Under his command, p.2
Under His Command, page 2
part #2 of Decadence L.A. Series
“You know,” she said curtly, “I appreciate your help back there, but I’m not drunk. Furthermore, I’m not a kid, but an adult who doesn’t need a lesson from a stranger who for all I know is a serial killer.” She jerked on her arm. “Let me go.”
He released her, immediately, and took a half step back. When he did, Roscoe surprised her by sitting on her feet and leaning against her legs, his tail thumping on the wet, compacted sand.
The moon made an appearance just then, and she saw him for the first time. Not clearly, but she could make out a firm, clean-shaven jaw, a mouth turned down in a frown—like she’d guessed—and eyes framed by a thick fan of long, dark lashes, though she couldn’t make out their color. His hair, slightly long on top but cropped close on the sides, was a light shade, either a dark blond or sandy brown. He wore an Under-Armor shirt which fit him like a second skin, accentuating a muscular upper body and incredibly broad shoulders. Even in the dark, she could tell he was handsome, and not that much older than she was, mid-thirties, at most.
He sighed suddenly and dragged a hand across his jaw. Cassie heard the rasp of a beard and imagined he sported a five o’clock scruff, something she always found sexy.
“You’re right,” he admitted, surprising her. “I jumped to the conclusion you were a college kid who had too much of a good thing and ended up floundering around in the waves.” He gestured behind him to where the public beach ended and the long row of private properties stretched down the coast. “I live on the island, and we get a lot of that. Especially in late August, as a last hurrah as summer ends and before classes start up again.” He paused a moment, looking out over the water. “Just last month we had a girl go missing while out for a swim past sunset. There was a rip current. A SEAL team from the naval base had to be called in to help recover the body.”
“Oh my God! How awful.”
“Yeah, so it’s fresh on my mind.” He turned back to her. “My advice… You shouldn’t be wandering the beach alone, especially after drinking even one beer, and never where the waves can take you by surprise.”
She appreciated his owning up to his incorrect assumption and was about to tell him so when she saw his eyes dip down her front. When they lingered there, her gaze followed. At the sight of the t-shirt plastered to her body, her nipples hard and standing out through the sheerness of her bra, she let out a little shriek of alarm.
She pulled the fabric away from her wet skin, but it was a wasted effort. As soon as she let go, the snug fitting shirt snapped back in place. She repeated the move with the same ineffective result. Left with no other option to preserve her dignity, Cassie crossed her arms over her chest.
Covered, but utterly mortified, she peeked up at him. When he didn’t comment, she was grateful for it, although she thought she saw his lips twitch the tiniest bit.
He didn’t give her time to come up with a response before he suggested more politely, “Allow me to see you back to your car. If you have a phone on you, it’s ruined after that soaking. I’ll use mine to call the cab and wait with you until it arrives. Miss…”
“My name is Cassie,” she replied. “And I left my phone in the car. I can call a cab from there, so you don’t have to stay.”
“That seals it for me, I’m afraid. You’re by yourself after dark, without a way to call for help, slightly tipsy, and a lot bedraggled, so yes, Cassie, I do have to stay. I’m Flynn, a stranger, but good guy, and I swear,” he laid his hand on his chest, “I’m not a serial killer.”
His lips kicked up in a smile which she couldn’t keep from returning.
When he wasn’t judging, he could be charming. And he had an awesome name that suited him. She also liked his firm, no-nonsense attitude, although she didn’t let on. At another time and place, she’d have flirted with him, especially, if he had a dominant bent. From their encounter, she suspected Flynn did—if he didn’t, what a waste.
She didn’t argue with his plan any further, only nodded, now that the misunderstanding was behind them. When a gust of wind blew hard, whipping her long ponytail and the loose tendrils of hair around her face into her eyes, she brushed it back, leaving one arm crossed over her chest. Her nipples tightened painfully, poking hard against her forearm, and it wasn’t only from being chilled.
Though she wanted to say something, to test the waters—bad pun not intended—she didn’t. Her Dom-dar was off these days. The spanking comment, although out of line wasn’t completely off base considering his assumption she was a reckless, irresponsible college kid. And she didn’t dare risk embarrassing herself further if she was wrong.
“You were running,” she observed softly, hoping he wouldn’t notice the breathless quality in her voice.
“Yes, but I won’t miss a few miles this evening. Roscoe, on the other hand, will be your friend for life if you save him from exercise. He might look like a dog, but trust me, he’s really a fur-wearing, couch potato. Though, as a gentleman, he would insist on escorting you and would ignore me to follow you up, if I didn’t. His calling is to see to all damsels in distress, especially if it means getting out of running. Isn’t that right, boy?”
On cue, the dog barked, coming to his feet, his tail whipping back and forth, so happy to be included, he looked like he might wiggle out of his fur.
Cassie laughed. Flynn joined her, the low, rumble charming her further. And Roscoe, not to be outdone by his master, tilted his head to the side, tongue hanging out, and gave her a pleading look with his beautiful dark puppy-dog eyes.
“How could I say no to such gallantry? Lead on, sirs.” She could have been mistaken, but she thought she saw a spark of interest in her rescuer’s eyes, but again, he didn’t comment. He did crook his arm and offered it to her.
When they started walking again, Flynn adjusted his stride, so his long legs matched her pace, which was nice.
“I know at first look it may not seem like it, but I’m not a partier.”
He didn’t respond to that either.
“I’m new in town. I came here for a walk, and to watch the sun go down. When they invited me to join them, I did, in celebration.”
“Of what?”
“I start a new job tomorrow.”
“Congratulations.”
“Thanks. I was feeling sorry for myself, being the new girl in town and not knowing a soul.”
“Now you know two souls, me, and Mr. Couch Potato.”
She angled her head up to him. Innate hotness aside, she was starting to like him, a lot.
Roscoe barked again, clearly insulted, and with his tail in the air, picked up speed and moved ahead of them.
“Oh, you’ve hurt his feelings.”
“Impossible. He’s a lab; happy all the time, which makes for a crap watchdog, let me tell you. Everyone is his friend—the mailman, joggers, serial killers.”
She laughed at his gentle jab. “He’s sweet. As are you for coming to my rescue.”
“I’m glad I came along when I did, and that I didn’t have to put my CPR skills to the test.” She caught a flash of his white teeth in the dark. “You’re little, and with the waves rolling in, knocking you around, you looked like a flounder washing up on shore.”
His husky laughter wrapped around her, sparking a tingle of excitement. Too enamored to take offense at being compared to a flat, ugly fish, and a dead one at that, she joined in.
They chatted amicably all the way to the lot where she’d parked. Cassie retrieved her phone from her purse in the trunk where she’d left it for safekeeping, good thing too or it would have been waterlogged for sure. She called a taxi, and as promised, Flynn kept her company while she waited, without a lull in the conversation until it arrived. He opened the back door for her, but before she slid in, took her phone from her fingers. She didn’t protest although she leaned in, watching as his thumbs moved over the screen adding a number to her contacts.
“Next time you’re lonely or need to celebrate, you call Roscoe and me. We’ll keep you safe and out of trouble.” He said this with a smile in his eyes that thanks to the street lights she now knew were a beautiful gray with hints of dark blue. Though he didn’t say a word, one dark blond brow quirked in amusement as he handed back her phone. She accepted it, suppressing a groan upon seeing his very masculine hand holding her girlie-pink glitter case. No wonder everyone thought she was a kid.
Still, she tamped down her embarrassment and said sincerely, “It was nice meeting you, Flynn.” His dog whimpered ensuring he wouldn’t be left out. She bent and gave him an ear scratch. “And you too, Roscoe.” Her gaze shifted back to his handsome owner, wondering if this would be the last time she saw him. “Thanks again.”
“Anytime, Cassie.” He stepped back, and she had no choice but to slide into the back seat of the waiting cab.
As it pulled away, she gave him a little wave, knowing she’d never have the nerve to call him. Because the way he left it, with her having his number, not the other way around, she’d have to be the one to make the next move—something out of character for her.
Chapter 2
The radio and A/C went silent when Cassie twisted the key on her eighteen-year-old, sapphire blue, Mazda Mx-5. Sadly, the engine did not, continuing to knock and ping for several more seconds after it was off, as it had for weeks.
Her roadster convertible was old, but she kept the body and interior in pristine condition, and since the top still worked like a charm and came down with the simple push of a button, it made driving along the coastline in Southern California extra fun. Besides being awesome, it had sentimental value for her considering it was the first purchase she’d made by herself after college. No co-signer, only her name on the dotted line just like a grown up.
She loved it on sight. Her dad, not so much. Jacob Hardwick had taken one look at the tiny two-seater and about had a stroke. A perennial purveyor of doom and gloom when it came to his daughter and what he called her flagrant disregard for her safety, he predicted her end culminating in a late-night call from a hospital ER when she wrapped the impractical, insubstantial, pathetic excuse for a vehicle around a tree.
Those were his words verbatim. She’d heard them often enough they’d become etched into her brain.
His worry was justified, however, considering she’d had a few automotive mishaps back in high school. That, along with her other teenage antics, caused 99.9 percent of the gray hair atop his fifty-three-year-old head. At least that’s what he told her mother every time the subject came up. Nonetheless, with the deed already done, and the ink dry on her contract, he’d taken her new, used car to his trusted mechanic for a thorough inspection. On the way, he’d given her, his beloved only daughter, another lecture—for the hundredth time by her count—on defensive driving.
Cassie would be getting an earful right now on the importance of routine maintenance if he knew she’d let it go two months past time for an oil change and tune-up. It couldn’t be helped, however. Her life had been crazy since her new job required a cross-country move in a matter of weeks. She marked finding a reputable auto shop as priority one on her mental to-do list. For now, she relegated the annoying rattle to the back of her mind while staring through the windshield at the Naval Base Command building in front of her.
Nervous butterflies danced in her stomach, though they shouldn’t. She’d conquered bigger challenges than this. Five years earlier, for instance, when at twenty-six, and never once away from the west coast, she traveled solo to three job interviews in three eastern cities. Then, in the span of a month, survived her first major move, apartment hunting, and beginning a new life in a new town all alone.
Her parents had been beside themselves with worry to have their only child three thousand miles away. But in the glutted computer market she had to go where there was work, especially as a woman in a male-dominated field. Being young and inexperienced certainly hadn’t helped her odds in beating out the hundreds of men applying for the same jobs she did. And, being a petite, blue-eyed blonde with an uncanny resemblance to perky Elle Woods from those Legally Blonde movies, only made matters worse.
Cassie knew the job market was tough, and she might have to start at an entry-level position, gain experience, and work her way up in a company to get where she wanted to be. But she hadn’t expected the brick walls, glass ceilings, and the insincere “we’ll call you’s” when she managed to get an interview, which wasn’t often, all because she lacked one particular job requirement—a penis.
Thirteen months after completion of her graduate degree in computer science from Stanford, which by itself should have opened doors, but didn’t, when an offer came from Foster Dynamics in Boston, she felt she had no choice except to pack up and move.
Now, here she was, five years later, doing it all over again. Almost.
Yes, she was starting over in a new city, but it wasn’t exactly a new job. She’d be working for the same company, the same supervisor, the same program they’d been developing for over a year. Except her new assignment was as a subcontractor for the military on a naval base.
It might as well have been a new planet.
Sure, her company had Department of Defense contracts, but she’d never worked outside the computer lab at their main headquarters. Cassie knew little about the military and even less about the Navy. No one in her family had ever served. The closest she got was Julie, her best friend, and roommate from college.
Jules, as everyone close to her called her, was married to a Navy SEAL. But she’d only seen her a handful of times in the past few years on her infrequent trips home from Boston, to visit her parents. And with Colt overseas, often, she’d seen him even less. But he’d recently been stationed here on Coronado as a SEAL Qualification Training (SQT) instructor.
Having friends living nearby had influenced her decision to move to San Diego. Although, as her bad luck would have it, they’d been called out of town on a family emergency right before she arrived.
Her phone rang at the same time her alarm sounded, interrupting her meandering thoughts. Grabbing it off the seat next to her, she turned off the annoying preset signal and noted the caller. Next, she checked the clock. 8:40.
Plenty of time for a mini-pep talk. Cassie hit the green button, her lips turning up in her first smile of the day.
“Do you have ESP? I was just thinking about you.”
“Did you make it, okay?” Jules asked. “Any trouble on I-94 coming in? It can get so backed up this time of day. Or on I-5? The bridge traffic usually isn’t bad, but you never know. Maybe we should have had you take the ferry. I can’t believe you took an apartment in Emerald Hills. You could have stayed at our place, and when we got home, we would have helped you find something affordable on the island, closer to us.”
“Slow down. I made it in plenty of time. As we speak, I’m sitting in my car in the parking lot of Base Command Headquarters trying to calm a bad case of the butterflies.”
“Deep breaths and focus,” was her friend’s sage advice.
“After that mile a minute greeting, you’re telling me to breathe?”
“You’re right! Sorry. I just hate we couldn’t be there for you.”
“It’s not your fault Colt’s mom took a fall, just bad timing.”
One year ahead in college, Jules had always taken the big sister role. And when she married Colton Jameson, he’d stepped right in as the protective big brother. Something Cassie didn’t mind, having neither growing up. When she’d moved east, she’d missed them, a lot.
“You’ve got this, Cassie. You’re going to knock all those badass SEALs on their butts with your mad computer skills.”
“It’s nice you have such confidence in me. I wish I did.”
“Picture them in their underwear; I hear that works.”
As she made the suggestion, two men in camouflage pants and tight white tees walked in front of her car. Both were solid walls of ripped muscle and completely drool-worthy. She’d seen others like them while driving in. In fact, the entire island was swarming with Navy men equally as impressive.
“Uh, Jules. You’ve been to the base. Picturing men who look like Colt in their skivvies is only going to make the butterflies worse.”
She laughed while agreeing, “This is true.”
“How’s Marie doing? Is the physical therapy helping? When do you think you’ll be able to get back?”
“Friday. It was only some bruising and soreness; no fractures thank goodness. We’ve got her settled in her new apartment, and her house is packed up. Colt hired a realtor to handle the sale, but he’ll have to come back for the closing since she gave him her power of attorney. Otherwise, I think we’ve got it covered for now.”
“You couldn’t convince her to move to San Diego?”
“And give up her bridge game with the girls every Wednesday, and singing in the choir on Sundays? The only way Colt talked her into moving out of the old home place is because two members of her bridge club live in the complex already. The man who drives her to choir practice lives there too. I think she’s sweet on him. Colt finds him annoying, just like a protective only son, but he’s a nice, older gentleman, and really seems to care about her, so he’s trying not to snap him in two like a twig.”
The visual made Cassie wince. Colt could do it with the flick of his wrist, although he’d never do it to a kind-hearted senior. She could only imagine his frustration and worry with his aging mother living hundreds of miles away from him. For her part, Marie Jameson was a hoot. Mentally sharp and active at seventy-eight, she had no trouble picturing the lively woman sparking—what she called it—with a sweetheart.
“I’m glad she’s doing well. Send her my love, will you?”
“Yes, and I’m supposed to say thank for the flowers you sent.”
“I’m sorry I couldn’t do more. How did she fall, exactly?”
“Salsa dancing.”
“What!” Cassie squealed, shocked, but not really. That was just like Marie.
“I know. Colt about flipped out. But you can’t get that woman to slow down. She said she spun right instead of twirling left, and she and Henry, that’s her man friend, they’re so cute you wouldn’t believe it, Cass. But they both went down in a tangle of legs and support hose.”
