Page 60 of Operation K-9 Brothers
“Stop!”Jack put his hands over his ears.
It was all just too hilarious, and unable to hold back any longer, Nichole burst into laughter.The two ladies were a hoot, and that they could cause a strapping SEAL’s face to turn fire-engine red was an added bonus.
“Not funny,” Jack grumbled.
Oh, but it was.
After ordering something to drink while they waited for Deke and Heather to arrive, Jack shifted to face Nichole.They were seated at a table at one of Asheville’s sidewalk restaurants.A full moon hung low in the cloudless sky, not far from them a street musician softly strummed his guitar as his raspy voice sang a ballad, and next to him was a beautiful girl, making for a perfect summer night.
“Grammie called this afternoon.Made me promise to bring you back next Saturday.Apparently, you’re her new favorite person.”
Somehow they’d all ended up going out to breakfast this morning—him, Nichole, Grammie, Harold, and Mary.There had been much laughter at his expense, which he’d pretended to grump about but hadn’t at all minded.
The way Nichole had quickly bonded with his grandmother and Mary had only solidified his conviction that he wanted Nichole past the expiration date he’d originally set in his mind.He didn’t want her to merely be a pleasant memory when he returned to his team.He wanted more...much more.
“I love your grandmother.Both her and Mary are a riot.”
“If you say so.”His grin betrayed the grumpy attitude he was going for.
“Deny it all you want, but I saw you trying not to laugh all through breakfast.”
He shrugged, unable to deny it.
“When Mary asked our waiter for his phone number, telling him she was a cougar on the prowl for fresh meat, I almost spit out my coffee.”She grinned at him.“And you.Your coffee went down the wrong pipe.I thought for a minute that you were going to choke to death.”
He’d thought so, too.“It was a close call.”Breakfast had been Dirty Mary Unplugged.Even their waiter—who’d miraculously managed to sidestep Mary’s questing fingers—had ended up laughing so hard that he’d been distracted, refilling Harold’s coffee cup until it overflowed.
“That’s a beautiful song,” she said, her gaze on the street musician.
“It is,” he answered, his gaze on her.He wasn’t sure what he did to deserve her but felt like the luckiest son of a bitch right now.
Their waiter returned with Nichole’s glass of wine and his locally brewed beer.That was one of the things he loved about his town, all the microbreweries putting out some damn good beers.
After the waiter left, he lifted his mug.“To my gorgeous girlfriend.”
“Oh, and who’s that?”
“Dirty Mary, who else?”He smiled, loving that low, throaty sound when she laughed.“Silly girl.I mean you.”
He’d hesitated to use the word, not sure if she was ready for the label, but he was.And wasn’t that a trip?A damn good one, though.If she was on the same wavelength as he, that was.
“How many girlfriends have you had?”she asked.
“Only one that was serious before you, the one I told you about.What about you?”
“Well, you know about Lane.”She swirled her finger around the rim of her wineglass, and he suspected that being linked to Gregory embarrassed her.
He took her hand, linking their fingers.“Yeah, we don’t have to talk about him.Any other boyfriends?”
A soft smile curved her lips.“A few, but the only really serious one was my first boyfriend, Tate.”
As she told him about her motorcycle-riding bad boy from high school who’d stolen her heart and then had died riding his bike, Jack tried not to be jealous of a dead boy.
“I’ve given it a lot of thought, and I think I saw Lane as a way to recreate a time in my life when I was really happy.At first, he reminded me of Tate.”She shrugged.“Until he showed his real colors.”
“That makes sense.You never had closure with Tate, never got to see what could be with him.”
“Well, I was sure wrong about Lane.”Golden-brown eyes peered up at him.“After him, I decided I didn’t like being girlfriend material.”
