he said, “And this is a grappling hook launcher,” she shook her head.
“Ben. Why?”
“It’s a habit I picked up over the years. You never know when you’ll need it.”
“But a grappling hook launcher?”
He chuckled. “Pizza’s here. Let’s eat and I’ll tell you the story of how that grappling hook saved a groom from a mad woman.”
The next day, Holly sat in a lifeguard stand on Coronado Beach watching surfers take advantage of the waves before the beach closed to surfers on Monday. If she had a dime for every day she’d skipped school to surf, she’d have a nice nest egg right now.
The memory of all the rides brought a smile to her face. It’d been years since she’d taken her board out of storage. She’d planned on teaching Katie to surf, but after Steve’s death, the years passed and she never did. As much as her daughter loved coming to the beach, she’d always had a healthy respect for the waves and the dangerous undertow. But now, Holly wondered if she’d put that fear into Katie.
Steve’s death had made Holly hyperaware of how quickly life can be snuffed out. Even though she’d given Katie swim lessons, and her daughter swam like a fish in their pool, had Holly in some way instilled a fear of the ocean?
Being a summer lifeguard for so long, Holly had witnessed plenty of near drownings and accidents. And yes, she’d warned her daughter about those, but had she gone too far? Maybe it was time to teach her daughter how to surf, or better yet, get someone else to teach her.
An image of icy-blue eyes formed in her head. She’d seen Ben surf and his moves on the waves rivaled his moves in the bed.
The smile at the memory of high school antics broaden as the memories from last night presented front and center. No wonder those women from the beach had flirted with him. He was an orgasm artist in the bedroom, and she was damned sure she wanted more of him before they parted after her brother’s wedding.
Chapter Seven
Benjamin didn’t want to strip his sheets and wash them, even if that was his routine when he was home. Right now, they smelled like sex and Holly, especially Holly.
He jerked the sheets off the bed. Damn, he hated that he was such a creature of routine and habit. But that’s what’d saved his life on many deployments…muscle memory and routine. And while this wasn’t the same, he was superstitious enough to not break procedures.
Last night, Holly had invited him to go with her to her parents’ house for Memorial Day dinner, expect it was on Sunday and not Monday. Her brothers were on duty on Monday, so her folks were having everyone over a day early. He’d agreed, and then had done something he’d never done before. He’d invited her to go with him to his team’s Memorial Day cookout at their CO’s house.
Every year, their Commanding Officer held a cookout at his house. While he always assured the guys their attendance wasn’t mandatory, of course it was. The team called it a “mandatory good time.”
Benjamin never brought a date to one of these events. The guys brought girlfriends and wives, but rarely did anyone bring an outsider, i.e., someone not intimately familiar with the team members…Well, except for Eric. The Viking was still working his way through a roster of women. Benjamin would put money on Eric finding himself in deep water one day.
This year would be different, at least for Benjamin. He hadn’t meant to invite her. He hadn’t given any thought to inviting her, but the words had come from his mouth without his brain being engaged. He probably should be concerned about his team’s reaction to Holly, but after he’d introduced her to Eric at McP’s, he had to assume every one of his guys had heard that C-Note had a girlfriend. And even stranger still was the fact he didn’t care. He liked Holly, enjoyed being with her. She might even make one of these mandatory parties tolerable.
That evening, a text bonged his cell phone. Holly Maxwell flashed on his screen and he couldn’t stop the smile.
You up?
He chuckled.
It’s seven p.m. Even us old guys can stay up until eight.
I’m fully aware of how you can stay up. [Smiling emoji]
Tell me your daughter is not home and I can be there in fifteen minutes. Or you can be here in fifteen minutes and I’ll show you how long