Cinderella's Sweet-Talking Marine

“How many miles do you have on this thing?” Ben asked, as if suspicious it couldn’t go another mile without falling apart.

There were mornings when it refused to turn over that she wondered the same thing. “The odometer stopped working at 199,999 miles. It may not look pretty but it gets me from point A to point B.”

“Are you headed straight home?”

She nodded. She was too tired to argue with him anymore.

“What about dinner?”

“What about it?” she countered.

“Would you and your daughter join me for dinner tonight? My treat. I hear there’s a great steak house near here.”

Being strong only went so far. She was down to her last package of macaroni and cheese and one oversized generic-brand can of green beans, which was what they’d had for dinner last night.

Tomorrow was payday so she’d be able buy more food then. But tonight…

Steak? When was the last time she’d had steak?

What was the harm in going out with Ben just this once? Amy would get a good dinner. Surely it wouldn’t hurt.

What would hurt would be to believe that Ben would still be here a week from now, or two weeks. To believe his charming words, to fall for his sexy good looks. That would be a huge mistake. One the formerly weak Ellie might have made when she still believed in happily-ever-after.

But the new Ellie knew better. No matter how good his hands had felt on her, no matter how seductive the chemistry might be, the only thing she could count on was that Ellie had to take care of Ellie. And take care of her daughter.

That was the bottom line, that was where her focus was and would remain…no matter how attractive Captain Ben Kozlowski was.

Chapter Two

“So what do you say?” Ben’s voice was coaxing. “How about dinner? Will you and your daughter join me?”

Ellie was tempted, so tempted. She wavered. Macaroni and green beans again for dinner…or steak. Saying yes didn’t have to mean giving in. It didn’t have to mean that she was weak. It could mean that she was being strong enough to look at this situation realistically, objectively. Having one dinner with Ben was not going to change her, wasn’t going to make her a believer in happily-ever-afters.

“Come on. I could really use the company.”

He made it seem like he was the needy one. She wondered if that was a deliberate tactic on his part. Trying to make it seem as if she’d be doing him a favor by saying yes instead of making it seem like he was taking pity on a charity case.

Which would make Ben more empathetic than she’d expected. But then there had to be something okay about Ben if her brother had liked him. Johnny had been a pretty good judge of character most of the time. Like her, he didn’t trust easily. But he’d trusted Ben.

Thinking about Johnny hurt so much. But Ellie refused to show it. She’d played a weepy wimp enough for one day. It wasn’t a customary role for her. She’d had to be tough to survive the foster care system and not let it grind her up. Being tough included learning how to keep her emotions under wraps, how to hide her pain.

Ellie had few vulnerabilities. Her brother and her daughter. That was it.

And now her brother was gone. Which meant Ellie had to work even harder to do the right thing for Amy. Ellie’s stomach growled, reminding her that she had to take care of herself or she wouldn’t be any use to Amy. “Okay. I accept your invitation.”

Ben smiled. “Outstanding. I’ll follow you home and then we can leave from there.” Standing beside his big burly black Bronco, he stared at her means of transportation with distrust.

But Tiny the Toyota had always been there for her. She’d had the car since she was in college when she’d bought it used. Her husband had come and gone, but her trusty vehicle was still with her. Ready to take her wherever she needed to go, provided it wasn’t too far. Capable of holding groceries, of moving furniture, of playing loud music from the radio that still worked on at least three stations. Dependable, reliable…okay, sometimes a little temperamental.

Unfortunately this was one of those times Tiny decided to be difficult. Muttering under her breath, Ellie yanked on the hood release and hopped out of the vehicle to lift the hood and jiggle a wire.

“What are you doing?” Ben was at her side.

“Working magic.”

He could believe that. She’d already worked magic on him. She wasn’t anything like he’d pictured. He’d imagined a sweet young woman. Sure, she had a child, so he knew she wasn’t innocent. He just hadn’t expected her to have a will of steel. And a basic knowledge of the workings of a car. He’d never met a woman who popped the hood on her car and went to work on it herself.

“That should do it.” Ellie was startled when Ben lowered the hood for her as if she were a delicate flower. She wasn’t accustomed to being looked after. Her ex-husband had opened doors for her and pulled out chairs when he’d been courting her, but had stopped after they were married. It hadn’t happened overnight, but had been more of a gradual thing.

Ellie took a deep breath and kicked Perry out of her thoughts. She needed to stay focused on the here and now. Thankfully, Tiny behaved this time and obediently started up. There were no further exhibits of the car’s temperamental nature on the short drive home.

The two-story brick apartment building didn’t look like much from the outside, but it was across the street from a small park. It also had hardwood floors in the living room and two bedrooms, which made things easier with Amy’s asthma. And it had Frenchie Sanchez.

In her early sixties, Frenchie didn’t look like anyone’s idea of a grandmother. She wasn’t tall and willowy, but she moved as if she were. She was proud of the relatively few wrinkles on her face. She had short cropped hair which she frequently dyed when she got bored. Last month she’d been a platinum blonde, now she was a redhead. She had brown eyes, a loud laugh and a fondness for huge earrings. She wore flowing dresses and pants in colors like papaya and lime.

Frenchie attributed her colorful appearance to marrying a Cuban trumpet player in the early fifties and then moving with him to Europe. She had a Parisian woman’s flair for scarves and a dancer’s graceful confidence. She also had a heart of gold.

Ellie knew how extraordinarily lucky she was to have a neighbor like Frenchie to help out with Amy, to watch her while Ellie was at work. Frenchie resisted taking any money from Ellie, saying that Amy was wonderful company for her and prevented her from getting lonely. But Ellie had insisted, and had paid her what she could, which wasn’t anything near what the older woman was worth. But then Frenchie Sanchez was priceless.

She greeted Ellie with her customary wide smile. “How was work today, ma chère?”

“Mommy, Mommy, look what I drewed!” Amy waved a piece of paper at her. At five, she was small for her age. She had Ellie’s dark hair and brown eyes. Today she was wearing one of her favorite shorts sets, the T-shirt with a cat’s face complete with rhinestone eyes.

Gazing down at her, Ellie felt her heart expand with emotion. It didn’t seem like that long ago when she’d given birth and held a newborn Amy in her arms, marveling at her perfectly formed tiny fingers and nails, awed by the intensity of her love for her child.

Where had the time gone? Her baby had become a little girl. She knew it, but every so often it hit her again. Her daughter would only be small a short time, and Ellie hated missing a moment of the new discoveries to be had at this age.

“Let me see.” Ellie bent down to hug her before looking at the artwork. “That’s a beautiful drawing.”

“It’s a cat.”

“I can see that.” Well, she couldn’t really. It looked like a circle with eyeballs to Ellie. But because her little girl drew it, it was beautiful.

“Who’s he?” Amy pointed at Ben.

Ellie had been so distracted that she’d forgotten to make the introductions. “He’s a friend of Uncle Johnny’s. His name is Ben.”

“Uncle Johnny is in heaven now.” Amy pointed skyward.

Ellie’s throat tightened. “That’s right.”

“Are you from heaven?” Amy asked Ben.

“I’m from the Marines.”

“So you’re not an angel?”

“No.”

“That’s too bad. I thought you could take a message to my Uncle Johnny for me. And show him my drawing.”

“I wish I could.”

Ellie noted the strained expression on Ben’s face.

Frenchie helped ease the moment with her usual skill. “Welcome to my home, Ben. Can I get you something to drink?”

“No, thank you, ma’am.”

“Call me Frenchie. All my friends do. I got the nickname from all those years of living in Paris with my musician husband.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Frenchie.” Ben’s voice had regained its customary tone. It sounded deep and very male.

Ellie looked down at her daughter, smoothing her hair away from her forehead. “Honey, Ben has invited us out to dinner tonight.”

“So we don’t have to eat beans again tonight? Yeah!” Amy quickly gathered her backpack. “I’m ready now.”

“We have to go home so I can change out of my work clothes,” Ellie reminded her, hoping her blush wasn’t too obvious. Amy’s enthusiasm made it seem as if she’d been eating beans for a month.

“Okay, but change fast, ’kay, Mommy? Are we going to have a Happy Meal?”

A meal at a fast-food place was a special treat as far as Amy was concerned. “No, we’re going someplace even better.”

“I didn’t know there was any place better.”

“Would you like to join us, Frenchie?” Ben asked the older woman.

“How sweet of you to invite me, but no thank you. The cable station is running an Antonio Banderas movie marathon. I can’t miss that.”

Ellie hugged her. “Thanks again for taking care of Amy, Frenchie.”

“It’s nothing, ma chère. Enjoy your evening out. You deserve it.”

Amy raced across the hall to the door to their second-story apartment. Ben picked up her backpack and held the door open for Ellie after she’d unlocked and opened it.

“I…uh, I’ll just be a minute or two. You’re welcome to sit down and watch TV while I change.” She gestured toward the couch and tried not to imagine how the place looked to Ben. Not that Marines were that interested in interior decorating. But he probably noticed that there wasn’t much furniture. “I won’t be long. Come on, Amy.”

Ellie had her daughter sit on her bed with one of her favorite books. Then Ellie grabbed some clean clothes from her own bedroom before returning to the bathroom. The tobacco smoke that clung to Ellie’s skin and hair as a result of working at Al’s wasn’t good for Amy. It wasn’t particularly good for Ellie either, but her requests for a larger no-smoking area had resulted in her boss laughing at her.

Ellie rinsed off the bargain shampoo and turned off the faucet before reaching for a towel. She used the hair blower for about three minutes before turning it off and quickly braiding her still-damp hair into a single braid.

It didn’t take her long to get dressed in the clothes she’d grabbed. Her wardrobe choices were extremely limited. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d bought new clothes. Any extra money was spent on getting things for Amy. Which was fine by her. That was as it should be in her book.

Ellie tugged on a pair of black capri pants and a red knit top. She stuck her feet into the pair of sandals she’d picked up for a song at a discount store in the after-season sales a year or two ago.

A quick check in the bathroom mirror told her that she looked clean and respectable. Good. That’s what she was aiming for. She added just a tad of makeup—a quick swipe of some eyeshadow and lipstick and then she was ready.

“Mommy, are you done yet?” Amy demanded from right outside the door.

“All ready.” Ellie stepped out of the bathroom.

Looking over from the sports segment on the TV, Ben immediately rose to his feet. “You look nice.”

Ben figured his words sounded lame, because the truth was that Ellie looked better than nice. And she smelled like fresh lemons. He got a whiff as she walked past him to get her jacket and purse from a hook 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 at the reason for it. She’d been impressed by his ability to recover from his embarrassment at being found playing with dolls by one of his fellow Marines. He’d been incredibly good with Amy all evening.

That didn’t mean that Ellie should depend on him for anything other than his temporary company. If only she could get a little more on her feet financially, then they’d be out of the woods.

On her way out, Ellie discreetly checked to see if the steak house was hiring any more servers, but they weren’t.

The drive back home was uneventful. “Can Ben stay?” Amy asked as they neared their front door.

“It’s already past your bedtime.”

“I want Ben to tell me a bedtime story.” Amy tugged him into the apartment with her, taking him all the way down the hall to her bedroom.

“Honey, Ben probably doesn’t know any bedtime stories. How about I read you Cinderella again?”

“No. I want a new story.”

“Let’s get you into your pj’s first and brush your teeth.” Ellie gently guided her into the bathroom.

“Don’t go, Ben!” Amy ordered before closing the bathroom door.

He waited in her girly bedroom, feeling like a bull in a china shop. The pink comforter had ruffles on the edges. A well-worn stuffed animal had a place of honor near the pillow while a small folded blanket rested at the foot of the bed. It had kittens on it. His gaze moved to the bedside table where a pile of picture books sat.

“Why can’t Ben tell me a story?” Amy demanded as she walked into the room with her mother and hopped into bed.

“Because he doesn’t have children, so he doesn’t know stories.”

“I know stories,” Ben said. Granted, none came to mind that he could relate to a five-year-old kid. But he was a Marine, which meant he was resourceful. Ben stared at the cover of the storybook on top of the pile next to Amy’s bed. “I can do that. No problem. Once upon a time…” All fairy tales began that way, right? “Once upon a time, many years ago in the land of Wonder an evil lord ruled the kingdom. He’d been a good guy once, but then turned to the dark side. His name was…Sir Badlord. And he was feared by all the people in the land.”

“Was he mean?” Amy asked.

Ben nodded solemnly. “Very mean.”

“Hold on a sec, honey,” Ellie said. “I need to speak to Ben.”

“But he’s telling me a story now,” Amy protested.

“Yeah, I know. This won’t take long.”

Ellie tugged Ben off the bed to a corner of the room and leaned close to whisper, “The point of a bedtime story is not to give my daughter nightmares. Kids her age take things literally.”

“Understood. It’s not my intention to scare her. Trust me, okay?”

He returned to Amy’s bedside with Ellie close by his side.

“So what about Sir Badlord?” Amy asked. “What did he do? Blow up the world? Joshua in the reading group at the library is always blowing up the world and making explosion noises. Does Sir Badlord do that?”

“Sometimes. But tonight, he and his gang of dark knights rode out into the night and captured Lady Blush, the daughter of…Guy of Nice. Now, Sir Guy was a nice guy.”

“Was he a good daddy?”

“Yes.”

“Did he love Lady Blush?”

“Absolutely.”

“Mommy says my daddy loves me, but I don’t think he’s a very good daddy.”

Ben wasn’t sure how to respond to the little girl’s confession. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Me, too.” She moved closer. “Tell me more.”

“Well, like I said, Sir Guy was good and people liked him. He did good stuff.”

“Like what?”

“Uh…good deeds. He officiated at jousts, spoke at…baptisms and generally speaking, he ate more chicken than he probably should have, but people liked Sir Guy. A lot better than they liked Sir Badlord. Which made Sir Badlord mad. So he came to Nice castle and took Lady Blush.”

“Was she a princess?”

“Close enough. Anyway, this Sir Guy was beside himself. He knew he had to call on the only one who could get her back—one of the few, the proud. Sir Goodknight.” Ben was really getting into it now. “Goodknight led his squad of knights, squires and pages—known as the Knights of the Black Stone—on many quests in the past. Like the Marines, he valued honor, courage and commitment. So Goodknight agreed to help Sir Guy to rescue Lady Blush. He and the rest of his team gathered to plan the mission and do some recon.”

Ben didn’t realize that he’d gone into a bit too much detail about reconnaissance and intelligence reports until he felt Ellie’s hand on his arm. “She’s fallen asleep.”

“Some storyteller I am.” Ben’s voice was rueful. “It put the kid to sleep.”

“It was quite creative for a Marine.”

“Marines can be creative when the situation warrants.”

“So Sir Guy ate more chicken than he should have, huh?”

Ben shrugged and stood aside while Ellie clicked off the light and checked the night-light before exiting the room, leaving Amy’s door slightly ajar.

“Where did you come up with names like that?” she asked him.

He smiled ruefully. “My brothers accuse me of being too much of a punster.”

“And do they accuse you of eating more chicken than you should?”

“Not if they’re smart.”

The transformation of his smile into a full-blown grin, complete with the hint of a dimple that would have done Dennis Quaid proud, drew her attention to his lips. She’d never momentarily lost her train of thought just by gazing at a guy’s mouth before. “I…uh…I wanted to thank you for this evening.” She had to look away to regain her equilibrium. “The dinner was delicious.”