Chapter One
Ben Kozlowski was a Marine with money. But it hadn’t made him a happy man. The inheritance from his wealthy oilman grandfather had made him feel somewhat guilty when he’d first heard about it. After all, he’d done nothing to deserve it.
But that guilt was nothing compared to the guilt that had driven him into this honky-tonk just off the North Carolina Interstate, in a town called Pine Hills. He wasn’t there to drown his sorrows in the bottom of a bottle of whiskey, tempting as that might sound. No, he was here looking for a woman.
And not just any woman. He was here to find Ellie Jensen.
A neighbor at her apartment building said she was at work and had given him the name of this place.
Ben had been in plenty of bars during the course of his adult life, from cantinas in South America to exotic dives in Asia. Each had their own unique smell blended with the customary tobacco smoke. This particular place seemed to specialize in the scent of burnt onions. A big chalkboard on the wall proclaimed that Al’s Place made burgers the way you wanted them—hot and juicy. And apparently dripping with onions.
The place was crowded, with country music blaring from a jukebox in the corner. Guys wearing jeans and T-shirts pressed their beer bellies against the bar, barely able to fit onto the stools provided. They sported a variety of baseball caps advertising various brands of their favorite malt liquor beverage.
The rest of the room had booths around the perimeter and tables placed wherever they’d fit, not leaving much room for the servers to get by.
Which seemed to suit the clientele just fine.
Ben could understand the appeal. The females—and all the servers were female—were dressed in short, tight denim skirts and skimpy tank tops. The closer the servers got, the easier it was for the customers to cop a feel.
Ben tugged out the well-worn photo and fingered the sweet face displayed there. John Riley had been one of Ben’s closest friends and Ellie was John’s sister, his only family.
Take care of my sister. Promise me you’ll take care of my sister. Ben had held John in his arms as he lay mortally wounded by friendly fire and he’d sworn he’d take care of his friend’s sister.
So here he was.
And there she was. He spotted her across the smoke-filled room. She was struggling to balance a tray filled with heavy beer mugs while avoiding the unwanted advances of a customer.
Ben was at her side a second later. “Let the lady go.”
His tone of voice, that of a Marine who meant business, got the customer’s attention despite the fact that he’d had a few too many brews. But it didn’t make him obey the order. “Who’re you?” the guy slurred.
“I’m the man who’s going to make you sorry you were born if you don’t let her go right now.”
This time the guy not only paid attention, he obeyed. Holding up his hands in the international signal of surrender, he said, “Hey bud, I didn’t mean nothing by it.”
Ben ignored the man and instead focused his attention on Ellie. She’d hurried on to another table, depositing the beers as quickly as she could before returning to the bar for another order.
She had incredibly long legs and a graceful way of moving. Her dark hair was pinned up as if she’d tried to get it out of her way, but one strand had come undone, drawing his attention to her nape. Her skin was creamy pale, not tanned. The line of her back was as rigidly upright as that of any private in the Marine Corps standing at attention.
She clearly didn’t belong in a place like this. So what was she doing working here?
Ellie was aware of the man staring at her. She’d noticed him the moment he’d walked in. He was that kind of guy. The kind you noticed. He had dark hair and was alarmingly handsome with light hazel eyes that caught her attention even from across the smoky room.
She also was aware that, given his short haircut, he was probably military. Which would explain his lean but muscular build and the tense and dangerous aura he projected. Camp Lejeune, one of the major Marine training bases, was almost an hour away. Not right in their backyard, but close enough to get an occasional visitor.
Ellie was grateful that the stranger rescued her from the huge bear of a drunk who’d been pawing her. But that didn’t mean that she was looking to start anything with this newcomer. Gratitude only went so far, and she’d learned early on that it didn’t pay to count on anyone but yourself.
She’d forgotten that lesson when she’d fallen in love with her ex-husband, Perry Jensen. She’d let him sweep her off her feet with his sweet-talking, charming ways. No good had come of it, except for her daughter, Amy. Amy was the reason for Ellie to get up in the morning.
That was especially true now that Ellie’s brother, Johnny, was dead. She still couldn’t believe that he was gone. She liked to think that he was still serving the Marines someplace overseas. But the arrival of the representative of the Marine Corps had been all too real when he’d told her the news of Johnny’s death, and conveyed the appreciation of a nation and the regret of the entire Corps.
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