The Gunny & The Jazz Singer (Birchwood Falls #1) by Jane Leopold Quinn Read Free Book Online Page A

with knowing. She
was reading his expression. And not hating it. Okay. He meandered toward her. "Hey, heading home?" They
were only a block from their respective houses. She licked her lips, the sight
of that tongue torturing him all the more.
    "Yes. Are you?"
    He fell into step next to her but
couldn't get a glimpse of her face because of the floppy hat. Crap. "What have you been doing
today?"
    "I work part-time at Clarke's.
It's a resale shop just down there." She pointed to the cinderblock
building just past the church's parking lot. "What did you do today?"
    "I hunted up some old friends."
    "How long is your leave?"
    "Six weeks."
    "Are you deployed overseas?"
She lifted her head to give him a serious gaze.
    God. He wanted more than anything to kiss those rosy lips. "Yep."
    "How often do you get leave?"
    "Not often. This is my first
long-term leave in a few years and my first trip back to B Falls."
    "I bet it's a strange
adjustment. All I know is what I see on the news though."
    "Yeah, it's different, that's
for sure." They turned the corner onto their street. He glanced again at
her upturned face. He should be happy that a beautiful woman seemed sensitive
to his job. He wasn't used to talking about it with anyone.
    "Are you happy to be home or
does the contrast between here and there make it too hard?"
    Sensitive
and perceptive. "Interesting question, Phoebe. No one's ever asked
that."
    "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to
pry."
    He lost sight of her face again
when she turned and hid behind the hat brim. "It's not that. Most
civilians just don't know what to say to us."
    "I guess we're glad you're
home safe and don't want to remind you that you have to go back."
    "Exactly!" They'd reached
her house, but she seemed to dawdle as if not wanting to go inside. He sure
didn't want to leave her.
    "What's your rank?" She
tipped her lips up in a smile.
    "Gunny. Gunnery Sergeant, to
be precise."
    She saluted him, her expression
serious but her eyes sparkling in amusement. "Yes sir."
    "You don't have to salute me,
and don't call me sir," he said in his sternest voice. "I'm not an
officer."
    "Got it!" She again
lifted her hand to her brow, then laughed. "Oops."
    Her adorable giggle went right to
his nuts, and he choked out, "That's okay. You'll learn."
    "So what do gunnys do?"
    The last thing he should do was
palm his aching cock in front of her. Control
yourself, Marine. He cleared his throat. "Simply put, we're experts in
anything to do with guns and ammunition, hence the gunnery part." He
couldn't say he didn't like her rapt attention, but he didn't want to talk
about war, not with the beauteous Phoebe. He was home with a sexy woman, and he
wanted more of her. "But I want to forget about all that for a while.
Okay?"
    She nodded, the hat brim bobbing
with her movements.
    He followed her as she headed up
the front walk of her house. They stepped up on her porch, she paused at the
mailbox, pulled out a sheaf of envelopes, and leafed through them. Scratching
the back of his neck, he asked, "Would you like to go out to dinner? We
can make it quick if you're singing tonight."
    She lifted her head. "I'm
sorry. I can't."
    That wasn't what the look on her
face was saying. She wanted to but something held her back. He held up his
hands in a surrender pose. "It's just dinner. No strings."
    She tapped the edges of the
envelopes against her palm and gave him a regretful look. "I already have
plans tonight."
    Crap.
Butch. He'd acted all possessive last night. On the other hand, she'd
kissed him pretty hungrily.
    He heard a growl come from his
throat. Between his suspicions of Wilcox Sr. and a little bit of his own
possessiveness, unreasonable though it was, he didn't consider Butch good
enough for her. Turning the growl into a cough, he asked, "Rain check?"
    "Sure. I'd like that." She gave him an expectant
smile and didn't hurry inside. Her face tilted up, her leafy-green eyes
sparkling, eyes the color that reminded him of the countryside and