Pregnant with the Soldier's Son. Amy Ruttan

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СКАЧАТЬ behind her. The scent of cologne and something spicy she couldn’t quite put her finger on overcame her senses.

      “Is this seat taken?”

      Ingrid looked up and the gorgeous, broody soldier from across the bar was standing right beside her.

       Don’t stammer!

      “No, go ahead.” Ingrid hoped there was no hitch in her voice to let him know she was a bit nervous. In fact, the whole room began to spin. She wasn’t sure if it was the vodka or him.

      She hoped it was him.

      He sat down next to her. “Can I order you another one?”

      “Sure, I’d like that.” She didn’t have to work in the morning, but this was also the most she’d ever drunk in one sitting.

       Live a little.

      Oh, God. She’d never lived a little, and somewhere, deep down inside, the part of her that her father had raised was screaming at her to run, but it was faint compared to the rest of her, which wanted to take a chance and live a little.

       Damn.

      Good thing her father wasn’t here because he’d be reminding her how her mother had been a free spirit and that reckless behavior was the reason she’d left them.

       Don’t freak out and don’t think about that.

      “Barkeep, I’ll have another beer and the lady here will have a …”

      “Cosmo,” Ingrid blurted out.

      The bartender nodded and started to prepare their drinks.

      Ingrid began to fiddle with the damp paper napkin in front of her, totally at a loss for anything to say. The opposite sex wasn’t her forte. She always got so weird and awkward around them.

      As was evident by the fact she could barely look him straight in the eye, and she could feel a blush over her entire body, not just her cheeks.

      “I’m Clint. What’s your name?”

      “Philomena.” Ingrid’s stomach twisted for lying to him. It was obvious he would be shipping out soon and where could their relationship go? She had no time for relationships.

      She didn’t want a relationship.

      Her stomach knotted again, and she really hoped it was guilt over lying which was getting to her and not the alcohol. With the way her usual dealings with men went, she might begin ralphing on him at any moment.

      He cocked an eyebrow. “Philomena? That’s an interesting name.”

      “I know, but I like it.”

      He grinned. “I like it too. It suits you.”

      Ingrid bit her lip. Oh, buddy, you don’t know the half of it.

      “Are you here with your comrades?” she asked, nodding toward the pool tables.

      “Comrades? This isn’t Russia.”

      Ingrid relaxed a bit at his joke. “Friends, then.”

      “Something like that,” he said. “They dragged me out. Told me to relax a little before we ship out tomorrow night.”

      “Where to?”

      Clint grinned and thanked the bartender as he slid their drinks in front of them. “That’s classified.”

      “Really?”

      “Well, the exact location and purpose, yes. I’m headed overseas for a year.”

      “A year. Well, I wish you all the best.”

      He chuckled. “That’s it? Just ‘I wish you all the best.’”

      Ingrid blushed again; she could feel it right from the roots of her hair to the tips of her toes. “What else am I supposed to say to you?”

      “It’s not so much the saying as the action.”

      “Action?” Ingrid asked, confused.

      “How about a kiss?”

      Heat bloomed in her cheeks. “Pardon?”

      “You know, for good luck before deployment.”

      “That is the cheesiest pick-up line I’ve ever heard.” Ingrid laughed. “Seriously, that’s … bad.”

      “Oh, so men try to pick you up all the time.”

      “Well, I have been a victim of worse attempts.”

      “Go on. Tell me the worst pick-up line you’ve ever heard.”

      Ingrid’s gaze narrowed. “I’m not sure if I should tell you, you could use it as ammunition on some unsuspecting female.”

      “I cross my heart I won’t.” And as if to prove a point, he did just that. “Now, tell me.”

      “Just call me milk, I’ll do your body good!”

      He burst out laughing. “Okay, that’s terrible.”

      Ingrid shrugged. “See, I told you. I hear some of the worst pick-up lines.”

      Clint grinned. “Well, you can’t blame a guy for trying.”

      “Trying what?”

      He leaned in closer, his blue irises rimmed with the darkest shade of blue, making the color even more mesmerizing. “For trying to steal a kiss from a beautiful, sexy woman like you.”

      Her breath caught in her throat. “Oh.”

      “I’m sorry. I couldn’t resist.” There was a sparkle in his eye, one of devilment.

      “Hey, at least you were honest and you didn’t try to pick me up with that milk line.” Ingrid finished the rest of her drink. “To be honest, I thought about granting you that boon.” She could almost hear her rational side screaming, while the rest of her was shouting for joy.

       Now it was definitely the liquor talking.

      Maybe it wasn’t booze. Maybe it was all her inhibitions just letting go.

      “Really?” Clint asked. “I am intrigued.”

      Steeling up as much courage as she could muster, she reached forward, grabbed him by the scruff of his shirt and pulled him into a kiss. What she wasn’t expecting was the electricity. The heat and desire she was experiencing now. It set her reeling and her body began to melt into a warm pile of goo as the kiss deepened and turned into something raw and powerful. His tongue pushed past her lips and tangled with hers, and she heard him moan as his arms came around her body. He was so strong.

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