Wait Until Dark: a military romantic suspense (The Night Stalkers Book 3) by M. L. Buchman

Author:M. L. Buchman [Buchman, M. L.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Buchman Bookworks, Inc.
Published: 2021-12-27T18:30:00+00:00

Dave’s powerful hand clamped on John’s shoulder, but he addressed Connie.

“Only guy I know who orders my fine porterhouse done Chicago-rare and then orders a root beer with it. Knew who it was the second I saw the ticket.”

John tried to speak, but Dave ran right over him.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. You never know when you’re gonna have to fly. Blah, blah, blah. Heard it a thousand times.”

He reached out and shook her hand with a grip almost as powerful as John’s.

“She’s a keeper, John. Don’t be stupid enough to throw this one back in the pond. A real stunner with a serious grip. And doing yeoman service to my prime rib. Damn fine beef, isn’t it, ma’am? What are you doing hanging with this big lummox? Your car break down? You can stay with me while he gets out of his one and only suit and fixes it for you.”

Dave shook him again, almost knocking him sideways to the floor.

“Aren’t you gonna introduce me to your lady? Nah, you get all tongue-tied every time a good one is slow-witted enough to get caught in the honey trap of those gooey, big browns of yours. I’m John—He’s Dave. No, wait. Reverse that. Unless you’re John and he’s Dave. But then who does that make me?”

“That would make you a US Army sergeant,” Connie offered. It was easy to return the chef’s smile. Though she had to wonder why she introduced herself as a soldier and not by her own name as a person.

“I’d introduce you,” John clambered to his feet and wrapped Dave in a bear hug, “if you’d shut your damn face long enough to let a buddy get a word in edgewise.” Dave stood only an inch and a half shorter. They crushed each other around the ribs in a way that would break a lesser man in two and then slapped each other’s backs loud enough to startle the diners seated nearby.

A lot of history there. Connie felt the pinch. She didn’t have history with anyone.

John wrapped Dave in a headlock and turned him to face her. “Connie, this useless piece of trash is Dave. Dave, Connie. He was my center for two years of football, we made a hell of a pair.” Dave poked John in the ribs and pulled his head free. “Center. A fancy way of saying that he kept running his hands over my butt to warm ’em up and then fumbling the football anyway which yours truly had to save.”

He shoved John back into his chair.

“Now stop messing with the chef. I’ve got steaks cooking. And no, you can’t feel up my butt for old time’s sake. Nice to meet you, Connie. Hang tough one more day, then I’ll take you off his hands tomorrow night.”

“You gonna grill?” John brightened up more.

“Wouldn’t be The Night Before The Night Before Sub Fest if I didn’t have my smoker fired up.” And with a running stream of words and greetings at half the tables in the place, he moved back toward his kitchen.

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