Last True Hero (5 page)

“No, it's not, Berk. It's almost lunchtime. Why are you so lazy?” Mea's curls shake as she shoots me a stern look of disappointment.

Ugh. I really do hate mornings. And if I'm not out of bed yet, it's morning. No matter what time the clock says.

“Fine.” I groan as I sit up and stretch my arms high above my head. “I'm up.”

“That's my girl. Now, on to more important topics. If you don't tell me right the hell now who that delicious specimen of a man was last night, I'm going to start screaming bloody murder until your momma comes to check on us.”

“Oh, no! Anything but that!” I playfully tickle her ribs until she crumbles into a heap of giggles at my feet.

“Give! I give!” she screams.

“Shush,” I whisper, because the last thing I want to do is face my mother this early in the morning. Lunchtime be damned.

“What's his name? How'd you meet him? I thought you didn't date military dudes?”

I decide to address her last question first. “I don't. I mean, I'm not dating him. I only just gave him my number last night.”

Her squeal of delight is enough to tease a reluctant smile out of me. “His name is Dare.”

I go on to explain how Dare and Drake came into the restaurant that first night, and how I ran into him at the auto shop a few weeks later.

“And now I want to know all about that hunk of deliciousness that was sitting across from him. Drake, was it?”

I aim a knowing smile in her direction. “Ah. That's what you really wanted, right? You don't really care about my love life.”

“Because I know you well enough to know you don't have one. Hey, we've been apart for a few years, Berk, but I know you're not going to jump into anything with a guy who practically wears the words
BAD IDEA
across the front of his shirt. Am I right?”

I nod. “You're probably right. But…I did give him my number, didn't I? And I normally wouldn't do that. If I wanted a military man, I'd just marry Grisham, like our parents want me to. I'd never just pass Grish over for a guy just like him.”

She reaches over and pries my eyes open wider, using her fingertips to hold open my lids. “Are these working right? Did you not
see
Dare? There's nothing about him that's like Grisham, not a damn thing. Dare…even his name is dark and dangerous. And I didn't spot a piece of expensive jewelry on him anywhere. And he doesn't seem like a BMW type of guy, either. Oh, and one more thing. There was no silver spoon hanging out of his mouth. He's not navy royalty, that's for sure.”

Everything Mea so eloquently stated is what was already rattling around inside my own head. Dare is clearly nothing like Grisham, or any other guy I've ever dated.

And maybe it's that hint of danger I can see in him from a mile away, or his intense, brooding demeanor that attracts me to him. Or maybe it's the fact that he doesn't look at me like I'm a princess sitting on her throne that he wants to put in a box and protect.

He looks at me like I'm a goddess perched high on an idol that he wants to
worship.

And something buried very deeply inside of me, down where the most secret thoughts and feelings of my subconscious hide, wants to let him.

As soon as I allow that thought to enter my brain, my phone begins to vibrate harshly against the wood of my nightstand.

I pick it up with a growing sense of exuberance inside of me, and read it.

It's got to be Dare. Who else could it be? He's calling me? Doesn't he know the just-text-a-girl-you-barely-know rule? No one calls anymore! My eyes must be scarily wide, because Mea looks at me with panic.

“What?”

“It's him…Dare's
calling
me.”

“Well, answer it, girl! Jesus, you scared me!” She clutches at her chest like an old lady having a heart attack.

“Hello.” My voice is wobbly as I push the phone against my ear.

“Hey, Berkeley.” His voice is the opposite of wobbly. His voice is strong, sure, deep. All of a sudden, that voice is everything. The only thing keeping me upright on my bed.

“Dare…I'm surprised you're calling me.”

“Why?”

Well, that's direct.

“Because? I don't know…”

“Weren't you giving me an explicit green light last night to go ahead and call? I mean, you dared me. I don't take that lightly.”

Now his tone is jovial, light and flirty. It sends the annoying crop of winged insects inside my belly into a frenzy.

“No? Well, then if I get results this quickly I'll dare you more often.”

Bold, Berkeley. Very bold.

“That could be dangerous for you,” he warns.

“I think I need a little danger in my life.”

“I'm going to be honest here, Berkeley.” My name, now my favorite word when he uses it, rolls over me like a tidal wave. “I want to see you again. Are you working tonight?”

I nod mutely, and then remember he can't see me. I swear, I wasn't such an idiot before I met this guy. Mea dissolves into another fit of giggles on the bed, and I kick her.

“Oh, no. Silence? That's a no…right? You're going to kill my ego here, Berkeley.”

A delicious shiver is crawling its way up my spine at the same time a small trickle of sweat slips down between my boobs. “No! I mean, yes. I am working tonight.”

“After?”

I shake my head and find my confidence. I actually do have a large stock of it somewhere. “Yes, after. Would you like to come to See Food around ten and wait for me to finish up?”

“No.”

My heart sinks somewhere near my feet.

“I would love to.” I can hear his crooked little smile lifting his voice. “I'll see you at ten.”

He clicks off the line, and my heart is now somewhere so high I'm afraid I won't be able to reach it to put it back inside my chest.

“Well.” As I toss my phone down on the pillow beside me, my smile spreads wide. “Shit just got real. I have a date with Dare tonight.”

D
rake's after-work routine is very simple: He takes a twenty-minute shower, grabs a frozen dinner to microwave, sits on the couch in a pair of sweats, and drinks a bottle of Bud.

As he enters the final stage of this custom, I'm buttoning my shirt. Drake pauses, beer in hand, on his way to the couch. His mouth falls open as he takes in my appearance.

“Why are you wearing a shirt that buttons?”

I glance down at the soft blue-collared shirt with white checks, the snap buttons down the front of it lending it a retro vibe, and then back at him. I could tell him, but I'm not ready to announce to the world that I'm trying to date a girl I'm not even in the same realm of living with, much less the same league.

“My mom sent it to me.”

Drake's eyes narrow. He looks like a big, beefy, muscle head, but he's no fool, and I know it. “Which foster mom have you kept in touch with to the extent that she'd send you a shirt for no good reason?”

Damn. I had blurted out the first thing that came to me, forgetting that Drake knows my history.

“Okay. That was a lie, Drake.”

“No fucking kidding?” The sarcasm drips from each word like nectar.

“I'm going to see Berkeley. It's not a big deal, just meeting up with her after she gets off work.”

Drake's face settles into its normal state of being, grinning at me with an extra gleam in his eyes. “Yeah? Good luck with that, man.”

“Gee, Drake. I'm so glad I have your vote of confidence here. It means so fucking much to me, dude. Come here…let's hug it out.”

Drake plops onto the couch, and I follow him into the living room.

“I have all the confidence in the world, man. If you're interested in this chick, does that mean you want to stay in Lone Sands?”

I sigh, running my hands over my face as I contemplate the question I've been avoiding. “I don't know. This could still just be a stop on the train for me. You know I don't stay in one place for too long. Force of habit.”

The army lifestyle suited me so well because it allowed me to move and stretch my wings. Staying in one place has never been my strong suit. You need a reason to stay. I've never had one.

“Yeah, I know your habits, Dare. And I know something else. Old habits die hard, but yours need to change. This isn't a life for anyone. Just moving from place to place all the time? That sucks. It was one thing when we had the army, but now…now things are different. And you need to make a change.”

The
A
word isn't necessarily something I want to discuss. Not right now. Maybe not ever. “I get antsy.”

“That just means you haven't found a reason to stay. Maybe Lone Sands will be different for you.” His voice turns more serious with each word he says. “Think about it…I kind of like having your ass around.”

“Just my ass? Or do you want the rest of me to stay?”

I duck as he chucks the TV remote at my head. Discharge or not, my reflexes still rival a freaking mountain lion's, and he knows it.

“What about you? You've got the garage, but is that all Lone Sands has to offer you? You've been living here for a while. You call this place home. Where's the girl to come home to?”

Drake and I will always be army brothers. Going through the daily hell that is Ranger training unifies us for life. He left the forces before I did, but our bond remained even when we were separated.

“See you later, dude. Have fun on your date.”

I smirk. So I hit a nerve with Drake when I brought up the fact that he's single. I stockpile away that little piece of ammunition for later.

“It's not a date,” I throw back over my shoulder as I walk out the front door.

I can't be anything but honest with myself as I drive to See Food. I want this to be a date. I know it's not, but
damn
do I wish it was. And maybe it can be. Maybe I can grow into a man that's good enough to take a girl like Berkeley out on a date.

The restaurant envelops me in a welcome blast of cool air as I walk inside, and my eyes immediately start to rove. I'm searching for blond hair that always looks a little windswept and tousled, a body that I always guess would fit just right tucked beneath mine, a face that could stop traffic, and legs that don't quit. When I see her, standing at a table near the back of the place, my whole body vibrates with a sigh of relief and a hum of straight-up arousal. Goddamn.

I wait, leaning against the hostess stand, unsure if I should sit on the bench up here or just go back out to my truck. She finishes refilling the table's drinks and heads back toward the front, pulling her phone out of the pocket of her little black apron. The army green shorts she wears are barely covered by the length of the apron, and I can't stop my eyes from raking over her generous curves as she approaches.

When she looks up, her eyes captivate mine, and I swear, they light up. Like I'm a sight for sore eyes, or exactly the person she wanted to see standing here. The thought sends hope sizzling through my chest, landing like an arrow in the center of my heart.

“Hey, you,” she says as she approaches.

All I can do is smile down at her. Something tells me there won't be a time that she's walking toward me that I'll be able to do anything else.

“Hey,” I answer. “I like your shorts. The color can't be a coincidence.”

“It's not.” A stunning pink tinge creeps into her cheeks.

“A nod for me, huh?” I widen my stance, shoving my hands in my pockets.

“Just wanted you to know I was thinking about you.”

Those long lashes actually fluttered at me with that statement, and a sudden epiphany strikes. What if this girl is really an evil vixen siren who places a spell on all the men she meets? I've never been into that fantasy or sci-fi shit, but suddenly staring at this girl and all the impossible beauty that never seems to end, I'm a newfound believer.

I lean in closer, and use my index finger to beckon her to do the same. When my lips are only inches from her ear, I whisper, “Are you an evil vixen siren?”

Her eyes widen slightly, and then narrow with suspicion. She turns her head until her lips actually brush the shell of my ear, and an internal shiver wrecks the rest of my senses. Damn, she's sexy. At this proximity I can smell the roses, mixed with something earthy, and it's salacious. “If I was, do you really think I'd give my secret away?”

I pull back slightly, so I can meet her toffee-brown gaze dead-on. “Are there many of those? Secrets, I mean? That you're not giving away?”

She shakes her head, causing all those wild blond locks to tickle my face. “Most people in the world don't stick around long enough to learn other people's secrets. We'll see how far you get.”

“That sounds suspiciously like a dare, Berkeley.” As I smile down at her my heart begins to do all kinds of crazy gymnastics in my chest.

“Why don't you sit down at that booth over there?” She gestures toward the table she means, near the front door. “I'll only be a little bit. Do you want something to eat?”

I shake my head. “I'm good, thanks. I'll just hang out and wait.”

She shoots me a smile as she walks away, heading off to complete her closing duties. I can't keep my eyes off of her as she sweeps under tables, rolls silverware, and does something interesting with multiple ketchup bottles.

The front door opens again and a couple walks in. The man has a headful of dark hair streaked with silver, and his height speaks to me…a man of power. The woman has blond hair coifed perfectly in a short style. I tilt my head, staring at the woman. Something clicks in my brain, and I realize she looks a lot like…

“Momma? Daddy? What are you two doing here?” Berkeley comes rushing forward, and the look on her face can only be described as panicked.

Why would she be panicked to see her parents?

I place my hands on the table to stand, because of course I'm going to shake the father's hand of the girl I'm about to take out. I may not have had parents to raise me up with values, but I learned them on my own.

Berkeley's head whips toward me as she approaches, and the slight shake of her curls has me sinking back down into the booth. I watch as she greets her parents and proceeds to have an argument with them.

From what I can hear, it's clear that they don't want Berkeley to work here. They want her to quit, and come home with them. She shakes her head, fierce as a tigress, and her feistiness makes me smile.

I had wondered myself why someone like her would be working as a waitress. Hell, I would never knock someone's job options or choices, and I don't look down on any profession. Everyone has to make ends meet. But for Berkeley to be waiting tables when she drives an Escalade, I had to wonder. Now, seeing how put-together and affluent her parents look, I'm wondering even harder.

What makes this girl do the things she does?

And that question sets off a spark of intense interest in my brain. My
brain
is interested in Berkeley now, not just my body.

The tigress sends her parents packing, and by the time she makes it back to my booth, I'm chuckling. I rub a hand over the stubble on my chin and meet her eyes.

“That was interesting,” I remark, giving nothing away.

“Trust me, Dare. You want no part of my parents right now. I don't introduce them to guys I date.”

“No? Never?”

“Never. They're more trouble than they're worth.” She blows out a frustrated breath, which sends that cute stray strand of hair hanging over her eye flying skyward.

“I'm going to want to know more about that at some point. But what do you want to do tonight?”

“Honestly?” She puts out a hand and pulls me to my feet.

I reach out and brush the stray strand behind her ear. Just the small amount of contact sends heat coursing through my body, landing with an aching twitch in my groin. “I always want honesty from you, Berkeley.”

I've been preparing myself for this all day. I'm ready to take her to see a movie, or to some swanky-ass wine bar on the oceanfront.

“Okay.” A mischievous gleam enters her eyes. “I worked a double today, and my feet kind of hurt. All I really want to do tonight is kick off my shoes and drink a beer. And look at the stars.”

I reach up and pull on my earlobe a few times, wanting to make sure my ears are functioning properly. She wants to…what the fuck? Finally, I speak. “For real?”

She nods firmly. “Absolutely.”

I grab her hand and begin pulling her quickly out the door.

“What are you doing?” Her question is blurred by giggles and squeals. All of which I like.

“I'm getting you out of here fast, before you change your mind and tell me that what you actually want to do is go wine tasting or see a chick flick.”

I stop in my tracks as I survey the tiny gravel lot. Cars are spilling out onto the street beyond. “Where's your car?”

When I look at her, she's smiling a coy smile that lets me know my guess earlier about her being an evil vixen siren was correct. “I had my friend Mea drop me off. I'm with you tonight, soldier.”

It's way too soon for a first kiss. It's way too soon for a first kiss.
This is my mantra as I stare at her, my eyes wandering from her eyes, to her amazingly sexy hair, to her lips, to her cute button nose, back to her lips…

When she pulls the bottom one into her mouth, my gaze is stuck to that spot. I'm telling myself that if I kiss her right now, I'll scare her away and ruin everything I suddenly want to build. I manage to tear my eyes away from the succulent lip and take her hand again.

“My truck is this way.”

I'm not a small guy, around six feet, three inches. Berkeley is about a foot shorter than I am. Rather than watch her struggle to simply make it up the step rail, I grip her around the waist and lift her up into her seat. Her eyes meet mine as she settles into the leather, and we remain locked as I pull her seat belt and cross it over her torso, sliding it into the buckle on the other side of her. When I pull back, I swear I see a trail of sparks that follow. Heat explodes in my gut, and I can't remember the last time a woman made me feel like I needed to douse myself with cold water from a mere graze of skin. I close her door and take a deep breath as I walk around to my side of the truck.

When I'm seated with the engine running, I ask her where I should go. “To the 7-Eleven for our beer, and then…where do you live? Is it on the beach, by any chance?”

I smile and pull out of the lot. “It's pretty damn close.”

“Perfect. Let's go to your place.”

I drive. As I pull into the 7-Eleven parking lot, I glance at her. She's lounging in her seat, perfectly at home in my truck. I swallow thickly, trying to dispel the ball of instant attraction still stuck somewhere between my chest and my dick.

This girl might be the slow, epically painful death of me. But damn, what a way to go.