No Reservations (Special Ops: Tribute Book 1) (16 page)

Her heart pinched at the memory just as the woman from Connecticut
handed over her credit card. Bridget took it in her hand, eyes wide.

“Can I just put a deposit on a room now?” the older woman
asked. “I’m sure you’ll get booked solid quickly, like all the other inns do for
Commissioning Week. And my husband would love to stay in a place with all the
Pac Man he can play,” she added with a laugh.

Booked solid,
she had said
.
Booked solid. The
two words rolled around pleasantly in her brain as she swiped the woman’s
credit card with a grin and tapped her information into her computer. She loved
the sound of that, and it somehow distracted her from the young family that was
now wandering down to check out the pool table.

She realized in that instant, that her life was meant to be
here in this inn. Not by Tyler’s side. She remembered the many times Leia would
prattle on about destiny, and how if Tyler had been meant to be, it would have
happened.

Maybe her friend was right.

This inn was her dream—her dream since her freshman
year of college. And it would never have been possible if she’d been following
Tyler wherever the Army sent him. And Tyler was right where he belonged, being
a daddy to that sweet little girl and a husband to Bess, whom Bridget somehow
knew she would have befriended if they’d met in a different way, at a different
time.

Suddenly, Bridget could see her future so much more clearly,
without the urge to constantly look back.

The past was the past, and tomorrow was an empty page in a
book waiting to be filled.

“We’re running out of Sam Adams,” Maddox whispered in her
ear, sliding his hand along her waist. “I’m running to the store to pick up
some more. I’ll be back in ten minutes. Anything else you need?”

Just you
, she thought, feeling so lucky at that
moment when she shook her head to Maddox and mouthed a thank you as he backed
toward the door.

Whatever the future held for her, and whomever she spent it
with, she was so glad to be facing it right here at her Shifting Sands inn.

It was past eleven when the last couple left the house. Bridget
kicked off her heels immediately, cursing Leia’s idea of wearing them.

Although if she
had
to face an ex-boyfriend, she’d
admit she was happy to be wearing heels. In fact, she’d have to thank Leia in
the morning—
after
she slept in for several hours.

Sinking into the couch, she moaned as her muscles relaxed
into the down pillows and she lifted her bare feet onto the coffee table in
front of her.

She’d seen him.

She’d seen Tyler.

After they’d parted ways years ago, Bridget had often imagined
bumping into him again. She was in DC back then, so the imaginary meetings
usually occurred at a museum or on the Metro, or in one favorite fantasy,
they’d wound up seated next to each other on a plane headed to a remote island
in the tropics. And they had always gotten back together.

Always
.

Up until that day at Fort Meade when any image she concocted
of Tyler had him flanked with a wife and her adorable daughter.

Then the fantasies disappeared. But the pain continued, even
increased as she tortured herself, punishing herself because she’d let someone
as great as Tyler slip through her fingers.

When she’d moved to Annapolis, she’d hoped—she’d
expected—that she’d never see him again. He was an Army guy, not Navy. She’d
enjoyed thinking that, feeling like she could move on with her life without the
risk of running into him.

Yet seeing him tonight…
She caught herself shaking her head as
she stared at the fireplace that Maddox had filled with tiered candles.

Seeing Tyler was the best thing that could have happened to
her at the best possible time.

“That was a success,” Maddox said, handing her a glass of
wine as he sat beside her.

“You think?” She looked at him, feeling completely
comfortable in his presence.

His eyebrows lifted an inch. “Think? I know. Everyone had a
blast. You’re the talk of the town. I’m betting you’ll have reservations coming
in next week.”

She savored the Riesling that she sipped right now. She
hadn’t dared to drink while she had guests here. But now it was the only way
she might be able to wind down.

Then again, there was one other way she had in mind. She bit
her lip, thinking about how much she wanted to slip away to the bedroom with
Maddox right now.

Her eyes blinked, when his statement finally sunk in. “Actually,
I got a reservation tonight,” she informed him.

“You’re kidding.”

Her smile stretched to reach her eyes. “Nope. It’s for next
year’s Commissioning Week. A retired Admiral and his wife. They come almost
every year.”

Goose bumps raced across her skin as he touched her hip,
easing close to her, and her shoulders went limp at the feel of his lips on her
neck.

“Congratulations.” He kissed her again, lower this time, his
lips caressing right along the seam of her dress along her neckline. “You are
officially in business.”

“I can’t thank you enough for all your help, Maddox.”

He shrugged. “Are you kidding? I had fun tonight.”

“Not just tonight. All week. Why are you so good to me?” She
leaned into him, letting her body fuse into the crook of his shoulder as they
watched the candles flicker.

He chuckled. “Well, my stepbrothers would tell you that I
was trying to get up your skirt.”

“Is that right?”

Still smiling, he carelessly tossed a shoulder upward as he
reached for his beer on the coffee table. “Maybe just a little. But even if I
had kept striking out, I’d still be here. I want to see you succeed at this.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s what you were meant to do. It’s your passion.”

She set down her wine glass and draped one arm over his
shoulder, tugging him closer. “And what’s your passion?”

His sultry smile seduced her. “You.”

Her eyes shut as their lips met, and she would have sworn that
the rest of the world had ceased to exist. She nipped his bottom lip playfully,
and he growled, nudging her backward till she was stretched out on the couch
beneath him. Her phone buzzed in front of her.

“Ignore it,” he implored.

She grinned. “I plan to. But I better turn it off or it will
keep buzzing.” It was Leia, she knew instinctively. Leia was likely texting to
see how Bridget was holding up after seeing Tyler.

She reached for the phone and flicked it off, but not
quickly enough for Maddox to not see the three letters prominently stretched
across her display.

“U OK?” Leia had written.

Bridget smiled sheepishly, flipping over the phone and
sliding it away from them.

Maddox’s features softened and he looked at Bridget with
tenderness in his eyes. “Should I ask that, too? Are you okay?”

“I am. I definitely am.”

“That was an old boyfriend, I’m guessing?”

She sighed. “Tyler. Yeah. We dated for a couple years. Broke
it off when he was stationed at Fort Drum.”

“Fort Drum? He’s Army then?”

“Yeah. A Ranger down in Savannah now. With his wife. And her
daughter.”

“Not
their
daughter?”

“No. I actually met her back when she was pregnant, the day
she ended up popping her out, if you can believe that. That’s when Tyler and I
were dating. Then after we broke up, I guess they found each other.” She reached
for her wine glass, wishing the subject would disappear so that she could feel
his body pressed against hers again. “They seem happy.”

“Did you know he’d gotten married?”

A snort escaped her. “Know about it? I was there when he
proposed.”

“You’re kidding me.”

“Nope. Not kidding.” She was surprised by the laughter in
her voice as she relayed the story to Maddox. For that matter, she was
surprised that she was even willing to share the story, humiliating as it was.

“How awful for you,” he sympathized when she reached the
point in her tale when she’d finally managed to dash back to her car unseen by
anyone.

“Yeah. But at least they didn’t see me.”

He eased back into the pillows. “If you loved him so much
that you showed up that day, why did you break up in the first place?”

Now her grin faded.

Concern washed over his face. “I’m sorry. You don’t have to
tell me.”

“No, no. It’s just—” She leaned back, expelling a long
breath. “—it’s hard to put into words. I let him think that there were
too many miles between us. He was in upstate New York and I was in DC with too
busy of a schedule to visit him. But it was more than that. He had just gotten
out of Ranger School when he moved to Fort Drum. He wasn’t actually assigned to
the Ranger Regiment yet. But he wanted it. And not just the Rangers. He was ambitious,
talking about all these elite jobs, you know? Some with the White House that
require a clearance even higher than Top Secret. He had to stay squeaky clean
for those kind of jobs, he’d always tell me.” Her frown deepened as she looked
at him. “They’d even look at his wife if he got married, you know? Make sure
that there weren’t any skeletons in my closet that might influence him down the
road.”

His features softened. “And you were worried about your
dad’s criminal record.”

“Yeah. It haunted me all the time.”

“You never told him? About your dad?”

She shook her head. “I should have. I know. But with
Tyler—I don’t know—I always felt like I had to be so damn perfect. He
was such a Type A. Like I was back then. And he always seemed to be impressed
with that side of me—constantly bragging about my LSAT scores or how I
got a lot of scholarships in college. Things like that. I thought that’s what
he wanted from me. I felt like he wanted me to be perfect. So anyway, when
things started to get difficult for us, I didn’t fight it. I just let the break
up happen naturally.” She downed the last of her wine. “It was mutual. Just a
phone conversation. Nothing dramatic.”

“And you regretted it.”

“Big time.”

“Do you still regret it?”

“If you had asked me that last week, I probably would have
said yes. But not now. Not in the slightest.”

A grin slid across his face as he pulled her close. “You
know, I’m just ego-centric enough to hope that’s because of me.”

She tipped her head thoughtfully. “It’s because of who I am
when I’m with you.” As she said it, she realized she had told Maddox within
days what she’d never managed to tell Tyler in years. There was something
special about having Maddox in her life that let her feel comfortable with
everything about her—past, present, and future. Or maybe it was because
she had finally outgrown the shackles that she’d let weigh her down for so
long.

“Even better answer,” he responded, smothering her in a kiss
that sent torches racing through her veins as he pulled her close. Finally
breaking to catch his breath, he glanced around the room at the empty platters,
glasses, and beer bottles surrounding them. “How about we clean this mess up?”

“I think the mess can wait till morning.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Mmhmm. And I can’t.” She grinned as he pulled her into his
arms and carried her towards her bedroom.

“Wait. Let’s go to your room,” she suggested.

“Why?”

“Well, think about it. This will likely be the only time I’ll
ever get to have sex in a guest’s room.”

“I like the sound of that,” he laughed, carrying her up the
staircase with ease. Mouths melded, she felt the light trace of his tongue
along her teeth. Her hands skimmed over his shoulders, savoring the feel of his
strength beneath her fingertips.

He nudged the door open with his hip and lowered her onto
the bed, devouring her with his gaze.

“Roll over.” His tone was all command, and she obliged.

Unable to see him as he settled above her, pinning one knee
to either side of her, her body rejoiced when she heard the sound of her back
zipper start to open. His lips caressed her and she felt his fingers unsnap her
bra, then fan themselves out against her back. Adeptly, he kneaded the tight muscles
and she relaxed completely in response, except for the heat she felt building
in her core.

“You’ve worked hard today.” His voice was a seductive
murmur. “I think a little massage might be needed.”

She opened her mouth to reply, but her voice was lost in a
flood of sensations as he worked the muscles in her back with his strong, rough
hands. It felt alternately sinful and heavenly, her body relaxing at the same
time she was being drawn tight by the carnal need to join with him. His fingers
worked her, moving from her mid-back to her shoulders and then downward to
where her dress still covered her.

Sliding a hand between her skin and the dress, he pulled her
upward slightly, his grip falling to one of her breasts. She drew in a sharp
breath at the sensation as he pulled her arms out of the sleeves, and then
lowered her torso back onto the bed. After tugging the dress off her hips, he
stretched it out neatly on the bed next to them.

“You looked beautiful in this dress.”

She could feel his breath against her back as he whispered
the words.

“But even more beautiful out of it,” he completed.

His lips traced along the back of her shoulders as his hands
continued to massage her lower back, and then lower still until the pads of his
fingers slid beneath her panties. His palm pressed into her ass, kneading the
soft skin, and she moaned in response. Heat spiraled in her and as her body
arched instinctively, her core pressing against the mattress, rubbing slightly
against the duvet as his hands moved downward to her thighs, her calves, her
feet. Every part of her body relaxed under his touch, except for one bundle of
nerves that ached for release.

Bending one of her legs at the knee, his fingers pressed
into the arch of her foot, soothing the tiny bones that had been crammed into an
uncomfortable shoe all evening. She expelled a satisfied moan.

“Feels so good,” she managed to say. Where had he learned to
do this? And where had he been before, when she’d needed such a massage after
every work day in DC?

She could only be grateful for his presence in her life now,
as his hands moved to her other foot, and later to the aching muscles in her
calves once again.

It might have been a few minutes that had passed, or it
might have been hours. Her mind was in a haze when he rolled her over and began
massaging her quads. Only then did she notice she was completely naked under
his gaze; she hadn’t a clue when her panties had left her, and she didn’t
rightly care because when his hands moved from her thighs to her hips, she was
grateful to have no barrier between her and his hands.

“Forget ice cream,” she murmured. “I think you should be a masseuse.
I’d pay good money for one of your massages.”