Chapter One

Chapter One

J acksonville, NC, 1975

Joey Antonio wanted to cut off her feet. Even with the comfy sneakers she wore, the soles of her feet ached. Sharp pain radiated through them all the way up her legs. Twelve hours on her feet at two different jobs was starting to get to her.

"You need a vacation," Sam said. She glanced at the bartender-owner of the Hideaway. He looked ready to fall over himself. Even his regularly cherry Hawaiian shirt did nothing to brighten his pallor. He was scraggly, not getting much sleep the last few weeks. And, she knew that this time of year was especially tough on him. They had a bad time of it lately with his wife's accident. In fact, in the last couple of weeks, he looked like he had aged about ten years.

"I need a lot of things," she said covering up her worry with a smile. "One of them is that order."

His weathered face split into a smile as he did her bidding. He knew what it was like to struggle. His attention was snagged by something over her shoulder. She knew he couldn't see that well without the glasses that he refused to wear unless he was driving.

"You got another table, honey. Do you want Thelma to take it?"

Sam's wife had been making noises about coming back to work, but since she'd broken her arm, neither Sam nor Joey would allow it. She was there, but in the back room and more than likely sleeping—although Thelma would never admit it. If Sam was offering up his wife, Joey assumed she looked like a freaking Mac truck hit her. When she glanced over her shoulder, she knew now why Sam offered Thelma up. A table full of jarheads. Normally, she could handle it, but Sam must have sensed that she was at the end of her rope today.

"No. I can take them."

She straightened her shoulders, then walked her way over to the table. Being where the bar was, and the fact that Sam was an ex-Marine, they always had a lot of them in for drinks. She had gotten accustomed to handling them over the last few months, but it hadn't been easy.

Striding over to the table, she took stock of the group, as she always did. Four of them, all in their twenties, but not new Marines. They were a little older than the newly minted recruit.

All of them were built, like most Marines, but she could tell they were friends and not family…not outside of the Marines.

"Good evening. What can I get for you?"

The four of them immediately grew quiet and all of them smiled except one. He looked…well stunned was the best way to put it. The others all seemed to be ready to charm her though. Great. She wasn't in the mood for Lotharios.

The blond spoke up first. He was taller than the rest, had a bunch of freckles scattered over his face…but she wasn't fooled. Most of the ones who looked so innocent were the worst—she had learned that early enough in life.

"Whatcha got on tap, darlin'?" he asked, his voice heavy with Texas twang.

She named off the beers and he picked one. The other two agreed but the fourth kept staring at her. Not in a creepy way, but he looked shocked as if she had horns growing out of her head. She wanted to ask him what the hell was his problem, but the longer he stared at her, the more self-conscious she became. It took every bit of her control not to reach up and mess with her hair.

It didn't help that he was gorgeous. He was definitely the most attractive of the group. Dark hair, chocolate brown eyes, and he had one of those strong jaws that attracted her.

Well, used to attract her. She pushed that thought away and decided to get on with the order.

"And you? Do you want anything?"

Blondie glanced at his friend and laughed. "Cat got your tongue, Papa?"

He didn't say anything to his friend, and she was starting to wonder if there was something wrong with him. "Papa?" she asked.

"One of his nicknames."

Like she didn't know they all had nicknames for each other and that some of them were horrible. At least this one could be said in public.

"So, would you like to order or should I bring whatever I feel like bringing you?"

Papa shook himself and then…a slow smile curled his lips. Dimples appeared and Joey felt the air back up in her lungs. She did her best to suppress the sigh that threatened to escape. He was attractive to begin with but he was lethal with that smile. She was suddenly hot all over.

"Whiskey, neat."

She nodded and turned to rush back to the bar. Sam was setting up the last of her other order.

"Three Buds and whiskey neat for that Papa fellow."

For a second, Sam stilled then grabbed his glasses off the shelf. After slipping them on, he peered over her shoulder. "I'll be damned. Papa Santini, get your lily white ass over here."

She heard a laugh and then the man approached from behind. Sam came from around the bar—something he rarely did—and pulled the Marine into a bear hug.

"Let me look at you. Lord, I can't believe you're already old enough to be a Marine."

He laughed. "Mom says the same thing."

"Could we get those drinks?" her customers yelled from the other table.

She grabbed her tray and headed off to the other table. By the time she returned, Papa and Sam were already exchanging memories of old times.

"So, Joey, this here is Stewart Santini. His father and I served together. I'm still trying to find out why he didn't call me before he came down here."

"I wanted to surprise you. Mom says to tell you that they'll be down after the holidays and I'm supposed to make sure Thelma is taking it easy."

"She is, thanks to Joey here. Looks after her as if she were her own mother."

Sam and Thelma had only one son, who had been killed in action three years earlier. Since her parents were off in some foreign country again saving the world, Joey had become attached to the older couple.

When Papa or Stewart, or whoever he was, looked at her again, she felt that same weird reaction as earlier. Her body went hot like an electrical spark and she felt breathless. Silly, but nothing she couldn't handle.

"Well, my mother thanks you. Ever since she heard about Thelma's accident, she's been worried."

"How are your brothers?" Sam asked.

Good lord, there were more of them. The thought that there were more of them at home like him was mind-boggling.

"All fine. Dave is finishing up at Annapolis next year. Tony and Adam are still in high school."

"Let me get you those drinks."

Sam hurried around the bar. Stewart really hadn't taken his attention away from her since he had looked at her a few moments earlier.

"So, Joey has to be short for something."

She heard the charm there, and she was honest enough with herself to know it made her want to blush. She just wasn't stupid enough to fall for it.

"Yeah, it is, Stewart ."

He chuckled. "I should have made sure Sam knew not to call me by my real name."

She heard the front door squeak open and a few college students came in. "I'm going to assume you can get your own drink."

"Sure thing, Joey ." He had emphasized her name, rolling his thick northeastern accent over it. She would not admit to anyone but herself that it sent a rush of need coursing through her.

Wanting distance from her disturbing reaction to the Marine, she hurried off to the college students. It really had been a long freaking day.