Seducing the Marine. Kate Hoffmann

He wasn’t sure exactly where he was, but he’d find his bearings sooner or later, though the snow piled up in front of the buildings and the dim light from the streetlamps made it tricky.

      He headed toward a bright light, and when he finally reached it, he stopped and stared up at the hospital. “Shit,” Will muttered. Was this where he’d been headed all along? He’d taken the most direct route, just a fifteen-minute walk from the rink.

      It was as though some strange magnetic force had drawn him here. She’d left the rink a half hour before. She was probably still inside, setting Benny’s broken bone. He glanced around the parking lot and spotted her SUV.

      There were things to be said, he mused. An apology, or maybe an explanation for his behavior. And there were things to be done—like kiss her again. He stared at the hospital and ruled out going inside. Over the past four months, he’d spent far too much time trapped by the sterile walls of a hospital, surrounded by the specter of death.

      Will crossed to Olivia’s car and leaned against the passenger-side door, deciding to wait until she came outside.

      The frigid wind bit into his face, and Will crossed his arms over his chest in an attempt to conserve his body heat. He’d weathered much worse in Afghanistan. Brutal conditions that wore a man down. But that had been before he’d been softened by days spent flat on his back in a hospital bed.

      He tried the passenger-side door and found it locked, then circled the car, running his hands inside the wheel wells until he found what he was looking for—a magnetic key holder. He slid it open and found a spare key, then unlocked the passenger door and hopped inside.

      As he stared out at the snowstorm, illuminated by the parking lot lights, Will thought about what he planned to say to Olivia. The military had taught him to always have a plan, a strategy, for every mission he undertook. A way in and a way out. But his brain just didn’t seem to work right lately. He’d never been impulsive or unpredictable—until now.

      “What the hell am I doing?” he murmured, his breath clouding in front of his face. He reached for the door and at the same moment, the door locks clicked and beeped. At first she didn’t see him, but then she looked up and a surprised cry burst from her lips.

      Will brushed his hood off his head and held up his hand. “It’s me. Will.”

      Olivia pressed her hand to her head. “Good Lord, you scared me. What are you doing out here?”

      “I didn’t want to wait inside,” he muttered. “How’s Benny?”

      “He’s fine,” she said softly.

      “Is he? Or are you just required to say that?”

      “I’m required to say that,” she replied.

      “Is it serious?”

      “Yeah, if it’s what I suspect, it’s serious. But not life threatening. And that’s all I can say. How did you get here?”

      “I walked,” he said.

      “It’s freezing out. The windchill is dangerous and you’re still recovering.” She drew a deep breath and shook her head. “You need to get yourself a car.”

      “I can’t drive,” he said. “My vision is still a little wonky from the concussion.”

      She studied him for a long moment, then nodded. “Would you like to grab a cup of coffee?”

      “I’d rather have a drink,” Will said.

      “Well, I can’t drink since I’m on call until midnight. But I suppose I could find something nonalcoholic to enjoy.”

      “Coffee is good,” he said. “I don’t sleep anyway, so what the hell. I’ll live dangerously.”

      She reached out to start the SUV. Will watched her, his heart slamming in his chest. He relished the attraction between them and the desire that had raced through his veins the instant he’d kissed her. And though there could be no future in anything they shared, that wouldn’t stop him from wanting her. She was like a drug, a wonderful high that made him feel human again.

      Then he reconsidered. Could he be so selfish? To take what he wanted without offering anything in return? He’d lived in a world of moral ambiguity for such a long time, Will wasn’t sure what was right or wrong anymore. “You know, maybe we shouldn’t do this.”

      “We shouldn’t have coffee? That’s all this is, Will. Just two friends.” She glanced over at him. “We have a new coffee shop in town. It’s really nice. And warm. Why don’t we go there?”

      He cleared his throat. “Maybe I should just tell you what I came here to say.”

      “All right,” she said. “And then I have a few things I need to say myself.”

      “You go first,” Will said.

      “No, you go. I can wait.”

      He took a deep breath and nodded. “All right. So.”

      “So,” she repeated.

      “I guess I want to say that...I shouldn’t have kissed you. I don’t know what got into me, but I regret what I did. And—and I don’t want you to think that I expect us to take up where we left off.”

      “It was just a kiss,” she said.

      “Yeah, but— It just—” It had meant something to him, Will mused. He wasn’t sure what it was, but it had moved him in ways he couldn’t explain. “I didn’t want you to think I had some plan to seduce you. That wasn’t why I kissed you.”

      “It’s okay, I understand. It’s been over for years. And I know you’d never try to take advantage. I guess I’d just like to be...friends?”

      “You really think that’s possible?” he asked.

      Liv nodded. “Yes, I do. Well, maybe not if you keep kissing me. Or sneaking into my car and scaring the crap out of me.”

      “I’m not going to do that again,” he assured her. “Sneak into your car, that is. I make no promises about the kissing you.” He couldn’t resist flirting with her. It wasn’t quite the same rush he’d gotten from kissing her, but it was close.

      “Well, I think we can have a cup of coffee without tearing each other’s clothes off. As friends. Old friends.”

      “Absolutely,” he said. He put his seat belt on and she started the Lexus. She pulled out of the hospital parking lot and headed back into town.

      “Does it feel good to be home?” she asked, her gaze fixed on the swirling snow.

      “It’s strange. This town is familiar, yet different. Like you.”

      “I feel old. Please don’t tell me I look old.”

      “You’re beautiful,” he murmured. “You do look older, but it suits you.”

      “You look different, too. Manly,” she said with a soft laugh. “You’ve filled out.” She stole a sideways glance. “Elly didn’t tell me you’d been shot. Twice.”

      “She doesn’t know,” Will said. “It happened a long time ago. And it wasn’t serious. Unlike with the bomb, I was in and out of the hospital in a week.”

      “Tell me about the bomb,” she said. “You suffered a head injury?”

      “An IED exploded behind me. I was wearing a bomb suit, but I was thrown about fifteen feet into a stone wall. I had head trauma and a detached retina. A bunch of broken ribs, a cracked vertebra and a punctured lung.”

      “An IED? What is that?”

      “Improvised explosive device,” he explained. “A homemade bomb.”

      “And this bomb suit. You wear it all the time?”

      “No, only when I’m defusing bombs.