Operation Love Read online

  An elbow nudged her. She glanced to the left, and saw Mrs. Peterson’s frowning face of reprimand. Wrinkled and leathery, the principal had graying hair and thick-framed glasses. She always wore too much thick, sticky looking pink lipstick, but no eye makeup. An odd combination to go with her daily plaid dresses. Truth be told, Mrs. Peterson did her best to look like a school marm, but in the end she made herself look older and peculiar.

  “You’re setting a bad example,” she hissed in a whisper. Her lips clicked with a tsk-tsk. “The children look up to you. Sit still, hands in your lap.”

  Cheese and crackers! She wanted to tell her they were not children, but teenagers. She wanted to tell her if she wanted to set an example to wipe off that ugly lipstick. She wanted to tell her to screw off. Instead Lily bit her tongue, her mind blinking to Daisy. She’d have set Mrs. Peterson’s head whirling. If only she were here.

  How in the hell had she got stuck sitting next to the principal for the whole assembly anyway? Why did these things happen to her?

  Slap fate.

  She hadn’t ever planned to teach at a private school. She didn't even know why she had applied here. Originally, she had gone to school to be a chef. Her dream had been to cook at a fancy restaurant in New York City. Maybe even own one sometime in the far future.

  But when the counselor at her culinary school had presented her with this job opportunity, she couldn’t say no. In New York, she’d have to work her way up to being a chef, slowly, painstakingly.

  In the end, it had been numbers, and nothing more, that had planted her in Houston. Not that she wasn't happy. She loved her life and the kids, too.

  The only thing missing was a husband. She hadn't met a man yet that she found attractive that wasn't in a uniform.

  Slap fate.

  A sudden uproar of applause snapped her from her thinking. She jerked her head up towards the stage. Damn. She had missed the big announcement. Hunter now stood behind the podium, his face beaming. His black eyes darted towards her, landing on her with a look that shocked her. His gaze was hungry, the need and want crystal clear. He was looking at her like a tiger looks at its prey. Like a man looks at a woman.

  Everything in her froze. For a moment their gazes locked. Her insides trembled as she wondered if anyone else saw. If Mrs. Peterson saw.

  Then he tore his gaze away and directed his attention to the crowd of teenage students. “Thank you. I’m proud to be standing here before you today, an astronaut candidate. As my students, this will be an incredible learning experience for you. But above and beyond all else, it should teach you there are no limits to what you can do. It does not matter where you come from, only who you are.” He paused, letting those words sink in. “Now let me tell you a little bit more about what I’ll be doing. My training starts this summer…”

  She watched him, not really hearing his words, but hearing the happiness in them. He must have changed his clothes during the last period, because he now wore his Marine Corps Reserve dress uniform. His dress blues, trimmed in white and red, were a sight to behold. Each gold button was emblazoned with the military insignia, and his shoulders bore his many badges, including those from when he was enlisted as a Weather Service Officer. His hat was white, with the emblem of an anchor. He looked so handsome, so strong, so proud.

  And he should be. He had every right to be. Cheese and crackers! He’d worked so hard for this. Overcame so much.

  And yesterday she’d been so negative. Mean even. Hell, she’d felt bad about it then. But suddenly, a terrible, rather guilty emotion took over. A knot formed in her throat. So she worried, so what? That was her problem. She’d had no right to be so unsupportive of him. No right at all.

  As the assembly came to an end, she made her decision. She was going to apologize and take him out to celebrate. And she would not, no matter what, say another negative word about his accomplishment.

  As loud applause echoed off the auditorium walls, Lily joined the many clappers, whoopers and cheerers in their appraisal of Hunter. When the noise finally died down, and the students began to exit, she made her way to the stage.

  Hunter caught her eye and smiled wide enough to produce those damn dimples as she approached him. “Hey, baby.”

  She reached out and gave him a hug. To her surprise, he hung on longer than he ever had before. And squeezed tighter. Her breasts squashed against his tight chest, and to her dismay her nipples began to harden. A tingle rippled through her.

  Cheese and crackers!

  She pulled away, patting him on the shoulders. “Well, look at you. God, congratulations.”

  “You really mean that?” He wrinkled his dark brows, his black eyes looking straight into hers. Something in her trembled and she averted her gaze.

  “Yes, I do.” She cleared her throat. “Listen, I’m sorry. Really sorry for the way I acted yesterday. You know how I worry. But, no excuses. Let me make it up to you. Let’s go out Friday night and celebrate. Really kick up our heels and celebrate. My treat.”

  “Okay.” He reached out, his thick strong fingers gently caressing her face. “Wear that little black dress?”

  She shuddered. “It’s a little cold for that…” The look in his eyes made her words stumble. “Well … okay.”

  What she really meant to say was, what did he care what dress she wore? Her stomach did a flip-flop. She couldn’t speak but she couldn’t shut her mouth. She just stood there with it hanging open.

  Dimples dotted into his cheeks as he grinned and nodded. His black gaze nearly burned right through her. “Friday night, then. We celebrate, you in the black dress, your treat. It’s a date.”

  He whirled and walked away before she could say anything. Paralyzed, she stood gaping after him. Date? Date? Date?

  * * * *

  Moisture dripped from the sea green tile walls. Humid steam wafted around him. Bruce Springsteen’s Born In The USA blared from his record player. Hunter sang along, dancing naked around the bathroom, as he got ready.

  Music always helped him relax. Though it was old fashioned, he liked to collect records and play them. As a boy he’d always wanted to have a record player, but it had been a dream along with so many others. People who were so poor they couldn’t afford electric or heat, much less food, couldn’t afford extras. No, Ma and Pa couldn’t afford anything but booze.

  He joined Bruce in song, using his comb as a mike. He had it now.

  After all, he’d been born in America. He had the freedom to do anything he wanted, even be an astronaut. And holy moly, he’d done it.

  Even now, five days later, he still couldn’t believe it. He was on top of the world. Now it was time to get on top of Lily. His lips curled in a wry grin. Once he’d gotten over the shock of it, seducing Lily had become another mission in his daily life.

  He wanted her. He’d have her.

  It was funny how it had hit him all at once.

  The dream he had on his vision quest, as a boy, had been no dream at all. The redheaded woman giving birth had been Lily. He’d really had a vision, one of his wife and first-born child.

  He loved Lily. She was going to have his baby and become his wife. The trouble was making her see that. Making her forget her vow. Lily was as stubborn and worrisome as a woman could be. He just hoped he could get her hand before he went up.

  No, he would. He would.

  Wiping the steam from the mirror, he studied his face. He ran his hands along the smooth skin of his tan jaw. Perhaps he should shave. He naturally got very little facial hair, but a light shadow tended to grow in above his upper lip occasionally. He picked up the razor.

  Tonight he wanted, no needed, to look his best.

  Just as he thought, that the doorbell suddenly rang. The comb dropped along with his jaw. Lily. Holy moly. He wasn’t even dressed yet.

  He wrapped a white cotton towel around his waist. It was too small to tie, so he had to hold it in place. He headed to the bedroom to put on some pants.

  And then it hit hi
m.

  This was perfect. Absolutely perfect.

  Chapter Three

  Lily cracked her knuckles as she stood at his front door. Cheese and crackers, why was she so nervous? She’d been out with Hunter a million times. Well, at least a couple hundred.

  But he had said date.

  Cheese and crackers! She shook her head and really laid it into her forefinger. A loud pop sounded. For heaven’s sake, she was being silly. Ridiculous. It was a word, nothing more. Hunter had just been fooling around. He loved to play. No way had he meant it.

  She tapped her foot and pulled at her little black dress. The damn thing was so short, and tight it kept riding up. She’d been forced to wear thongs again, so she hadn’t wanted to throw pantyhose into the mix. Instead she’d worn black thigh highs, and now they kept peeking out every time she blinked. She was ready to go home and change. But, she’d promised him the black dress so the black dress it was. At least she had her green cashmere wrap to hide under.

  Clutching her tiny satin purse, she continued to tap her heels. What was taking him so long? She’d told him five.

  Then again, why was she knocking? Because this was a date? What was wrong with her? She always walked right in. Always. She hadn’t used his doorbell in … well … ever. They’d been best friends right from the start. Hit it right off, probably because they had both moved to Houston at the same time, lived in the same neighborhood, and started at the same school. They’d had so much in common, it had been eerie.

  And yet, they were so very different.

  She shook her head. Damn it, her brains were muffled tonight. Was that Bruce Springsteen she heard? Hunter was probably still in the shower. She was thirsty as hell. Her mouth felt like the desert. If she had to wait, she was grabbing a beer.

  Her hand went to the metal doorknob, and turned. Just as she was swinging open the door, she heard footsteps. Oh, good.

  She stepped inside, and nearly gasped aloud. She had to slam her mouth shut to keep from slipping. Cheese and crackers! Cheese and crackers! Quickly, she stuffed her hands in her pockets so not to crack them. If he saw her go at them, he’d know she was nervous. Over him.

  Cheese and crackers! Cheese and crackers!

  There he stood, still wet from the shower. The short black hair atop his head slicked back and spiked up here and there. Beads of water glistened on his smooth chest, across built pecks and six-pack stomach. The wetness made his muscles gleam with strength, accentuating their deep curves and pitches. Her eyes drifted to his arms, knotted with power.

  Her jaw shook. Dear God. She’d never known, never realized. Something in her turned over. Tingles pooled in her lower stomach. She had to look away. But she couldn’t. Instead her eyes drifted down.

  He wore only a thin white cotton towel, its brightness in deep contrast to his caramel colored skin.

  An entirely too small towel.

  He was holding it up in the front, but it spilt open by just a couple of inches. The crack revealed his upper thighs and nearly his … oh dear. Cheese and crackers!

  A deep, warm electric feeling coursed through her. Her nipples hardened. Despite herself, she wanted to rip away his towel, to lick the drops of water right from his body.

  “Hey.” Deep, yet smooth and suave, his voice was like velvet rubbing prickles along her skin. His eyes burned with hunger, like an animal wanting to feed. “Why’d you ring?”

  “I … I don’t know.” She gulped, and headed to the fridge. Swinging it open, she grabbed a beer, cracked it open, and took a long deep gulp. “Brain freeze, I guess. You almost ready?”

  Her hands shook. She fought to steady them, to pretend he had no effect on her.

  “Yeah, I’ll go throw on some pants.”

  “Don’t forget your underwear,” she teased.

  With a low, guttural chuckle he started to walk from the kitchen. Hearing his exiting footsteps, she figured she was safe and turned around.

  Loud, almost a screech, her gasp filled the room. He only laughed deeper.

  Cheese and crackers!

  His towel had dropped away, exposing his firm butt cheeks and beefy upper thighs. From top to bottom, his whole backside rippled with strength. He had the body of a soldier, hard, cut, and compact … devastating … and delicious.

  Her beer dropped to the floor, pooling in a fizzy mess across the gray tile.

  * * * *

  The salty sea air tickled her nose as they strolled along. The sun had just begun to set, streaking the sky with pinks and blues. All around them activity brewed. Seagulls squawked and pecked around. People talked and laughed. It was loud and lively. Perfect.

  Kemah boardwalk was one of her favorite places to come. The carnival atmosphere was intoxicating. She had planned to go to dinner downtown, but after his bare butt episode, she figured a little distraction couldn’t hurt. The busyness of the boardwalk was more than welcome. Neon lights and happy people, from young to old, surrounded them. Vendors called out, enticing you to play their midway games. The sixty-five foot Ferris wheel went round and round, and the music from the carousel filled the air.

  She was overdressed, indeed, but comfortable. She’d rather stick out in heels than deal with the new awkwardness between them.

  “Where do you want to go first?” He reached out and grabbed her hand, holding it in his strong grasp.

  She gave a little tug, hoping to release her hand. She didn’t want to be obvious by yanking away, but she didn’t like it one bit. What was he doing? What was he thinking?

  But she knew.

  This was a date.

  Cheese and crackers! His hold remained, and pulled her body closer to his. A knot formed in her throat. Her palms began to sweat.

  “Let’s go eat. I’m starved.” Truth be told, she wanted a drink. A strong one. And a reason to get her hand back. “How about the Aquarium? It’s so beautiful and I’m in the mood for seafood.”

  The distracting, busy environment of the restaurant would be welcome. She didn’t need anything quiet or romantic. Not now. Besides, it was closest.

  “Okay,” he said, turning to her with a smile. “But I’ve decided I can’t let you pay. It wouldn’t be right.”

  Now he’d crossed the line. His behavior was weird enough. And she sure didn’t appreciate his rear display earlier. Well, she had, but that wasn’t the point. She shook her head.

  “Hunter … Hunter … this is not a date. I’m paying.” Sticking out her chin, she forced her tone to be firm. She hated to start a fight, especially when she was supposed to be making up for her bad behavior, but this was too much. What had gotten into him?

  Making an tsk-tsk sound with his tongue, he gave a laugh. “Not a date? Of course it is. You agreed it was, remember?” She opened her mouth to protest, but he held a finger up. “Don’t think I’ll let you back out now.”

  Oh, the cockiness. Had he been anyone but her best friend, had he been a real date, she would have slapped him and left. She decided, for the sake of their friendship, to brush it off. Laughing, she pulled her hand free, and pushed through the glass doors of the Aquarium.

  “Oh I love this place.” It was an attempt at light talk, but she really did. Decorated in a sea theme, there were little portholes above many off the tables that served as windows. Three large aquarium tanks were filled with various tropical fish of different shapes, sizes and colors. Divers regularly fed them, and it was amazing to watch. You could even touch, and interact with string rays at the Sting Ray Reef. It was a little classy, but not stuffy, with plenty to look at, and great food.

  He wrapped his arm around her, pulling her close. “Table for two. Something private if you can,” he told the young, blond hostess.

  Lily opened her mouth to protest, wanting to insist upon something near the reef. Where it was loud and busy and not private.

  But the hostess had already grabbed to menus and begun to lead them to the right.

  Her narrow hips swayed gently, her legs swooshing against the blue of h
er dress as she walked. “I have something perfect.”

  Her eyes darted to Hunter. The hostess was just his type, skinny and tall, with no butt. She looked like a porcelain doll with her heart shaped face, blond curls, and big blue eyes.

  But Hunter wasn’t looking. Normally he would be. But something wasn’t normal. No … not at all.

  The hostess showed them to a small round table in a quiet corner, and laid the menus down. Hunter pulled out a chair for Lily, the first time ever. After she sat, he pushed her in.

  The awkwardness in her bubbled up, met with a stranger feeling.

  “Can I start you with drinks?”

  “Yes,” she answered quickly. She didn’t even pick up the menu. “A glass of white wine please.”

  “We have…” The hostess started to rattle off a list of choices, but Lily cut her off.

  “You choose.” Impatience bit at her. Hunter was staring at her, his dark eyes eating her as if she were the meal. “And as a matter of fact, we’ll just take a bottle.”

  Hunter laughed. “Okay. But I want a beer, too.”

  “Fine. One beer and a bottle of wine.”

  * * * *

  A gentleman would have stopped her. She’d had two glasses of wine already. A third would top her off and send her into la-la land.

  Yet he watched her fill the fluted wine glass to the brim with golden liquid. He said nothing as she gulped it, and stirred the jumbo shrimp around on her plate. She’d hardly eaten a thing.

  If she wasn’t drunk, she was damn close to it.

  Holy moly. It was so wrong, yet so to his benefit.

  A gentleman certainly wouldn’t be looking forward to taking advantage of her. But even as a little nip of guilt sank its ugly teeth into him, he pleasured into the fact. He reminded himself that he wasn’t getting her intoxicated, she was making herself that way. It wasn’t as if he were slipping a date rape drug in or something. No, he simply wasn’t stopping her. Lily was an adult, wasn’t she?

  The truth was, he knew he had the advantage now. Sober Lily worried too much, fretted and fretted, and remained as stubborn as ever. Sober Lily wanted him, but would never, ever act upon it.