If that happens, it’ll be Arnie’s face and not mine that gets punched. And he’ll bitch to me about it, which is all good for me. One way or the other, at least I’ll know where she is.
Arnie took a long swig from his own beer and seemed to be lost in thought. Bryce had never had any indication that Arnie was very good at thinking. But it was easy to just act as if he wasn’t eager for his former fellow soldier to do him this solid.
“Yeah, I could do that. I got weekends off in my new job.” Arnie shrugged. “And I have some buds in San Antonio I’ve been meaning to look up anyway, so it wouldn’t be a problem.”
“And you’ll let me know if she’s there, or if not, where she is?” Bryce smirked. “That way, I can get me some of that ‘closure’ the pussies all talk about on TV.”
“Sure, Bryce. Don’t you worry one bit. Like I said earlier, I owe you. And I’m going to do all I can to help you get your closure. It’s the least I can do for a pal from the army.”
He wondered for just a second about the look on Arnie’s face. But since he’d long ago decided his old pal didn’t have any real deep thoughts, he brushed aside the concern.
Instead, he thought about just what all closure with Leesa could entail. He felt his lips stretch and decided to just let Arnie think about the expression on his face. And he hoped that expression scared his ol’ bud, just a little bit.
* * * *
Though she’d never gone on one, Leesa had learned, by listening and keeping her senses honed, how to plan a mission.
As she looked down at the covered dish in her hands, she wondered if she was being completely lame, or not. In her belly, butterflies fluttered, threatening to upset the lunch she’d had a few hours before. What she knew about making a pass, a move, whatever the hell you called it, could be written on a Post-it Note, with room to spare for a recipe.
She almost changed her mind. Twice. The first time was in her own kitchen, when she pulled the casserole out of the oven. A Tex-Mex beef and rice casserole, the dish was one of her mother’s go-to dishes, something she’d whip together if company was expected. It was also one of Leesa’s favorites. She’d caught a slightly distorted reflection of herself on one of the glass cupboard doors and thought, what the hell do I think I’m doing?
She was no female bombshell, no skinny, simpering blonde with lily-white skin and sparkly blue eyes. She had curves. Her hair was brown, shoulder length but not professionally styled, her eyes were brown, and she could bench press her own weight and then some.
But there was that tug in the belly when she thought of either Jason or Phillip Benedict, and especially when she thought of them both. And there was the sense that, if she didn’t at least try to make this move, she’d regret it for the rest of her life.
So she showered and did her best to make herself look—hell, who was she kidding? Gorgeous was out of the question. The best she could hope for was presentable, and that would have to be good enough.
Leesa never usually went beyond a bit of mascara and some lipstick, so that was what she did. Khaki green shorts, white tee shirt, and yeah, that was as good as it would ever get. She didn’t let any negative thoughts even form as she grabbed the casserole that she’d set in a small box and headed out the door.
Only to pull her car to the curb a couple doors down from where those two New York Benedicts currently lived. They’d traded in the one rental car for two that belonged to the family, and both vehicles were in the driveway. Unless they had gone somewhere on foot, both men were there.
They’re not here for the long haul. They’re only visiting so that means they will leave. There could be no happy-ever-after unless you pull your roots out of Texas and head up north with them.
All true. But even knowing that, there was still that tug in the belly.
Leesa blinked. Yes, that tug in the belly and that hungry, burning attraction she knew wasn’t one sided. She wasn’t looking for a happy-ever-after.
She wanted to explore the now, the moment, and maybe there would be pain after, but she’d never experienced the kind of heat others spoke of. Not even when she’d been a newlywed.
Hers had been a marriage of logic, a communion of the brain, not the heart and sure as hell not the libido. Oh, she’d been attracted to Bryce, but the sex between them had never been remarkable.
So maybe if she didn’t chicken out, if she could just grab hold of her nerves, she could see what all the fuss was about. At least she’d be able to have a sample of what all she’d missed.
She couldn’t live in Lusty Texas and not come to the conclusion that she’d missed plenty.
Enough of this shit. Move it, Sarge!
Leesa pulled her car out onto the neat little street, drove a few hundred feet, and then pulled into the driveway.
Just do
