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Cinderella's Sweet-Talking Marine. Cathie LinzЧитать онлайн книгу.

Cinderella's Sweet-Talking Marine - Cathie  Linz


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near the front door.

      “Allow me.” He took the denim jacket from her hands and held it for her to slide her arms into.

      She shot him a startled glance over her shoulder.

      “Mommy, why do you need help getting dressed? I thought you knew how.”

      “I do know how. Ben is just being polite.” She quickly reached back but had trouble finding the arm-holes. Her fingers bumped against the side of his leg. “Sorry about that.” Now he’d think she was an idiot who couldn’t even get a jacket on properly.

      “No problem.” He moved closer to smoothly guide her into the jacket. His hands rested on her shoulders for a moment. She felt his fingers brush against her bare skin as he lifted her braid from beneath the denim. Awareness streaked through her entire body starting at the contact point at her nape, racing down her spine and curling her toes. “There. How’s that?”

      How was it? Entirely too provocative. She was supposed to be keeping her objectivity here. Not melting.

      Ellie didn’t relax until they were seated at a table in the steak house. Amy was gazing at the children’s menu as if she were able to read every word. She’d brought two dolls with her and she had them gazing at the menu with equal intentness.

      “Do you want the chicken fingers?” Ellie asked Amy. Luckily her daughter didn’t suffer from serious food allergies the way a lot of children with asthma did.

      “I want octypuss,” Amy proudly declared.

      Ellie blinked. “What?” There were times when her child said things that came completely from another planet and this was one of them.

      “Octypuss.”

      “They don’t serve octopus here.”

      “Frenchie told me she ate some in Paris.”

      “When you’re as old as Frenchie then you can have octopus.”

      Amy’s face scrunched up. “I’ll be two hundred by then.”

      Ellie tried not to laugh. “No, you won’t. Now do you want chicken fingers or a hot dog?” Maybe a steak house wasn’t that different from a fast-food place, from a kid’s point of view.

      “Chicken fingers. But no beans. No beans, Mommy. I don’t like broccoli either. Remember?”

      “Yes, I remember.”

      After they’d placed their orders, Amy eagerly leaned forward toward Ben. “Do you want to play with my Barbie? I’ve got two.” She offered him one.

      Ben didn’t have the heart to tell the kid no.

      “My Barbie works at the hops-ital,” Amy declared. “Where does your Barbie work?”

      “She’s a Marine.”

      “What does she wear?”

      “A uniform.”

      “Is she going to end up in heaven like my Uncle Johnny?”

      His gut clenched. “Not until she’s old and gray.”

      “Can she work at the hops-ital with my Barbie?”

      “Sure.”

      “Okay, then. You go first.” When he looked at a total loss, the little girl added, “Your Barbie talks to my Barbie.”

      “Hello.”

      Amy frowned. “You have to make her sound more like a girl.”

      “Hello.” His voice rose to a higher pitch.

      “What’s your name?”

      “Barbie.”

      “My name is Barbie, too. Let’s have lunch.” Amy sat her Barbie down at the table. “Do you have a pancake maker?”

      “No.”

      “There’s no mess. No mess at all. Amazing.”

      Ellie felt compelled to explain. “She saw an infomercial on the TV early one morning last week and it’s stuck in her mind like glue.”

      “The pancakes don’t taste like glue,” Amy said. “And there’s no mess. We don’t like mess. Mess can make my asthma bad. Does your Barbie have asthma?”

      “I don’t know.”

      “You should see a doctor. Some doctors can be nice.” Amy carefully rearranged her doll’s sundress. “My Barbie is a doctor. That’s why she works at the hops-ital. Okay, now let’s go for a drive. My Barbie drives, yours just rides along.” She kept up a constant monologue, meaning that Ben only had to say an occasional high-pitched “Yes,” or “No.”

      “Captain Kozlowski?”

      Ben looked up to find a fellow Marine and his wife staring at him as if he’d grown two heads. Ben dropped the Barbie like a hot potato and instantly rose to his feet.

      “I didn’t expect to see you here, sir,” Gunnery Sergeant Handley said.

      To which Ben replied, “I’m here with friends.”

      “I won’t keep you then. Nice seeing you, sir.”

      Ben nodded briskly and waited until the Marine and his wife were some distance away and out of his sight line before sitting down again.

      “You should have seen the expression on your face.” Ellie shook her head. “It really was priceless.”

      “I’m so glad I could provide the comedic entertainment for our meal this evening,” Ben drawled.

      “What’s com-dick entertainment?” Amy demanded.

      “Comedic means funny,” Ellie replied.

      “I can be funny. I can make funny faces. Want to see?” She rolled her eyes and scrunched up her nose.

      “Here’s your dinner.” Ellie moved the Barbies off the table and Amy put them on her lap.

      The meal went well and Ellie ate every speck of her huge steak, baked potato and fresh grilled vegetables. Amy ate most of her meal and didn’t insist on feeding her Barbies.

      “What about some dessert?” their peppy waitress inquired as she cleared their table of the empty plates. “Our specialty is Decadent Chocolate Delight.”

      “Sounds good,” Ben said.

      When the waitress brought the huge layered dessert, Amy’s eyes almost bugged out. “Can I have the cherry on top?”

      “Affirmative,” Ben said.

      Amy frowned. “What’s that mean?”

      “It means yes.”

      “What do you say?” Ellie prompted her as Ben handed Amy the juicy red cherry.

      “Thank you, Ben.” Amy gave him an ear-to-ear smile before leaning her head against his arm. “I like you.”

      His heart gave a funny thump and Ben knew he was a goner. He’d always been a sucker for those in need. He’d been that way since he was a kid and had seen a frightened kitten in the grocery store parking lot. A bunch of bigger kids had been trying to poke sticks at it as it frantically crouched under the Dumpster. Ben had fought them off and had rescued the kitten, bringing it home under his coat. He could still remember the way the little thing had stopped trembling and rested its head against his chest.

      Oh, yeah, he’d always had a thing for rescuing the underdog…or kitten. For helping the smaller or weaker inhabitants on this planet.

      Seeing Amy gazing at him with such appreciation at such a little thing as giving her a cherry brought out all his protective instincts. One dinner and already the kid had him in the palm of her hand.

      Ellie noted the strange expression on Ben’s face and wondered


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