The Marine

But now he had to know exactly what had happened that night, had to arm himself against the barrage of questions Lynn Hayes was sure to unleash on him.

He had to know everything, to stay one step ahead of her in her quest for the truth.

And deep down, he still held out hope that Pete would come to his senses and act honorably. He’d done it before—only at Rick’s urging—but maybe he’d do it again. A stupid thing to hope for, because Rick doubted he’d be able to allow Pete to even try. They’d dug themselves in too far already, with Rick’s initially taking responsibility.

The sharp smell of cooking meat along with the glare of sun on the six-by-six slab of concrete that constituted Pete’s patio hit Rick when he stepped through the slider, as it had countless times before. Only this time he wasn’t making a social call.

Pete was already back to manning the charcoal-briquette grill, spatula in hand. “Shut the screen door behind ya. Marissa hates flies.” He pressed the spatula against one of two thick hamburger patties. “Better yet, close the slider. The heat’s been getting to her. Those of us at the bottom of the hill don’t have the luxury of working AC.” Fat and juices sizzled and spat.

The ancient temptation to feel guilty about being among the haves when Pete had always been among the have-nots stirred in Rick’s belly, but he refused to let Pete toss him on the barbie along with the burgers. Nevertheless, the pounding that had started in his head after Lynn’s visit intensified to bomb blasts as he reached to close the sliding-glass door.

With heartfelt sincerity he asked, “How is Marissa?”

“As big as a house.”

A feminine voice called from inside the apartment, “I heard that!”

The curtain on the other side of the sliding door Rick had been closing was moved out of the way by a very attractive, very pregnant blonde.

Rick automatically searched her warm brown eyes for any sign of accusation. “Hey, Marissa.”

“Rick!” She greeted him with a wide smile softened by contentment. “Long time no see!” She pushed the patio door wide enough to hug him as best she could.

The intensity of his headache lessened as he hugged her back. When she pulled away, he glanced at the eight months’ worth of baby under her pink maternity tank top, and managed a crooked grin when he returned his gaze to hers. “I’ll say. And you’re growing more beautiful by the inch.”

She’d been pretty, petite and trusting when Pete had first met her on the beach last summer. From what Rick could tell, only the petite part had changed, by at least forty pounds, all of it sticking out in front of her. The thought of destroying her trust made his stomach turn.

“Boy, Rick, that smile of yours is enough to flip a heart or two on a normal basis, but combined with these pregnancy hormones…” She sucked air through her teeth. “It’s a good thing I’m a happily married woman.”

God, he hoped so. He slid Pete a look.

Pete’s attention was on the burgers.

Marissa said, “Jeez, we haven’t seen you since the wedding. Can you stay for an early dinner? We’ve been eating our bigger meal around now so I have plenty of time to digest before I try to lie down. It’ll just take me a second to make another patty—”

Rick held up a hand. “No, I can’t. Sorry, Marissa. But thanks anyway.”

She pouted, but she didn’t seem all that disappointed. “I understand. Now that you’re officially a major, you’re probably as busy as all get out.” She smiled brightly again. “Hey, congrats on that, by the way.” She cuffed him lightly on the shoulder.