“No, they both leave me wondering if you’re wearing a bra.” His smile did something funny to her stomach. That warm zing of heat shot through it quickly.
She wet her lips. “What is it with you and my underwear?”
“I’m a guy. You’re hot. I like the idea that you’re pretty much naked under that dress because it means I could get you out of your clothes that much faster.” There was a husky heat to his voice as he spoke the words.
Taran stopped walking and turned to look at him. In the dark of the evening, she could only see the outline of his blond hair. She couldn’t see the two-toned brown eyes, but she could feel their gaze. He cupped her cheek in his calloused palm. Her eyes fluttered shut as the warmth from his hand spread over her entire body. She didn’t understand how a simple touch could be so hot. A glance from his brown eyes, a heated smile, a caress of a warm hand—that was all it took to flip her stomach and get her heart pounding.
“Hmm, hmm.” A cough came from behind her.
She turned to see Danny standing on the path a few feet back. Taran was glad for the interruption, even if part of her wished he wasn’t standing there. She wasn’t ready for whatever Corey wanted.
“I know I’m really on your list right now. But they think it’s funny so they made me come find you. It’s time for the shot bag.” Danny cringed at Corey’s death glare.
Corey sighed, and he rubbed his thumb against her cheek before dropping his hand and stepping back. “Come on, I’ll get you another one of those pink girly things.”
Taran smiled at him. Corey took a few steps and whispered to Danny before he reached for her hand. It had been a long time since Taran felt the warmth of a big calloused hand wrap around hers protectively. Standing there being wrapped in an oversized tux coat that smelled like Obsession for Men and holding hands with a man felt a lot more intimate than any kiss could have. She wasn’t sure she wanted intimacy.
“I think I deserve credit for bringing you two back together,” Danny said from ahead of them.
“Danny.” It was one word.
Just one.
But Taran got the idea that it said a lot of things. Danny must have gotten that impression too, because he shut up.
Corey stopped on the porch that wrapped around the enormous white country club. He turned and looked down at her.
“If this wasn’t a family tradition, I’d probably blow it off, but I have to go with the guys,” he explained.
Taran laughed. “Danny left me for pictures and never came back. I think I’ll be fine without you,” she assured him.
Corey frowned. “You’re not dating Danny,” he informed her. “Give me ten minutes.”
She nodded and let him go. It was better this way. She didn’t want him overpowering her with all his hot Captain America mojo. When he was around, she focused on him; she couldn’t seem to stop herself. But what she needed to do was go in, let the last wife have her thank-you, and then leave. It had been a long day, and she wanted it to be over.
Instead of moving, though, she watched Corey walk up to the pack of Evanses, and she could tell instantly that this was a tradition all nine guys enjoyed. Taran turned toward Morgan. No one could miss the beautiful bride in a dress made for Cinderella. The lace wrapped her upper body tight before it gave way to a skirt meant for a princess. She looked every part the fairy tale tonight, and she should—it was her special day.
Morgan waved her over to where she was sitting at a table full of people Taran didn’t know. She wasn’t only Nick’s wife, but she was the sister of one of the SEALs killed in Syria that day over two years ago.
“One minute,” Morgan said to her family before turning to Taran. “I’m not sure you want to hear this, but thank you. My brother…we were able to bury him because you helped get him home.” She reached out her hand and placed it on Taran’s arm. “Thank you for protecting Nick. For helping get him unpinned from under the hummer. For keeping him alive for me.”
Instead of releasing Taran’s arm, Morgan held on tighter. Taran looked directly above her head, like she had with every other sailor’s wife, unable to meet their eyes, and nodded.
“I know your forever died that day, but I can’t express what it means that you saved mine,” Morgan continued.
Taran nodded again. She should have said something, but her voice wouldn’t hold the right emotions. Morgan would expect her to be sad. Jeremy had died that day. He had died in that second car, one car behind her. And then she’d carried his body out of the car and back to the base so she could bury him. She should have had the white dress, the rings, the party. Instead, she had a black one, a gravestone, and a cold emptiness.
Seabass came up again beside the women. Morgan smiled at him.
“Enjoy the rest of the party,” Taran said before she walked away.
“You and Matthews a real thing?” Seabass asked, following her. There was a hopeful tone to his voice.
Everyone wanted her to move on. But she didn’t want to give him that false hope.
She shook her head and took Corey’s coat off her shoulders. She just needed to find his place card to leave the coat; her night was done. She had finished what Nick had asked of her. And if there was one person in the group she owed, it was Nick. Although Nick gave her credit for helping that day, she knew if not for him, they never would have gotten Jeremy out of the hummer. If Nick hadn’t risked himself, if he hadn’t gone into the unstable hummer to get Jeremy out, leaving himself pinned under the car, she never would have gotten his body back to the US. She owed him.
It wasn’t hard to find Corey’s place card. There were two tables of Evanses. She was at one; he at the other.
“T-cup,” Seabass called out.
She sighed before she turned.
“You and Matthews?” he asked again.
She went with the only truth she could give him. “He’s an Evans, and they’re all my friends.”
With that, it was time to go, because if there was something she was good at, it was running away.