What Part of Marine Don't You Understand - By Heather Long Page 0,19

he wanted to go.

“No, you’re exactly the kind of distraction I need.” Did she dare tell him? Oh, what the hell. He deserved to know. “You inspire me.”

Surprise rippled across his face. “I do?”

“Oh yeah. I even wrote a song about you last night….”

Wariness creased his brow. “Oh?”

Grinning, she started playing. If only performing in front of the world was as easy as singing for Matt. By the second refrain, he relaxed and by the last he laughed. The song detailed their kiss and exposed her vulnerability, her growing affection for him laid bare in every note. When the song ended, she held her breath and waited.

Matt leaned forward, rested a hand atop hers and brushed her mouth with the lightest, sweetest, and most heart-wrenching kiss. “Thank you.”

Her pulse jackrabbited. “You’re welcome.”

The bubble of tension wrapped around them burst with his slow grin. “No, I mean it. Thank you.”

“I didn’t do anything—I completely blame you for the song. You knocked on the door.”

He chuckled. “You opened it.”

“But you kissed me….”

Slanting his mouth across hers, he silenced any further words. He brushed his thumb across her knuckles, sending tingles racing across her nerves until she hummed like a guitar strung too tight. Every time she thought the kiss would end, he tilted his head to the other side and darted his tongue in and out, teasing her.

Nose to nose, he finally let her come up for air. “You kissed me back.”

“Yeah.” She laughed. “You kissed me again.”

“I did.” He nodded, brushing their noses together, whispering another kiss on her cheek and again to the corner of her eye. “You don’t mind, do you?”

Her laughter rode on a shuddering breath. “No, not at all.”

Catching her guitar, he pulled it away and then she straddled his lap, arms wrapped around his neck. He kissed her with a singular intensity and the whole world faded—until a cold nose pressed against her belly and she jerked. Somehow her shirt had ridden up. Glancing down, they laughed at Jethro, who stared back with bright curiosity in his dark eyes, his tail thumping.

“Hmm…I should be writing….”

Matt curled a lock of her hair around his finger. “I’ll help.”

“Yeah?” She lifted her eyebrows. Music was the last thing on her mind.

“Uh huh.” He kissed the soft spot behind her ear and need bubbled through her. “I’m trying to inspire you….”

And how….

Chapter Seven

Watching her create music and songs from scratch amazed him. Matt left her composing and jogged with Jethro to the mess for sandwiches, chips, and soda. They ate and she wrote some more. The process—her process—defied description. She strummed notes, played them over and over while she hummed to them, then jotted them on paper. Eventually she added words.

Her last composition became a personal favorite. They walked, side by side and he insisted on carrying her guitar. The sun set. Hungry, he offered to order pizza for both of them, but she suggested Chinese. He called while she packed up her music.

“So what happens next?” Jethro trotted to his right while she walked on his left.

Naomi smothered a yawn. “Sorry, um….” Her game smile waffled between embarrassment and shyness. “I will swing by Captain Dexter’s office in the morning and borrow their scanner so I can scan it in and send it over to my producer. He’s already got the early sheets. The backup players he has will have a day or so to familiarize themselves with the music before I get there and then I fly in, rent a car, drive to the studio and sing. Hopefully they let me play, too. But that’s not a guarantee.”

At her door, she held up her keys and unlocked it. He nodded his approval. Unclipping Jethro’s leash, he set her guitar on the floor. She walked into the kitchen and got a bowl of water and a small bag of food. “I picked this up this morning—it’s what you said he ate, right?”

Pleased that she remembered, he grinned. “Yes, that’s exactly what I said he ate.” She filled the bowl and Jethro dug in eagerly then slurped water. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. I like him.” She slid off her shoes and picked them up. “Almost as much as I like you.” With a wink, she waved him to the sofa. “Make yourself comfortable. I want to change.”

He slid his hands into his pockets and stared after her. The urge to follow her into the bedroom and pick up where their kisses in the park left off raged through him. He’d canceled