Christmas With The Marine. Candace Havens
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Megan squeezed her mom. “I learned from the best.”
Mother and daughter shared a smile. They must have done a lot of charity events together. All the women seemed very comfortable with one another. And he hadn’t lied about Ainsley’s mom—she was a beauty. The diamonds around her neck sparkled brilliantly. He was betting the necklace could pay for a house, or maybe two. Once again it hit him that Ainsley came from all of this. And here, he didn’t even have a couch.
“We should probably feed him so he has the energy to dance,” Ainsley suggested. “They’ve set up a buffet so we can grab some food before the music begins.”
Crud. The dancing. “Uh, just so you ladies know, I’m not exactly the world’s best dancer. I haven’t actually broken any toes, but I’ve come close,” he admitted honestly.
“You’ll be fine,” Ainsley assured him. Then she stood on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. “You really are amazing for doing this,” she whispered.
For that he would have done anything. The kiss was like a slow burn on his cheek, spreading through his nerves like wildfire. All the anxiety he’d felt earlier in the night fled.
“Anything for—” He’d almost said you. Would that scare her off altogether? She’d said more than once she didn’t want anything serious. In fact, neither did he, so it was best if he kept this light. “The kids. Anything for the kids.”
“Such a good guy,” Ainsley said. “Let’s get some food in you. You’re going to need all your energy tonight.”
It was how she said it that made him do a double take.
They were a few steps ahead of the others.
She smiled but didn’t look at him. “Those abs were impressive. I might like a little alone time with them.”
“So are you saying you want to touch them?” He’d always been direct and wasn’t into games.
“Yep, all over.”
He laughed. “Well, at least you’re honest. What happened to not wanting to date?”
“I didn’t say anything about a date. I just want to run my hands across those abs more than I want to breathe.”
He nearly tripped.
“It’s bad for me to objectify you,” she said. “But those abs mixed with that big heart of yours is kind of my kryptonite. Just sayin’.”
“Ainsley, you can objectify me all you want. Over and over again.”
She sucked in a breath and fanned herself. “Marine, you cannot say things like that. I might melt into a puddle at your feet.”
His mind flashed to her down on her knees in front of him. No. No. No. He had to get that out of his head. She was just flirting and having some fun.
“Hey, Ainsley, stop hogging the Marine,” Megan called to them.
“Yeah,” a chorus said behind them.
Then there were gales of laughter.
“Your ladies await,” Ainsley told him and made a show of curtseying. Then she waved her arm in a regal manner to the rest of the women from the table.
He’d play the gentleman and make them all feel like they’d gotten their money’s worth.
But there was only one lady he was interested in.
And he couldn’t wait for her to touch his abs.
AINSLEY HAD WAITED patiently for more than two hours for her turn to dance with the Marine. Her mother’s friends had helped pay for the privilege to have him at their table, but they were all a bit too handsy for her comfort.
Not that she should in any way feel possessive.
But she did.
Right now he was dancing with Sara Reyes, who was batting her eyelashes at him. The woman was her mother’s age.
“If looks could murder,” Megan said beside her.
“Shut it.”
Megan laughed. “I thought you’d just met him.”
“I did. I told you, at the toy store.”
“Yep, but I’ve never seen you look at a guy like that. Ever. Not even Joe What’s-His-Name when you were twelve and Mom took you to his concert.”
Joe What’s-His-Name had nothing on Ben. She hadn’t been lying about his abs. When he came out from that curtain with his shirt unbuttoned, she’d squirmed in her seat along with every other woman in the place. Ripped. That’s what he was. And there was a tattoo over his heart she was dying to explore.
Her body warmed again just thinking about it.
Fingers snapped in front of her face. “You do have it bad,” Megan said.
Her sister had the most annoying habit of interrupting her fantasies tonight. First, on the way to dinner, and now this.
“What? I was thinking about work.”
Her sister snorted. “Maybe workin’ it. But that face...” She did a dismissive finger wave, clearly to tease Ainsley. “It’s most definitely not thinking about work. He’s so thoughtful. And one of the most gorgeous creatures I’ve ever seen. He keeps stealing glances at you like he wants to eat you up. I say go for it. Have a good time.”
That’s all it could be. She was sticking to her guns when it came to men, especially right now. While her parents might want her to marry and settle down, that wasn’t a part of her plan. Not for a long time. It didn’t matter how many men they paraded in front of her, or forced her to sit with at dinner. Their manipulation wouldn’t work. They thought they were doing what was right—finding her a man who could take care of her—but she could take care of herself.
“I’m not interested. I keep telling you that,” Ainsley said resolutely. “My business takes up my days, nights and weekends. We’re doing really well. He’s a nice guy who did us a big favor tonight. Leave it alone, okay?”
Then she gave her sister the glare. The one that said if you push any harder, I’ll tell Mom and Dad on you.
Her sister held up her hands in surrender. “Fine. Fine. But just be straight with him. Tell him that you want to hang out, nothing serious. I bet he’d go for it. And from what he said about teaching and being a helicopter pilot, it sounds like he’s kind of busy, too.
“He was saying they sometimes leave at a moment’s notice for training exercises all over the world. This could be great. You don’t have to marry the guy, although I’d love to see Dad’s face with that one. Can you imagine? He’d probably have a coronary. I’ll be honest. If you aren’t interested in that Marine, I am. I’d be all over him like—”
“Megan!”
“Yeah, you aren’t possessive at all,” her sister teased.
“What’s so funny?” Ben asked, approaching them.
“Girl stuff,” Megan replied quickly. Ainsley was grateful for her sister’s vague answer. She prayed he hadn’t heard their conversation.
“Would you like to dance?” he said to Ainsley. The poor guy had been on his feet for two hours straight, wobbling through two-steps and waltzes, and a few fast dances with the other women at the table. He always seemed attentive and incredibly kind.
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