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“Lauren, you’re drunk.”

She pulled herself upright, ready to argue
with him. But then her breath came out in a rush. “Okay, you got me there. Not
drunk, but certainly feeling no pain.”

“I’m going to take you inside and put you
to bed.”

“Only if you’re going to crawl in with me.”

He chuckled and got out of the car, coming
around to open her door. Lauren let him, deciding she liked this game of
chivalry he played with her. He handed her down and she stumbled against his
chest. Damn but she liked that chest. She put her palm on his shirt, feeling
the strength of his pecs hidden beneath it. “You shouldn’t hide these muscles,
you know. I’m betting they’re beautiful.”

“That’s it, young lady. You’re officially
off limits now.” He picked her up and carried her to the front door. “Mrs.
Boorman is going to get quite the show tonight.”

Once inside, Lauren headed for the stairs
for the short walk up to her apartment, but missed the first step. John laughed
at her again and threw her over his shoulder. She squealed and it echoed in the
stairwell. Lauren tried to shush the sound, but it just got louder.

“John, put me down. You’re going to wake
the whole building!”

“It’s not me who’s doing the shouting.”

He deposited her, took the keys from her
fingers and unlocked her apartment door. With a scoop, he picked her up again
despite her protestations and carried her inside. Lauren nestled into his arms,
feeling warm and cozy and once again protected. Damn him. Why was he always
coming to her rescue? She didn’t need rescuing.

Or maybe she did. Despite what he thought,
she wasn’t drunk. Tipsy, yes. And she wanted him.

John tucked the blanket firmly around her
shoulders, effectively pinning her hands underneath. “I want to make love to
you, Lauren Carr. But when I do, you will be fully awake, fully sober and fully
willing to put yourself in my hands.”

“You’re not going to make love to me
tonight?”

John smiled at the childlike simplicity in
her voice. “No, Lauren. I’m not. I’ve a raging hard-on for you and I’m going to
go home anyway. Good night.” He gave her a chaste goodnight peck on the
forehead, smoothed her brow and watched her fall asleep.

He hadn’t lied about the hard-on. His pants
were uncomfortably tight and temptation lay there looking sexy and ready.

But it wouldn’t be right. Damn his sense of
chivalry. He shook his head, smiling regretfully at the snoring form of the
woman he’d hoped to bed tonight. He sat on the bed and simply watched her sleep
for several minutes. Several strands of hair had come loose so he leaned over
and pulled out the combs holding it back from her face. Soft wisps of dark
brown glided over her shoulders and John pushed them back with his fingertip.
In sleep, the lines of her face softened and he saw what she must’ve looked
like before. Before growing up, before getting older, before going overseas and
living in that hell.

He dropped his hand to his side. He
couldn’t judge her. He’d lived through the same hell and had the same scars.
With a pang of regret, he stood. Just two old soldiers trying to put their lives
back together, that’s all they were. He gave the blanket one last tuck, stood,
and went home.

Chapter Six

Lauren woke the next morning, fully
dressed, a mouth filled with cotton and with a more-than-minor headache.
Somewhere close by a siren blared and as she rolled over, she realized the
siren’s call came from the phone beside her bed. She grabbed the receiver and
hit several buttons on it in an attempt to shut it up.

“Lauren? Lauren, are you there?”

Bleary eyed, she stared at it for several
seconds before she realized her sister’s voice came from the receiver in her
hand. She put it to her ear. “Yeah, I’m here. Although I might be dead.”

“Lauren, it’s nearly eleven and you said
you’d be here before ten to help with the setup for—”

“Oh, my God. Annie, I’m so sorry. I
overslept. I’ll be right there.”

She hung up the phone and only afterward
realized her sister had been still talking. Throwing back the covers, she
stared in confusion at the clothes she still wore from last night, the skirt a
tangle around her legs, the T-shirt wrinkled and, she sniffed it, smelling like
beer? How many had she drunk last night? She knew better than to drink more
than one beer. Her inability to hold her liquor had been a big joke overseas.

Overseas. MishMASH. Singing with the band.
She groaned. How could she have done that to John? Just left him like that and
gone up and done an entire set? Was it an entire set? Or only a few songs?

It didn’t matter. He’d taken her out for
dinner and she’d blown him off to hang out with…
oh my God
. Pete. She’d
once had a fling with Pete. Did John know? Had she told him when she’d rambled
on like an idiot about the band she’d “heard” overseas?

Groaning, she stripped out of her clothes.
Hoping a shower would help and knowing it would only be painful, she turned the
water on hot and forced herself to suck it up. Getting slightly more than tipsy
had consequences and she might as well face them.

Her phone rang just as she searched for her
keys. Tempted to let it go, she decided her sister had already yelled at her
for being late, she might as well add a few more minutes to her tardiness.

“Lauren here.”

“How are you feeling today?”

Why did that little bubble have to form in
her throat at exactly the moment she heard his voice? “Fine,” she croaked, cleared
her throat and tried again. “I’m fine, thank you. And you?”

The man had put her to bed and that was the
best she could come up with?
And you?
Lauren rolled her eyes.

“I’m doing quite well, thank you. I need to
spend some time at the Rundel Library and wondered if you’d like to join me for
some Dinosaur Barbecue later.”

“Is there a band playing?”

She liked the sound of his laugh. Maybe he
wasn’t mad at her for her heinous behavior of the night before.

“No band. Just good barbecue.”

“I have to go help my sister with her
garage sale but I’ll be done by five or so.”

“Perfect. Meet me at the restaurant?”

“I’ll be there.”

Lauren hung up the phone, a smile on her
face. Her behavior couldn’t have been too bad if he wanted to see her again. Of
course, he wanted her to meet him there. That implied he didn’t want to have to
take her home again. Could he be asking her out to let her down easy? The
Dinosaur Barbecue wasn’t exactly a romantic place. It had begun life as a
biker-bar kind of place.

She tapped a finger on the phone, as she
tried to puzzle it out. Outside a siren went by and Lauren jumped. Her
sister’s—she was on her way to her sister’s and was already late. Putting
thoughts of Big John to the side, she grabbed the keys John had so thoughtfully
placed beside the phone and headed out the door.

“So that’s it. You’re meeting him for
dinner tonight again and you think it’s to let you down? Lauren, that’s the
silliest thing I’ve ever heard.”

Lauren’s sister, Annie, put the littlest
member of the family back into her playpen, gave her a toy and turned to
Lauren. At thirty, Annie had settled, the twenty extra pounds from giving birth
twice giving her a matronly air. “Ian, I can’t sell that if you’re playing with
it!” she called out to her son, who at the moment was racing little toy cars
along a long, yellow track.

“Aww, Mom. Do you have to sell this?”

“You haven’t played with it for three
years. Yes, it’s going.”

Lauren watched her nephew careening the toy
cars through the loop-de-loop he’d set up and nudged her sister. “It’s new
again because he hasn’t seen it in a while. How much you want for it?”

“Two-fifty.”

“Sold.”

“Lauren, you don’t…”

Lauren held up her hand. “I’ll keep it at
the apartment. Then when he comes over, it’ll be new again. By the time he’s
totally bored with it, Kasey will want it.” She nodded at the little girl in
the playpen who rewarded her with a toothless smile as she banged her hand on a
toy drum.

“You’re a softie, Auntie Lauren,” her
sister told her as she deposited Lauren’s money in the shoebox that served as a
cash register.

“Yeah, well. I only have one nephew and one
niece so far, so I might as well spoil them.”

Her sister’s eyes narrowed. “And what about
your own? Maybe this John is—”

Lauren held up her hand to stave off her
sister’s words. “Stop right there. We’ve had two dates and dinner tonight will
be the third. And probably the final.”

Annie backed down but Lauren could tell
from the set of her lips the subject wasn’t closed. Thankfully a car pulled up
and the couple got out to come up the drive and look over the stuff for sale.
Lauren went into the house to get a pitcher of lemonade while Annie negotiated
a price with them for an old stepstool that really only needed a new coat of
paint.

“Sixty-six dollars and eighty-five cents,”
Annie proclaimed at the end of the day. “Not bad for all the junk I got rid
of.”

“You running this again tomorrow?” Lauren
asked, surveying the meager pickings that were left.

“No. Let’s just box this stuff up and I’ll
take it to the Salvation Army on Monday. Ian, go get the boxes from the living
room, will you?”

“Aww, Mom.”

“Now, Ian.”

Lauren winked at her nephew who grinned in
return and they headed into the house together. As Ian grabbed two large boxes,
Lauren picked up her wallet from the kitchen counter and dropped it into her
jeans pocket. She held the door for him then followed him back to the garage
where Annie had already begun to bag up the leftover clothes Ian had outgrown.

“I’m headed out,” she told her sister.

“Give him a kiss for me.”

Lauren shook her head as Ian made a face.
“You haven’t even met John.”

At the name, Ian’s face lit up. “John? Is
that the Civil War guy? He let me hold his rifle!”

“Yes, Ian, the same John. I’m having
barbecue with him tonight.”

“Cool. I like him.”

Annie grinned at her son’s approval.
“You’ll have to bring him for dinner one of these nights. Or maybe next Sunday.
We could do an old-fashioned Sunday dinner and—”

Lauren stopped her. “Annie. Let’s not get
ahead of ourselves, shall we? I’m driving myself to Dinosaur Barbecue and
eating messy ribs with a guy I’ve known all of a week. Let’s just leave it at
that, shall we?”

“Well you’d better get changed. It’s nearly
five now.”

With a wave, Lauren walked to the street
and down three houses where she’d parked her little runabout car. Five gears,
manual transmission, four little chipmunks inside working their hearts out. She
loved it. Great on gas, good on the road and just perfect for her.

As she unlocked the door and got in she
thought of John in the passenger seat and chuckled. His shoulders were so broad
he’d take up most of the interior. With a sigh, she remembered the feel of
those hard shoulders against her stomach. Had he really slung her over his
shoulder and carried her up the stairs? She remembered that part. Did Mrs.
Boorman see him do that? With her luck? Probably.

A quick glance at the clock on her dash
told her she had just enough time to stop at her apartment and change into a
dress. Maybe he was going to dump her and maybe not. But she’d go down
fighting.

John looked at his watch and swore. The
traffic ahead of him didn’t move and Lauren would get there, wait for him…and
wait for him…and wait for him until she got tired or, worse, thought he’d blown
her off and leave. At his side, his cell phone gave a final chirrup as the
battery gave up and John swore again.

Lauren glanced at the clock in her car as
she drove along the open lanes of the highway. An accident on the other side
had traffic backed up for two miles. Glad she didn’t have to deal with that,
she got off at the downtown exit and couldn’t believe her luck in getting a
parking place right beside the restaurant. Of course, she gave the lot a quick
examination out of habit before she reminded herself she didn’t need to do
that. No one lay in wait to blow her up.

Turning off the car, she checked her watch.
Perfect timing. Using the rearview mirror for a final check of her lipstick,
she took a moment to compose herself before getting out of the car. This was
the important date. This was the make-or-break time. Putting a smile on her
face, she got out of the car and waltzed into the restaurant to find John.

Except he wasn’t there. She scanned the
place and saw no sign of those magnificent shoulders. Feeling silly, she
retreated outside to wait for him there at the door of the restaurant. A
passing policeman gave her the once-over in her somewhat low-cut red dress and
sexy sandals and Lauren beat a hasty retreat to her car. Better to wait inside
than for the cops to think she was looking for a john. Well, she was, actually.
A big John. And did he have a big Johnny to go with those wonderful shoulders?
Appalled at the way her thoughts headed, she suppressed a giggle and turned the
rearview mirror so she could see his SUV when he pulled in and settled in to
wait.