Closer: A Blind Date Bad Boy Romance Page 2

  And I know he’s right. So sighing, I let out another gusty exhale.

  “Yeah. I guess.”

  “Just follow your instincts. We’re not at the base anymore. You’re free now, and can make your own decisions. No more following orders.”

  “Yeah. I know,” is my sulky reply.

  “Look. Use this opportunity to get back into the groove. Do what a twenty five year-old guy would normally do if he hadn’t been in the army.”

  “Which is?” I ask skeptically. “Bang girls left and right? Get pussy wherever I can after tours in Afghanistan and Kosovo?”

  But Cole gets serious again.

  “Yeah, kinda. Listen, for the past four years your senses have been tuned in to war. But that’s not what life is about. Not for you, and not anymore. Use your body to explore a little. Have some fun dude. Like I said, wet your wick.”

  I let out a snort, although I know he’s right.

  “It might feel weird at first,” Cole continues. “This is the kind of shit they don't teach you. But take it from me. All you need to do is touch a female, and your instincts will do the rest. There’s no better way to get back into civilian life than fucking around a bit.”

  “You’re married!” I grunt.

  “I know, I know,” Cole laughs too. “I’m not saying for me, that’s a whole ‘nuther load of crap. I’m saying for you, dude. Just get some of the rage out of your system.”

  And I mutter my thanks before hanging up. Because I know my buddy’s right. Before I called him I hadn't really known what it had been that was bothering me all week. But now I’m sure: it’s some kind of weird disconnect with the civilian world. Like even going to the grocery store is surreal with the heaps of fruits and veggies piled high, and items like Choco-Puffs and Cheetos bursting from store shelves. We had none of that in Afghanistan, so coming back has been like culture shock. Maybe going on this date is exactly what I need.

  So before I can change my mind I start up the car and drive to the movie theater, even though it’s still early. There’s no sense in overthinking this. It’s just a blind date. And at least with a movie, I won’t have to talk much. Thank god for small blessings.

  I arrive outside the venue before any of the others and lean against the wall, my hands deep in the pockets of my jeans. I pray Hillary and Randy arrive before Amy does, to save us from awkward small talk. That stuff will kill you, and I’m not even sure I know how to do it anymore.

  A few minutes pass when I hear the ticking of heels on concrete coming closer and turn my head to find myself eye to eye with a curvy brunette with alabaster skin, a round angelic face with huge brown eyes. She looks at me, smiling shyly.

  “Brent?” she murmurs, confusing me.

  “Unnnh?” I answer stupidly.

  She smiles again and my heart literally contracts.

  “I’m Janie, your date for tonight. Amy’s sick and she’s asked me to come instead,” she explains apologetically, cheeks flushing. I straighten immediately, taking my hands out of my pockets. Shit, she’s curvy and wide, and I tower over the small woman. She looks up at me like a deer caught in the headlights.

  “Is that okay?” she whispers. “I know I’m not what you were expecting.”

  The words are true, but that doesn’t mean it’s a bad thing. Because this woman is exactly my type … and suddenly the night just got ten times hotter.

  Chapter 3

  JANIE

  He’s got to be at least six foot three, and built like - well, a soldier. Brent’s body is amazing, with broad shoulders and a ridiculously muscular chest under the v-neck. He’s got bulging biceps and long, strong legs that look like they could run ten miles without breaking a sweat. I’m reminded of the Ken dolls I used to have as a little girl because he’s that perfect.

  But that’s where the resemblance ends. Because instead of plastic blonde hair and a corny smile, Brent’s face is more ruggedly chiseled and handsome. His strong jaw is covered with a black stubble, and those lips are molded in a way that’s both masculine and sensitive at once. But it’s his eyes that do me in because once our gazes meet, I feel that the man can see right into my soul.

  Stop it Janie, the voice in my head scolds. Are you insane? You don’t know this guy from the nearest Tom, Dick, or Harry. You’ve been reading too many romance novels and it’s gotten to you.

  But it’s true. There’s something about this man that’s absolutely magnetic. When I walked up to him, my breath caught in my chest because he was too gorgeous. How was I supposed to spend an evening with this male and act normal? It’s impossible, and yet the Earth keeps turning like my world hasn’t been flipped upside down.

  “Hey,” Brent says simply, extending his hand.

  “Um hi,” I stammer like a fool, shaking his huge fist. I’m in a trance, my eyes unable to break away from his, which look at me with something indefinable. What is it? There’s a gleam and a flash, but then his eyes grow shuttered.

  “Nice to meet you,” he says in a deep voice. Shivers snake down my spine and my insides turn to jelly.

  Stop it! the voice in my head speaks again. You’re acting like a junior high girl meeting her boyband hero. Get with it!

  So I take a deep breath and try to appear composed.

  “Nice to meet you too,” I answer. And to my surprise, our hands are still clasped from shaking. Is that supposed to happen? My cheeks go hot and I gasp instinctively. Brent’s so tall, so gorgeous, and somehow so… gentle? Is that the word? It doesn’t suit his frame, but it is what it is. I suddenly imagine him in a war-torn country, crouched in some shelter, covered in dust and sand, and I feel a piercing stab in my gut.

  Before I can stop myself, I’m whispering, “Thank you for your service.” The sternness in his face lifts, and his eyes are surprised, like he’s caught off-guard. But the man nods gruffly.

  “Sure,” he says in a deep growl. “Happy to serve.”

  He finally lets go of my hand, and looks away, breaking the spell. I close my eyes in embarrassment. That was clearly the wrong thing to say. Oof. Stuck my foot in my mouth again.

  “I hope Amy’s okay?” he asks casually, thrusting his hands into his pockets.

  “Um, well, she’s got the flu, but she’ll be okay soon,” I answer. I guess we’re making small talk like normal people. Just as I think that, he lifts his gaze back to my face, looking into my eyes again. No, not small talk after all. Not from the way he’s looking at me, those blue eyes going almost black for some reason another. He swallows, taking a moment, like he’s deciding something.

  “You’re the first civilian to thank me for my service,” he growls. “Aside from my mom, I guess.”

  “Oh really?” I say, hoping it doesn’t sound as stupid to him as it does to me.

  “Yeah.”

  “I would’ve thought people would be, um, more eager? I mean, you literally risked your life.”

  He shrugs, although the look in those blue eyes is intense.

  “No, people seem to give me a wide berth,” he says with a wry smile. “As you can tell, I haven’t really been out all that much since I got back.”

  Actually, I can’t tell except for the mysterious air haunting him. But I smile again.

  “When did you get back?” I parrot, almost like a breathless hanger-on.

  “Five days ago,” he answers. “I’ve been mostly sleeping. And eating my mom’s food. It’s good.”

  I smile at this, and he looks away, suddenly embarrassed. But I want him to keep going.

  “Is everything just as you left it?” I ask gently. He turns back to meet my eyes, those blue eyes searching mine.

  “Um no actually,” it comes out in awkward blocks. “Well, most of it was the same. Except one. My dog died while I was gone.” Judging by the way he averts his eyes as he says this, I can tell this is hard for him. And that it’s relatively new information. My heart goes out to the man, and I put one hand on his muscled arm in sympathy.

  He takes a deep breath.r />
  “She died like a year ago, but my mom didn’t want to tell me while I was gone. Thought it would distract me from my duties,” he shrugs again.

  “It sounds like your mom really cares about you,” I say warmly.

  Brent nods.

  “Yeah, and I mean, I think she made the right choice,” he says. “But it was still a bit of a shock when I came back expecting to find my dog there, and boom! She wasn’t.”

  Oh god. How can such a huge, strong man look so vulnerable? I’m insanely drawn to him, to the sensitive lines around his mouth and the juxtaposition of hurt and strength. Unable to control myself, I place my hand on his arm.

  “I’m sorry to hear about your dog,” I murmur, and Brent relaxes a bit under my touch as if it soothes him. “What was her name?” I add.

  “Goldie,” is his grunt. And then he suddenly smiles. It lights up his whole face, his eyes joining in. It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. My insides churn into mush, making me feel sick with attraction to him. “She was a good girl. She was a golden retriever, and I got her when I twelve. Not much imagination for naming, I guess,” Brent adds wryly. I smile back at him, enjoying his memories.

  “Well, Goldie was a very lucky dog to have been loved so much,” I say. He looks at me incredulously.

  “What?” I ask him, taking my hand off his arm, suddenly terrified I’ve said something wrong. But he grins, taking my hand between his, sending my heart plunging down to my stomach to join my already mushy insides.

  “No, don’t worry,” he says. “It’s just,” he pauses. “You’re so easy to talk to. I guess I can’t believe I’m spilling all this personal stuff and we’ve only just met. Sorry bout that.”

  Relief floods through me.

  “Don’t apologize,” I manage through the awareness of both his hands enveloping mine like he’s holding an injured bird. The gentleness of this huge man is incomprehensible to me. Are these warm, calloused hands the same that held guns and grenades? How is that possible? With shock, I wonder whether he’s killed anyone in the name our country. Had it been in self defense? Or was it offense? Suddenly, I don’t want to know.

  But Brent’s staring at me now, those blue eyes devouring my features.

  “Have we met before? I dunno, you look a little familiar,” he says, looking into my face intently like he’s trying to recall something. I shake my head, perplexed.

  “No. I’m pretty sure we haven’t,” is my murmur. He smiles and I wonder whether I'm going to vomit from the butterflies it sends through my insides. Thank god I didn't end up eating that cheesecake earlier.

  “It’s just that you seem so familiar,” he rumbles again. “Like I knew you in a past life or something.”

  I stare back into his eyes because the connection between us is crazy. I know what he’s talking about. There’s an invisible string binding us together, as if we’re old souls meeting in a new life. I feel like we’re the only two people in the world right now, and everything else has faded into a blur. I blink suddenly, my mind dazed and confused. Because this is what the alpha male does to me – within two minutes, he’s got me eating out of his hand … and desperately wanting more.

  Chapter 4

  BRENT

  “What the hell am I doing?” I think to myself. Because I just met this girl, and I can’t just share all this personal shit with a strange female on a blind date. Janie’s not even the person I was supposed to meet, she’s a substitute. And yet there’s something about the brunette that I can’t put my finger on. She’s so easy to talk to, so soulful and angelic. From the moment she walked up to me, I felt like I knew her. That I could lay my life at her feet and trust her unconditionally.

  But I need to get a grip on this unexpected surge of feelings. It’s probably just because she’s the first person I’ve really spoken to since I’ve been back. That’s what’s wrong with me. I’m a desperate dude who hasn’t interacted with a female in two years. Suddenly, I recall Cole’s advice. Have fun, comes his voice in my head. Let go and live a little. Relax, dude. As a result, I try to pick up the conversation.

  “So how do you know Hillary?” I ask. Janie shrugs, shaking her head.

  “I don’t,” she says. “I’ve never met her. It’s Amy who’s friends with her.”

  “So how do you know Amy?” Shit, it sounds like I’m conducting some kind of interrogation. And the most boring interrogation ever too.

  “We’re roommates,” she answers sweetly. “At college.”

  “Near here somewhere?”

  “Yeah, Smithton. I’m majoring in English Lit,” she adds. “Are you thinking of going?”

  “College? Yeah, maybe. But I don’t like the idea of starting in the middle of school year,” I smile sheepishly, suddenly embarrassed. “I’m a bit of a purist. Call it superstition, but starting something in the middle feels like something bad might happen.” Janie matches my smile and it dazzles me. It’s no use. I can’t deny our chemistry. This girl is gorgeous and everything I could want right now.

  “What would you study?” she asks gently.

  We’re making small talk, but like all small talk, the words aren’t important. I don’t think either of us really cares about what we’re saying. I take in her appearance in more detail, her huge, soft-looking tits that more than fill out the flattering blue dress. I imagine laying my head on her soft chest after fucking her, my cheek against her alabaster skin, allowing her to cradle me to sleep on their milky warmth. Her arms look full and soft under the blue material, and my bet is that her thighs are the same way. Her hands and feet are dainty and plump, and I find myself imagining a huge rock on her left ring finger. Oh shit. A diamond? What is this girl doing to me?

  She’s asking me something, and I answer, making her laugh, revealing a row of perfect white teeth and dimples in her apple cheeks. It’s so easy with her. Everything is so familiar.

  “What a shame we’re going to see a movie,” I say, grinning at her. This makes Janie blush.

  “What do you mean?’ she asks shyly. I shrug, pretending it’s no big deal, but unable to wipe the grin off my face.

  “It’s nice talking to you, I guess,” is my answer. I can tell she’s delighted at this, and unable to meet my eyes now. Is she just as moved as me?

  “Well, good thing we both got here so early,” I say, making a mock show of glancing at my watch. “By like twenty minutes.”

  “Yeah, what’s up with that?” she laughs throatily. “I’m normally never this early for anything!”

  “Well, I just got out of the Army, so that’s my excuse. What’s yours?” I tease.

  She blushes before changing the subject.

  “Well, I guess I was just eager to get here,” she murmurs. “Besides, I don’t think Hillary and her boyfriend Randy even know Amy’s not coming. They’re gonna be surprised when they see me.”

  “Who cares, right?” I smile, shrugging. “It’s no big deal. If I'm happy with you turning up, she won’t care.” Janie glances at me, shyly.

  “Are you?” she asks.

  “Am I what?” I answer. She pauses.

  “Happy with me showing up instead of Amy,” she says, almost whispering. “I know we’re really different.” But how can Janie doubt my satisfaction? I’m just about to tell her this, when a shrill voice interrupts.

  “Brent!” shrieks Hillary from down the street. I whip around as Hillary flings herself into my arms. “Welcome back!” she cries into my shirt. We haven’t seen each other since two Christmases ago, and Hil is the same as always. Completely irrepressible.

  “It’s so good to see you,” she trills. “This is my boyfriend Randy,” she adds, gesturing to the guy next to her. We shake hands, exchange formalities, but my focus is on the beauty who is standing behind me, and whom I know Hillary hasn't noticed yet. I want to introduce her.

  “Amy should be here any minute,” Hillary says, confirming my suspicions while looking around vaguely.

  “Amy’s sick,” I say, sta
rting to turn to let Janie into the conversation.

  “What? How do you know that?” snaps Hillary.

  “This is Janie,” I say, gesturing to Janie, who waves awkwardly. “She’s here instead of Amy.”

  “Hey,” she says shyly. Hillary blinks, not understanding.

  “Sorry, who are you?” she asks Janie. A little impolitely, in my opinion.

  “I’m, um, Janie. Amy couldn’t make it because she’s sick and asked me to come instead?”

  Hillary looks her up and down, saying nothing. I watch Janie swallow nervously.

  “She didn’t tell you, did she?” Janie says softly, cringing a little. I feel a surge of affection for her.

  “No, she didn’t,” sighs Hillary. “But whatever. It’s just a movie. This is my boyfriend, Randy,” she adds, indicating the boy at her side.

  “Hey,” he says with a leering grin. I’m annoyed to see his eyes wander down to Janie’s ample cleavage before feasting on those lush curves.

  “Hey,” she says back, not noticing his creepiness.

  “I see you’ve met Brent,” Hillary adds coldly.

  “Um, yes!” answers Janie good-naturedly, not rising to Hillary’s tone. She and I smile at each other, which for some reason irritates the blonde.