    She curled her fingers into the
cool, crisp cotton of his shirt. The wall of his chest felt as hard as an
in-shape Marine's should. Her palms roamed of their own accord, exploring the
curved pectorals, brushing tentative fingertips over erect nipples. She could
feel his low, responsive growl in her own chest, flattened against him as she
was, chest to muscular thigh.
    He commanded more from her, his
tongue sweeping inside her mouth, thrusting and circling.
    Answering him, she suckled his
tongue, felt him widen his stance, tighten his arms around her. She slid her
arms over his shoulders