Off Base(50)

But Beck was back now. You don’t have to go there and babysit her.

He pulled a black T-shirt on with angry movements, wondering why that didn’t seem to matter to him. He grabbed his keys and headed out the door. He knew he should probably give them both some space after yesterday. God knew he needed perspective. Or maybe a quick hookup with someone else to help him shake off this unacceptable bout of lust he was feeling toward her.

And yet the image of Huntley sitting alone in Java Joe’s spurred him on.

He told himself he was going there for her, because he couldn’t stand the thought of her sitting all by herself. Because he was her closest friend in this town.

Not because he wanted to see her again. Not because he craved more of last night.

Not because he intended to have her.





Chapter Seven




“You’re a lot prettier than your picture.”

Huntley forced a smile at the compliment. “Thank you.” And you look shorter in person. The thought skidded through her mind as she swapped pleasantries with her date. They stood at the coffee bar, waiting for their drinks. She chafed one hand up and down her arm, pretending not to notice him checking her out.

“I bet your patients never want to go home,” he continued. “Security probably has to drag them out of the ER.”

She smiled again, wondering if they were going to move beyond the inane compliments. According to his profile, they had a lot in common. When were they going to start clicking?

Her favorite barista, Sheridan, set her drink down before her, her purple-tipped red hair bobbing stylishly above her shoulders as she moved. “Here you go, Huntley.”

“Thanks, Sheridan.” She picked up her mug and met the girl’s inquisitive gaze. In the years Huntley had been frequenting Java Joe’s she had never brought a man here. Well, other than Cullen, of course.

“And here’s yours.” Sheridan slid a mug at Greg, her smile slipping. For whatever reason, she did not bestow her usual perky smile on him.

Greg accepted his drink. When his phone started pinging, he fumbled for it in his blazer pocket. Glancing at the screen, he looked up at Huntley through his wire-rimmed glasses. He was cute in a scholarly way. Not muscular. Not a soldier. Her hands might even be larger than his. His hands definitely weren’t like Cullen’s big, capable mitts. Nor like his long, deft fingers that stroked—

STOP. She gave her head a single swift shake. This was the kind of guy she was looking for. Someone gentle and academic, cerebral, who liked to spend his free time at libraries. According to his profile, he made an epic goat cheese frittata.

It would be nice, after a day of mayhem, to return to a home-cooked meal. An image of Cullen’s big body over hers, his hand working between her thighs, making her shudder out her release, flashed across her mind. Sweet Jesus, yes. That would be nice at the end of a hard day too.

“Would you pardon me? It’s my on-call service.”

She blinked, chasing away the inappropriate thoughts. “Of course.”

He ducked toward the back of the coffeehouse.

“Who’s the tool?” Sheridan leaned over the bar to inquire.

Huntley huffed. “He’s a dentist. And very nice.”

“That so? Where’s Cullen?”

Her face flushed. “It’s not my day to watch him.”

Sheridan held up both hands as though to ward off an attack. “Sorry, sorry. Don’t be so touchy. Just thought that there was something between you two—”

“We’re just friends. You know that.”

Sheridan snorted. “Friends with benefits, you mean?”

“No!” She sent a quick look to where her date talked in the corner. He lifted his chin and waved back at her. “It’s not like that with us,” she insisted. Last night it almost turned into that though.

“Well, it should be like that. I’ve watched you two flirting around it forever. I don’t know what’s stopping you from crawling all over that man and licking him from top to bottom.”

Huntley rolled her eyes. “It’s not that simple. We’re just friends,” she insisted, nervously tracing the rim of her cup.

“Does Cullen know that?”

She nodded. “Of course. And he knows I’m dating.” In a way.

“Really? As in, he knows you’re on a date right now? Because here he comes. We should ask him.”

Huntley’s head swiveled to watch as Cullen stepped inside the coffeehouse. Gone was his dress uniform. He was wearing a pair of well-worn, faded jeans and a snug black T-shirt that did amazing things to his chest. Okay, maybe that chest did amazing things for his shirt.

His gaze landed on her. Sheridan leaned closer across the bar to whisper, “Mmm-mm, that man,” she nodded once, “is hotter than two mice f*cking in a wool sock, and if I were you I would hop on him.”

Huntley didn’t even blink at the girl’s colorful speech. She fixed her gaze on Cullen as he advanced.

He stopped before her. “Hey.”

“Hey, Cullen,” Sheridan chimed. “Your usual?”

He gave her a quick glance before looking back at Huntley. “Yes, thanks.”

“What are you doing here?” Huntley blurted, resisting looking over her shoulder to Greg.