Chapter 9 #2
Monica swallowed hard and looked over at Stuart.
It was ridiculous that he could be so damn good-looking after working out for an hour and a half or more.
He had white salt lines on his T-shirt where he’d sweated and the cotton had dried.
His hair was sticking up all over his head and his face was scruffy from the overnight growth of his beard.
She could even smell him from where she was sitting…
and it wasn’t exactly a fresh, clean scent either.
But all of that didn’t do a damn thing to diminish her attraction to the man.
Monica should’ve been freaking out about the revelation. Instead, all she could do was stare into his dark brown eyes…and wonder if they’d be the same color when he was aroused.
Shit.
She had to get her mind out of the gutter and concentrate on what he was saying.
“—will be fun. And if for any reason you aren’t having a good time, you just need to let me know and we’ll leave.”
Monica blinked. “What?”
“If you’re miserable, let me know somehow. We can even come up with some sort of cue so no one else will notice, and I’ll bring you back here. There’s a new book that came out this week that you haven’t had a chance to read yet, right? You can snuggle up in your room and read.”
Monica could only stare at him. She had, in fact, told Stuart about a book that had just been published that she wanted to read, but hadn’t realized he was paying such close attention.
And the fact that he would be willing to leave an outing with his friends for her, someone he’d just met and who would probably be leaving his life soon, floored her.
Wait…what was she saying? Probably? There was no probably about it. She would be leaving.
“Mo?” Stuart asked, the concern easy to hear in his tone.
“Sorry, I’m listening. And I’ll be fine.”
“I don’t want you to be fine,” he said. “I want you to genuinely have a good time. And you don’t have to talk or drink in order to do that.
Elodie, Lexie, and Kenna are pretty damn funny.
And if Ashlyn shows up, it’ll be even crazier.
Wait until you see Slate and her go at each other.
They both like each other but don’t want to admit it. It’s pretty hilarious.”
A pang Monica had never felt before gripped her. She didn’t have a close group of friends. And listening to Stuart talk about the others made her long for what she’d never had.
“How about this, if you tug on your right earlobe, I’ll know you want to leave,” Stuart suggested.
Monica stared at him for a beat, before her lips quirked upward. Then she was laughing so hard, she almost spilled her coffee.
“What?” Stuart asked, smiling at her.
“Tug on my earlobe?” Monica asked. “For a SEAL, someone who’s supposed to be some sort of super-soldier-spy type person, that’s really lame.”
Stuart’s smile didn’t wane. “Okay, what do you suggest?”
She was glad she didn’t offend him. “I don’t know, but jeez, that’s like out of some cheesy spy movie for sure.”
“I like you like this,” Stuart said.
Monica wrinkled her nose. “Like what?”
“Happy.”
She had to admit that she liked herself like this too. But she didn’t say that out loud. “How about if I want to leave, I just tell you?” she suggested.
“Okay, Mo. That’ll work.”
Stuart settled back against his chair again and inhaled deeply.
“So…you grew up in Alaska?” Monica asked. She had no idea why he got a huge smile on his face at her question, but he nodded.
“Yup. In Palmer, which is a small town north of Anchorage. There were only around seven thousand people who lived there, which gave it quite an intimate feel. And by that, I mean everyone knew everyone else’s business.” He chuckled.
“Was it cold?” Monica asked.
“It was Alaska, so yeah,” he teased. “But I didn’t think much about it, because I was so used to it.
The thing people always complained about was how short the days were in the winter, but I loved—and still love—the dark.
We didn’t live north enough to get darkness for twenty-four hours, but in the middle of winter, there’s only about four hours of sunlight a day.
And of course in the summer, it’s the opposite.
It was hell on my mom to try to get my sister and me in bed when it was still so light outside.
Everyone has blackout curtains on their windows for the summer. ”
“It’s hard for me to imagine.”
“I’ll…” Stuart’s voice trailed off.
“You’ll what?” Monica asked.
“Nothing. It’s a unique place to live for sure. My parents love it there and will never leave.”
She wondered what he didn’t say. Had he been about to say he’d show it to her? No, that would be crazy, considering she was only a temporary housemate. “So they’re still there?” she asked.
“Yup. Both are healthy and happy. Mom volunteers at one of the homeless shelters and my dad is a doctor at the Alaska Heart and Vascular Institute.”
“Wow. Impressive.”
Stuart shrugged. “He’s just dad to me. One day he’s annoying me, and the next I’m so proud of him I can’t stand it.”
Monica couldn’t imagine what that was like.
“I’m sorry.”
She looked over at Stuart. “For what?”
“For talking about my family too much.”
“I asked,” Monica said. “And you have nothing to be sorry for. Just because you had a great upbringing and family, and I didn’t, doesn’t mean you need to apologize for that.”
“I just hate that you didn’t have the same,” Stuart said.
“Me too. But I think I’m doing all right,” Monica said.
And for the first time in a long time, she actually believed it.
She’d been told so many times that she’d never amount to anything.
That she was only good for being a breeder.
That her worth in life was tied to making sure a man was able to slake his needs on a regular basis and keeping a clean house.
But in the last few weeks, having more time to actually think about herself and her life, Monica realized that Stuart may be right…
she was pretty damn strong. She’d lived through shit people wouldn’t believe if she told them.
Flexing her left hand, Monica stared down at her mangled fingers. Yeah, it was safe to say she’d survived pretty well, despite her fucked-up childhood.
“You good?” Stuart asked.
The concern in his tone had her turning away from the sight of her stubs. “Yeah, I am,” she told him, meaning it.
“Good. You showered yet?”
“Nope.”
“You want to go first, or me?”
Monica wrinkled her nose comically and said, “You. Definitely.”
“Hey,” he protested. “Are you trying to tell me I smell?”
“Not trying, I am telling you that,” she told him.
She could only stare at Stuart as he threw his head back and laughed. God, she could sit and stare at him all day. It wasn’t a hardship, that was for sure.
“Fine. I’ll go. You had breakfast?”
“No. But I can make something while you’re in the shower,” she told him.
“Nope. I got it. How about scrambled eggs, bacon, and biscuits with gravy?”
“I’m not sure I need to eat that much.”
“We’ll be walking around a lot today. You’ll burn it off.” Stuart stood, then shocked the hell out of Monica by leaning over and kissing the top of her head.
It was a spontaneous gesture. Even he looked taken aback by what he’d done.
“Sorry…I didn’t mean to cross a line there.”
“It’s okay,” Monica said, glancing up at him.
Stuart stared for a beat, as if to make sure she meant it, then nodded. “Okay, I’m headed in.” He mock-glared at her. “No going into the kitchen, woman, I mean it. I’ve got breakfast.”
“All right. I won’t. I’ll sit right here and count chickens until you’re done,” Monica said.
“Good. I have a feeling you haven’t gotten to relax enough in your life.” Then he turned and headed inside.
Monica could feel her heart beating hard—and for the first time, she worried that the longer she stayed with Stuart, the more feelings she’d develop for him.
Her dad would be thrilled she was falling for a military guy, but less than pleased that Stuart was so honorable. He’d definitely think his teammates were pussies for showing so much affection for their women. He’d hate Stuart for being gentle with her.
She couldn’t remember one time when her dad had made a meal for her and her mother. He’d expected them to do all of the “womanly” things around the house. Cooking, cleaning, mending their clothes…all of it. He sat around and complained about anything and everything while they did it too.
The fact that Stuart frequently insisted on cooking was so far outside what she was used to, it wasn’t even funny. But Monica liked it. A lot. Not being waited on, but the fact that Stuart was willing to do his share of the domestic work around the house.
Monica had never lived with a man since moving out of her father’s house. Being the hired help didn’t count. She wasn’t a guest in the houses she lived in, but an employee. She was expected to care for the children, doing whatever was necessary to keep them fed, happy, and entertained.
Living with Stuart was unlike anything she could’ve imagined. In a good way.
Drinking the last of the coffee in her cup, Monica stood and headed inside.
Stuart never took very long in the shower, and suddenly she was excited to get the day started.
She wanted to see all of the sights he’d mentioned…
and there was even a spark, a small one, of anticipation for dinner with his friends later that evening.