Chapter Eight

Katy

Later that night, I walk around camp, more restless than I’ve been in two months of being here. I can’t stop replaying my conversation with Gavin. He’s thinking about another child while I’m spending my days piecing other people’s children back together. For the first time in our marriage, I feel a strange sort of distance between us. It’s nothing alarming, and I know I’m mostly to blame. I wasn’t honest with him. In a way, I feel like the life I’m living entails so much more than I’ve shared with him. He asked me for details, and I changed the subject as if I was trying to protect him from the truth. I suppose that’s the way of it. Most soldiers don’t report the daily horrors of what they deal with to their spouses. It doesn’t make for good conversation, especially when those conversations are few and far between. But Gavin is a soldier. If there was ever anyone to vent to, it’s him.

Why didn’t I come clean with what was bothering me?

I needed him to show me the semblance of our reality back home so I could compare it to my current one. I needed that confirmation from him, of what I had to look forward to. This life is a lie. It’s a job, and it’s temporary. Texas and my life with my family is the truth, my future. It’s becoming more apparent than ever that re-enlisting was a mistake. I’m no longer in love with the job. Maybe that’s why. I was ashamed to admit to my husband, a man I respect and a fellow soldier, that I was weary of my sworn duty. I vow the next time I talk to Gavin, to be honest. I’ll tell him I’m done with the United States Army. I’ll take pride in being his wife, a mother, and a part-time nurse, and that will be more than enough for me. Until then, I have to embrace the suck and make the best of my time in Baghdad. To help as many as I can until I get home to where my true life waits.

“You’re thinking awfully hard,” Briggs says from the fence a few feet away. Looking up, I can barely make out his face as he crushes a cigarette under his boot.

“You need to cut that habit, Briggs.”

“I’m more likely to die from a bullet right now, Scottie, let’s not preach.”

“It’s disgusting.”

“It’s better than drinking, which is all I want to do right now.”

“So, this is the somber version of Briggs?”

“Unfortunately.”

“I’m kind of glad to see it. It makes you seem more human.”

In three strides he closes the gap between us, and I can finally see his profile due to the yellow hue of the neighboring tent lights.

“As opposed to the Adonis you daydream about?”

“Stop flattering yourself.”

“Trust me, Scottie, when it comes to you, I don’t.”

“Good to hear.”

Tilting his head, he peers down at me. “What’s got you up and pacing the castle, Princess?”

“The days are getting longer. I guess I was hoping that wouldn’t happen so soon.”

“Miss your son?”

“And my husband,” I add testily.

He takes a step back. “I flirt in good fun, but if it really bothers you, I’ll stop.”

We both speak at the same time.

“No, you won’t.”

“No, I won’t.”

He forces his smile, and I’m saddened by it. “I’ve come to appreciate your cracks, trust me. Don’t go changing to please me.”

“I’m thinking that somehow resembles a compliment, and I’ll take it.”

“You’re still a pig.”

Though cast in shadow, I see his shoulders shake with his chuckle.

“Aren’t you lonely?” I ask, curious.

He draws his brows. “Lonely? No.”

“Don’t you ever get lonely, Briggs? I mean, what are you fighting for?”

“The same thing you’re fighting for.”

“My son?”

He shrugs. “He’s just as good of a reason as any.”

“It’s hard for me to believe you’re that selfless.”

“Why? I’m infantry, Scottie. A foot soldier. And while I’m active, I’m not going to voluntarily sign someone else up to worry and wait. Especially someone I care for. Don’t worry about me, I’m doing just fine.”

“So I hear.”

The corners of his mouth lift. “You sound jealous.”

“More like disgusted. Have you no shame?”

“Shame for what? I’m just another warm body, a vessel for the military. If I go out tomorrow, I want to have at least lived the civilian part of it on my terms, and I do, every chance I get. Otherwise, I lose my own damned identity.”

“And sex is the answer?”

He inches forward, his breath hitting my ear. “I love fucking, Scottie. It’s one of my favorite pastimes, but it doesn’t make me a bad man.”

“Whatever.”

“Jesus, look, I get it, you’re married, you have that moral code to abide by, but out here, it’s hard to adhere to when you don’t have a single person waiting for you when you get off that bus.”

His words strike deep, and instantly I feel ashamed. He still has his passion for the job. Who am I to judge? “I’m sorry.”

“For what? Assuming I’m some asshole who can’t control his dick? I can, but I can’t think of one good reason to abstain. This may be the last time we talk. That chow I ate earlier may be my last meal.”

“That’s how you think?”

“That’s how I live. As Hallmark as it sounds, whether stateside or deployed, I try to make the most of every single day. And if some inviting woman comes my way, I’m not going to turn it down on principle.”

“Fine, I’m sorry, you’re right. That’s the life for you. Your life.”

Amber eyes sear into mine. “Tell me something, Mrs. Straight and Narrow—if you weren’t married with a son, if you weren’t solely devoted to your family, do you honestly think you would be denying your attraction?”

All the blood begins to drain from my face. “What?”

“All I’m saying is I don’t think you’d be so quick to judge if you had the freedom to act on it.” He inches forward as I take a step back.

“Just like that, huh? It’s that easy?”

“I play off the energy,” he spouts smugly. “I know when a woman is attracted to me.” He slowly scans my face. “Her pupils dilate, her breaths come fast, and she constantly stares at my lips.”

My eyes dart away as I try my best to control my breathing.

“So, the way I see it,” he drawls, “we can handle this in one of two ways. The diplomatic route we’ve been going that makes us friends, or we can avoid each other.”

I don’t hesitate. “I choose route two because you’re delusional.”

“Fine,” he nods. “See you in the morning.”

“Shit,” I say, remembering our mission.

His smirk appears. “Yeah, forgot about that, didn’t you?”

“You need to check that ego of yours, asshole. What I have at home is worth a hell of a lot more than anything standing in front of me.”

I stomp off and circle the camp as the weight of his words hits me. Maybe I am attracted to him, and perhaps I didn’t do anything to discourage him, but that stops now. I stalk toward the clinic, deciding to double-check provisions for the morning mission. Bypassing the staff with a quick wave, I head for the supply closet. I’m stopped short by Briggs’s hand as he clicks the door shut behind us. Hearts pounding, our fingers still clasped on the knob, Briggs opens his mouth to speak, but he’s cut off by a loud moan, followed by a grunt. Both of us turn in the direction of the noise to find Morrero bent over Mullins, pistoning his hips as she lays spread on one of the spare operating tables. He is gloriously naked as he works her over, sweat dripping from his brow. She moans below him, lips parting as he cups her breast before sucking a nipple into his mouth. Shock filtering through me, I freeze, paralyzed by curiosity and overcome with threatening lust. The smell of soap and cotton fills my nose as Briggs leans in behind me, close enough so I can feel him looming but far enough away that he’s still skirting the line.

Breath picking up, I take a step back in denial of what I’m seeing, of how it’s affecting me, as Briggs lets out a string of curses.

“Fuck,” he whispers, and every hair on my neck stands at attention. I fight the urge to lean against his frame. My nipples draw painfully tight as Morrero lifts her leg, his muscled ass flexing with every thrust. His fucking is raw—primitive—and I can’t help my reaction as I look on, unable to tear my eyes away.

Involuntarily, I let out a whimper.

“Jesus, Scottie,” Briggs mutters. His lips are so close to the nape of my neck that his exhale is a caress and my panties flood. On edge but too far gone, I stand motionless as I wait for his next exhale. Only when I feel his solid form behind me, the hardness of his chest, do I begin to panic. Morrero begins frantically thrusting, and I break myself away from the spell, turning to face Briggs. His lips are mere inches away, his eyes searching mine.

“Please,” I manage, in a heated whisper, swallowing hard. “Let me out.”

He doesn’t waste a second as he soundlessly opens the door, and we both rush to exit the clinic without being discovered. The fresh air is just the slap in the face I need.

Briggs looks at me with eyes full of apology as we clear the stairs. “I’m so fucking sorry. Jesus, look at you.” I palm the heat in my cheeks, knowing he’s seeing evidence I can’t possibly deny. He closes his eyes tight, as if he’s fighting the last of his restraint, and clenches his fists. “Katy.”

I jerk at the sound of my name on his lips.

In his eyes is clear evidence of everything I feel inside—lust, want, need.

“Please believe me—I only came to apologize. I was out of line back there. A total fucking asshole. I’m trying…so hard with you.”

I can’t spend a second on the implication of what he’s just confessed. Whatever it is he’s thinking about isn’t going to happen.

“It’s fine. I’m fine.”

“Just—” He bites his lower lip as amber fire traces the lines of my body before settling on my mouth. “For once, say what you really feel.” His tone is a command.

A breath passes between us before my defiance—and love and loyalty for Gavin—wins. “I’ve never been so turned on in my life,” I admit. “I can’t wait to go home and take it out on my husband.”

Briggs lets out a long exhale, nods, and walks away.

The next morning, I wake up cranky. Only after the sun beamed under the tent seams did I fall into sleep. I can’t even bring myself to get excited about the mission because it means I’ll have to face Briggs. An unsurprisingly chipper Mullins and I scarf down a quick breakfast before heading out to the Humvees. I should be more nervous, but I’m surprised to find I don’t have much reservation. Well, other than facing Briggs. Maybe it’s because I know that we’re in good hands. I trust my friends.

Friends.

Whether intentionally or not, we blurred that line last night.

When the trucks come into view, I reach out and squeeze Mullins’s hand, feeling her pulse pounding as wildly as my own.

“You nervous?” my best friend asks.

“A little,” I answer, honestly. “You?”

She shrugs. “A little. Kinda feel like throwing up, actually.”

I steal a glance at her face and notice she is looking a little pale. My head swivels side to side. “Don’t do this, girl. Don’t back out on me. I need this mission. It’ll be fine.”

She shakes her head. “You’re right…let’s do this.”

There’s my girl.

The guys wait next to the truck. Morrero and Jones greet us as Briggs talks to one of the clinic staff, signing off on some extra supplies. He glances away from the clipboard and catches my gaze. Something in the way he hesitates tells me he wants to talk, but I quickly avert my eyes to avoid said conversation. If it’s another apology, I don’t want to hear it, and I don’t want to talk about what almost happened last night. I want to forget it. I’m happily married, and no more explanation is needed. If the subject ever comes up again, it will be all too easy to let him know it. I’d been a fool to entertain a flirt, and it hadn’t been harmless. In fact, it had backfired in the worst way. In a fit of anger with myself, I’d written a devotional letter to Gavin, just to try and absolve myself of what I did feel, which is the worst kind of guilt. Thinking and doing might be two different things, but I’m pretty sure the guilt feels the same. I can’t erase it, but I can damn sure steer clear of Briggs. And I swear as he pulls himself into the driver’s side of that Humvee that I will.

“Hey, Jones,” I greet as I settle in the seat beside him.

He smiles warmly. “Scottie.” Jones dips his head. “Finally breaking outta this joint?”

My heart pounds wildly with anticipation. “Finally.” I can’t even feign an amiable smile as I feel Briggs’s eyes on me in the rearview. Everything in me wants to scream at him to stop, so instead, I stare at my boots.

Briggs cranks the engine, and my entire body shakes with the force of the vibration.

He turns his head to the side, smiling at Mullins and then at me. “How do you make five pounds of fat look good?”

I can feel Jones’s body tremble with laughter beside me. No doubt he’s heard this one before.

He hasn’t even put the truck in drive, and he’s already starting. What I admire most about his personality has become infuriating.

Ignoring the bait, I look out the window, but I can still feel his eyes on me. I can also feel Mullins’s glare from the front seat. “How?” she asks in a manner that suggests, ‘my best friend is an asshole.’

Briggs turns back to the front and answers in a tone that lets me know I took the wind out of his sail, and my message was received. “You give it a nipple.”