Cinderella's Sweet-Talking Marine

Friendly fire. Under investigation. She’d only registered part of what the uniformed representative had said six weeks ago. Johnny had been buried with full military honors. She’d been given a folded flag as an official remembrance.

But Ellie couldn’t think about that now. She had a job to do. She couldn’t afford to give the manager of this dive any excuse to fire her. She needed the money.

The newcomer was still staring at her. She could feel his eyes on her, but his gaze didn’t have the smarmy feel of so many of the others. He wore jeans and a black T-shirt, which was common enough attire in this part of the country. But he wore them with a confidence that stood out. He stood out.

And he was walking toward her.

Great. Now she’d have to deal with him. Well, better to confront before being confronted. Keeping her smile cool and her voice equally so, she said, “Thanks again for your help.”

“I need to talk to you.”

Yeah, right. How many times had she heard that line since she’d started waitressing. Come on, honey, sit down and talk to me. “Sorry, but I’m very busy right now.”

“Ellie,” he began when she interrupted him.

“How do you know my name?”

“Can we go someplace to talk?”

“No.” The intense way he was looking at her made her nervous.

“I’m not here to hurt you. I’ve come to help.”

Yeah, right. “As I said, I’m busy right now.”

“This man bothering you?” Earl, the burly bartender, demanded. A professional wrestler in a previous life, Earl’s smooth head was as buffed as his muscular arms.

The newcomer didn’t appear the least bit intimidated. “Where were you when that drunk customer was bothering her?” he demanded of Earl.

“Serving drinks, that’s where I was. I may have missed that action but I can still take you out if I have to.”

“There’s no need for that,” Ellie said, putting her hand on Earl’s beefy arm, just above the barbed wire tattoo and below the one of a bulldog.

“Former Marine?” the newcomer asked Earl who nodded.

The newcomer then lifted the cuff on his T-shirt to show his own bulldog tattoo.

“Ooh-rah!” Earl shouted, startling Ellie and half the guys at the bar.

“Ooh-rah!” the newcomer repeated, just as intensely if not as loudly before slapping Earl’s outstretched hand in a high five. “Captain Ben Kozlowski,” he said to Earl. “Do you mind if I talk to Ellie here for a few minutes? It’s official business.”

Her heart stopped. “Is it Johnny? Did they make a mistake? Is he still alive?”

She vaguely saw Ben shake his head before the entire room telescoped and went black.

Ben caught Ellie before she collapsed onto the floor. Sweeping her up into his arms, he followed Earl’s hurried directions to the employee’s exit and the fresh air outside. A rush of warmth hit him, rising from the pavement.

Although it was only early March, the temperature was already in the low eighties today. The bright sunlight highlighted Ellie’s pale face. She felt so fragile as he carried her.

Ben cursed himself for not having handled things better. But his track record in that department lately was pretty abysmal. He hadn’t been doing much right lately. He wasn’t here on any official business of the Marine Corps, he was here to honor his buddy’s dying wishes.

Heading for his Bronco, Ben shifted her in his arms as he opened the passenger door and gently set her on the seat before reaching for the bottle of water he had nearby. Keeping one arm around her, he dabbed some water on a paper towel he ripped from a roll behind the driver’s seat. Before placing the dampened cloth on her forehead, he felt her neck to check her pulse. Her skin was so soft beneath his fingertips.

“Get your hands off me!” She shoved him away with surprising strength and he narrowly avoided hitting the back of his head on the dashboard.

“Take it easy,” he said in a soothing voice, holding his hands up as the guy had in the bar earlier. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

She knew better. He’d already hurt her just by being here. And he’d angered her by showing up at her place of employment. She felt like an idiot for passing out the way she had, even if it had only been for a moment. She glared at him. She’d displayed weakness, something she hated, and it was all his fault. Reason alone to want him gone. “Since when do the Marines send someone out of uniform to do anything official? I’m not buying that story for one minute. So you’d better start talking, Captain, and you’d better start talking fast or I’ll have Earl take care of you.” Her words reflected her fury. “What kind of idiot walks into a bar and tells a woman who’s recently lost her brother what you told me?”

“Let’s start over, shall we? My name is Ben Kozlowski. I knew your brother. He was a close buddy of mine.”

“How close? Were you there when he died?”

Ben nodded.

“Then why didn’t you do something to save him?”

His gut clenched. Her unsteady question wasn’t one he hadn’t asked himself a thousand times ever since that awful moment. He’d give anything to have changed the way things had happened.

“I’m sorry.”

“Sorry won’t bring him back.”

“I realize that.”

Her gaze turned suspicious. “You weren’t the one who shot him, were you?”

“No, I wasn’t the one who shot him.” But he might as well have been. Not that he could tell her that. He wasn’t here to try and clear his conscience. He was here to make good on a promise. A vow.

So Ben slammed the hatch on his own turbulent emotions, and concentrated on Ellie. She was clearly displeased with him and he couldn’t blame her. He hadn’t handled things very well so far.

She was still pale, but she was no weak victim. There was nothing submissive about the tilt of her chin.

He was watching her again. She felt his gaze on her. She met it head-on. She wasn’t going to back away. “Johnny wrote me about you.” She fiercely tried to keep her voice steady. She’d already made a big enough fool of herself by fainting like that. And then by spurning his apology, asking him if he’d shot her brother. She was a mess. Not like her. She had to get her act together. She hadn’t had time to eat that day. Low blood sugar, that’s why she’d passed out. She gathered her thoughts. “You weren’t at his funeral, though.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t make it. I was still overseas.”

“Is that why you tracked me down? To offer your condolences?”

“I wanted to check up on you.”

“I appreciate the thought,” she said stiffly, clearly indicating that she didn’t really appreciate it at all. “But there’s no need.”

“I think there’s every need. You don’t belong in a place like this.” He jerked his head toward the bar.

“I can take care of myself.”

“It didn’t look that way to me.”