Her Marine Read Free Page A

lines of experience etched into his features. He was just so male, everything about him humming with masculinity from the spicy musk of his scent to the hard lips that gentled into a smile.
    “Batty?” Laughter breathed under the word. “I don’t think I’ve heard that since one of the nuns yelled at me for driving her batty by canoodling with the girls.”
    “It’s a word.” Shannon shifted her weight and clenched her butt cheeks, fighting the urge to fidget. The warring sensations in her body sharpened the dampness soaking her panties. The visceral physical reaction seemed to be completely at odds with the nervousness tap dancing on her heart. “It’s got character and it sort of sums up how I’m feeling.”
    He waited a beat as the waitress delivered their drinks. The lights reflected through his golden beer and shimmered against the crown of thick foam at the top of the icy mug, while her coffee steamed and added a hint of cinnamon and pumpkin to the air around them. He held up a hand to the waitress, silencing the woman before she could speak. “Can you bring us a sampler platter of some kind, and give us a bit?”
    The waitress murmured an ‘of course’ and disappeared again. Wrapping her too cold fingers around the bowl shaped coffee cup, Shannon suppressed a shiver.
    “All right, who was he and do you need his legs broken?” The comfort with easy brutality he offered didn’t detract from the concern in his face or the targeted assessment in his eyes.
    “I’m sorry.” She blurted and ducked her head. The entire exercise was a terrible idea. Who was she kidding? She couldn’t spend five minutes with a real man without coming apart at the seams, much less bed one or rediscover the passion missing in her work.
    “Hey, you’ve got nothing to be sorry about. I’m a total stranger, but someone hurt you and I’m guessing it was a guy. So if you want his legs broken, I can buy you dinner, take care of that, and drive you home.”
    “You’re serious?” She glanced up at him through her bangs, afraid to meet his eyes.
    “Absolutely. Only a chickenshit bastard hurts a lady. I have no patience for that. So you tell me about him, we eat, and I’ll take care of it.”
    Was he for real? Shannon couldn’t quite wrap her mind around the dead serious offer. Nothing in Brody’s demeanor suggested a joke or even a line. His gaze remained calm, intense, and focused on her. He didn’t pay any attention to the scantily clad women on the stage demonstrating their flexibility. She squirmed under the brunt of his stare.
    “You didn’t show up for this date to get into a fight.”
    “A fight requires someone hitting me back. Trust me.” Brody grinned—a long, slow grin that wrapped around her heart and tugged it away from punching her ribs. “He won’t. And if he does, that will just make it more fun.”
    The laugh escaped before she could swallow it. Her lips trembled and she smiled. “I think that’s the most romantic thing anyone’s ever said to me.”
    “Then you have been seeing the wrong men, ma’am.” Brody paused as the waitress brought a platter of fried foods, potato skins, mozzarella sticks, chicken wings, and more. Shannon’s stomach let loose with a gurgle of hunger as the scents assaulted her. He waved the waitress off and set a small plate in front of her. “Ladies, first.”
    “Lieutenant Essex….”
    “Brody.”
    “Brody, I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I think tonight was a mistake.” She fought the urge to reach for the food, twisting her icy fingers around the coffee cup, desperate for the heat.
    “Maybe. But it wouldn’t be the first one I’ve ever made, and the food is good, the music is pretty nice, and you’ve got a great smile. So let’s eat.” He shoved the platter at her. “What was the son-of-a-bitch’s name?”
    Shannon reached for the platter obediently but hesitated as her fingers grazed the edge of the fried cheese. “I don’t know his