His hand caressed her hip. “You’re the one who’s sexy hot.”
She wasn’t going to be one of those women who told her guy she should lose weight. Those words always seemed to need a follow-up of a man telling her how wrong she was. Truth was, she wasn’t unhappy in her skin. Rick seemed to enjoy her . . . thoroughly.
The ink on his arm circled his biceps with decorative black and red Xs. “So what’s the story behind this one?”
He lifted his arm, flexed his biceps. Damn he’s hot. “Marines plus alcohol. Everyone on our team left with something.”
“Do you miss the service?”
He sighed, the hum in his chest tickled her ear. “Sometimes. But I won’t go back.”
“Did it end badly?”
“It did.” He leaned to his side and she saw a white scar across his flank. “Our last mission,” he explained. “I was one of the lucky ones. Mac and I made it out alive.”
“Mac?”
“Neil. We called him Mac.”
“What did they call you?”
“Smiley.”
She laughed, loved the feeling inside her. “I’ve heard Neil call you that. Fitting. It’s easy to tell when you’re serious. Those dimples go away.”
“My grandmother still pinches my cheeks when she sees me.”
“Gotta love family. My aunt Belle is convinced my sister Rena conceived her son before she was married. Never lets anyone forget about it.”
“Was it a shotgun wedding?”
“I don’t know gestational periods in humans to be eleven months. Not that it would matter. Rena and Joe are very happy.” She lifted her head and kissed the tattoo on his shoulder. “What about this one?” On close inspection, it looked like a bleeding star. It was beautiful in a strange kind of way.
His silence made her look into his eyes. The lack of dimples made her pause.
“That one’s for Roxy.”
“A woman?” Now she was sorry she asked.
“My sister.”
Oh. Judy wasn’t expecting that. “I take it you’re close.”
“We were. She died when she was seventeen.”
“Oh, Rick. I’m sorry I asked.”
He kissed the top of her head and encouraged her to lie back on his chest by stroking her hair.
“It was a long time ago.”
She was about to ask if he wanted to tell her about it when he started in with the story.
“Roxy had a big fight with her high school boyfriend and when he left all pissed off he took a curve too fast. Stupid kid. He didn’t survive and Roxy blamed herself.”
She closed her eyes with the image of a teenager dead, another one broken. “It wasn’t her fault.”
“Hard for a young kid to accept. She fell into a depression that left her hospitalized. I used to spend time just sitting with her, talking to her about life . . . anything to make her smile. I thought she was coming out of it toward the end of her junior year. We took dance lessons together and I took her to prom.” He grew quiet again.
“What happened?”
He sucked in a deep breath.
“You don’t have to tell me.”
“It’s OK. She a . . . she slit her wrists, and when that didn’t seem to do anything she took a handful of sleeping pills in a bathtub.”
“Oh, Rick . . . did you find her?”
He shook his head. “No. My mother has to live with that memory.”
Judy looked at him now, saw the shadow of his sister’s death in his eyes. “How awful.”
“I joined the Marines the day after her funeral.”
“It must have been hard on you . . . your parents.”
“I worked my grief out in boot camp and spent every day trying to stay alive . . . make a difference. Now when I think of her I remember the good times, her laugh. This star reminds me to keep going . . . no matter how hard life might be.”
She kissed the star again. “And you’ve been playing hero for the world ever since.”
“Ah, Utah,” he said, cupping her face and drawing her closer. “I don’t mind playing hero for you. The world at large can go bite themselves.” His kiss was tender, just like the way he made love.
She drew away and sucked in his beautiful eyes. “The world needs more heroes.”
“The people close to the hero keep him fueled . . . that person for me is you.”
Judy knew his words took a chunk of her heart and handed it to him with a big red bow. “I like being your fuel.”
He tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. “You’re not scared anymore?”
Only two things scared her at this point . . . the threat of the police taking Rick away, and her attacker returning. “Not of you . . . not of this.” She shifted a finger to both their chests.
He made love to her again, slowly, with soft words and occasional laughter. Dreams of laughter and lazy beach days helped her sleep the entire night.
“It’s four thirty, woman! The day’s half over.”
A hand slapped her naked ass, crashing all her dreams. “What the?”
Rick climbed over her, fully clothed in shorts and a tight T-shirt, and kissed her briefly. “My workouts are early, babe. We gotta go, get sweaty, and get you back here showered and dressed before work.”
Judy glared through slitted eyelids. “It’s dark outside.”
“It won’t be when we start running. C’mon. I’ll wake Meg.”
“Wait! I didn’t even tell her about the workout yet.”
“Saw her last night in the kitchen when I went for water. Told her to be ready bright and early.”
Judy nodded toward the dark window. “It’s not so bright, buddy.”
Rick pulled the warm blankets back, leaving her cold and bare to his stare.
She squealed.
He licked his lips. “Tempting . . . so tempting.” He slapped her butt instead.
Right as the sun started to make an appearance Rick had her and Meg running up a long trail and back down as a warm-up. On the second lap they stopped at a station where Rick had them doing push-ups. Every time she dropped, he was there to push her to do five more. All the while, he’d switch between one-handed push-ups, or one-leg push-ups . . . anything to make it harder on himself. Meg cussed like a sailor halfway through the circuit and swore revenge. “I need coffee for this shit.”
“Coffee is your reward, Margaret Catherine,” Rick teased. “Now get your chin over that bar.”