Lieutenant Commander Stud

CHANCE CARTER

Chapter 1

Chanel

The cordless phone rang and I snatched it up, one hand gripping the portfolio of fabric swatches for Mrs. Jones. I swiped at the buttons, then rammed the receiver against my ear. “Scott’s Interiors, how may I help you?”

“Do you really think it’s necessary to answer the phone like that? Everyone in town already knows who you are.”

“Morning, Paula,” I replied. My best friend usually called earlier than this to give me the details of her commute out of her small town and into the big city for work.

“Did you have a good day yesterday?”

“Uh, yah! I met the cutest guy at work. He had such a tight –”

“Paula.”

“Oh, don’t be such a prude. You’ve got to live a little. You’re nineteen, not ninety. Besides, it’s not like you don’t check guys out when you get the chance.”

I never get the chance – curse of running an interior design store in Meek Springs.

“Did you hear about the cold front coming in this afternoon?”

“Don’t change the subject to weather. That’s so predictable.”

“I’m serious, Paula. It’s another blizzard. There’s going to be snow on the Rocky Mountains and everything.”

“Yawn. Wait, this doesn’t affect our plans to go out, right?”

I rolled my eyes and placed the portfolio on top of the glass counter in my store.

“What plans? We didn’t make any plans.”

“We always have plans, whether you know it or not.”

I turned my back on the floor to ceiling windows at the front, and fiddled with the vases on display. Straightened the china here, adjusted a few flowers there. They were all samples of what I could do given the chance. “I don’t want to go out,” I said.

“Oh God, please help me. You’ve got to blow the cobwebs off your pussy before –”

“Paula!” I flinched and knocked one of the vases onto its side. It rolled to the edge of the shelf and dropped to the hardwood boards. Crash! Splinters of bone china shot across floor. I crouched and cursed under my breath.

“Gosh, relax,” Paula hissed. “It’s just a saying.”

“No, Paula, that’s not a saying.” I rose and examined the mess at my feet. Ugh, I’d have to get the dustpan for this. It’d been such a beautiful piece, too. “And I don’t need to blow cobwebs off my pussy. That’s just a disgusting –”

Someone cleared their throat behind me.

Oh. My. God.

“I gotta go,” I whispered, and hung up. My cheeks transmogrified into blood oranges. If this didn’t travel around Meek Springs like wildfire, I didn’t know what would. Damn Paula and her weird idioms.

I squared my shoulders and spun around to face the newcomer. If anything, my face only grew hotter.

The most gorgeous man I’d ever laid eyes on stood in front of the counter. He wore a uniform – Navy SEALs – and memories of my father crashed home and washed away the present.

“Ma’am?”

I snapped focus back to him. Huge muscles, so tall he towered over me, and a handsome face. Not Justin Bieber handsome either – ew, I’ve never liked that pretty boy look. Dark eyes, matching hair, skin tanned from hours in the sun, and lines on his forehead.

He was probably thirty or something, way too old for me. Not that I had a chance – God, Paula really had gotten to me. And he had to be one of the soldiers from the base up in the mountains. Most of the town was in an uproar over it. They called it an eye sore, but I didn’t see the big deal.

These were men who served our country. If they needed a base up there, who were we to complain about it?

“I’ll come back later, ma’am,” the officer said.

“No, sorry! I- sorry, I didn’t expect anyone to come in this early,” I said, and glanced at the antique grandfather clock opposite. It was just past 8 am on a Saturday morning. Folks in Meek Springs usually hunkered down during the cold hours. “I didn’t mean anything by that cobweb thing. I –” No, no, shut up. Don’t talk about that to the super handsome soldier guy. Idiot, idiot!

The lieutenant hovered on the brink of marching off.

“Is there something I can help you with, Officer… uh?”

“Baker,” he said. “Ryan Baker. There’s no need to call me by my title, ma’am.”

“Okay, then there’s no need to call me ‘ma’am.’ Ha, it kind of makes me feel like I’m my mother.” And my mother was the last thing I wanted to be. She probably would have booted the soldier out of the store if she’d been here. Thankfully, she didn’t involve herself in the running of the place. Only the payments. “My name is Chanel Scott,” I said.

“Good to meet you, Miss Scott.” I could tell he was resisting the urge to call me ‘ma’am’ again. Soldier habits died hard, apparently.

“Just Chanel.” I spared him a sweet smile. “You’re from the base,” I said. I had no idea what it was called, but it was a secret base. “What do you guys do up there?”

“Pardon, ma’am?”

I let the formality slide that time. “Oh, you know, I just wondered. Nobody knows what you guys get up to in those mountains. Most of the town is really shifty about it, so I thought maybe you–”

“That’s classified information, ma’am,” he said, whip-crack loud.

I snapped my mouth shut. Okay, that was a bad idea. “Right,” I said. “So, what can I help you with Officer Baker?” I didn’t bother calling him by his full title, even though I could discern he was a Lieutenant Commander not an Officer. Let him feel the sting of that insult a little.

Gosh, since when had I been petty? Maybe, it was because any hopes of being swept off my feet by a handsome navy man had been dashed like the china vase I crunched over to get to the portfolio. I lifted the thick book and hugged it to my chest.

“I’m not sure you can, ma’am,” he said, and tucked his hands behind his back.

Well, that made sense. No wonder he’d come into my interior design store. “Let me hear what you need. Maybe I’ll surprise you.” Too much innuendo in that. I grew hot all over again.

Ryan Baker sniffed and took a single step forward. Measured, precise. I got the distinct impression he had to be in control at all times. Frown lines deepened on his forehead. “I’m having some trouble creating a comfortable atmosphere for the soldiers in the base.”

“Oh?”

“It’s cold and clinical at the moment. I’d like something that will put my men at ease after a long day of training,” he replied. “What do you suggest?” He glanced at the cushy sofa pressed against the wall, the coffee table in front of it.

Did he think he could buy it? Load it up on that navy Jeep out there and – I narrowed my eyes at the vehicle. There was another soldier inside, sitting there with his arms folded, glaring into my store.

“Uh –”

“I’d like several of these sofas,” he said. “And maybe some curtains. Do you have curtain rails and those hook things?”

“This isn’t a hardware store,” I said. “I don’t sell stuff like that. And I’m not a furniture retailer either.”

“Then what do you do?” he asked, gruffly.

I spread my arms. “Interior design. I evaluate homes and office spaces, then help clients come up with their desired design scheme. After that, I implement it by ordering the necessary fabrics, curtains, and furniture from retailers in the big cities across –”

“Thank you for your time,” Ryan said, and marched for the exit.

“Hey, wait a second.” I crunched over the broken vase and grimaced. “Lieutenant, wait!”

He froze with his palm pressed against the glass, looking back at me.

“If you let me evaluate the interior of the base I can help you.” He didn’t have another option in Meek Springs. I was the only store that specialized in that kind of thing around here. “I can make it a warm space for your men. Relaxing.”

“I don’t think so,” he said.

“Why?”

He didn’t turn. “It’s a top secret facility, ma’am. I’m not permitted to allow civilians on the premises.”

“But you can get a permit for that,” I said. “A contractor’s permit?” I’d been around my father enough to know the lingo and understood what was and wasn’t allowed.

Baker’s expression shifted ever-so-slightly, but that cold professionalism slammed home again, right away. “That won’t be possible, ma’am.”

“Listen, I know I can help you out here. I’m the only option available in this town, and I’m good at what I do. If you’re serious about making your base more comfortable for the men up there then you should be open to –”

“Enough,” he said.

I glared at him. Enough? “I’m not one of your soldiers. And if you think you’re making a good impression on the folks in Meek Springs you can think again,” I said. So what if he’d heard me talk about pussy cobwebs? So what if he was strapping and attractive and everything I’d ever imagined a man to be. Clearly, he had serious attitude problems.

“I didn’t mean to offend,” he said, stiffly.

I planted my fists on my hips, in a pose which mimicked my mother. “A lot of the people here don’t want that base on the mountain anymore. They want to sign some kind of petition and deliver it to their local representative.” Not that it would make a bit of difference. If the U.S. Government wanted that special base in the Rocky Mountains, it was there to stay. “You’d do well to bear that in mind the next time you come down here.” Gosh, what on earth had gotten into me? I was never this critical. Or this forward, for that matter.

“Ma’am, I came in search of a service. That’s all. You can’t provide the service I need.”

“So you decided to be rude?”

“No.”

“And you realize I can provide the service you need? I’m literally the service you need,” I said, and didn’t drop the pose. Heat burned behind my eyes, anger and passion, and good God why did I want to rip the man’s shirt right off?

Lieutenant Baker brought out a whole new side to me.

“I can’t have civilians on the base, ma’am.” He still hadn’t turned to face me full on. “I’d better head out before the storm hits. Thank you for your time, Chanel.”

My name on his lips equaled a shiver down my spine. He showed me his broad, muscled back and left the store. He trooped out to that Jeep and to the driver’s side, clunked open the door, and got in.

The other soldier said a few words but Ryan ignored him and started the engine. He roared off down the street, leaving a wake of exhaust fumes.

“Wow,” I said. “What was that about?” It couldn’t just be my interpretation – the lieutenant had been more than a little upset about my suggestion. He’d been professional and then downright cold.

I didn’t have much experience with men, one boyfriend, yikes, but I’d never been thoroughly rejected or ignored. Not that I was interested in Baker like that. We’d just met and he was rude, and obnoxious, and thoroughly magnetic.

I sighed and traipsed to the office door, opened it then fetched the dustpan from the supply closet inside.

Curiosity danced through my mind. What kind of base was that? What did they have to hide from the public? I marched back into the store and swept up the china, spared a thought for the loss of its beauty.

“Ugh,” I said. “Great start to the day.”

Chapter 2

Ryan

The truck rattled down the road and toward the gated exit which let out onto the route to the base. I grasped the wheel, knuckles white and jaw set.

“You okay, Sir?” Jack asked.

The ‘Sir’ was out of habit. Jack and I had known each other for years. We’d been in training together, though he lagged behind in rank. Fuck, I’d have given anything to trade positions with him. Downgrading a rank would’ve suited me just fine if I could’ve stayed out of Iraq.

“Baker,” Jack said.

I sniffed. “I’m fine, Whitmore,” I replied, and snapped my mouth shut. Hopefully, that would be the end of it.

We trundled up to the exit and a soldier in fatigues waved us down, clipboard in hand.

“Shit, what now?” Jack muttered.

I wound down the window and the soldier halted beside my door and gave a cursory salute. “Afternoon, Sir. I’m afraid the road is closed this afternoon.”

“What’s that?” I asked, and massaged my forehead. “Why would it be closed, Officer Wilkes?”

“Sir, it’s orders from the base. There’s a cold front coming in. No one is coming out or going in until it passes.”

“And when will that be?” My frustration grew. I’d already failed at collecting the necessary items to make life better for my men. I didn’t need a night in town with civilians to mull over the failure.

“The weather guys say tomorrow, Sir. That’s my best estimate,” Wilkes replied.

I tugged on my tongue with my teeth. No use getting frustrated with him. He had a job to do and this was it – maintaining safe entrance and exit for soldiers, and ensuring none of the townies entered the perimeter.

“Sir?” Wilkes prompted.

“Yes, thank you, Officer,” I replied. “We’ll be back tomorrow. You all right out here? Need anything?”

“I’m fine, thank you, Sir.” Wilkes saluted again, then sprinted back to his post inside the concrete sentry house beside the gates. He spared a glance for the sky, and the gathering clouds I hadn’t noticed up until now.

“Shit,” I muttered, and started the engine. I usually didn’t swear in front of my men, but Jack was the exception. Apart from our separation – I’d left for Iraq and he’d been on assignment at home – we’d been through most everything together. I could trust him not to run back to our superiors with tales.

I directed the truck back onto the road and made for town. The first fat drops of rain struck the windshield and I clicked on the wipers. Thunder rolled, and lightning streaked across the sky, illuminating the falling darkness.

“You’ve changed,” Jack said.

“What?”

“You’ve changed. I don’t think we’ve talked about it,” he continued. Jack had always worn his heart on his sleeve. He thought talking about emotional shit was appropriate. I begged to differ. Some things were better left unsaid. Undiscussed.

“We’ll stop at the motel in Meek Springs,” I said. “I’ll put a call in to base and check that everything’s operating smoothly.”

“That’s not even a good attempt at a subject change,” Whitmore said. “Things are awkward between us. Shit, Ryan, you even look different.”

He hadn’t called me by my first name in years. “What is this, a date? Keep quiet, Petty Officer.”

Jack grunted as if I’d struck him and a smidgeon of guilt cracked my cold façade. I directed the truck down the main road and scanned the buildings on either side. I’d never made note of the motel’s location – I’d never needed to.

“Look for a vacancy sign,” I said, curt as a door snapped shut, and continued my own search.

Civilians rushed for their cars, women and children, men in overalls. One lady tried opening an umbrella only to have it blown from her grasp. She shrieked and darted after it.

My thoughts skipped to the woman I met in the store. Chanel. A beautiful name which matched her face, her body – I cut that off short. No chance I’d ever meet up with her again, and that was a good thing.

I couldn’t afford distractions. They’d already cost me too much. They’d cost me lives.

“There,” Whitmore said, and thumbed his window. “Next to the bar.”

I pulled up in front of the place, then got out of the truck. Whitmore followed my lead and we traipsed through the rain, that was quickly turning to sleet, and into the interior of the Meek Springs Motel.

“Good afternoon.” The elderly woman behind the desk shifted her glasses up the bridge of her nose. “How many I help you gentlemen?”

“Ma’am, we’re seeking board for the evening. Do you have any available rooms?” I asked.

“Why, yes, Officer, I do,” she said. She shuffled out of her seat, then moved to a wooden pegboard on the wall opposite. She shifted two keys off the hooks, then handed them over. “Here you go. We don’t serve dinner, unfortunately, but the bar next door has a pizza night this evening. Most of the town’s residents will be there.”

I could think of nothing I’d enjoy less. I was never big on crowds, and that got worse after my stint in Iraq. Crowds equaled danger. They meant the possibility of death or ambush.

“Thank you, ma’am,” I said.

“Storm’s brewing,” the woman replied. “You soldiers keep safe, now, hear?” She offered up a querulous smile, then moved back to her chair. “Rooms are on the first floor. Numbers 101 and 103. Let me know if you need anything else.”

This was a far cry from the reception I’d expected. The rumors which had leaked through the base, much to my chagrin, had all indicated a negative attitude toward the soldiers. Folks in the town had started a gossip chain about the base. They believed we performed unnatural experiments up in the Rocky Mountains. Ridiculous.

“Thanks,” Jack said.

We made for the door in the corner.

“No funny business neither,” the woman said.

I halted at the door, the key to room 103 biting into my palm. “Excuse me, ma’am?”

“No funny business in the rooms. I know what your type are like. Handsome soldiers. I met a few in my day.” She winked, then picked up a magazine and hid herself behind it.

Five minutes later, I was in a motel room with a view of the town. It was picturesque, set against the back drop of the Rocky Mountains, clouds rolling overhead, and sleet pounding the cars parked out on the road. The streets had cleared.

“Knock, knock,” Jack said, behind me.

I flinched. Shit, had I lost my touch? I was so involved in the view I didn’t heard his approach.

“What a shithole, am I right?” Jack asked, and entered my room.

I turned on him. “You’d do well to change that attitude, Whitmore. These folks won’t take kindly to hearing that from you. The opinion of the base is already low.”

“Didn’t seem that bad,” Jack said. “The old lady downstairs was friendly enough. Oh yeah, and that hot chick in the interior design store.”

An ice stone dropped in my stomach.

“She was nice, wasn’t she? Couldn’t take her eyes off you.”

Blow the cobwebs off my pussy. The words came right out of her mouth as I entered the store, and they nearly floored me. It’d been so long since I’d encountered an attractive woman, and any thoughts of ‘pussy’ were out of the question.

She gave me an instant boner. Luckily, I had a second to bring my fantasies under control.

“You’re not going to agree with me?” Jack asked. “She was hot as fuck, right? Nice piece of ass. I wouldn’t mind dipping into that, myself. In fact, maybe when I’ve got a few hours away from base, I’ll –”

“Stop.”

Jack flashed a sharp grin. “What’s wrong, Ryan? You don’t like the thought of me with her? I’d treat her real nice too.”

“That’s inappropriate, Whitmore.” I sighed and knuckled my forehead. It was as if he wanted to see how far he could push me before I snapped.

“Dude,” Jack said, “who are you? What happened to you? You were never Don fucking Juan, but you didn’t back away from women in the past.”

“We’re in uniform and I’ve got a base to look after.”

“Whatever,” Jack said. “You’ve changed.”

I gritted my teeth. Hadn’t I made myself clear about this?

“You’ve got to talk to someone about it.” His tone softened. “If you keep that shit bottled up inside, you’ll end up exploding and then you’ll really regret it.”

“Thanks for the psychoanalysis, Whitmore,” I replied, and turned back to the view, only so I wouldn’t have to meet his gaze.

“We were buds,” Jack said. “Fuck it, man, I wish I’d been deployed with you so that –”

“If you’d been deployed with me, you’d be dead,” I snapped. Dead like all the other men who were under my command. Dead in the desert. Dead with sand clogging his nostrils and filling his ears. I clenched my fists.

“You couldn’t have predicted the ambush,” Jack said. “You’re being too hard on yourself, Ryan. Even your superiors didn’t blame you for it. Why else would they have given you a Purple Heart?”

“Just stop.”

But he didn’t stop. He wouldn’t, and it made me crazy inside. It brought back flashes of memory. Gunfire popping off, the whizz of bullets over our heads, the truck leading the convoy exploding. Ears ringing.

“You carried him for miles,” Jack said. “How can you –?”

“He died anyway.” The artificial noises faded, slow to disappear. “They all died. I was responsible for those men and their deaths, the losses their families incurred, all of it was my responsibility and my fault. I don’t expect you to understand that.” The last sentence whipped through the motel room.

It was a hurtful thing to say to a man who got lost in the ranks while I shot ahead, even with the mistakes I’d made. Another crack of guilt. Shit, I could’ve handled all of this better, but the incident was still too close.

“Fine,” Jack said. “Fine, Lieutenant.”

An awkward silence was broken only by the rush of water against the roof and windows. A car sidled up the street and parked down below. The sky had darkened and lampposts clicked on up and down the street.

Apparently, the residents of Meek Springs were accustomed to extreme weather. It didn’t stop them from leaving their homes and heading to the bar.

Jack’s hand fell on my shoulder. “Sorry for bringing it up,” he said, and cleared his throat. “I – uh, I know you don’t want to talk about it. We good, Baker?”

I swiveled and gave him the barest of nods, a slight smile twisted the corner of my lips. “We’re good,” I said.

“Thank fuck for that. Listen, though, I’m starving, man. What’s say we head next door and grab a bite? Pizza sounds good right about now.”

It beat army rations. Though, to be fair, the chef on the base did a fantastic job cooking for the men and women up there. I’d had plenty of great meals in the mess hall. “Yeah, let’s head out.”

“Aw yeah! Let your hair down, Baker,” Jack said. He reached up and ruffled what was left of my hair – buzz cut – then chuckled. “Leggo!”

“Contain yourself, Petty Officer.”

He ignored me and practically sprinted for the door. It only hammered home the fact that the soldiers on base weren’t all that at home. If I were only able to improve the aesthetic… but no, it was too late for that now.

I’d come up with another plan in the morning. For now, pizza and an early night’s sleep was the best I could do for myself and for Jack – the soldiers on base would have to wait for their upgrade.

I headed into the hall, and the lights flickered. An ominous sign?

I shook off the paranoia and followed Whitmore to the stairs.

Chapter 3

Chanel

I sat on the bed in Paula’s room and massaged my temples. I hadn’t even changed out of my work clothes – jeans and a blouse – because going home meant seeing mom, and I just wasn’t in the mood for another day of ‘quiz Chanel about why business isn’t better.’

Paula fluttered around the room, from the dresser to the mirror, then back again, and held a dress to her bosom. “What about this one?” she asked, and swayed from side-to-side on the spot. “Do you think it’s cute? Think it will land me one of those soldiers from the base.”

“Uh – what?” I hadn’t told her about my run-in with the handsome albeit grumpy Lieutenant Baker. My cheeks burned in anticipation of relaying that particular tale.

“What’s up with you? Your mind seems to be all over the place today. Is it, like, the weather getting you down?”

Thunder rumbled outside as if on cue.

“Maybe,” I replied. But no, that wasn’t it. For the first time ever I’d felt a real connection with a man, he just happened to be totally out of reach. No way, this had to be my hormones. God, the minute I told Paula about it she’d likely spout off more ‘cobwebbed pussy’ rhetoric, and that was the last thing I needed to hear.

“Okay, you’re actually starting to creep me out a little. You’re just staring off into space. Is it your mother? Is she bothering you again?”

“No,” I said. “Well, yeah, she’s always bothering me, but that’s not it.”

“Then what’s up.”

“A soldier came into the store this afternoon,” I said. “Before the storm, obviously.” Storms mattered in Meek Springs. The folks here measured everything by them. The weather could equal life or death when it brought blizzards that wiped out crops and livestock.

“A soldier. Is that why you dropped me like a hot tamale?”

“Yeah,” I said. “Oh God , he heard me talking about cobwebs on, you know.”

Paula screamed a laugh and dropped her dress in a puddle of fabric. “You’re kidding.” She dragged a chair out from behind her dressing table, turned it backward, then sat down wide-legged, her forearms balanced on the crossbar. “So? Did he ask you out or something?”

“What? No, of course not. He wanted decorations for the base,” I said.

“Okay, so no big deal.”

“No.”

Paula blinked. “You’re losing me here. Why are you as red as cranberry sauce? I mean, big deal, soldier came in and asked for stuff. Nothing happened, right?”

“Nothing happened physically,” I said. “I just – I can’t get this guy off my mind.” I stood up and paced in front of her. “Which is really stupid since he’s almost twice my age and he was super rude at one point.”

“Was he hot?”

“Is it cold tonight?” I countered.

“Freezing.”

“Exactly. Muscles and those eyes.” I shuddered and rubbed my arms. What on earth had gotten into me? I’d never been one affected by looks. I preferred men who had a gentle spirit, not grumpy assholes who couldn’t see past their own ego. “He was a dick, though.”

“Why?”

“Just acted like one,” I said. “And he was super secretive. It’s just a soldier. And I guess, I know it’s stupid, but I guess I’m fixating on him for other reasons.”

Paula narrowed her eyes. “Don’t start.”

“Come on, you know it’s not –”

“I just hate hearing about it, okay?” Paula rose from the chair and stomped over to her cupboard. Whenever I brought up this topic her mood changed. She was already temperamental, this just accentuated that side of her.

“Fine,” I said. “Then we don’t have to talk about it.”

“Yeah, whatever.”

Silence fell and Paula ripped hangers along the bar in her closet. One, two, three. She tore a dress out, snorted, then tossed it over her shoulder. I chewed the inside of my cheek and tried not to think of Ryan Baker and his muscles and his bad attitude.

My dad died in combat a long time ago. Navy SEALs all the way. I respected him and loved him dearly, but the minute he was gone, mom took over and I couldn’t help feeling a little sour about that.

“What kind of friend am I?” Paula asked, and spun on the spot. She grasped a red dress in one hand and a black in the other. “Huh? What kind?”

“What on earth are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about, what kind of friend am I if I can’t be supportive of you when you want to talk about – you know, that?” Paula shimmied her shoulders up and down. “So go ahead, talk.”

“Paula –”

“Talk!”

“You already know how I feel about Meek Springs,” I said. “I just can’t help thinking that me fixating on this soldier guy is for a reason other than his mouthwatering physique.”

“Damn, he must be hot if you’re calling him mouthwatering. You’re super picky.”

“I’m serious. I think it’s my subconscious and it’s ridiculous. I’m so desperate for someone to whisk me away, out of this town, away from mom’s store and into a place I can call my own.”

Paula sighed. “You know how I feel about this.”

“I know,” I said. “I know you wouldn’t want me to leave, and that I should be grateful for what I have.”

“A steady job. A roof over your head. The pick of any guy in this town.”

“Talk about slim pickings,” I said.

“Still, Timothy’s totally into you and he’s the most eligible bachelor in town,” she replied.

I struggled to restrain an eye roll. “Great. Just what I wanted. That’s the thing, Paula, I don’t need some guy to sweep me off my feet. It’s wrong that I crush on some random soldier dude, but I know why it’s happening. I want out. I want away from this town. I want my own life.”

“I want, I want, I want,” Paula said. She was a straight shooter and I trusted her to set me back on track when I strayed too far from the rails.

“Selfish, I get it.” But that wasn’t entirely fair on me. Dad died when I was just 12 years old. I spent the next seven years under my mother’s wing, more like in her talon-like grip, and all I wanted was a little freedom. Something better than being told what to wear and where to go every single day.

Shoot, she’d probably lose her shit at me the minute I got home.

“Quit thinking about her,” Paula said. She had a knack for reading me. “She can’t reach you here, and unless she plans on marching down to the bar in this weather, she’s not going to find you.”

“The bar?” I shook my head. “I’m not going to the bar. I thought we were having a slumber party.”

“What are we, pre-teens? Get real. We’re going out.”

“But –”

“There’s nothing to eat here, anyway, and I know the Springs Bar ‘n Grill is serving pizzas all night,” Paula said. “We’re going. Hence the dresses. Pick one.”

“It’s freezing out,” I said. “I’m not wearing a dress in this weather.”

“Well, you’re not wearing work clothes to the bar.”

I folded my arms and she mimicked me. A standoff ensued. If my mother found out I’d gone to the bar she’d lose her mind. She had me on a strict curfew and if I didn’t stick to it she took away whatever privileges I had.

She owned the store. I worked in the store. If I didn’t do what she wanted, she refused to pay me, basically. I had no other home to go to, and I sure couldn’t move into Paula’s tiny apartment. She already had an annoying roommate.

My cell burst to life in my pocket, and I wormed it out. Mom’s name flashed on the screen.

“Right on cue,” I said, and flashed it at my friend.

“How do you even have bars in this weather? Seriously.”

“It’s my mother. She’s powering the cellphone towers with her will to dominate.” I swiped my thumb across the screen, then placed the smart phone to my ear. “Hello?”

“Don’t hello me, Chanel. Where are you?”

“What do you mean, mom? I told you I was coming over to Paula’s,” I said. “We’re having a slumber party, remember?” I grimaced at the term. It was kinda dinky, given that we were a pair of nineteen year olds.

“Hold up the phone,” mom said. “I want to hear where you’re really at.”

“Are you kidding?”

“You’re at the bar, aren’t you? Hold up the phone!”

I blushed and held up the phone. God, I wasn’t sixteen anymore, but I couldn’t say no to my mother. I hadn’t studied anything except interior design, and even that was from home. She hadn’t given me leeway in years.

“Hello, Mrs. Scott!” Paula yelled. “Thanks for your call. We’re having a great time with all these fat co –”

I kicked off my shoe and it hit my friend in the stomach. She broke into a bout of hysterical giggles.

“Mom?” I placed the phone to my ear. “Do you hear there’s nothing going on? We’re just at Paula’s.”

“Just at Paula’s. That girl is always up to something. I don’t want to catch wind of you two up to anything. All right? If I hear you were down at the Springs Bar n’ Grill, I’ll –”

“I know, mom.” I sighed. “We’re just going to hang out here and watch movies. We’re heating up a pizza in the oven.”

“A pizza. Girl, you know you need to watch your weight. Cholesterol is a big problem,” she said.

I was tiny. It wasn’t vanity, thinking that, it was truth. I had my mother’s genes, apart from the height. “Cholesterol. Sheesh, mom, it’s not like it’s an egg pizza. Look, I’ve got to go. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

“No funny stuff, Chanel. I’m warning you.”

“I know, mom. Bye.”

“I love you, sweetheart. Bye, bye, now.” She hung up first. Even if I said goodbye first, my mom always made sure she hung up before I did. She had to have the last say, or that last vestige of control. It drove me fucking crazy.

“Wow,” Paula said. “Have I ever told you your mother’s a total bitch?”

“She’s just overprotective.”

“She’s controlling your entire life. You could’ve been out of this town and living large in friggin’, I don’t know, Chicago or something. Shoot, you could’ve moved to Canada and hooked up with one of those mountain dudes. The rangers?”

I rolled my eyes and didn’t answer. What could I say? I didn’t have a say in anything that went on in my own life. I’d done my best, I’d been a good daughter, and still I didn’t receive a modicum of respect.

I put my cellphone on silent, then slipped it into my pocket. “Let’s do it,” I said.

“Do what?”

“Go out. Let’s get dressed up and go to that bar. I don’t care anymore. I want to get drunk. Or at least tipsy.” I’d never been big on drinking, but what the heck. If I couldn’t live it up away from Meek Springs, I’d live it up right here.

I didn’t have much of a choice in the matter, it appeared.

“Yassss, bitch! That’s the spirit. Okay, so I think you should wear the red dress. I’ve got a fluffy coat that goes with it. Oh, and you have to do heels. I mean, this is not the big city but it’s, like, all we have.”

“You don’t think it’s a bit much? I mean, it’s just a small town bar.” I’d been a couple times under similar circumstances. I wasn’t a prude, after all, but I’d never dressed up for the occasion.

“Tonight, darling, we’re going to let our hair down,” Paula said, and flipped her bright, red locks to drive home the point.

I couldn’t help the nerves that bubbled up in response.

Chapter 4

Ryan

I positioned myself in the corner of the room and looked out on the locals from behind my beer bottle. I swigged some of the stuff back, then clunked the bottle down on the table. Most of the local folks had given us a wide berth.

Jack’s enthusiasm for our little trip had worn off pretty damn fast when the chatter quieted upon our entrance.

“At least the pizza’s good,” Jack said, and took a bite of his slice.

“Chef probably spat on it,” I replied, just to piss on his parade a little. The beer had already lowered my inhibitions. I’d turned back to change into plain clothes back at the motel – I always brought a set of plain clothes with me, out of habit. Civilian wear had helped grease the wheel in countless stores in Meek Springs.

Folks were more likely to sell to a buff guy in Levis than they were to a soldier with a buzz cut and a commanding presence.

Jack chewed through another slice of pizza, then chased it down with more beer. Rain thundered on the roof, but it was a buzzing noise, barely audible over the twanging country music that blasted through the speakers.

Smoke drifted from cigarettes at the bar. Men gathered around and laughed at each other’s lame jokes. Women gossiped or hung off their boyfriends.

“She’s pretty,” Jack said, and nodded to one of them – a chick in a mini and high heels. I didn’t want to think how cold she’d get outside. “Looks like she’d be a good lay.”

“Don’t be such a fucking sleaze, Whitmore,” I said.

“Man, you really have changed. You never had a problem talking about this shit before. You drooled over bitches as much as I did,” he replied.

It wasn’t the drooling that was the problem. It was that he lacked any form of respect, and that wasn’t something I could get on board with. “They’re women, not bitches.”

“Sorry, Ellen,” he snorted. “I didn’t realize you’d gone all feminist on me.” He inhaled another slice of pizza. “Fuck it, I’m gonna get us another round. You keen?”

I didn’t reply, but hey, it wasn’t as if we had anything better to do. This was infinitely better than the nightmares I’d be having back in the motel. Every night it was the same. Sand, and flashes of blood, and explosions. Screams. The weight of a dying man in my arms.

Jack meandered off to the bar and the crowd separated around him. We weren’t in uniform, but the folks in here knew a soldier when they saw one. The buzz cut gave it away.

I sighed and pressed the cold bottle to my forehead. I’d had enough shit to last me a lifetime.

Fuck it, we shouldn’t have come here. If something did go down, I’d be directly responsible, and at the rate Jack imbibed alcohol it would be a miracle if we left this bar unscathed.

Jack disappeared amongst the locals and I held my breath, waited for the first shout followed by the thwack of fist meeting jaw.

Nothing. The soldier squished between two huge fellows with their ladies on their arms, both women admired Jack’s ass, then made his way back to the table with two brimming glasses.

“What’s this?” I asked.

“More beer,” he said. “It’s their micro-brew. Tastes pretty fucking awesome.”

“Hey, we’re out of uniform but that doesn’t mean you get to lose your sense of –”

The door swung inward and let in a gust of icy air and water, followed by a young redheaded woman, and a gorgeous, petite blonde, drowning in a fluffy coat.

“What’s with you?” Jack asked, and nudged my elbow with the base of his glass. “You’ve lost your words. That never happens. Where’s the commanding Lieutenant I know so well?”

That woman stripped off her coat and revealed a tight, curvy body. She said something to her friend.

Turn around. Turn around. I had to see her face. It couldn’t be her. Chanel, that was her name, she wouldn’t come here, surely? Why would she when she had a home to get to and work in the morning?

“Dude, what the fuck are you staring at?” Jack asked, just as the music dipped. His voice rang out and just about every human fucking being in the bar turned to stare. Including her.

And it was her. Chanel.

Crystal blue eyes and soft, cherry red lips which matched that dress. Sweet baby Jesus, the woman made me fall apart and I’d barely spoken to her. I cleared my throat and broke eye contact. “Thanks for that, Jack.”

“Holy shit,” he whispered, as the music picked up again. A Shania Twain classic, this time. “It’s her. It’s the hot chick. You’ve got to bang her. Show her a good time.”

I glanced in her direction, but she was caught in what appeared to be an argument with her friend. The redhead gesticulated wildly. She pointed at our table while Chanel shook her head, cheeks now matching the color of that dress.

“Fuck her, dude,” Jack hissed.

“If you call me dude one more time, Whitmore, I’m going to drag your white ass back to base in the rain and make you run laps. Understand?”

“Yes, Sir.”

I switched my gaze back to the soldier in front of me. How had I ever been friends with this jackass. There was brotherhood, sure, but he was a creep.

“And enough about banging women. We’re here because we’re stuck here. There won’t be any of that.”

“Hi!” The redhead popped up beside our table, and I almost knocked over my glass. “I’m Paula. What’s your name?”

“Jack,” he said, and extended his hand. “It’s good to meet you, ma’am.”

“Please, call me Paula,” she said, and fluttered long lashes at him. Chanel stood behind her, hovered and looked ready to run.

“Paula,” Jack said, and shook her hand. “That’s a beautiful name. And what’s your name, sweetheart?”

I restrained a grimace. Did he have to be such a fucking cheeseball?

“Her name’s Chanel,” Paula said. “And I believe she already knows you.”

“Not me.” Jack tilted his glass toward me. “But she knows him. Isn’t that right, Ryan?”

If not for the country music and shouts of laughter from the bar, the quiet which separated us would’ve been awkward.

“Do you like to dance?” Paula shouted over the music.

“Sure,” Jack said.

“Good.” She hooked her arm through his and dragged him from his seat. They set off for the tiny dance floor in the corner, Jack’s hand already seated in the small of the redhead’s back.

I gulped down some beer to deal with the vacuum they’d left behind.

Chanel bit her bottom lip and looked at her feet. “Well, it was nice to see you again,” she said, then turned in the direction of the bar.

“Wait, where are you going?” I lurched forward and caught her by the wrist. The press of my skin against hers sent my senses into overdrive.

She looked at the point of contact, then swallowed. “I don’t want to bore you, Lieutenant. Or frustrate you.”

“You’re not doing either of those things.”

“It sure seemed like I did them today,” she replied.

Oh. Shit. My attitude in the store left an impression on her, all right. I had good reason for that. She was a civilian and didn’t understand my life as a soldier. I didn’t blame her for that but her insistence today definitely irritated me.

“Sorry about that,” I grunted. “I guess I need to work on my people skills. Would you like to take a seat? I’ll buy you a drink.”

“I – sure,” she said, and slipped in next to me. Her hip touched mine.

Tension destroyed thoughts of conversation. Her heat filtered through her dress and my pants, and I swallowed. Couldn’t keep my mind out of the gutter. It’d been years since I’d touched a woman, let alone one as beautiful and soft as Chanel.

“You smell amazing,” she said, then blushed. “Oh my God, I’m sorry. I don’t know why I said that.”

“Thanks.” I chuckled. “You look beautiful.”

She colored and shifted a little closer to me. Any closer and she’d have been in my lap. “I thought you went back to the base,” she said.

“Yeah, I was supposed to, but the storm rolled in. Can’t drive out in this weather,” I said. Weather. That was what our conversation had come to. Why was it so difficult to concentrate? I hadn’t had much to drink, yet. This should’ve been easy.

She was a beautiful woman, but I’d never had trouble talking to one before.

Chanel brushed her fingertips down my arm, and my mouth dried out. Fuck that. She couldn’t have this much power over me. One touch and I’d already stiffened for her. “How about that drink?”

She dragged her teeth across her bottom lip. “There are more interesting things to do than drinking in this town,” she said.

“Even in this weather? I heard it might snow tonight,” I replied, and tracked her fingertips as they stroked. Up and down, back and forth. The hairs on my arm stood on end.

“Especially in this weather,” she said. “I’m not usually this brazen. Okay, I’m never this brazen, but there’s something about you, Lieutenant. I – I don’t know how to explain it.” She turned, caught my eye, and pressed her breast against my bicep.

Jesus H. Christ. I couldn’t deal with this. I was supposed to be the responsible one. Jack and Paula were out there rubbing up on each other.

“I like the way you say that,” I said, instead of pumping the brakes on this whole encounter. I brushed her hair back and tucked it behind her ear.

Her lips parted and she made a tiny noise which was almost lost in the clamor. Her fingers stalled their passage and came to rest.

“I’d better get out of here,” I said. “I – uh, I need to get my rest. Get back to the base tomorrow.”

“Oh.” Chanel glanced at her friend, who was now wrapped around Jack, then nodded. “Yeah, that makes sense. I’m supposed to be staying over at Paula’s but I’d wager there won’t be space in her room tonight.”

“Do you need a ride home?”

“No!” Chanel measured her tone. “I mean, no, thank you. I can’t go back there tonight. It’s complicated.”

Did I want to know what the complication was? Was she married or something? But no, the hand on my arm bore no ring, and she was young too. Her body tight and curved in all the right places. Shit, what did that have to do with anything?

“You can’t stay here,” I said. “I could get you a room at the motel.”

“Get me a room?” Her lips twitched at the corners. Some of the sassiness I’d seen in the store streamed back, and I liked it. I liked her strength. “You’d get me a room to save me from spending the night listening to Paula engage in the no pants dance?”

“No pants –” I burst out laughing. “I haven’t heard that in years.”

She resumed stroking my arm, this time trailing her fingers over the cuff of my shirt and up to my neck. She tugged once on my earlobe. “I don’t think it’d be appropriate if you booked me a room. Besides, Mrs. Henny is already asleep at this time.”

I couldn’t take much more of this. Each touch brought a wave of arousal and I wasn’t prepared for it. I’d never had a reaction like this before.

Chanel seemed caught between shy and downright flirty. I loved it. It reflected how I felt about this situation. I never allowed myself a moment of pleasure, and this woman gave me just that.

Looking at her was a vacation from the constant battle in my mind.

Two men at the bar broke the tension between us by raising their fists. One of them – cross-eyed and red as a beet – yelled an insult. It was time to get out of there before things bubbled over. A couple guys would take the opportunity to pick a fight with a soldier.

“Let’s talk about it upstairs,” I said. “I won’t leave you here. This isn’t a place for a woman like you.”

“A woman like me?” she asked, eyes sparkling. “What does that mean?”

“It means you’re better than this place,” I said.

Pleasure flashed across her expression, and she hooked her arm through mine. “I’m ready.”

Chapter 5

Chanel

The motel room had a view of the street outside, now ice cold, the sleet from earlier freezing on the sidewalk. I’d slipped and almost fallen on the way up, but Ryan caught me and held me upright.

I shuddered at the memory of that touch.

The door clicked shut behind me, a beat passed, and then he was at my back. He didn’t invade my space, but he was close enough that heat poured from his skin and caressed mine. I’d left the fluffy coat back in the bar.

I didn’t give a shit. Paula could buy a new one for all I cared.

“I’m not usually like this,” I said, and didn’t turn around. “I don’t just come up to strange men’s rooms and talk to them about – I don’t know. I don’t do this.” Perhaps, I shouldn’t have come.

But whatever force drew me to Ryan glued me in place.

“I’m not like this either,” he said.

We spoke as if we’d already decided to take this further. My insides clenched and tightened up. Low heat spread from my tailbone inward, curling through my core, warming me from the inside out.

My cheeks flushed and I trembled. He hadn’t even touched me, yet. I couldn’t look at him.

“Chanel,” he said. He placed those massive hands, too big, too strong, on my hips and rotated me.

Our eyes met and I gasped. Electric connection. Too strong. What the hell was this? “Hi,” I said, and smoothed my fingers down his arms, over the muscles of his biceps and down to those hands.

I didn’t have other words for him. I lost the ability to articulate anything of worth.

He tugged me a little closer, and I gasped again. He was hard. Painfully hard, and the outline of his dick told me everything I needed to know about his size. Holy fucking shit. I was in huge trouble here. Excuse the pun.

I stammered, but nothing came out.

“Sorry,” he said. “It’s been a long time since I’ve held a beautiful woman.”

Once again, words failed me. I settled for slipping my arms around his neck and chaining him. Pressing my breasts to his body.

I’d done this kind of thing with one other man, but I had the distinct impression that Ryan would ruin my memory of him. That he’d ruin me for anyone else, for that matter.

It wasn’t just his body, his eyes, the tension connecting us. It was everything about him.

There was something behind all of this, a deeper meaning which terrified me.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

I nodded.

“Sure? I can take you home. I’ve got the truck out –”

I cut him off by circling my hips. A slow rhythm.

He drew breath. Eyelids fluttered. “Irresistible,” he muttered, then cupped my cheek and drew his lips closer to mine. Closer, closer, painfully close, hot breath dancing across my skin. Smell of smoke and beer, and then the heady scent beneath it all. The smell that was just so him.

It reminded me of warm days under the summer sun. Of comfort and home.

His lips touched mine and I melted against him.

“Oh God,” I groaned, into his mouth. Finally, I could speak again.

His tongue found mine and he massaged it with slow, sweeping motions. Moist and just fucking delicious.

I sucked his bottom lip, then nibbled it, worked my hands down his back, gripping the muscles beneath his shirt. I tugged at the fabric, desperate to have it off him. I needed his skin against mine. He was so fucking hot it burned my soul.

We broke apart. “Here,” he said, eyes unfocused. He lifted his arms.

I grasped the hem of his shirt and pulled it up and over his head. The sleeves hooked on those arms. And then he was topless and I lost the will to move.

Planes of muscles, a six pack, definition I’d only seen in Vin Diesel movies and nowhere else. I quivered. “Wow,” I whispered. He wasn’t lean muscle. He was stocky and powerful.

Ryan hooked his fingers under either of my dress’s straps. His gaze searched mine, now, checking, once again, that this was what I wanted.

I chewed my bottom lip and gave the tiniest nod. Yes, I wanted this. I’d never wanted anything more than I wanted this.

He worked the straps over my shoulders and dragged them down. My breasts popped free, nipples puckering in the cool air.

Ryan sucked in air. He bent in front of me and took my nipple between his lips. He licked a circle around it, then sucked hard.

I slapped my hands onto his back and hung on. I’d never been big on breast play, but his tongue teasing my skin brought me to new heights. This was what it was supposed to feel like.

I’d figured all the groans and moans in romantic movies were for show. Now, I got it.

Ryan kissed a trail from my left nipple to my right, then nibbled it. Goosebumps spread from the point of contact outward.

I was one big nerve-ending and I couldn’t handle much more of this. I needed him inside me. I jerked on his buckle, undid it, and stripped the belt off.

Ryan growled and massaged my breasts with both hands. He gathered them together and took my nipples in his mouth, sucked hard and worked them with his tongue.

“Oh.” It was all I could get out. I fumbled with the top button of his jeans. Finally, it popped free, and I wormed the zipper down. “Wait,” I said.

He backed off immediately. “Okay?” He cleared his throat. “You okay?” His chest rose and fell, rapidly. He wanted this as much as I did.

“It’s my turn,” I said. I tugged his jeans down and freed him.

His dick throbbed, as huge as I thought it would be. Veins down his shaft and impossibly thick. He dripped pre-cum, a long trail dribbled down his shaft.

I dropped to my knees in front of him, bottom half still restrained by my tight, red dress. I took his dick in my mouth and sucked up those juices, tasted him and was transported.

“Don’t,” he said, and touched my shoulder.

I looked up at him, mouth still full. My jaw ached, though I hadn’t even started yet.

“Not yet.”

I licked a circle around his head, just to tease him a little.

He throbbed and thickened between my lips. “Chanel,” he growled. “Not like this.” He tugged me to my feet.

“Why?” I frowned. He didn’t like it?

“I want the first time to be something special,” he said, then snagged a handful of my hair and dragged me into another soul-destroying kiss.

The first time? How many times would there be?

I pushed the questions away and melted against him.

Ryan walked me backward. We hit the bed and tumbled onto it, still kissing. He braced his arms on either side of my head.

I reached down and pulled my dress all the way off, exposing myself. I hadn’t worn underwear tonight, but only because I didn’t want to show panty lines.

Ryan pressed his forehead to mine and admired my body. “Fuck, you’re perfect.” His dick throbbed against my abdomen.

I couldn’t take much more of this. I reached between us and grasped the base of his cock, then guided it toward my slick, quivering entrance. “Please,” I said. “I need it. I need you. Please.”

He took control from me, pressed his head between my wet lips, but didn’t enter me. “I need you too,” he replied, and his expression clouded over for a second. “Too much.”

I wrapped my legs around his waist and bucked him forward.

Ryan slid into me, parted my folds and pierced the warmth between my legs.

“Fuck,” he said. “You’re so wet.”

“Uh-huh.” I placed pressure on his ass with my heels. “More.”

He entered me, pressed himself deeper and deeper, and pleasure sharpened with pain. He was too big, but I didn’t care. I wanted all of him. Every inch, vein, curve. God, I wanted to devour him and to be devoured.

“Yes,” I hissed. My nipples brushed against his chest. “Oh God, yes.”

He drew himself out, then pounded into my pussy again, no hesitation this time. “Chanel, you’re so wet. You’re so tight.”

“Again.” I was insistent. I wasn’t in control of this moment and I didn’t care. I grasped both of my breasts and massaged, growling. I’d transformed into an animal for him.

He thrust into me again, to the hilt, and we both cried out. He pulsed inside me, but didn’t explode, quite yet. “Turn around,” he said, and pulled out.

My pussy begged for more. I followed his command and lay on my front, elbows tucked beneath me.

He brushed my hair from the back of my neck, then bit the skin, hard.

“Oh God,” I cried.

Ryan forced himself inside me again, and slapped my ass, once. This was the dirtiest it’d ever been for me, and I loved it. I loved every second of him filling me.

I gripped the sheets and looked over my shoulder at him. Caught sight of his abdomen muscles rippling with every thrust. My eyes rolled back in my head.

He grabbed my hip and lifted me off the bed, then reached around, fingers searching. He found my clit and circled it, matching the pace with his motion.

I bit my bottom lip hard enough to draw blood. “Oh yeah.”

“That good?”

“So good I want to come,” I whispered, between huffed breaths.

“Hmm, I want you to come,” he said. “I want you to come for me.” He increased the pace, softened his touch on that raw nerve-ending, driving me to the brink. “Come for me, Chanel.”

I jerked against him, shaking beneath the building pressure. I shut my eyes and a whimper escaped me.

“Come. For. Me.”

“Ryan,” I cried out, and crested the brink. Electricity shot through me, the combination of his dick filling me, stroking me, and the jolts of pure pleasure from my clit was too much. My mind blanked out. There was nothing but the moment.

I crashed over the edge. My folds clenched around him, massaging his cock, pleading wordlessly for his juices.

“Fuck, I can feel it,” he said, and his throat closed around the last word.

He hardened inside me. Grew even more, if that was possible, then jammed into my pussy, one, two, three times. His dick throbbed, and he emptied himself into me in five fantastic squirts, each matching the last throes of my own orgasm.

His fingers dug into my hips. A feral cry born from pleasure.

Finally, he collapsed beside me, eyes shut, breathing hard. “Fuck,” he said, and palmed his forehead. “Holy fuck.” Ryan dragged me closer, positioned me on his chest, and then encircled me in his arms.

“Amazing,” I whispered.

But he was already gone, carried away on a tide of sleep and satisfaction. I fell asleep to the beating of his heart.

Chapter 6

Ryan

I woke to sunlight streaming through the window, warm, with my arms around Chanel. A headache thumped between my eyes, but it had nothing to do with the beers from last night and everything to do with how bad I'd just fucked up.

I'd slept late for the first time in fucking history, and I'd slept with a local after a night out at a bar. Soldiers were allowed their personal lives but this pushed the limit for me. I didn't need more complications. I didn't need feelings, not the ones that brewed beneath the surface, or attachments.

The last time I'd taken responsibility for folks, the last time I'd cared, I lost everything. Already, I cared about her. God damn it, I didn't want to, but I did.

Chanel moaned and huffed out a sigh in her sleep. She rolled off my arm and I missed the skin-to-skin contact immediately.

"Shit," I muttered, and sat up. The sheets fell to my waist and cold air assaulted me. Double shit. It appeared the storm had passed, but it'd left behind the icy weather. I'd likely be able to get out of here and back up to the base, now.

Chanel slept on behind me and I admired her shape beneath the covers. Curvy but slim. She'd mesmerized me, last night. She drove me to distraction with her needs and the sly looks she cast over her shoulder.

A knock rattled the door, and I hopped out of bed. I grabbed my jeans, tugged them on, then hurried to the entrance.

I opened up and met Jack's shit-eating grin. "Mornin', Lieutenant. It's about time we get back to the base, isn't it?" He craned his neck and tried to catch a glimpse of the bed.

I blocked his view with the door. "What time is it?"

"It's 7 am, Sir. Late night?" Whitmore straightened the lapels of his uniform and I silently hated him for it. He'd rub this tardiness in my face for an eternity, and call it gentle hazing if I dared put him in his place.

"Go down to the truck, Petty Officer," I said. "I'll meet you in thirty minutes."

"You sure that's enough time?" Jack winked.

I slammed the door shut in his face and slapped the bolt into place. My friend laughed in the hall. His footsteps faded off.

"You're leaving in a half hour?" Chanel's voice sounded from the bed.

I spun and my heart skipped a beat.

She sat upright, one hand on the sheet, her left breast exposed, perky, nipple erect, and her hair tousled from the pillow. Most of her makeup had worn off, and what remained didn't detract from her beauty.

She took my breath away. It was the most cliché way I could put it, but there it was. The woman rendered me speechless.

"Ryan?"

"Yeah, in thirty minutes," I said, and marched to my bag on top of the rickety dresser by the window. I looked at the Rocky Mountains, now capped with snow. Cars glided by in the street below, unhindered by the slick tar.

I opened my bag and took my neatly folded uniform out from within. I didn't have time for a shower - I'd have to get that done back at the base - so I stripped off my jeans and exchanged them for my pants.

"Just like that," Chanel muttered.

"What?" I zipped up and looked back at her.

She covered herself up entirely. "You're rushing out, just like that. So much for that whole 'first time' thing, right?"

"What do you mean?"

"Don't bullshit me. That's what I mean." Chanel squirmed off the mattress and walked to her dress, piled on the carpet in front of the bed. She dropped the sheet, then picked up the garment and pulled it over her head. Her arms stuck out the top for a second and she waggled them frantically.

"I'm not bullshitting you," I said. Her breasts bounced and I stared in spite of the situation. I couldn't help myself, God damn. She had the best tits I'd seen in my entire life.

Chanel tugged the fabric down, at last. "I might be nineteen years old, but I'm not an idiot. You didn't have to tell me you wanted more just to get me to have sex with you. I wanted to do this."

"Uh -"

"God, I don't know why I wanted to. You were such an asshole yesterday. Then last night you were sweet as honey and so fucking delicious. And now, today, we're back to your dickhead behavior."

"Easy."

"That's what you think of me, now, isn't it? You think I'm easy," Chanel said, and stepped into her high heels. "Well, you know what? I don't care what you think. I had fun and that was all I wanted out of last night, and that's fine."

"Whoa, seriously, relax," I said. "That's not how I feel at all. I don't think you're easy."

She paused and narrowed her eyes at me. "You don't."

"No. I don't. I think you're - I just don't think that, okay? But I've got responsibilities. I've got soldiers under my command," I said. "I shouldn't have taken advantage of you."

"Taken advantage of me," Chanel said, and her voice deepened with anger. "Did you not just hear what I said? I wanted to do this. You didn't take advantage of me."

I finished dressing myself then faced her. Once again, her beauty almost floored me. The anger that went with it enhanced that fiery side of her personality - the part I'd seen in the store yesterday morning.

"I'd love to see you again. It just wouldn't be fair to you. I'm not in Meek Springs often."

"You were here yesterday," she replied.

"That was because of the base."

"The morale," Chanel said, and she raised an eyebrow. "Still think I can't help with that?"

"It's not a question of you not being able to help. I can't bring a civilian on base," I replied.

"So get permission. Get me a contractor's permit. I know you can do it." She placed her fists on her hips. The anger had died down, replaced by stubbornness that reminded me of myself. "If you do, we could see each other more often."

"That's not why I'd get you permission."

"I know that," Chanel replied. "But I'm good at what I do and I can help you." Her tone softened. "I can help you, Ryan. I know what I'm doing when it comes to interior design. It's all I've done for the longest time."

"The longest time?"

"Yeah," she said, and stroked her arms.

I brought my jacket, a regular leather one, out of my bag and handed it over. "Here."

She took it from me and our fingers brushed. "Thanks." She put it on and the jacket dwarfed her. It brought back images of her tiny waist beneath my hands. God damn, those thoughts would get me nowhere.

"What do you mean, you've done it for the longest time?"

"I mean exactly what I said. It's all I know how to do. That's my mother's store. I studied interior design from home as soon as I was old enough, and I took over running it day to day when she asked."

"Why can't she do it herself?"

Chanel shrugged. "It doesn't matter. This is all I know how to do. I know I can help you if you'll let me."

Was that all her life was? Meek Springs and nothing else? She was small town and I'd traveled all the way across the globe to desert sands and back again. We were polar opposites. How could I expect her to understand that the base was off limits?

Or was it? Sure, I could get a contractor's permit, but that usually took a lot of convincing, and it would take some serious lip service to get Commander Shepherd to approve a civilian woman on the base. Particularly, a decorator. I doubted I'd be persuasive enough to convince him.

"It's just not going to happen," I said. "There's no necessity for it."

"No necessity? This is the morale at a military installation we're talking about here," she replied, and folded her arms, still with that one eyebrow arched. "There's nothing more important than that. Did you know, that productivity increases with natural light?"

"Uh - what?" I reeled from the sudden topic change.

"Yeah. Fluorescents can decrease productivity and morale. That means your soldiers perform worse with more internal lighting. And colors like grays and browns aren't great either. Orange is conducive to creativity. Blue to peace of mind." Chanel paced back and forth. "All of these things can affect how your soldiers perform, how happy they are. Doesn't that matter to you?"

"Of course it matters to me. It's the reason I came to the darn store in the first place," I said. "I just wanted a couple things to spruce the place up a bit."

"A couple things." Chanel pinched the bridge of her nose. "One does not simply place a couple things in a base to spruce it up."

"My hands are tied," I said.

"No, they're not. Look, I have a portfolio you can take a look at. Shoot, you can even take it back to your base and, I dunno, scan and fax it through to your superior or whatever," she said. "All I'm asking for is a chance."

"Why?"

"Because this is what I do."

But there was more to it than that. Perhaps, her life in Meek Springs wasn't what she wanted it to be. Or maybe it had something to do with her mother - facts scratched at the surface but I couldn't crack through to them without prying. She'd likely clam up if I did, anyway.

"All right," I said. "All right. I'll take your portfolio back to base. I might be able to get you temporary clearance to check it out. Then you'd have to give me your suggested changes and designs to forward to my Commander for approval."

Chanel clapped once. "That's perfect. Fantastic. You won't regret it! I know I can improve your soldiers’ lives with this."

Her passion for what she did was infectious. I liked that about her. And her confidence in her professional abilities was even more attractive. "All right, that's settled then." I scooped up a shirt from the floor and folded it, then placed it neatly in the bag. I followed with the jeans and shoes I'd worn the night before. "I'll give you a ride over to your store and you can give me the portfolio."

"Perfect."

It didn't hurt that I'd get to see her again after this, either. I could pretend I wanted to distance myself from what'd happened, but it wasn't true. Chanel had already crept under my skin. The smells of her on the air, the taste of her on my tongue. I wouldn't forget last night in a hurry. Maybe, I didn't want to.

A knock sounded on the door. "Lieutenant?" Whitmore. Fuck it. "It's been thirty five minutes, Sir. Are you done in there?"

I slung the bag over my shoulder and trooped to the exit. One lock scrape and door creak, and I had Jack in my sights again. "Whitmore," I said. "Sorry for the delay."

"Oh," Jack said, and caught sight of Chanel in her dress and my jacket. "No problem, Sir. I totally understand."

"Understand what?" Chanel asked. "That we had a discussion? Good, I'm glad you understand." She marched to the door and stared down the Petty Officer. "I'm riding shotgun, by the way."

Jack's jaw dropped. "I - uh, yes, ma'am."

"Move?"

He backpedaled and Chanel swept past him and out into the hall. Apparently, she didn't play games. Another thing I could add to the list of 'Chanel's great qualities.'

I chuckled and patted Whitmore on the shoulder. "Looks like we've got our decorator," I said, then followed the scent of her perfume out into the sunlight.

Chapter 7

Chanel

I'd left my cellphone at Paula's place before we headed out to the bar, and I didn't want to think of the number of missed calls and angry messages I'd find on it when I eventually got it back. That wasn't my problem now, though.

Now, I had to walk home from where Ryan and the other officer dropped me off at Scott's Designs, wearing his jacket. My mom would flip her shit the minute she saw me.

Still, nothing could dampen my excitement today. If I got the contract for the base up in the mountains, I'd be out of my mother's path for months at least. Away from Meek Springs and the small-town mentality and the blind hatred for anything out of the ordinary.

God, I couldn't wait.

And there wasn't a chance my mother would say 'no' to that type of contract. It would bring in loads of revenue, and if there was anything she respected, it was the Navy, all thanks to dad, of course.

I still struggled to fathom out what he'd seen in her.

I traipsed down the sidewalk, heels clopping on the concrete, and held the jacket tight to my body. Icy wind pricked at my cheeks and numbed them, but it didn't touch the warmth building in my heart.

Flashes of last night, of Ryan's teeth on the back of my neck, his dick deep inside me, made me tremble all over again. It'd been perfect, more than I ever expected to experience with a man, but it couldn't possibly last.

He was a soldier, and I was a decorator trapped in Meek Springs with my overprotective mother. I didn't have prospects or a means of getting out of the town. If I ran away, I'd have nowhere to live, and with my mother as the only reference on my resume, I couldn't exactly call up another store and ask for a job.

The happiness abated. Life would return to normal soon enough. Perhaps, Ryan wouldn't get the permission he needed for me to go to the base. My shoulders sagged under the weight of that certainty.

"Chanel!" A man called out.

He was back, already. I spun on my heel and teetered - shoot, I'd forgotten I was in these darn stilettos - and a fresh wave of disappointment crashed into me. No, it wasn't Ryan. It was Timothy.

The most eligible bachelor in Meek Springs jogged over, his coiffed blond hair untouched by the breeze. "There you are," he said, and gave me his cheesy smile. The same one all the other chicks in this town fell over themselves for.

"Where else would I have been?" I asked, and hugged Ryan's coat tighter. I inhaled his scent and it brought comfort.

"Oh, right, ha," Timothy said. "Well, I stopped by the store and you weren't there, so I was kinda worried. I figured you might close after the big storm, but I wasn't sure."

"Yeah," I said. I couldn't confirm whether we'd be closing or not, since I hadn't spoken to my mother yet. God, she'd likely called in the cops by now. Missing daughter gone rogue. No doubt, she'd called Paula first thing and forced the truth out of her.

I trusted my friend to have my back, but my mother was a force to be reckoned with. If she wanted information, she got it, and that was that.

I didn't even have a story prepared for where I'd been. Mom would disown me if she figured I'd been out all night with a soldier.

"Uh, Chanel?"

"Yeah," I said, and focused on Timothy again. "Sorry, I'm kind of distracted. A lot on my mind."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah."

"I heard you were at the Springs Bar 'n Grill last night. Wish I could've made it," he said, and searched my face. Had he heard I left with a soldier? Oh God, if that rumor had already started, my mother would've been first in line to hear it.

"Yeah, it was okay. A little cold with the weather and all. How are you, Tim?" I asked.

He scratched the back of his neck. He hated being called 'Tim.' Had since High School. "I'm good. Things are looking good for me. Still working with my father down at the factory, but yeah, pay's good so -"

"That's great," I said, and side-stepped him. I continued my walk toward my house, the inevitable draw of doom approaching, and he fell into step beside me. "I'm glad you're happy." This was the same Tim who hadn't said a single word to me in high school.

I hadn't been one of the popular girls and I certainly hadn't developed until we were seniors. By then, he had a longterm girlfriend who would've clawed his eyes out if he so much as glanced in my direction. The same girl who left Meek Springs right outta high school and cheated on him multiple times, according to the rumor mill.

"What about you, Chanel? How are you doing?"

"I'm fine," I said. "I'm great." Lies, all lies, but it didn't matter. Tim and I weren't exactly best friends.

"That's good. So, listen, I was wondering if you'd like to catch a movie with me some time," he said. "Thought it might be fun to hang out. You know, like in high school?"

"When did we ever hang out in high school?" I asked, and turned the corner. A handful of houses separated me from my mother's wrath. Already, nerves bubbled and I pressed both hands to my stomach.

"You know what I mean.  Remember the one time we all caught a movie as a group?"

"That was on a school trip," I said. "In fact, I don't remember a single time you and I hung out in high school."

"Right." He scratched the back of his neck again, then progressed to his blocky jaw. "Well, it'd be great if we could -"

"Chanel!" My mother's voice sliced through our conversation. God, it was enough to turn me to stone. I froze on the spot and looked up at her, standing on our front porch, hands on her hips. "Chanel, you get up here this instant."

Her gray hair was fastened in a bun atop her head. Militant, tight, not a strand escaping. She'd aged well, but her hair had grayed abnormally early. A part of me wanted to believe it was the reason she despised me, so much. I'd retained youth and she hadn't.

It had to have been hard for her. Back in the day, she'd been a model, that was, until I'd gone ahead and ruined her body. Her words, not mine.

"Hi, mom," I said.

"Get up here!"

"I'll - uh, I'll see you later, Chanel," Timothy said, and backtracked.

What? No, knight in shining armor act from the high school super star? Shocking. I took the stairs one at a time, feet aching in the stilettos. I'd never wear a pair of these again, no matter how much Paula insisted they were 'just the best thing since fried steak.'

Mom latched onto my elbow and partially dragged me up the stairs. "Where have you been? I've been calling you for hours and your friend isn't answering her phone."

I silently blessed Paula for her wisdom.

"Sorry," I said, "I overslept."

"Why are you dressed like that? Whose jacket is that?" She snapped.

Oh God, oh God, too many questions. Why couldn't I have a normal fucking life? "We went to the bar," I said. Honesty wasn't the best policy with mother, but I might be able to take a lesser charge to get out of the worse one.

She'd be furious at me for disobeying her 'order' but she'd flip her fucking shit if she found out I spent the night with Ryan.

"You what?"

"Yes, mom, I went to the bar. We drank, we danced, we had a great time and then we went home. I overslept. I panicked when I woke up and saw the time and I ran out of there before I even grabbed my cellphone, okay?"

She quivered. "Young lady -"

"I'm not sixteen, mother. You can't control every facet of my life. If I want to go out with my friend, I'm well within my rights." Especially, since the bar in town was pretty lax when it came to serving folks under the drinking age. Not that I'd had much to drink. Or anything for that matter.

"You're living under my roof. You know what that means." She grabbed the lapel of Ryan's jacket and fisted it. "Whose is this?"

"Timothy's," I lied. "He saw me walking home in the cold and took pity on me. He figured I'd need it."

"I don't believe you," mom said.

Anger replaced fear. "I don't care what you believe anymore. I'm so sick of living like this. I'm sick of living with you."

She stepped back as if I'd slapped her, and pressed her hand to her chest. "Pardon me?"

"You heard me. I'm tired of living like this. I feel trapped by you."

"You're ungrateful. I've given you everything you have," she said. Her indignation softened, slightly. "Chanel, I just want what's best for you. I want to protect you from everything bad out there. You remember what it was like to lose your father."

"Don't. Don't use that as an excuse." I moved past her and into the house. I needed a shower, and a cup of coffee, and God, I needed to be away from her after that. I had to get my cell from Paula, too.

"It's not an excuse. It nearly broke this family, losing him. I won't let that happen again. I can't lose my baby girl, too."

"I'm not a kid anymore," I said. "And the more you act like this, the less I want to be with you."

"You're different." She followed me into the kitchen, and leaned against the counter, arms folded across her apron. "What happened last night? Did you sleep with Timothy?"

"Jesus Christ!"

"Language!" She ran her thumbs under the straps of her apron, then sighed. "You need to be careful, Chanel. There are rumors spreading that you're doing things you shouldn't. With soldiers." This wasn't the full on offensive. This was what my mother did to break me down.

The minute I showed weakness she'd jump in with the attack.

"Bullshit," I said. "And I don't care what rumors there are." I put a pot of coffee on, ignoring another wave of warmth. Just the mention of what'd happened last night with Ryan gave me strength. "But yeah, I did happen to run into a couple of soldiers last night."

"What?"

"Yeah, they were at the bar. In plain clothes, obviously, before you ask." That would matter to her. Soldiers drinking in uniform was grounds for dismissal. "And they had a few interesting things to say."

My mother sighed again. "You're asking for trouble. I didn't give you all the leeway I have -"

"Leeway!" I snorted a laugh. This stuff had built up for so long, I couldn't keep it in anymore. "Anyway, the Commanding Lieutenant up at the base needs help with morale. He's asked for my portfolio."

Mother's eyes widened and she stammered. "Up there? At that place? Where they're doing those experiments?"

"Don't be ridiculous, mom, they're not doing any experiments."

"You don't know that," she said. "It's unnatural, all those soldiers up there. No one knows what they're up to and the rumors -"

"Screw the rumors!" I flapped my hands at her. "Screw what anyone in Meek Springs thinks. This is a huge opportunity for Scott's Designs. You should be happy about it. Unless, there's a reason you don't want me to go up there?"

"I prefer having you here. Where I can see you."

The exact opposite of what I preferred. I poured myself a cup of coffee and didn't offer her one. The first time I'd done that in my entire life. I drank deeply, then clapped the mug down in the sink. "I hope the Lieutenant comes back to me and says I can do it. Actually, I pray that he does. I can't stand another day in this town."

"What's gotten into you?" Mom asked, and her eyes actually filled with tears. "Don't you care about what I want, anymore?" Cue the guilt trip.

I didn't have an answer for her. I turned my back and walked off, head held high at last.

Chapter 8

Ryan

I sat at my desk and re-read the email that had just come through. Commander Shepherd wasn't big on fax machines, thank God. When he could, he used the net, and I appreciated the hell outta that. Nothing frustrated me more than waiting for a response.

The email had come through from a secretary. A scheduled call in five minutes. I brushed my hands across the top of the desk, then interlaced my fingers and rested them front and center on my desk pad.

Commander Shepherd was one man who intimidated me. He was my superior for a reason. He'd led more men than any other Commander I was aware of. He was a legend, a myth, and strict enough to make my asshole clench in fear.

The phone rang and I exhaled. "Calm," I said. This wasn't a big deal. It was a request to improve the lives of my soldiers. He would understand that.

I picked up the receiver and pressed it to my ear. "Lieutenant Baker."

"Lieutenant," Shepherd said. His voice was gritty chalk crushed into concrete. The legacy of too many celebratory cigars. Successful missions. "What's this about decorations?" The word sounded absurd coming from his mouth.

"Sir, I've requested permission for a temporary contractor's permit to have an interior designer assess the base."

"Yes, I'm aware of that, Baker. You requested the permission from my office. Care to explain why you need a decorator out there, in the Rocky Mountains?"

"Sir, I've noticed that the morale around here has dropped," I said, and grimaced at the phrasing.

"Whose fault is that?"

"I'm doing everything I can to stay on top of things out here, but the men and women under my command are isolated from their families, from their homes. The weather conditions are less than admirable and the combination of all of this is taking its toll."

Silence apart from Shepherd’s gravelly breaths.

"I want this base functioning at optimum capacity."

"Baker, you and I both know that's not what it's about," he said. "You can't cling to the legacy of Mission Hubert for the rest of your military career." He was a straight shooter, I'd give him that.

Sensitivity was at all-time lows, however. Mission Hubert - the reason my troops had died. "This is not about that, Sir. I believe that the sensitive material we're working with, and the training these men and women have to undergo up here is taxing enough as it is without being surrounded by the bland aesthetic of the base."

"Did you just say bland aesthetic?" Shepherd actually laughed - it sounded like rocks on a cheese grater. "Never mind. I took a look at this portfolio you sent along. The woman in question, this Chanel Scott, is she reliable?"

"Yes, Sir. She's the only contractor I have access to in Meek Springs," I replied. "May I say, Sir, that this may go a long way to improving the relations between soldiers and the townsfolk? If we let one of theirs in, the rumors may abate."

"Town rumors are the least of my concern, Lieutenant." Shepherd paused, cleared the pebbles from his throat. "But I agree with your sentiment on the morale. Happy, healthy soldiers are what we need for this operation."

"I have temporary approval, then, Sir?"

"Yes. I'll have my secretary fax through official documentation. You can bring this woman out to take a look at the base. Once she's assessed the situation, I want an exact report of what she plans to do, when and how, and how long it will take."

Then it would only be a matter of approval on his side. The thought of Chanel out here had me hot under the collar, but that wasn't the reason I wanted this to happen. This would be hugely beneficial for my soldiers, and for my military career. Anything I could do to atone for what'd happened.

Not that it'd ever be enough.

"Thank you, Commander Shepherd. I'll do my best to ensure the process proceeds without a hitch."

"Best that you do, Lieutenant. Best that you do. I'll be in touch." Commander Shepherd hung up and I let out a breath I hadn't realized was in my damn lungs.

Holy shit, the man made my balls curl right back up inside my body. But, this was good news. Chanel would have a chance to prove herself, and to get away from Meek Springs. I had a hunch that was the real reason she wanted to come up here in the first place.

I lifted the phone to call her, then rolled my eyes. I didn't have her damn number. I'd been balls deep inside her, made her come and scream, yet I hadn't asked for a number. What a guy.

A knock at my door and I put the received back in its cradle. "Come in."

Jack Whitmore opened the office door and entered, expression a far cry from the one he bore this morning in the motel. Perhaps, he'd had a little too much to drink after I left the bar last night.

"Jack," I said. I had an open door policy with most of the officers directly below me.

"Lieutenant," he replied, and saluted. It felt mocking, somehow. He didn't meet my eye. "How are you this afternoon, Sir?"

"I'm well, thank you. How are you, Petty Officer Whitmore?"

"I've been better. Mind if I shut the door?" Shutting the door meant he'd drop the formal act, so hell yeah, he could shut the damn door. We were humans, not soldier robots, for fuck's sake.

"Go ahead."

Whitmore shut it, then moved to the chair in front of my desk. He tugged it back, and it scraped along the linoleum with an ear-splitting squeak. He sat down, didn't say a word.

"Jack?"

"I couldn't help overhearing your conversation on the phone," he said. "I was about to knock before it started. I - uh, yeah."

That was a vast invasion of privacy, but Jack's expression said there was more to it than that. "What's on your mind?"

"I also saw Colleen sending a fax earlier."

"Okay."

"You're going to bring that chick up here. The one you banged."

My brow wrinkled up. "That's inappropriate."

"Exactly."

"No, I mean what you just said is inappropriate. And what you're implying."

Jack folded his arms, biceps straining at his uniform. He would've been a threat to another man. That shit didn't bother me. My friendship with this asshole had started after a fight in training. We almost got kicked out of the SEALs for it.

I'd whooped his ass. Pity, I couldn't do it again. Oh, how the times had changed.

"You've lost touch," Jack said. "I was right about you. I mean, I heard whispers around the base that you'd gone soft, but you seemed fine to me. Hard as fucking nails, right? But now this. How am I supposed to take this, Ryan?"

"You're not supposed to take anything, anyway, because it's above your fucking pay grade, you whelp."

"That's how it is?" Jack shook his head. 'Man, you've got pussy on the brain. You really think this little bitch is going to come up here and transform the base into fucking Graceland? You'll be the laughing stock when this falls through. I wouldn't be surprised if you got a dishonorable discharge."

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" I asked, because he'd brought my blood to a boil.

"This isn't about me. I'm trying to warn you before shit goes south, understand?" Jack squeaked forward in that chair, mock concern painting his features into a picture of 'lie.' "You bring that woman up here and the others are going to start talking. You say you're worried about morale? Watch what happens when this little ho appears."

"Call her that one more time," I said, and raised my finger. "And I'll have you transferred from this fucking base."

'You don't have the balls or the power." Jack hesitated, swallowed. His Adam's apple bobbed up and down again. "I'm not trying to fuck with you, bro. I'm warning you. That's all. This doesn't look good."

I didn't care how it looked to him. And I didn't believe for a second that he was really concerned about me. We'd been friends, sure, but he'd always had a competitive streak which bordered on self-destructive. It had to eat at him that I was higher rank. That I had a purple heart I didn't even want.

"This is your last chance, Ryan. You realize that, right?" Jack thumbed the underside of his nose. "You mess this up and you're out on your ass. You already killed your men once, they won't take kindly to it if you cause a mass exodus of soldiers from this base."

And just like that he'd crossed the damn line. "Get out," I said. "You're dismissed."

Quiet, and then Jack threw up his arms. "Fine," he said. "Fine. But don't say I didn't warn you. Don't say that I don't look out for you when shit goes down. And it will. It will go down."

"Is that a threat, Whitmore?" What a fucking cock. How had I tolerated this sleaze bag all these years? Thank God, he hadn't been deployed to Iraq with me. I would've cracked under pressure and throttled him.

Jack got up and moved to the exit. "Good afternoon, Sir," he said, dripping acid. He let himself out into the hall and slammed the door shut behind himself.

"Fucking asshole," I muttered. Insubordination at its finest, but Jack thought he could take chances with me because of our old friendship. Perhaps, I'd been too lenient with him. Perhaps, it was time to put him in his place. Stick him in the mess hall kitchens cleaning up after the chef.

I massaged my temples and considered his 'warning.' Did it have any weight? Yes, Chanel and I had slept together, and yes, I was drawn to her, but that wasn't what this was about. She was the only one in Meek Springs who could fix the gray and steel nightmare around here.

I picked up the phone again and called Information Services.

"Yeah, I'd like the number for Scott's Interiors?" I copied it down, then hung up and stared at the digits for a while. If I made this call, there was no turning back.

Chanel would come out here, and I didn't doubt she'd succeed in creating a design that would impress Shepherd. She oozed confidence while speaking about what she did for a living. And her out here, damn, that would be a challenge for me.

I didn't want emotional involvement with anyone, and fraternizing with her would be out of bounds. Could I handle the tension if she ended up on base for an extended period of time? This wasn't a one-night stand - I'd never been big on those - and she wasn't a regular woman.

"Do the right thing," I muttered. That was the mantra I lived by. It was the same one that'd failed me in Iraq. Rather, I failed it.

The right thing. I picked up the receiver again, and dialed her number.

Chapter 9

Chanel

"You don't need to wait out on the porch," my mother said. "If he's a soldier he'll know to come in and greet me before you leave. You're acting like you're going away for a month, not an afternoon"

I held my leather case in both hands in front of my body and stayed put. "It's not a meet and greet, mom. I've got work to do. The sooner I get out to the base to assess the place, the better." This was the first discussion we'd had since I told her about Ryan's decision to bring me out there.

Our mother-daughter relationship had taken a serious knock. She'd called Paula to double check with her about my 'story' as she called it, and thankfully, Paula backed me up - I'd gone back to her house that afternoon to collect my cell and filled her in.

"I don't like this, Chanel. You don't know that this Baker character is on the level. What if he wants to kidnap you?"

I'd let him. "He's a Navy SEAL, mother. It doesn’t get more on the level than that."

My mother harrumphed but finally settled down. She couldn't argue with that fact. She loved my dad, God knew what he'd seen in her apart from her looks, and she'd remain faithful to him until the day she died.

A military truck turned the corner and roared up the road. Curtains shifted in the house opposite ours. Nosy Miss Kerrington out for the next big gossip scoop. Mom's cheeks colored at the sight of the vehicle.

It parked in front of the house and Ryan got out of the driver's side. I worked to keep a straight face at the sight of him, but heat pooled between my legs, right away.

His walk, the somber expression on his face. God, it drove me crazy. He didn't have swagger. He wasn't cheap. He was in constant control, like a restrained lion. But the lion wasn't a brute, it was noble, dangerous - oh God, what was I even thinking?

Ryan halted at the bottom of the stairs. "Good morning, ma'am," he said, "are you Mrs. Scott."

"That's correct," mom said. "And you are?"

"Lieutenant Commander Baker, ma'am. It's a pleasure to meet you. I've come to collect Miss Scott," he said.

This felt weird - like a hand-off between my mother and the man who made me moan. I shuddered. "It's nice to see you again, Lieutenant Commander. Shall we?"

"After you, ma'am," he said, then gestured to the vehicle. "Mrs. Scott." He nodded once, then followed me down the paving stones to the Jeep.

"Smooth," I whispered, once we were far enough away that she couldn't hear us.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," he replied, but the corners of his lips twitched. He had to know how impressive he was, rocking up at my front door in the army vehicle and full uniform.

I had a pretty good read on my mother, and she was impressed despite her best efforts to pretend otherwise.

Ryan opened the passenger side door for me and helped me into the cab. He shut it again, then circled around and clambered in himself. He started up the engine and curtains all up and down the road twitched. Everyone in Meek Springs would know about this before the hour was out.

I could almost hear the phones ringing already.

"Have you got everything you need?" Ryan asked. "Do you need me to stop at the store on our way out?"

"No, I've got everything," I said, and patted my suitcase. "Thanks."

He drove off and I spared my mother a quick wave, more to placate her than anything else. She didn't return the greeting, but remained there, resolute, her hands tucked into the front pocket of her apron.

We streaked through the town, Baker's hands sure on the wheel as they had been on my body. I bit my lip and crossed my legs, focused on keeping this about the job, not what was in his pants.

I'd never had this reaction to anyone before. I wasn't hard up for attention, and my existence certainly didn't revolve around sex. I'd always been more set on studies or work or the future. Or the prospect for adventure.

Maybe, that was what made Ryan so attractive to me. He was adventure made flesh. Oh, yeah, and he was damn fine.

"Are you all right? Going too fast for you?"

"I'm good," I said, as he put on his indicator and glided onto the road that led out of town and to the infamous base. "It's nice to see you again."

He broke into a full smile, then. "It's nice to see you too," he said. "Real nice."

I let my hand wander across the space between us, and laid it on his upper thigh, not too close to the 'goods.' It was meant to be a warm gesture. A show of affection, but it fell flat. His hands slipped on the wheel, he swerved and I sucked in a gasp and withdrew.

"Sorry," I said.

"No need to apologize," he replied, briskly. “It would probably be better if we didn't, uh, you - uh."

"Yeah, I know what you mean." It would be better if we didn't fraternize in public. His men would lose respect for him, and I certainly didn't want anyone thinking I'd gained this position by sleeping with the proverbial boss.

I hadn't. Though, it might've helped a little. I fanned myself and looked out at the approaching mountains, solid, stark, yet picturesque.

My mom had chosen this place after dad passed because it was what they planned initially. He was set to retire and live life with his little family, in a little house in the middle of an even smaller town.

Except that didn’t happened. My dad's paradise had become my prison.

"Once we're there, I'll introduce you to a few of my commanding officers and they can help you pinpoint the problem areas on base," Ryan said. "We'll rendezvous in my office after you've completed your initial scan of the facilities."

"All right."

"How long will it take you to come up with proposed design plans? The sooner I have them, the sooner I can get them approved by my Commander."

"It depends on what I'm working with. I'll need the night, most likely," I said. Shoot, even the word 'night' had weird connotations for me, now.

"That's all?"

"As I said, it depends on how big of a problem we're looking at here."

"Substantial."

We fell into another uneasy silence and I used it to consider the project instead of the tension building between us. I had a job to perform, or I'd let Ryan down and that was the last thing I wanted to do.

I had my selfish escape motivation going on, but that didn't mean I'd do a crappy job at making that base pleasing on the eye. I cared about this. Given half the chance, I'd take my experience and set up shop outside of Meek Springs.

I'd probably never have that chance.

Ryan stopped in front of a beam and a sentry house. A soldier ran out to greet us, clipboard tucked under one arm. He halted beside the window and Ryan rolled it down. "Morning, private."

"Morning, Lieutenant Commander," the soldier replied, and saluted. He handed over the clipboard. "I'll need your passenger to sign in, as well, Sir."

"No problem," I said, and did I was told.

A half hour drive up the side of the mountain and we crested a plateau that held a compact base. It wasn't tiny, but it certainly wasn't like the ones I'd seen when my father was in the SEALs.

It took us two more check-ins with security before we parked in a designated spot. Ryan rushed around to my side of the Jeep, then clunked the door open for me. He held out his hand.

I accepted it, tried and failed to ignore the rush, and got out of the vehicle beside him. The air was crisp up there, and much colder. I shivered and rubbed my arms, though I'd worn a relatively thick coat for this excursion.

"You need another jacket?" He asked.

"I'm fine," I said. "Lead the way."

We moved inside the facility and into a mass of linoleum and gray and blegh. It was just the worst aesthetic imaginable. It reminded me of a mixture between a morgue and a hospital. A hospital morgue? No, even they had a little color.

"Whoever decorated this place had to have been color blind," I said.

Ryan lead me down the hall, past a single wilting, potted plant, and into a conference room. Faces peered at me from around a long table - gray, as well, of course.

"Let me make the introductions," Ryan said. "Officers, this is Chanel Scott. She'll be working on sprucing up the base and helping us increase morale around here."

I recognized one face out of the bunch. Jack Whitmore. The same guy who'd given Ryan cheek back in the Meek Springs Motel. He didn't look all that happy to see me. The feeling was mutual.

"Chanel, this is Petty Officer Whitmore," he said, and pointed to Jack. "This is Officer Jameson." That was a young woman in uniform. She offered a gap-toothed smile. I instantly liked her - she had an open face, and less of an attitude than any of the others at the table.

"In the back is Petty Officer Hudson," Ryan said, and pointed to a young, handsome black man. Ryan rattled off a couple more names, but I lost most of them in the rush.

I'd grossly underestimated the amount of work it would take to get this place looking remotely pleasing on the eye. I'd have a rough idea by the end of the day, but actual plans would take much longer. I'd need broader access to the base. Time here to make sure things were laid out properly, and help. A lot of help putting things together.

Excitement and fear combined in my gut. This was a once in a lifetime project, and a great opportunity to get away from home.

“- necessary?" Jack asked.

I tuned back into the conversation. "Sorry, could you repeat that?"

Everyone stared me. Clearly, his question wasn’t directed at me.

"I was just pointing out that redecorating the entire base might not be necessary. We have bigger concerns than potted plants and flowers."

"Really?" I asked. "You don't say." I'd always had a sarcastic streak. My mother wasn’t able to lecture it out of me. "I struggle to believe that, actually."

Ryan stared at me as if I'd sprouted an extra head. Possibly, of the demon dog variety.

"Why's that, ma'am?" Officer Hudson asked, elbows planted on the table and one eyebrow raised.

"I fail to see how anything could be more important than morale at a military base. If your soldiers aren't happy, they won't concentrate. They won't train properly. They won't eat properly."

Ryan gave a nod. It was the same sentiment I'd used to convince him I belonged out here.

"Yeah, sure," Jack said. "But I don't see how flowers are the way to do that."

"The only person who mentioned flowers is you, Officer Whitmore," I said. "I'm beginning to believe you have an affinity for them. I'd be happy to order a bouquet of Azaleas for your office."

Laughter burst from the others at the table.

"It's Petty Officer Whitmore," he said. "First Class."

"My mistake." I touched a finger to the side of my nose. "Thank you for the introductions, Lieutenant Commander. I'll need an escort around the facility."

"I'll take you, Miss Scott," Officer Jameson said, and put up her hand.

Thank heavens for that. The last thing I needed was sour First Class prick Jack escorting me around the base.

"Excellent," Ryan said. "Rendezvous in my office in an hour. If you need anything else just holler, Miss Scott."

"Will do." I brushed past Ryan on the way out and for a second, it seemed he wanted to say something more. The moment passed quickly.

I had work to do.

Chapter 10

Ryan

I tried not to think about her the entire day, but she was on the base now, and thoughts about what’d happened between us were unavoidable. A heady mix of pleasure and guilt. Images of her body beneath mine, the scrape of her nails down my back, ruined by the thuds of shame in the pit of my stomach.

Had I taken advantage of her? Had I ruined everything?

Chanel couldn’t understand the amount of responsibility I had or the life I had to live. I was a traveler. I was a man under command. If Shepherd ordered me to abandon the base tomorrow, shit, within the next hour, I’d have to do it.

I’d leave her behind, even though thoughts of her would haunt me. I’d do whatever it took to find absolution in service to my country.

A knock at my office door brought me back down to earth. “Come in,” I said.

The knob turned and Chanel entered the room, a tiny frown wrinkling her brow. She fluffed her hair and the appetizing scent that was unequivocally her drifted toward me.

“Problem?”

“No,” she said. “Well, yes, I guess you could say that. But that’s not why I’m here. It’s the rendezvous time.” She tapped her watch and smiled at me. The frown didn’t disappear though.

“Everything okay?” I rose from my seat and walked around to her side of the desk. I perched on it and folded my arms. “Did anyone give you trouble?”

“No, they were all helpful and polite,” she said. “That’s not it. It’s just that – this is a lot more work than I anticipated.”

“If you want out, feel free,” I replied.

“No, I don’t want out. I’m not a quitter.” She tossed her head. “I just think I’ll need some help, and I’m going to need more than one day to evaluate and plan. I – uh, I also wasn’t allowed access to some of the areas.”

“Such as?”

“Oh, there was one door they wouldn’t let me through,” she said. “A gray, metal door.”

“That’s most likely the hangar,” he said. “Nothing you can really change in there. It’s just a huge room full of helicopters.”

“Helicopters.” Her eyes lit up.

“Yeah?”

“Sorry,” she said, and giggled. “I’ve always had an obsession with them. My dad was a hobbyist. He flew RC helicopters in his free time, and yeah, I loved watching him. I never got to ride in a real one.”

“You want to take a look?” I asked. I’d lost my damn mind. She didn’t have the clearance to check out these helicopters. She probably didn’t have the capability to redecorate an entire hangar, not in the short amount of time she’d undoubtedly be given by the Commander.

Chanel clutched her clipboard to her chest. “Are you serious?”

“Sure, why not?”

“That would be, well, that’d be amazing, Ryan, thank you. I mean, Lieutenant Commander Baker.”

“Yeah, it’s probably best if you call me by my title here,” he said. “Not that I care either way.” I pushed off from the desk and strode to the door, then held it open for her. “After you, ma’am.”

She cleared her throat and brushed past me, eliciting a swarm of heat through my limbs. This close and barely touching, already thoughts streamed through my mind. Unclean, naughty. God, the things I’d do to her if I had the chance. I’d –

“This way,” I said, and cut myself off before I got a semi and made a damn fool out of myself.

We walked the path to the hangar in silence, her practical heels clicking on the tiles. Tension built between us with every step. We weren't exactly arm-in-arm, but I couldn't keep my thoughts straight or off her body, her touch, and everything in-between. We didn't pass many personnel on the way, either. Most everyone was in the mess hall or the gym at this time of the day.

"There's a lot of potential here," she said, and broke the silence.

My heart skipped a beat. "Potential?"

"Yeah. You know, with the base? It just seems like it's got loads of potential. I already have a color scheme in mind that I think will suit the place perfectly."

"That's great," I said, and swallowed. Shit, I thought she meant potential for us. What the fuck had gotten into me? I didn't need emotional attachments. The last time I'd attached to anyone, it was to the men under my command and they perished.

People died around me. That was my lot in life.

"Are you okay?" It was her turn to ask, and she touched my arm too.

I snapped it down to my side. "Fine. This is it," I said, and gestured to the steel door. Saved by the hangar and its helicopters.

I let us into the cavernous space, the ceiling yawning above us, and stepped back for her to brush past again. This time her ass swished past my crotch, and my cock twitched in response. Down boy.

“Oh wow,” she said, and hugged her clipboard to her breasts. “That’s gorgeous.”

She pointed to a helicopter, glistening in the dim light from a high up window that gave us a glimpse of the fading afternoon, the clouded sky.

“Yeah, that’s a –”

“Seahawk M-20,” she finished. “Yeah, I know. Like I said, my dad was an enthusiast.”

An enthusiast who loved military helicopters? I let it slide and shut the door instead. It didn’t plunge us into darkness, but I walked to the light switch anyway.

“Don’t,” she said.

I froze. “What?”

“Don’t turn it on.” She dropped the clipboard with a clatter, then fumbled with the buttons of her shirt.

“What are you doing?”

“I’ve been thinking about you all day, Ryan,” she said. “God, I must seem like such a slut but it’s just – you – you’re – the stuff you said. You talked about our first time. I thought maybe we could have a second time?” Her fingers stalled on her buttons.

She was adorable, caught halfway between rejection and arousal.

“I want you again,” I said, and betrayed myself, my determination not to become emotionally involved again, and my entire country. That was what it felt like. It felt like a betrayal I couldn’t resist. I was drawn to her. I was attached even though I didn’t want to be. “But this probably isn’t the best place.”

“It’s better than your quarters. People would suspect something if they saw us in there, but here…”

I saw her point. And I couldn’t deny my attraction for her, or the thickening dick in my pants. Just the mention of it from her lips, the need radiating from her expression. I walked toward her.

She was stuck in place, unmoving, staring at me with her mouth half-open, caught on the verge of what? A moan? God, I fucking hoped so.

“Come with me,” I said, and grasped her hand, pulling it from her buttons.

I walked her to the helicopter, opened the side door, and we clambered inside. I slammed it shut behind us and we were embraced by gloom, and the sounds of our breathing echoed in the small space.

Chanel looked around. “I’ve always wanted to get in one of these,” she said.

“Uh huh.” My fingers slipped over her buttons. If I spoke, I’d have to think, and then the rational part of my brain would stop this from happening. I didn’t want that. I needed her like I needed air.

She was a craving and it was wrong on every level. I couldn’t come to my senses now. This proved everything Whitmore had said.

Chanel kissed my cheek, soft lips brushed across my skin, and then stubble. She let out a tiny moan.

I sped up. Opened the shirt and exposed her lacy bra, then moved my hands around to the zip on the back of her pencil skirt.

“No time,” she said, and tugged the fabric upward, over her thighs. A triangle of soft fabric, lace, see-through, peeked at me from between her legs.

I undid my belt buckle, popped my top button open and unzipped, then drew my dick out from the folds.

Chanel whimpered, licked her lips. “Hurry,” she said. “I need you.”

I grabbed her hips and spun her on the spot, then rubbed myself against her supple flesh, dragging my dick between those two round ass cheeks. I throbbed for her. Fuck it, I dripped for her.

“Please,” she whispered. “Take me now, Ryan.” Chanel quivered against me.

I brushed my fingers down the sleeves of her blouse, then encircled her waist with my arms. Then I kissed her neck. Wet, soft, open-mouthed kisses, tasting her. A hint of perfume and that addictive smell that was oh-so Chanel. The scent of her naked skin. I nibbled, then bit down harder.

“Yes,” she gasped.

I would’ve made this moment last longer. I should’ve given her what she deserved. Full attention in somewhere that provided more privacy than this, but it would have to suffice, for now.

I lowered myself behind her, shifting her blouse upward and peppering her back with more of those hot kisses. I traced the line of her spine with my lips moving over the crest of one ass cheek and then the other.

I bent her forward.

Chanel almost lost her balance, but caught herself on the door. “What are you doing?”

I parted her cheeks, admired her already dripping wet pussy, then buried my face in it. I probed her with my tongue, collected her fluid and rolled it across her clitoris.

Chanel shuddered and railed against the pleasure. “Ryan –”

“Quiet,” I said, between licks and sucks. God, she tasted good. Clean and delicious. It was the essence of that Chanel scent and taste. I could do this forever. Lick her until she was weak at the knees.

“I – I –” Her legs wobbled.

I circled her clitoris with my tongue. Gentle motions, then a pause to draw it into my mouth.

“I’m going to explode,” she said.

“Good,” I replied. “I want you to come for me.” I wanted that more than I wanted to be inside her. Her pleasure, her loss of presence in this moment, would give me more than my own orgasm.

She stuck her ass out and gave me full access. “More,” she said.

I gave her clit a wet kiss, then inserted two fingers into her pussy.

She bucked against me and cried out.

“Not too loud.” I worked those fingers inside her, feeling for her g-spot, and licking her clit in between deep strokes.

“I need more than this,” she said.

“What?”

“I need your dick inside me. Now. Give it to me now.”

I rose and grabbed the base of my dick, teased her pussy lips with my swollen head.

“Now!” She slapped the door.

I placed my dick at her quivering entrance and braced myself. Slowly, I entered her. One inch at a time, drawing out the waves of pleasure that crashed over us both.

Chanel wasn’t interested in slow. She rammed backward, and took all of me, tightening as she did. “Oh yes. Oh God, yes.”

“You like that?”

“Uh-huh, I’m gonna come.” She worked herself on my dick, back and forth, using the helicopter’s door as leverage.

My balls tightened up, a burning sensation tickled inside me. “Me too.”

“Yes,” she hissed. “I want it all. I want all of you.”

The words drove me over the edge and into the oblivion we created together. I pounded into her, taking back the rhythm and using it for my own climax. I squirted inside her, just as her warmth closed around me.

We pulsed together, fluids mingling, and certainty hit me – this wasn’t the last time we’d do this. Not by far. I hung onto the scraps of myself, closed my eyes and dug my fingers into the flesh of her hips.

Pure pleasure – this was where I wanted to be. This was where I belonged.

Chapter 11

Chanel

I stifled a yawn behind my fist, and bumped along in the truck. Ryan didn’t look half as tired as I was, but then, he didn’t spend the entire morning and afternoon running around the base and making notes of what needed to be changed and how.

I wasn’t close to completing a potential design or mood board. I needed more time on the base and that meant collecting an overnight bag and a whole lot of disdain from my mother with it.

Ryan squeezed my thigh and I swallowed, hard. Flashes of our tryst in the helicopter cleared out my vision for a minute.

There was nothing but the full sense of him pounding inside me and the building pleasure. I shuddered.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“Fine,” I replied, over the rattle of wheels on the dirt road. “Just thinking about earlier. Ryan, I – I don’t know what’s going on.”

“What do you mean?” But he removed his hand from my thigh – he knew exactly what I meant. It was ‘us,’ this weird attraction we had going on, and it made him uncomfortable.

“Forget about it.”

“No, you can talk to me, Chanel. What’s on your mind?”

“Just the base and the decorations. That’s all.”

Silence drifted between us, and I focused on the dissipating clouds over the town. Meek Springs sat against the mountain, unassuming and adorned by quaint decorative lamp posts and old school stores with glass front windows and wooden doors.

To an outsider, the town would’ve seemed pleasant – the perfect mini-getaway during the summer months – but I’d lived the truth. Trap. It was all a trap.

Everything. And now, I had a job to do away from Meek Springs and the store, and that might end up a cage of its own.

I turned my head and looked out the passenger window.

We entered the town, and the first of those quiet, cute stores swept by. It was a Sunday. Folks were either getting ready for dinner or church, whichever came first or pleased them the most.

The storm had passed, but an icy wind pricked the coats of walkers at this time of the afternoon. There weren’t many people around.

“You’re sure it’s okay for me to stay over on the base?” I asked. “Like, it’s allowed?”

“Yeah, it’s covered by the temporary contractor’s permit. I’ll contact my Commander tomorrow and confirm the extended length of your initial stay.”

“My initial stay?”

“Well, yeah. You’ll have to present your plan, and afterward, once its approved, you’ll be on base to oversee the implementation of it.”

“How do you manage to make even interior decorating sound like a mission?”

Ryan shrugged. “That’s just who I am.”

I should’ve counted my blessings that he didn’t make sex into a tactical operation. Ugh, what was with the bitterness curling through me? It was as if I’d doomed the excitement of this new ‘relationship’ from the start.

“Here we are,” Ryan said, and turned the corner into my street.

All thoughts of ‘us’ and the crazy, hot helicopter sex we had flew right outta my head.

Home. I was home to pick up the bag and I didn’t want to imagine what my mother’s reaction would be.

Ryan parked in front of the house and cut off the engine. One of the curtains in the front window flickered. God, she’d already witnessed my arrival. I didn’t get out of the truck, but clenched my fists until my knuckles whitened.

“You okay?”

“Fine.”

“Do you want me to come inside with you?” he asked. He didn’t touch me, though. He kept his hands on the wheel, this time.

Had I ruined everything at the mere hint of talking about our dynamic?

“No. I think my mother would have a conniption if I let you into my bedroom.”

He cleared his throat. “Oh.”

“I – yeah, I’ll be right back. Just wait here.” I lingered a second longer, then opened the truck door and slipped out into the failing light. Purple dusk crept over the mountain and between the houses.

I shucked my puffy coat up my arms and buried my neck in the fabric. It still wasn’t warm enough. I bumped the truck’s door closed with my hip, then walked up the short path that led to the porch steps.

The house was eerily silent. The only sign of life the lights on upstairs in my mother’s bedroom, and the smell of a home cooked meal. My mouth watered – I hadn’t eaten all day in the rush to get things done, and my mom could cook, I’d give her that.

I traversed the stairs, crossed the yawning gap to the front, then turned the handle.

The door rattled against the jam.

“What the heck?” She locked me out? “Mom?” I rang the doorbell.

“Everything okay?” Ryan called from the truck.

I waved over my shoulder at him.

The latch on the front door snapped back, and my mother opened up and glared at me. “Where have you been?”

“Out partying,” I replied. “Mom, seriously? You know where I’ve been. I’ve been working all day. Why was the front door locked?”

“It’s late. I was protecting myself.”

“Mom, it’s 6 pm,” I replied. “And it’s Meek Springs.”

Henrietta Scott sniffed. “Well, you never know with all these strange soldiers around.” She stepped back and allowed me entry.

I walked past her and she slammed the door shut behind me, then drew the latch again. She hurried to the curtain, twitching it aside. “Why isn’t he leaving?”

“What?” I made for the stairs.

“Chanel, why isn’t that soldier leaving?”

“Because he’s waiting for me,” I said, and trooped up the stairs. I hit the landing, turned left and scurried toward my bedroom. God, she’d probably follow me up, spitting vim and vitriol once the shock wore off.

“He what?” she called, just as I reached my bedroom. “Why would he be waiting for you?”

I entered the room and closed the door behind me, then leaned against it, chest rising and falling too fast.

Why did she get to me this much? For the longest time, all I had was this bedroom with its teal wall paper and faded carpet. I’d long since stripped the posters from its wall, in the vain hope that it’d mature me enough to find an apartment anywhere but Meek Springs.

The only images were of Paula and myself, on the wall above my desk. Happy snaps from nights out at the restaurant, none of them with men, since I’d never been interested or met one who turned my soul to mush like Ryan did.

“Chanel Scott, why is that man waiting for you?” Her footsteps stomped on the stairs.

I pushed off from my door and went to my armoire instead. I opened the creaky doors, it was an antique from my grandmother, and grabbed my overnight bag from its spot atop my shoes.

“Chanel!” My mother opened the door without knocking.

I placed the bag on my bed, then retrieved an armful of clothes from the cupboard.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m packing a bag. There’s too much work to be done on the base. I have to stay over there for a while until I can put together a presentation on the project.” Formal tone. Clipped off sentences.

“Have you lost your mind?”

I shoveled the clothes into the bag, then picked up a few pairs of shoes. “No.”

“You were gone all day. Do you have any idea how much business we lost today because of this?”

“Business.” I snorted. “We didn’t lose any business. It’s a Sunday.”

“Oh yeah? I received a call from the Pachinko family today. They wanted us to review their home,” she replied. “It’s a huge project.”

“Mom, unless the Pachinkos have a house the size of a military base, I’m not interested,” I replied.

“You’re not the owner of this company, Chanel. I can fire you.”

I hugged the shoes to my chest and stared at her. Who was she? When I was little, too little to understand her control freak nature, I admired my mother. We looked similar, people used ‘you look just like her’ as a compliment.

Now, I couldn’t envision a person I wanted to be less like. “Fire me. If you fire me, I’ll leave this house and I’ll never come back. I’ll live on the streets before I stay here.” And it was true. It hit me like a brick in the gut. It was damn true, and it was a step closer to what I wanted.

A way out.

Mom’s mouth flapped open and closed – she didn’t expect that.

I shoved the shoes into the bag, then zipped it up. “I’ve got to go. I’ve got work to do.”

“Don’t you dare leave this house. What am I supposed to do about the Pachinkos?”

“Do the job yourself.”

“You’re the decorator. I’m the owner. You do the work,” she said, and folded her arms. She hadn’t taken off her apron after cooking the dinner I’d never eat.

“Do you realize how huge this is? This project could change everything for Scott’s Interiors. Who knows, maybe if I complete this one to satisfaction, I’ll be hired for another one. Can you imagine becoming a contractor for the Navy SEALS?”

“Ridiculous. That will never happen.”

“Why not?”

Mom tapped her heel on the carpet – thump, thump, thump. “Because you’re going to fail at this.”

I squeezed my eyes closed but it didn’t block her out.

“You’re good, child, but you’re not good enough to take on an entire military base. There are too many factors to take into account. And when you fail, you’ll bring down the business with you.”

“I won’t fail,” I said, and opened my eyes again. I stared at her. “I’m not a quitter.” I slung the bag’s strap over my shoulder, then made for the exit.

“Chanel, you can’t stay on a base filled with depraved men.”

“Depraved?” I stopped and looked back at her. “I don’t know who you are, but you’re not my mother. The woman I grew up with respected the military.”

“Until the military took everything from her,” she snapped. “Your father is gone and they’re responsible for it.”

“Dad made his own choices and he did so with bravery and integrity,” I replied. “I’m going to follow his example.” I trudged out of my bedroom and down the hall, ignoring the steely silence that chased me.

My mother would make me pay for this, somehow. Either she was actually concerned about losing business or this was another ploy to keep me under her wing, under that beady eye.

“I forbid you,” my mother yelled. “I forbid you to go.”

I unlatched the front door, and opened it. “I’ll be back sometime. No need to thank me or anything.”

“Chanel, don’t you dare get in that truck.” She’d already reached the landing, and she took the stairs two at a time, hair escaping from her bun.

“Have a good night.” I stepped onto the porch and shut the door behind me, then hurried down the front stairs and the garden path.

Night hadn’t quite fallen, but the lampposts up and down the street had already clicked on. No doubt, everyone in the neighborhood heard the fight, and now they’d witness me leaving.

The rumors which had likely started this afternoon would double. I’d be called a turncoat for working with the military, since Meek Springs and its residents held fast to the cracked concept that the soldiers performed nasty experiments in the mountains.

My mother didn’t come out after me. She had the dignity not to, or the pride, rather – making a scene in front of others went against the grain for her.

I marched toward the truck, heart heavy, and the overnight bag slapping against my side.

Chapter 12

Ryan

Signs of movement caught my eye from the house across the road, the front lawn of the neighbor’s place next to the Scotts. Night had begun its descent, but the good folk of Meek Springs weren’t deterred.

They wanted Intel on why my truck was outside Chanel’s place at this hour. The nosy civilians would spread news of this visit tomorrow, and likely blow it out of proportion. Or fabricate a reason sinister enough to fit an action thriller movie.

The front door clapped shut and Chanel barreled down the path toward the vehicle. She tensed up the minute we turned the corner onto her street, but now, her entire body was rigid.

I reached over and opened the passenger door for her.

She grabbed the edge, wrenched it wide, then chucked in her bag and clambered inside. She huffed, and slammed the door.

“What happened?” I asked. It took all my restraint to keep anger out of my tone. I didn’t like the thought of her in trouble or hurt or upset.

“The usual.”

“Meaning?’

“My mother’s being a total bitch,” she said, then pinched the bridge of her nose. “Doesn’t want me to work on the base because I’m somehow losing her store business.”

“Her store?”

“Yeah.”

“I thought it was your store,” I replied. Man, how much did I know about this woman? Not enough to have slept with her twice and enjoyed every fucking minute of it.

“No, it’s hers. I’m just her employee.” Chanel’s jaw worked. “I don’t want to unload my burdens on you.”

“Talk if you need to talk. I’ll drive and you talk, and –”

A guy appeared at her window, blonde hair, tan despite the lack of summer sun. He raised his fist and rapped on the glass.

Chanel jumped and let out a yelp. She scooted away from the window, then spotted the dude and exhaled. “Timothy, you scared the crap out of me.” She rolled down the window and glared out at the kid.

Okay, he wasn’t a kid, he was Chanel’s age, but I couldn’t help thinking of him as one, even if the same rule didn’t apply to her. This Timothy dude hadn’t seen a day of hard labor. Probably moisturized every night.

He leaned on the door, and gave me a mock salute. I bristled instantly.

“Evening, Sir,” he said. “Mind if I interrupt the conversation?”

I didn’t return the greeting and the awkward atmosphere intensified.

“Uh, Timothy, we’re about to head out,” Chanel said. “Is there something I can help you with?”

Timothy’s gaze shifted from me to her, then back again. Oh yeah, the boy had his suspicions. “Nah, I just wanted to say hey.”

“You wanted to say hey. What are you even doing around here?” Chanel asked. “You live a block away.”

“Yeah, I wanted to check in on you. I heard that you weren’t home today. See, I came to see you, Chanel,” he said, and brushed his fingers through his ridiculous hairstyle. It stood upright like he’d been electrified.

“Oh,” she said. “Well, I’m busy with work stuff.”

“At night?”

I started the engine to cut off the conversation.

“Yeah, I’m working on a big project,” Chanel said.

“What kind of project? Something up at that base, right? You mentioned it, didn’t you? Is that why you were hanging out with soldiers the other night?”

“What? How did you –?”

“Oh come on, everyone knows about that. The whole town is talking. Everyone thinks you’ve got a boyfriend up at the base.” Timothy’s words took on a sharp edge.

“Enjoy your evening, Timothy.”

“Chanel, wait. When will you be back in town? You and I should hang out sometime,” he said, “you know, get to know each other a little better. Especially since you don’t have a soldier boyfriend, right?”

The jealousy beast roared in my chest, threatened to claw its way out into the open. I had to remain professional. I was a Navy SEAL first and always.

“I think we spoke about this before, Tim. No, thank you.” She made to roll up her window, but he stopped her by placing his palm over the slit.

“Come on, it could be fun. Surely, you won’t –”

“No means no, kid,” I grunted, then took off down the street.

He whipped his hand back just in time to avoid losing it.

Icy wind whipped through the open window, but didn’t cool my temper. I detested losers like that. Guys who pushed too far and too hard, who thought they were entitled to pussy whenever they wanted it.

“What was that about?” Chanel asked, and rolled up her window.

The cold air cut out. “We’ve got to get back to base before curfew. Rules are rules.”

“Right,” she said, and folded her arms.

“Also, that guy was a jackass. He didn’t take the hint and he interrupted our conversation.” I turned the corner and the anger slowly seeped from my skin. Shit, I couldn’t afford to get involved here. It couldn’t be too late.

“A jackass,” Chanel said. “I’ll have you know that Timothy is the most eligible bachelor in Meek Springs.”

“Oh yeah? He blow the dust off a couple pussies?”

Chanel choked and swallowed. “What?”

“Nothing, nothing,” I said.

She laughed – an awkward giggle which couldn’t have been cuter.

“So,” I said, because curiosity and dumbassery had dug talons into my skin, “did you go on a date with this most eligible bachelor and his hair?”

Chanel chuckled again. “No, never. I’m not interested in him or his hair. There’s something about him I just don’t like. Something I can’t place.”

I grunted but kept my opinion to myself. “Forget about him,” I said. “We were talking about your mother, right?”

Chanel sighed and looked out of the window. For a time, the only sounds were the wheels of the truck on the macadam and the occasional sniff or shift of gears. If she didn’t want to talk, I couldn’t force her.

No, I wouldn’t.

I respected what it was like to have something sitting beneath the skin. An emotion or memory controlling you from the inside out. The world saw your actions and movements, but it didn’t see the turmoil within.

The roiling mess of crap that had ruined everything. I was a different person before I lost control. I listened, shit, I even dated a woman or two.

“I don’t know why, but she doesn’t want me to have a life. I think it’s because she hates me. Or she hates what I’ve become.” Chanel’s words sliced right across my morose reflection.

“That doesn’t sound right,” I said.

“I don’t know what else to think. She’s been angry with me ever since –” She cut off and gulped. “Ever since dad died. I think she blames herself or him, and if she blames him she blames me.”

“Why?”

She flopped her hands into the air. “I don’t know, maybe because I remind her of him? Maybe because she thinks I’m reckless and she’ll lose me too?”

I nodded. “Maybe. But it’s not like you don’t have options, Chanel. You’ve got a marketable skill. If you really wanted to leave Meek Springs behind, you could.”

“I don’t know about that,” she said. “God, why am I unloading all of this on you? It’s not fair. Forget I mentioned it.”

“No, it’s okay. If you need to talk I want to be here for you.” And it was true. I wanted to hear her sob stories and pressures. I wanted to be a support for her.

“Why?”

I couldn’t answer that properly. Not without risking everything again. “It’s what friends do for each other,” I said.

The mood in the truck did a 360. Oh yeah, I’d fucked that up.

“Friends. Right.” She dragged her overnight bag over and dropped it into her lap, then folded her arms on top of it.

We spent the rest of the ride to the base in a silence so fucking absolute it settled in my soul. The term ‘friends’ had effectively iced all potential for conversation. It didn’t help that Chanel’s perfume intoxicated me, that I would have given anything to park the car and take her again, right on the side of the road.

Man, wouldn’t that be a perfect silence-breaker. Her screams filling the cab, her legs around my waist and my dick pounding into her, again and again. I’d last longer this time, we wouldn’t have to rush for fear of discovery. I’d make her come at least twice, then eat her out for as long as it took to get the third time.

And then, we’d fall asleep in each other’s arms, her head on my chest.

Yeah, it was better if she stayed pissed at me.

We parked at the base, and she didn’t give me the opportunity to open the door for her. She hopped out and walked for the entrance.

“Wait,” I called out. “Chanel, wait a second.”

She stopped, and tossed her hair. Those beautiful blues cut right through to my core. How could she be this beautiful, even when angry? “What?”

“You don’t know where your quarters are.”

“Oh.” She sagged. “Fine. Could you show me, please?”

“Yeah, follow me.” The base didn’t have guest quarters, but we weren’t at maximum capacity in the officer’s section. She’d be close to my room in case she needed something and didn’t know who else to ask.

I walked her past the mess hall, down the long gray corridors and into the officer’s section of the building. It didn’t look any different from the quarters those of the soldiers under my command, apart from a few extra potted plants.

“This is you,” I said, and halted in front of her room. The door was open, the single bed neatly made, overhead light on. A steel desk sat in the corner, a lamp atop it. That was the end of it. All the decoration.

“Thanks,” she said, and entered the room. She dumped her bag on the bed, and busied herself with its zip.

“I’ll have your suitcase and notes brought over from my office.” That was where she’d left them after our rendezvous in the helicopter. “Does that suit you?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Chanel?”

She faced me at last, her cheeks flushed. “Yeah?”

“If you need anything, anything at all, I’ll be right down the hall. You can eat in the officer’s mess hall with me, as well.”

“Thanks.”

I hesitated, caught on the brink of asking her again if everything was all right. A ridiculous idea. Of course, everything wasn’t all right. Calling her a friend had insulted her. She wanted more than friendship and I just couldn’t give it to her.

It would probably be for the best if we didn’t fuck a third time. My gaze tracked down the front of her blouse. “I-uh, thanks for trying to help the base and the men. I appreciate it.”

“No problem. Please close the door behind you. I’d like some privacy, now.”

“Sure,” I said, and backed off. I shut the door and stared at its plain front. “Shit,” I muttered. I shouldn’t care that she was furious with me, but I did.

I walked off down the hall and toward my room, burning to turn back again. To make her mine, over and over again.

It couldn’t be. We weren’t meant to be together, no matter how much I wanted it.

Chapter 13

Chanel

I shifted the portfolio in front of me, paging through the completed designs, the rooms, the swatches of fabric used in each. Most of them were too fancy or homely for the base, but there were hints of style in each that I could draw from and use.

I’d been allocated a small office in a quiet hall. The tiny window let in natural light and a view of the outside of the base, complete with chain link fences and a tank. An actual tank.

The atmosphere should’ve made me uncomfortable, but I felt right at home. This reminded me of my father – I couldn’t possibly be uncomfortable with him in my thoughts.

I turned another page and tapped the end of my pen on my notepad. I’d already chosen a light, yet pleasant color scheme. I understood why the base had to retain an air of neutrality, but gray was just… depressing.

“Blue,” I said. “Shades of blue for calm, touches of cream.” I noted that, then moved to my next book of samples – fabric. I could source all of this in the quantities I needed from a supplier out of town, especially since I had the backing of Ryan and the friggin’ Navy.

“But blue sofas?” I scratched the end of my nose with the pen. “No, not that. Cream wouldn’t work either.”

“Talking to yourself?” A man’s voice came from right in front of my desk.

I jerked my gaze upward. “Holy crap,” I half-yelled.

Jack Whitmore, the very same dick who’d given me trouble yesterday, grinned at me from the entrance. His hand rested on the doorknob. “Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.”

“Then maybe knock first?” I leaned on the portfolio, arms folded. “What can I help you with?” I didn’t want to help him with shit. He was friends with Ryan, from what I’d gathered, but I couldn’t fathom why.

The guy gave me every type of creepy crawly feeling imaginable. On the outside, he seemed handsome and valiant, and all those thing Navy SEALs should be, but I wasn’t fooled.

His core was rotten. I always trusted my gut, another piece of advice my father had given me growing up, and it hadn’t failed me yet.

“Help me,” Jack said, and grinned. “What makes you think I need your help?”

“Charming as always,” I replied, and tilted my head to the side.

“I’m just kidding,” he replied, and slapped the air. What a weird gesture. Dude had anger issues. “I wanted to have a serious talk with you about the base.”

“The base. What about it?”

“Mind if I sit down?” He shut the door, then grabbed hold of a chair and dragged it out from behind the desk. He plonked down before I could give him an answer, so apparently, we were doing this. Whatever this was.

“What about the base?” I repeated.

Jack thumbed his nose, then placed his palms together and rested the steeple on the edge of my desk. “Things are going to change around here, right?”

“Yes, that’s the idea,” I said, and gestured to the portfolios. “It’s what I’m working on, right now.”

“Right, and you’re sure you’re equipped to handle that change?”

“Huh?”

“I mean, it’s going to be a lot to take on.”

“I’ll have help,” I replied. Ryan promised there would be no end to the hands available. It was a base full of soldiers, after all. They were used to taking orders and keeping things neat.

“Ryan’s help.”

“Lieutenant Commander Baker has promised me help with the implementation of my designs and ideas, but I still have to create a presentation. We’re not quite at that stage yet,” I said, in my best professional lingo. What was this guy’s deal? What the hell did he want, anyway?

“Yeah, I’m sure he’ll give you all the help you need.”

The implication wasn’t lost on me. “Why are you really here, Petty Officer Whitmore?”

“Call me Jack.”

“I’d rather not. And I’d really rather have you come out and say what you want to say. I can sense there’s something on your mind.”

Jack laughed, then bit his bottom lip and winked at me.

My cringe alarm flew into overdrive. Red lights flashing. God, I’d need an allergy shot after this. Were my ears ringing? Had I traversed into another dimension? “Uh – wh-what do you want? I mean, what are you here for?”

“I think you know,” he said, and tapped the desk.

“Honestly, I don’t.” Other than to freak me the hell out.

“Oh come on, girl, don’t play dumb. You and I both know what happened between you and Ryan in that hotel room, and it wasn’t playing spin the fucking bottle. Get what I’m saying?”

“I don’t see how what you believe is relevant,” I snapped, then measured my tone. This guy was older than me, and he probably thought he was smarter too. If I showed anger or emotion, he’d capitalize on it.

Shit, having spent years with my passive aggressive mother might actually pay off for once.

“Touchy.” He smirked. “I know you think you’ll get to spend more time with Ryan now that you’re on base, but trust me when I say he didn’t hire you because he wants you.”

This was highly inappropriate. I didn’t want to hear it either. “You’re absolutely right. I was hired because I’m good at what I do, and I’ll prove that in my presentation.”

“Right. I’m sure you will,” Whitmore said, then ruffled his hair. “Listen, I don’t want you to get hurt, that’s why I’m here.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Ryan’s great. You and I both know that, but if you continue down this road, you’re going to wind up hurt.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

Jack snorted. “You don’t need to pretend. He’s an eligible bachelor. A military man. I know you’re physically and romantically interested in him, you two spent the night together.”

“This is none of your business.” I rose behind the desk.

He put out his palms to placate me, but it didn’t do much to quash the anger in my gut. How dare he come in here to talk to me about personal shit like this? And he’d winked at me too. My mind was all over the place thanks to this conversation.

“I’m not trying to pry. Ryan was my – he was my best friend,” he said, and for a second a hint of sincerity crept into his tone.

I lowered myself into the squeaky, uncomfortable receptionist’s chair again. I didn’t know much about Ryan and I did want to know more, despite his weird and ever-changing attitude. Baker reminded me of that Katy Perry Hot n’ Cold song.

“He’s not your best friend anymore?” I asked.

“Not really. Well, we’re friends, right, but we’re soldiers first. I guess, he’s just not the man I used to know.”

“Why?” I couldn’t help myself. I was in a desert, thirsty for information, and Jack had control over the oasis.

“He was normal before he was deployed,” Jack said. “A regular soldier. I wasn’t happy we were separated but what could I do, right? And then he came back from Iraq and it wasn’t the same anymore. He was a broken man.”

I shook my head. I didn’t want to think of what he might’ve seen out there. My father had served and been in action, but he never came home ‘broken’ per say. He had PTSD, he got help, and he suffered, but he survived.

Ryan must’ve experienced something terrible to be ‘broken.’ Was it right for me to ask what that was? I shifted. “Perhaps, it’s better if we don’t –”

“You see, Ryan was in charge of men out there. He was a commander,” Jack continued, and ignored the look of horror twisting my features. It wasn’t right to talk about this. “But he made a bad decision and he ended up getting them killed.”

“No.” I pushed my chair back.

“Yeah. He was the only survivor. He hasn’t recovered from it since,” Jack said. “To make matters worse, there was an investigation into his behavior, whether he compromised the troops willfully or not. Naturally, he didn’t, but the review took it out of him.”

Silence fell and I shifted my gaze away from Jack. I didn’t want this conversation to continue. This was private information. He could keep his oasis, the lake, the camels and whatever else he had.

“He can’t be in a relationship,” Whitmore said. “He’s not ready. I know he’s slept with you, and I thought you ought to know that he doesn’t get feelings. He won’t ever be capable of loving you. He’s fucked in the head.”

“Get out,” I said, and glared at him. “Get out of my office, right now.”

“Don’t take it like that,” Jack said. “He’s using you. That’s all I wanted you to know, okay?”

Here I’d thought Whitmore had a spine. That he actually wanted to help his ‘friend.’ “Leave now, before I call –”

“Relax, I’m going. I didn’t expect you to take it this way.” He got up and sauntered to the exit, oozing swagger which made me gag. God, had Paula actually slept with this creature? I had to phone her and warn her about him. “I just wanted you to be prepared for the heart break. I thought it would be fair on you.”

I didn’t answer.

“After all, there are plenty of men on this base who would treat you right.” He gave me another wink, then left my office.

The door stayed open after his departure and I didn’t have the constitution to get up and close it. I trembled, a mixture of fury and sorrow.

It made sense that Ryan would be distant, now. I didn’t want to believe Jack, since he clearly had an agenda, but it added up. Ryan didn’t want to get emotionally involved, but he sure enjoyed the physical aspect of our ‘relationship.’

But was he using me?

“Stop it,” I whispered. “Don’t listen to that asshole.” I focused on my portfolio, but the swatches of fabric blurred together. I couldn’t pick out colors let alone patterns with this crap on my mind.

I didn’t come out here to obsess over a man! I came out here to find liberation from Meek Springs and my own uncertainty.

Two sharp knocks on my door and I sat bolt upright again. Shit, was he back?

Ryan leaned against the jamb and gave me an easy smile. “Hi,” he said.

“Hi,” I replied, “friend.”

Baker’s smiled turned upside down. “Yeah, about that –”

“There’s nothing you have to tell me. No excuses you have to make,” I said. “I don’t want to hear them, anyway. I know why I’m here and it’s not for… you know.” I couldn’t verbalize it properly, but he had to grasp my meaning.

I paged through my portfolio, absently.

“How’s work going?” he asked. Great segue, Ryan, real great.

“It’s interesting.”

“How so?”

“Just a lot of different color schemes to choose from.” I sighed and kneaded my forehead. I couldn’t rub my eyes without messing up the makeup I’d painstakingly applied in front of the tiny mirror in the bathroom this morning.

“You look like you could use a break. Why don’t we go grab a bite? It’s just about lunch time,” he said. “I hear we’re having Mac n’ Cheese today.”

“You had me at ‘Mac.’ I could eat a horse,” I said.

He laughed. He actually laughed. God, had Baker decided to lighten up? I grabbed my jacket off the back of the chair, slipped it on, then walked over to him.

Ryan placed his hand in the small of my back, a light touch to guide me from the room, and every cell in my body practically burst into flame. I couldn’t afford to become emotionally involved – whoops, too late – and I certainly couldn’t risk touching him again if I planned on preserving my sanity here.

I stepped out of his reach, ignoring the swell of desire. “Let’s go.”

Chapter 14

Ryan

"So about that friend thing," I said, and stuck a fork in my Mac n' Cheese.

"I said we don't have to talk about it. I've got all the interior decorating stuff to worry about," she said, and gobbled down some food.

The officer's mess hall was quiet. Not many folks came down for lunch. They'd either skip or eat something at their desk while they worked. We had the room to ourselves, for now, and the wide windows looked out on the base and the gathering clouds.

It was a pretty miserable day - no outdoor exercises or tests to speak of.

We ate in silence for a bit, and I enjoyed the smooth creamy cheese. The base was shades of gray, but the food definitely didn't match the atmosphere. Marcel, our chef, worked wonders with the army rations he was given.

I don't think of you as just a friend," I said. Fuck, it was difficult for me to open up. "I don't know what I think of you as."

She kept eating and looked out of the window.

"It's more than just -"

"You've been hurt in the past and I'm an easy target. I get it," she said. "I get that you just want physical stuff. That's fine."

"What?"

"It's fine," she said, and gestured with her fork. A bit of macaroni plopped off and landed back in her bowl. "I like the physical stuff too. I don't know what you think of me. Like, you know how I feel about Meek Springs and I don't want you thinking I see you as some weird, pseudo-way out of this place. That's not it at all."

"You're making a whole lot of assumptions. I'm struggling to keep up," I said.

"I'm just not interested in drama, I guess. I get enough of that at home." She ate more of her lunch, then grabbed her water and glugged that back. "I have to make this project a success."

"I know. I'm not going to get in the way of that."

She shrugged.

Was that what she thought? That I'd ruin this opportunity for her? I wasn't that guy. I wasn't any kind of guy at the moment. Just one who'd gone too far with a woman who threatened my entire sense of self. Oh fucking well, right?

"I'm going to need to get more stuff from town," she said. "Shit, I feel really bad about it. I know we went in the other day but I didn't think."

"It's no problem. Jack's going to have to do a supply run tomorrow, anyway. I 'll go along and get what you need. What is it?"

"Just some stuff from the store. I left a few of my portfolios there and I know there's a few fabric swatches in there that might suit what I have planned for this place. I'm thinking teals and greens, perhaps. Cream too."

"Interesting."

"Anything but gray, right."

"Anything but gray," I confirmed. Anything to make my soldier's lives easier, happier, more efficient. "Well, I'll head in tomorrow. Just give me a list of the things you need from the store and I'll collect it for you."

"Ugh, my mom has the key."

"I'll collect that too," I said.

"Are you sure? She's a piece of work."

"I'm sure I've encountered worse," I replied. It would take more than an overbearing parent to scare me off. All that scared me were the inappropriate questions and stares from the woman, and that was more mild discomfort than actual fear.

We finished our meal in silence, and I took hers through to the tray drop off, then returned to the table. "There's choc pudding."

"Nah, I'm pretty full. I have to get back to the office." She rose and I followed her out of the mess hall and down the corridor.

This time the quiet was awkward. I was a puppy dog following behind her. Man, when had I become this pathetic? I was a Lieutenant Commander with people beneath me, but I couldn't get this nineteen year old out of my head.

We halted in front of her door, and she cleared her throat, checking her watch.

"So, remember to email me that list. Or heck, write it down and give it to me," I said.

"Yeah, I will do."

"I - uh, yeah." I stuck my hands in my pockets and looked both ways up and down the hall. Fuck, why was this so weird?

"You didn't have to walk me back," she said, and licked her lips. "I'm not completely hopeless, you know."

"Wouldn't want you to get lost. I know what it's like, first time on a big base, lots of corridors and not that many signs."

"Yeah, well, the mess hall is right around the corner." She unlocked her office door and entered. "I think I would've found it on my own."

"Sue me. I wanted to spend a little time with you." And now, I'd become the master of cheese. I didn't know how to handle this situation. It was either be gruff and detached, or be too much and obsequious. I didn't like either.

I couldn't find a way to be myself again.

"Just stop, Ryan. It's okay."

I moved quickly. Grasped the back of her head. Pulled her into a kiss and parted her lips. Tasted her mouth.

She collapsed against me, put her hands to my chest and pushed back. "I don't want to be confused anymore," she said, her lips glistening. "If it's just physical, say so."

She wanted me to say it was physical and only that. Maybe, she needed a way out too. I'd given her plenty of mixed messages because I couldn't handle my shit around her. It was time to give her some clarity.

"It's just physical," I lied. "Let's keep it that way."

"Good," she replied, and the tension seeped from her. She was relieved it was just physical.

I kicked the office door shut, reached back and locked it. We stared at each other, heat building between us, swirling, threatening to break me. Just that long, hot stare and I'd already cultivated a boner.

Chanel looked down at my pants, a tiny smirk torturing me. She undid my belt, then unzipped my pants, reached inside and brought out my dick.

"If it's just physical..." She dropped to her knees in front of me.

"No - wait. I don't want you to do anything you don't -"

She closed her mouth around the head of my dick and my eyes rolled back. Fuck, that was amazing. How could I say 'no' to this? If it was what she really wanted, then why should I?

Chanel flicked her tongue across that sweet, sensitive spot beneath my tip, and made an appreciative slurping noise. She moaned, then sat back. "Good?"

I brushed my fingers through her hair. "Unbelievable."

She grinned at me, then spat into her hand and wrapped it around my shaft. She took me into the warmth of her mouth again, and worked my dick.

I pumped with her movements, and clutched a handful of her hair.

She gagged, then giggled around my cock, and continued slurping, licking, building my pleasure.

I'd lose control if this continued, pound into her mouth and release everything I had. Maybe she wanted that too. "Fuck," I said.

She pulled back. "Good idea." Chanel lay back on the carpet and hiked up her skirt, exposing her wet, swollen lips to me. "I forgot to pack underwear," she said, and laughed. "Guess, that comes in handy now."

"Good God, you're beautiful," I said, and tracked my gaze over her body. Partially clothed and she had me begging for more. I sank to my knees in front of her, my dick bounced, hungry for more of her, dripping now with pre-cum rather than her spit.

She reached between her legs, collected her own juices and moved them over her clit. "Oh yeah," she hissed, and circled it. She bucked upward and squeezed her eyes shut.

I was mesmerized by her. The soft gasps, hip movements, her breasts heaving, and that moist center, desperate for my touch. I could give her what she needed. What she needed was me.

"Please," she whimpered.

"I love it when you say that."

"Please," she repeated. "I need to feel you. Give me what I want, Ryan."

I shifted her hand out of the way and crawled up her body, pausing to nuzzle her breasts. She didn't have a bra on either and I sucked her nipples through the silk of her blouse. The taste of fabric and the hardness of that nub in my mouth took me to fucking nirvana.

Chanel took me by the chin and tugged. "Up here."

I followed her order - doing that was what I did best - and met her gaze. Desire rolled from her tight, little body. I angled myself so that my dick pressed against her slick entrance.

"I'm going to make the front of your pants wet," she whispered.

"Good." I kissed her then, and massaged her tongue with mine. She tasted like heaven, and I groaned into her mouth.

Chanel wrapped her legs around my waist and slapped her hands onto my ass. She applied pressure. "Give it to me," she demanded, petulant, breathing against my lips. "Now."

I entered her in one sharp thrust, all the way in, stretching her tightness, spearing myself into her body. I trembled and barely kept from crying out.

Chanel bit her lip hard. We couldn't make too much noise with everyone indoors within hearing range.

I stroked her hair from her face, kissed her forehead, then the tip of her nose, her eyes. I moved inside her, slow and steady now, deep pumps that made us both crazy.

Chanel placed her hands on my shoulders, then nudged me. I rolled onto my back with her on top, and she sat down hard on my dick, and let out a tiny moan.

"Shh," I whispered.

A sneaky smile and she circled her hips. She rode me fast, her hands on her breasts and her tongue sticking out of the corner of her mouth. "Oh my God," she whispered.

I placed my hands on her hips and lifted her up, then down again. Up and down, working her on my dick and bringing myself closer to climax.

She played with her clit, stealing our fluids and lubricating herself. "Gonna come," she muttered. "You're so fucking thick."

I plunged into her, rammed her down on my dick. "Fuck yes."

Chanel closed around me, tightening up, a sudden moment of relaxation and then her pulsing orgasm began. She massaged my dick, and that familiar heat built in my core. I held her in place and came inside her, gripping the flesh on her hips, unable to speak. My mouth dropped open and I moaned again.

Chanel's orgasm finally ended and she lay down on my chest, breathing hard. "Thank you," she said.

"Thank you." I wrapped my arms around her, but she sat up, and then stood. The moment had passed, apparently. She was determined to keep things as strictly physical as I'd said they were.

She tugged down her skirt. "I'm going to have to go back to my quarters and clean up."

"Me too," I said, and tucked myself away, zipping up. Not that I could move much at this point.

Chanel smiled at me, but folded her arms. "And then I have to work."

"Yeah. I'll - uh, I'll catch up with you later." I pushed myself into a sitting position. I wanted to say something more, but what was there to say? Telling her I felt something would defeat the purpose of this.

I couldn't rid myself of the disappointment that she hadn't wanted to hug or kiss after. Since when had I become this soft? I smiled at her, straightened my shirt, then headed out.

Chapter 15

Chanel

I sat on my bed and took the nail file out of my overnight bag. It’d already been several nights and I didn’t have enough of what I needed to stay here in a relative state of comfort. The confrontation with my mother had cut short any hopes of packing at the house, and now, Ryan would probably meet up with Henrietta Scott and have a similar encounter.

It embarrassed me to the core. It didn’t help that I couldn’t get him out of my thoughts. Today’s session didn’t help me keep things strictly physical for the state of my sanity.

If anything, I wanted more of him. I needed to know him.

“Ugh,” I muttered. I pushed off from the bed and walked to the door, then nudged it shut. I had to talk to somebody about all of this, and I hadn’t caught up with Paula since I’d come to the base. She’d probably chew me out for it.

A risk I’d take for a chance to talk about everything that was happening.

I fetched my cell from the boring-as-hell steel desk in the corner, then swiped to unlock and scrolled through to Paula’s number. I hit dial, then pressed the phone to my ear.

I walked to my window and looked out on the quiet night. Distant clouds on the horizon, moonlight parting the dark, and stars peeking down at the world.

“About fucking time,” Paula answered.

“And hello to you too,” I said.

“Oh, no, no, no you don’t, bish. You left me hanging for like, days?”

“I texted you,” I said. Though, that wouldn’t be any excuse in her book.

“You texted me. That’s like giving your mom a fat slap instead of flowers on mother’s day,” Paula said. “Okay, okay, bad example. I’m not saying your mother deserves a fat slap but -”

“Anyone ever tell you that you should be a comedian?”

“Only in sarcasm,” she said, in a mock monotone. I could tell from the timbre of her voice that she was psyched to hear from me, and the same excitement bubbled just below my diaphragm.

Paula was the one girl I could trust. The one person who’d always be there for me and show me the understanding that my mother couldn’t.

“I miss you,” I said. “Like for real, though.” Millennial slang was our choice of communication most of the time.

“Baby girl, I miss you too. Like for real, though.”

“What’s happening in Meek Springs?” I asked. “No, wait, first let me ask you this, did you sleep with that other soldier guy? Jack?”

“Jack Stick Up His Butt Whitmore?” Paula asked. “No. I didn’t. I thought he was super cute when we first started talking. Granted, that might’ve been the haze in the bar, but yeah, turns out not so much.”

“Why? What happened?”

“He grabbed my ass. Like full on grabbed it,” she said.

“That sounds like a Thursday night for you.”

“No, honey, you’re mistaken. I don’t mean he grabbed my butt and gave it a squeeze. He literally reached into my jeans, under my panties, and grabbed my bare cheek. Gave me the fucking chills. I’ll tell ya, that’s a good way to lose a hand,” she said.

My suspicions about the creeper were instantly confirmed. “What happened then?”

“I slapped him.” Her grin came down the line. I could picture it. “Naturally, he didn’t feel much like grabassery after that. There was a minute there where I swear he wanted to slap me back.”

“What?!”

“For real. His eyes changed. Like, they went darker, I swear to God.”

“Were you sneaking booze on the side again?” I asked.

“Whatevs.”

I sighed. “No, I can actually believe you about this. I’m on the base, now, and I’ve got my own office. He came in the other day to lecture me about Ryan and how he’s not ready for anything emotional.” It still ate at me that he did that, and shared private information about his friend. But he was probably right about Ryan’s capability for commitment.

“No way.”

“Way,” I said. Okay, that wasn’t so much millennial talk as it was 90s talk. “Anyway, it kind of sucked to hear it.”

“Speaking of the hunky soldier man,” Paula said, “what’s happening there?”

“Not much,” I said, and choked on the lie.

“Oh come on, I know you better than that. You had a one night stand, which is so not you. You can’t tell me you’ve been able to resist his charms this long.”

“I could tell you that, but it wouldn’t be convincing.” I took a deep breath, then filled her in on the details, the secret trysts on base, my deep desire for him and his apparent one for me.

“That’s amazing,” Paula said.

“Uh-huh.” I focused on the scene outside. Nothing moved, and the lights on base ruined the peaceful appearance of the mountain in silhouette. There wasn’t much beauty in concrete, gas, rubber, and steel.

“What is it? What’s bothering you?”

“The stuff Whitmore told me, I guess. I don’t want to get emotionally involved with someone who’s this unavailable. I was an army brat, Paula. I moved around loads when I was a kid, and then I eventually lost my father and got stuck in this God forsaken town. I know what this life is about.”

“And you don’t want that for you?”

“No. I don’t know. I didn’t think so until this happened, but it’s a moot point now. He’s not that type of man,” I said.

“And that disappoints you,” she replied.

“Yes. God dammit, I shouldn’t feel ashamed to admit that, but I do.”

“You don’t need to be ashamed. I mean, he’s gorgeous, and he seemed eligible, if a bit rude, and you slept with him. You’re not used to just sleeping with a guy and there being no follow up.”

She had a point. “Maybe I’m out of my depth here.”

“Just don’t overthink it,” Paula said. “You’re there to do a job and if you have some fun along the way, what’s the harm?”

“I don’t want to get hurt.”

A strange scratching sound drew my attention and I turned from the window and scanned my room, frowning. Nothing. That was weird.

“You can’t protect yourself forever,” Paula said, “but hey, it sounds to me like you’re on the right track. You’re keeping your distance and enjoying the physical aspects of it, ya know?”

“I guess.” That scratching and then a strange click. Was that coming from the door? I narrowed my eyes at it, but nothing moved or changed.

“Are you kidding? Think of this as your break from reality. You get to do what you love while you’re doing someone else,” Paula said, and giggled.

“Hilarious.”

“And when you come back, you’ll have your options waiting for you.”

“Wait, what? What options?” Did Paula know something I didn’t?

“You know what I mean.”

“I honestly don’t. Are you trying to tell me there’s a way out of Meek Springs I don’t know about? A secret job offer on the table?”

“What? No,” she said, and laughed. “You’re so weirdly focused on your goals.”

“Yeah, that is weird. Much better to be focused on dick, right?”

She guffawed. “Aw, come on, you know what I mean. Anyways, that wasn’t what I was talking about. So, apparently, you’ve got a not-so-secret admirer.”

“Who?” It couldn’t be Ryan, which naturally sucked. And I couldn’t work up excitement at the prospect of anyone else.

“Duh, the most eligible bachelor in Meek Springs! Timothy.”

“Timothy? Timothy likes me? I mean, he asked me out the other day but I didn’t take it seriously. I thought it was just one of his moves, you know. Like he pulls on all the girls?” I shook my head. Timothy was what other women considered hunky, but he did nothing for me.

“All the girls? Sheesh, how many girls do you think he’s been with?”

“Uh? I know for a fact Rebecca dated him for like a week. And then Cheryl. And then Lillian,” I said. “Gosh, who hasn’t been with him? He just wants me as another notch on his belt.”

“I don’t think so, hon. He really likes you. Word on the street is he’s determined to make you his girlfriend,” she said.

I huffed out a breath. That was exactly what I didn’t need. If my mom heard about it, she’d either ban me from leaving the house or she’d encourage it to get me away from the base. “Well, do me a favor and put the word out on the street that I am not interested in Timothy. He actually approached me while I was in the truck with Ryan the other day. Mondo embarrassing.”

“Oh my God, you’re kidding,” she said.

“Not even a little bit. And it sucked. So yeah, I’m not into Timothy and I never will be.”

Paula smacked her lips and hummed – her telltale sign of contemplation.

“What?”

“Nothing, I just bet that the soldier dude was super jealous when that happened. I’d bet anything actually.”

“No, he wasn’t jealous.” He couldn’t have cared less. He drove off, most likely because Timothy overstepped his bounds and touched the car. I didn’t want to believe Ryan had any feelings for me, because if I let myself in on that possibility, I’d get my hopes up and only come crashing down.

“All right, so I’ll tell Timothy to back the fuck off because you don’t need no man,” Paula said. “Or I could tell him you’ve already got one.”

“Don’t start with me, woman.”

“Yeah, yeah. Well, if it weren’t for me you’d never have blown the cobwebs off your pussy.”

“You’re lucky I can’t slap you through the phone. Listen, I’ve got to go. I have to get some sleep before tomorrow. I have a full day of work –”

“And dirty, hot sex.”

“Work! Ahead of me.” I blushed despite my protest. I’d have loved another session with Ryan. He unlocked the passionate side of me, for sure.

“All right, baby doll. Sleep tight. Don’t let the soldiers bite. Unless it’s on your –”

“Byeee!” I hung up before she could finish the sentence. The woman was incorrigible. I wasn’t a prude, but Paula had always been a free soul. Free didn’t equal slutty. She was just uninhibited.

I envied her sometimes. She made snap decisions, where I spent ages deliberating over what to do or going back on what I’d decided. The only thing I could be decisive about was design. Perhaps, that was why I loved what I did so much.

I had a natural feel for it, whereas romance was beyond me.

I walked to my bed and sat down, then flopped back and stared at the ceiling with it’s boring bulb. Blegh, bland.

“Dad, I wish I could talk to you about everything. I wish I could ask you what you would do in this situation. Would you have left your mom’s house if she did this to you? Would you have run off to the big city?” I squeezed my eyes shut and blocked out the tears that pricked at their corners. “I just want a sign that everything is going to be okay.”

I waited and waited, the silence closing in around me, coating me in a layer of despair. Nothing came. No happy sign from my dad.

I got up and went to the desk instead, then sat down and opened one of the portfolios. I blinked and sucked in a breath.

A picture of my dad was stuck to the page, trapped between two swatches of fabric. I’d likely left it there after using it as a bookmark – a nice way to keep my father with me at all times.

“Thank you,” I said, and bowed my head. I let the tears fall.

Chapter 16

Ryan

“I appreciate your offer to come with,” Jack said, “but it won’t be necessary. I think I can handle this.” He reached for the list I’d printed out and I held it out of reach.

“No, this is a list for Miss Scott,” I said. “She specifically asked me to fetch this for her.”

“What is it?” Jack asked, then glanced left and right to make sure none of the other soldiers on base could hear our conversation. “Panties?”

“Jack, don’t make me put you down in front of everyone here. I’ve had enough of your insubordination.”

“Dude, chill. We’re friends, remember?”

I ignored him and walked around to the driver’s side of the vehicle. Not a chance would I let this asshole drive me into town like he was in charge of the supply run. I’d had enough of his attitude. If he pissed me off I’d drop him on the side of the road and make him run back.

Friends, ha. We hadn’t been friends since he’d shown his sneaky side.

I clunked the car door open, then folded the piece of paper and tucked it into my breast pocket. She’d handwritten it and given it to me this morning. I nearly pushed her into her room and took her right there.

Chanel stunned me with her ability to make me lose all sense of my self-control.

I hauled my ass into the vehicle, then waited for ass face to hop in beside me. I wasn’t interested in chatter from him, but it would be unavoidable on the way in.

Jack would try me. I got the impression he wanted me to fail on base. If I knew why, I would confront him, but what was the damn point? In my experience, men with ego problems didn’t lose them without a serious beating.

They needed to be helped right in life, and I couldn’t afford to beat anyone. In all seriousness, a punch at one of my own troops, no matter how annoying, would only end badly for me.

It was probably why he pushed me this hard. He wanted that reaction out of me.

Jack squished into his seat, then tugged on his seatbelt and patted the dashboard. “Let’s get this show on the road, Lieutenant Commander.”

I started the engine and the truck put-putted toward the chain link fence. A couple of soldiers stepped out and opened for us, with a salute, and I drove through the opening and toward the first check point below. The first of many to deter civilians from coming up to the base.

They tried in the beginning. In fact, they came bearing signs and anger. Thank God, that’d died down after a while.

I glanced in the rearview mirror – a final hope for a glimpse of Chanel, though she was safely indoors and working on her presentation – then steered toward the first outpost.

The soldier saluted there too, checked his clipboard, then let us through.

The truck’s tires hit the dirt road two minutes later and we rattled along.

“So –”

“We don’t need to fill the silence,” I said. “I’d rather listen to tires on dirt.”

“What’s with you, Baker? We’re buddies, remember? We’re pals. We’ve always been that way. I might be a dick sometimes, but you don’t have to be touchy about it. You weren’t before.”

“That’s because I was a dick too.” Hopefully, I changed. And if I hadn’t, it was probably a good thing I stayed away from Chanel.

I’d already developed an attraction to her, and it’d bloomed into something else I didn’t want to consider.

“You’re still a dick,” Jack said, and laughed, a hearty chuckle that didn’t suit his snake-eyed expression. “Listen, man, I know you’re pissed about what I said before. I’m just trying to look out for you. You get that right?”

I gritted my teeth. God, give me strength not to punch this mother fucker. Also, sorry for the bad language.

“I care about you, bud.”

“One helluva way of showing it, pal,” I said. Man, why did I have to put up with this? I had the power to contact someone and have Jack removed, but it seemed petty. He hadn’t done anything outright. He hadn’t hurt me physically or even tried to dent my reputation, as far as I could tell.

Everything on base continued as usual, including the crap aesthetic.

“All right, you don’t want to talk about it, that’s fine.”

“Talk about what?” I asked.

“The way you’re falling for that slut back on base.”

I pumped the brakes and Jack’s chest jerked against the strap. His head ducked forward then back again. “What the fu –”

“If you call Chanel that again, you’re going to wish you were never born,” I said, in cold tones. “Do you understand? I will make you wish you were never born.”

“Jesus, relax dude. It was a joke. Sheesh.”

“Calling someone a slut is not a joke.”

Jack shrugged. “I didn’t meant it like that. Whatever,” he said. “I just meant you’re falling for someone you’ve slept with like once, right? You need to chill. It has only been once, hasn’t it?”

I took three deep, calming breaths, and tuned him out. Serenity. Peace. And all those other crappy buzzwords that didn’t drown out the growl of anger. He needed a hard kick in the nuts.

I continued down the dirt road and to the second checkpoint, mountain views flashing past our windows. I drove further down to the third checkpoint. Jack chattered on but I ignored him, other than to nod or shake my head when he asked one of his dumbass questions.

We reached the fourth checkpoint and the soldier stepped out of the little guard house and ran over to the truck, waving his clipboard.

“What’s this?” I asked, and slowed down.

Jack, for once, didn’t have an answer.

I parked the truck in front of the boom, then rolled down my window. “Private?”

“Sorry, Lieutenant Commander, I received the call that you were coming through and thought it best to stop you before you go into Meek Springs.” He saluted.

“What’s the problem?”

“Two things, Sir. We’ve got another storm coming in, according to the weather reports I’ve received,” he said. “If you go down and you don’t come back within the next hour, I won’t be able to let you through.”

“Understood,” I said. If we didn’t make it back in time, I’d simply put in a call to Chanel and tell her that she’d get her stuff in the morning. Wouldn’t want her to worry about it. “What’s the other problem?”

“Well, Sir, it appears there’s a protest in Meek Springs.”

“A protest?” Jack asked.

“Yes, Sir,” the private said. “I’ve heard that they’re lined up in the main street to prevent you from passing by them. They’re holding signs.”

Shit. We did supply runs at the same time every week, so they’d planned accordingly.

“We’ll have to go around them,” I said. “Thanks for the Intel, private.”

“Yes, Sir,” he said, and then saluted and ran to open the boom.

“Protests, eh?” Jack snorted. “These townies sure love the U.S. Navy. Think they know what we sacrifice to keep them safe?”

I kept my mouth shut and saluted the private, then drove under the boom and toward the town. I took a right once we hit main road and slowed to a crawl, glancing between the quiet buildings and stores at the road.

“There,” Jack said, and pointed in the direction of the crowd. “They haven’t spotted us yet.”

I brought civilian clothes just in case I needed to barter with someone to help Jack get our supplies – he wasn’t the politest dude around – but these folks, man, they looked mad enough to spit.

We wouldn’t get much out of them, now.

They marched up and down the road, chanting and holding signs.

No, No, Navy Must Go!

No More Secret Tests!

Give Us Back Our Town!

“Eloquent,” Jack said. “You think they came up with those themselves.”

“I can respect what they’re doing. They have a right to voice their opinions, and they’re standing up for what they believe in.” I focused on the street ahead, again, and made for Chanel’s mother’s house instead.

We’d start there, then head back into the center of Meek Springs once the crowds dissipated.

“If you say so,” Jack said.

The truck roared down the road and toward suburbia, away from the yells and marching. It was my experience that protests could turn ugly in a heartbeat. People who mobilized for a cause were already caught up in passion and excitement.

The anonymity of a crowd brought a false sense of safety, and that equaled danger most times.

I turned onto Chanel’s road and my pulse skipped up. Shit, I really wasn’t afraid of her mother, but the thought of making an ass of myself in front of her gave me the fear. I didn’t want to make a bad impression.

I parked in front of the house, then opened my door. Jack followed suit.

I stuck out my hand. “No, you stay here. I’ll handle these errands.”

The Petty Officer First Class rolled his eyes and settled back again. “Suit yourself, man. Good luck.”

I made sure to slap the door shut extra hard, and Whitmore’s responding yell brought me great satisfaction. I reached the front door of the Scott house, checked my uniform was neat and straight, then knocked, three brief raps.

“One moment,” Mrs. Scott called out. Footsteps approached the other side of the door.

I shook out my arms, relaxed my body, and assumed a professional pose.

The latch clacked, and she appeared, an older, taller version of Chanel, but mean. Harsh, somehow, as if she’d been tried and tested and made it through her trials.

“Good afternoon, Mrs. Scott.”

“You’re that soldier.”

“Lieutenant Commander Ryan Baker, ma’am. I’m sorry to bother you today,” I said, then drew the folded list from my pocket. “I’m here on behalf of your daughter, Chanel Scott.”

Her face changed immediately, a flash of concern, and then downright anger. “Oh? And what does the little miss want?”

“She asked that I fetch these items for her. I hoped you could help me ascertain them, ma’am,” I said, and handed over the paper.

She unfolded and smoothed it out, then scanned it. Her expression darkened. “Some of these things are at the store,” she said. “I can’t help you with them.”

“It’s my understanding that you have a key for Scott’s Interiors, ma’am. Miss Scott asked me to retrieve it, then fetch the items that she’s missing from there.”

“Oh? Is that what she asked? You seem to be close with my daughter, Lieutenant Commander,” she said. “Whenever I see her these days, she’s with you.”

I didn’t break a sweat. “I’m in charge of the project she’s working on, ma’am. I need her to have these things so she’s capable of finishing.”

Mrs. Scott stared at me a little while longer, the paper quivering between her fingers. “Fine,” she said. “Wait here. I’ll get the key and what’s on the list.” She backed off, then slammed the door shut in my face.

It was rude, but I thanked the stars that she wasn’t with the protestors in the center of town. Then again, that probably wasn’t her scene. I checked my watch and frowned. Given the delays in town, we likely wouldn’t make it back to the base in time to avoid the storm.

I’d have to call Chanel and let her know I’d have her stuff back by tomorrow. I drew my cell from my pocket and sighed. My palms had grown clammy at the thought of it. Of hearing her voice and knowing she was up there without me, waiting.

Chapter 17

Chanel

I swiveled in my office chair and frowned at the failing light, the gathering clouds. Ryan should’ve been back at the base by now. God, and he’d gone with that annoying Whitmore too. I couldn’t imagine what a long ride with that guy had to be like, and I didn’t want to.

I brought my phone out of my desk drawer, unlocked the screen and checked the time. “It’s almost 6 pm,” I muttered.

The cell trilled to life in my hand and I squeaked and tossed it upward. “Shit!” I caught it one-handed, then squinted at the name on the screen.

Paula.

I swiped my thumb across the screen. “Hello?”

“Hey! I’m calling before the damn storm hits. I wanted to tell you what’s happening before you hear it from someone else,” she said.

“What are you talking about? What storm?”

“Huge one. Another of those kick ass bar-time blizzards,” Paula said. “Except I don’t have my party buddy with me to kick it at the local spot.”

“Sorry,” I said, and my intestines twisted into a knot. The storm meant Ryan would either get trapped in it or have to stay the night. But if he decided to stay, why didn’t he call? Ridiculous. He wouldn’t call. He didn’t have a reason to call me. I wasn’t his girlfriend.

“Knock, knock, are you there?”

“Sorry, I zoned out for a second. You were saying?”

“I’m not calling to tell you about the damn storm,” she said. “I’m calling because I think we might’ve made a wee bit of a problem.”

“Since when are you Scottish?” I asked.

“It’s my natural defense mechanism. When I’m freaked I return to my roots,” she said, in a thick, fake Scottish accent. “In all seriousness, though. I might have followed your advice about telling Timothy to back off a little too well.”

“Oh my God, what did you do?”

“So, remember how you told me to like, talk to Timothy and tell him to back off because you’re not interested?”

“Yeah?” This couldn’t have anything to do with Ryan, so I allowed myself a little relief from the anxiety, and leaned back in my chair.

Those ominous storm clouds roiled, a flash of lightning arched across the sky, but the thunder didn’t rumble just yet. The weather would be worse up in the mountains, but the base had generators in case of this type of thing.

“Well, I kind of went a bit overboard. I confronted Timothy and asked him what his deal was. He told me the same shit, that he likes you and he wants to make you his girlfriend and all that crap.”

“No offense, but this is really juvenile. What are we, back in high school?”

“It gets worse,” she said, and her voice deepened. “I – uh, might have told him that you have someone to preoccupy you on the base. I didn’t mention names, but he probably figured it was the guy he sees you with all the time. The one that picked you up at your house.”

I winced. “Are you kidding? Please, tell me you’re kidding. If you are, this is the worst joke ever.”

“I’m not kidding.”

“How do you know he knows it’s Ryan?”

“Because he mentioned him? Like he described him and he was really angry, and yeah that was this morning and, so, the rumor spread in town that they’re basically holding you hostage up there.”

“What?!” How in God’s name did they make the leap from romance to abduction?

“Yeah, I think Timothy believes the only way you’d choose another man over him is if you were like abducted or forced to or something.”

“What an asshole,” I said, “but it’s okay, rumors are just rumors. Ryan can handle himself.”

“I’m not done,” she said. “Uh, so, yeah. Everyone caught wind of the fact that you’re up there and all the anger about the base and the Navy just moving in and basically taking over the town –”

“Taking over the town? That’s a crock!”

“Yeah, you and I know that, but the rest of the peeps in Meek Springs don’t care. They want the Navy gone and they’re using this as an excuse. They’ve staged a protest today in the center of town, on Main Street.”

“In one day? They managed to organize it in one day?’

Paula sighed, and her breath rushed in my ear. “Yeah, well, it’s not like it takes much here. It spread and people came out of their homes and stores, and now it’s happening. I can hear them from here, listen.”

I concentrated on the phone and blocked my other ear. Distant shouts echoed down the line, followed by the sound of the town alarm. “Oh God.”

“They’re ringing the alarm to get everyone to go back inside now, since the weather’s coming in,” she said. “I had to call before the signal drops. I’m so sorry, girl, I feel like this is all my fault.”

“No. It’s not. Okay, maybe you could’ve omitted a few facts, but it’s not your fault that Timothy is a giant, walking dildo.”

“True.”

I massaged my temples. “Ryan’s gone in to town today to get some stuff for me. I can’t believe this is happening.”

“Okay, well no one’s done anything violent, so I’m sure everything’s fine.”

Thunder rolled and lightning cracked again. The heavens opened above the base, and rain pelted down, drowning out our conversation for a second.

“- go.”

“What?” I yelled. “It’s just started here.”

“I said, I have to go. I’ve got to check everything’s locked up before it starts. Stay safe.”

“You too,” I replied, then hung up.

God, what a mess. If only I’d convinced him to take me along, I might’ve been able to fetch what I needed myself and he’d be safe. Ugh, and then I’d have been with Whitmore in Meek Springs.

I swiveled in my chair, and the lights flickered overhead. Soldiers ran for the safety of the base on the macadam outside the window. Light faded fast, it’d be pitch black soon. Another flash of lighting and then another.

Each one elicited a small yelp from me. I couldn’t help it. I loved storms, but this one had me jumpy. I couldn’t flush the worry from my system – Ryan was out there, and Timothy was after him in some way.

He’d probably never have the guts to confront him face-to-face, but there were others in Meek Springs who had more balls, so to speak. I clenched my fist around the cell and stared at the screen.

The light flickered again, and I preemptively flinched for a lighting strike that didn’t come.

My phone buzzed in my hand – I couldn’t hear the ringtone over the rain – and I gasped at Ryan’s name flashing on the screen. I answered. “Ryan? Are you okay?”

“- couldn’t call earlier. Bad signal.”

“Yeah, I know. The storm.”

“ – hear me?”

“Yeah! I can hear you,” I yelled. Not that it would help. “Can you hear me?”

“Damn complications.”

“What?”

“- make sure you’re safe.”

“I’m fine. When are you coming back?” I asked, and chewed the inside of my cheek. I’d never worried about someone like this before. It devoured me, this fear for his safety.

“- assholes.”

“What?”

“ – gone crazy. Everything’s crazy. Just stay safe.”

“Ryan, are you okay?” Paranoia kicked in. Who was crazy? Had the townsfolk gone crazy? I didn’t underestimate the power of people in groups, particularly closed-minded ones. “Are you okay?” I yelled, again.

“ – no, Jack. Got to –”

The phone went dead and I dropped it from my ear. My insides iced over. I didn’t like this one damn bit. I’d been worried before but this feeling was something else. He was in danger somehow. It had to be true.

My gut told me so. I lurched out of my seat and tucked my cell – now without any bars at all – into the pocket of my puffy coat. I rushed for the exit, and the lights cut out.

I stopped dead, my hand on the doorknob, heart pounding in my ears.

A beat passed and then the lights flickered back on – the generators kicked in. Thank God. I opened my office door and scooted out into the hall, then rushed for the officer’s mess. Hopefully, someone would be in there having dinner.

I entered and spotted Officer Jameson at one of the tables, a spoonful of stew halfway to her mouth. She spotted me and blinked. “Everything okay?”

“No, not really,” I said.

“You afraid of storms?” She put down her spoon and smiled at me, that easy smile that had drawn me to her in the first place.

I couldn’t return it, now. “No,” I said. “No, it’s not that. It’s – listen, Ryan, I mean Lieutenant Commander Baker and Petty Officer Whitmore went into Meek Springs and I just received a call from a friend who lives in town.”

“Something happened?” She sat straight and squared her shoulders.

“I’m not sure. Apparently, there have been protests in Meek Springs today. Protests against the Navy base. I’m worried that something could happen to them down there. And with the storm, it’s just…” I trailed off. Dangerous. It was dangerous.

“Miss Scott, I’m sure they’ll be fine. They’re used to difficult situations,” Jameson said. “They’ll be back once the storm has passed.”

“I got a call from Ryan, see?” I shuffled forward and took my cell out again, showed her the received call. “He sounded angry on the phone. He mentioned crazy people and Jack. I don’t know what’s going on.”

Officer Jameson studied me, up and down, head to toe, then sighed. “I understand why you’re concerned, Miss Scott.”

“Chanel.”

“I understand why you’re concerned, Chanel. I do. But there’s nothing we can do right now. The storm’s probably closed the road already. It’s not safe. You’ll just have to trust that the men can look after themselves.”

I couldn’t accept that. “I’ll take a car down. Give me the keys to one of the trucks. They’re heavy duty, right? They can withstand weather like this.”

“But you can’t drive in it,” she said. “I can’t allow you to go and I certainly don’t have the authorization to permit you to use an official Navy vehicle.”

“But –”

“Chanel, sit down, have some dinner, and relax.”

“You take me then. You can drive the truck and –”

“No,” Jameson said. “I won’t endanger lives on a fool’s errand. The Lieutenant Commander survived Afghanistan and active combat. Not to mention SEALs training. He’ll be fine. And Whitmore, eh, who cares about him anyway, right?”

That brought a smile to my lips. Slowly, the racing pulse settled, my breathing slowed.

“Seriously, take a seat, relax, have something to eat. All’s well that ends well.” Jameson gestured to the bowls and the pot of steaming stew at the other end of the room.

My stomach grumbled in spite of the shitty situation. She was right. There wasn’t a damn thing I could do, even if Ryan was in trouble. All I could do was wait and find a way to pass the time.

“Okay,” I said. “Okay, I guess you’re right.” I walked to the front to collect the food, my mind still turning over what Ryan had said. Was he in danger? Was he okay?

I had to trust that Jameson was right. She probably knew him better than I did anyway.

If she said he was okay, he had to be. Right?

Chapter 18

Ryan

"How many blizzards can one town have in a month?" I mused, and shifted the beer on the coaster in front of me. I'd changed into civilian clothes at the motel because if I had to spend time apart from Chanel, I needed a strong drink.

That was how bad my obsession with her had become. Was it obsession or addiction? I couldn't tell the damn difference. I didn't want to use the 'word.' The one that started with an 'l' and ended with an 'e.' If I did, it would be an admission that might break everything I promised myself I'd stand for after Iraq.

Jack sat down across from me and gathered his coat. "Cold as a witch's tit in here, man. What a fucked up town," he said.

"It's not all bad."

"Right, because you're enjoying the stares from the townsfolk," Jack said, and nodded to the group of men and women at the bar.

They'd come to hunker down for the storm and brought their suspicions with them. Where they'd bordered on rude in my encounters with them before, now they were downright unfriendly.

They glared at us, even in our plain clothes, and muttered behind glass rims and bottles. An uneasy hum that drifted just below the rock music pumping from the single speaker in the corner.

"Let's finish our drinks and get back to the motel," I said. "It's better if we don't cause trouble here." Things had gone really well at the base over the past few days. I didn't need the extra pressure that a negative interaction with the folks of Meek Springs would bring.

"Hey, isn't that - I'm sure I recognize that kid from somewhere," Whitmore said, and gestured with his beer bottle.

I followed his line of sight and settled on the blonde kid who'd harassed Chanel in the truck the other day.

What did she call him? "Timothy," I said. "How do you know him?"

"Oh, uh, he was at the bar the night we were here. Paula mentioned he was into Chanel," he said. "She said that he'd do anything to have her."

I sniffed and glugged back my beer. That was all the more reason to get out of here. The last thing I wanted was that ass deciding he'd try to take me on out of some misplaced sense of valor or competition.

"Finish up, Whitmore. Let's get some sleep," I said, and slurped back my beer. One and done, more than enough. I'd go upstairs and fantasize about Chanel for a while.

Shit, when had I become this person? I'd always employed a sense of military precision when it came to emotional thoughts. I'd weeded them out - they didn't serve a purpose. Now, I could barely keep myself from picturing her face for longer than five minutes.

"Right," Jack said, and eyed the blond kid. "I just started on this sucker, though." He clicked the beer bottle.

"Fine," I said, "I'm going to bathroom. By the time I come out, you'd better have chugged it down."

"Gotcha."

I scooted out of the booth and headed for the men's room, past the watching eyes of the men at the bar. Timothy narrowed his set at me, but I ignored him and the rest of them. I clunked into the bathroom and the door swung shut behind me, cutting off the obnoxious rendition of 'I Love Rock n' Roll' by Britney Spears.

I stood in front of the mirror in the bathroom and studied myself by the harsh light overhead. Stubble on my chin, though I'd shaved yesterday morning. Dark circles under my eyes. I looked old. Too old to be with a woman Chanel's age. Too old to give her the satisfaction and security she needed in life.

Too old to protect her the way I should've protected my men.

I bent over the sink, turned on the faucet and splashed water on my face. I didn't actually need the bathroom, just a break from Whitmore and his idiocy. If he hadn't been the only volunteer to fetch supplies, I might've told him not to come into Meek Springs.

He was a hurricane of trouble, swirling up shit in his path and splattering it all over the lives of those around him. As teens, I'd dragged him out of fights more than once.

I dried my hands and left the bathroom behind, making my way to our booth. I stopped halfway there.

Jack was gone. The men at the bar sniffed and grumbled, but didn't give me any insight.

He probably went back to the motel without me, the asshole. At least, I wouldn't have to endure his chatter on the walk there.

I exited the bar, and gathered my coat against the icy wind. Rain poured from the heavens and I hightailed it in the direction of the motel.

A dull thump and a scream stalled me in my tracks.

"What the fuck?"

"Please." That in a choked squeal. "Stop."

The sound came from just around the corner. I quickened my pace, squinting through the torrent, cold trickling down my spine - nothing to do with the rain, but a sense of foreboding.

I jogged around the corner and halted, brain working to make sense of the image in front of me.

Man on the floor. Blonde hair stained pink with blood. Hands up to shield his face. Jack stood over him, fist raised. He raised his gaze and skewered me with it. "I did it for you Lieutenant Commander," he said, then turned and ran.

"What?" The fuck.

I sprinted to the guy's side and lowered myself beside him. He let out a groan, one eye puffy and shut, the other searching nothingness. "Who's there?"

"It's okay, son. You're safe now." Timothy. It was Timothy. "Don't move." I would fucking kill Jack for this. He'd compromised everything. He lost control. But why?

Now, wasn't the time for questions. I put my arm under Timothy's head and shifted him against my chest.

"Get your hands off him!" A voice roared from the mouth of the alley.

A group of men stood in the mouth of the alley, soaking wet. They clenched their fists, flexed their muscles.

"Put him down!"

"Relax," I said, "I'm here to help."

"Help? You did this to him. You're a monster," the man, their leader apparent, said. "You and all your unnatural folk up at that base. Get away."

“No,” I replied. “I didn’t hurt him. Someone needs to call an ambulance, now.” But there wasn’t a hospital here, and the next ambulance would take ages to get here. I studied Timothy’s broken face, his swollen eyelids. God, it looked as if his jaw was broken. Bruising, blood, and Whitmore had done this. He’d done it all.

One of the men stepped forward, a protester judging by the sign still slung around his neck. Our Town is Not For Rent. “You let him go or –”

“Or what? You’ll attack me?”

The men muttered and shifted their feet. They were brave when they were out, marching in numbers, when the rain wasn’t pouring down the backs of their necks, and they didn’t have to see the face of one of the soldiers they hated so much. But now? They were afraid. Especially of what they thought I’d done to Timothy.

“Listen, the longer we spend here the worse it gets for him. I don’t care if one of you wants to come with me, but we’ve got to get him to a hospital now, and the ambulance isn’t going to get here in time,” I said.

The men exchanged glances this time. A young guy with short cropped hair and a wickedly sharp nose stepped forward. “I’ll come with you.”

“Jerry, are you sure?” The guy with the sign asked.

“It’s fine. I’ll be fine.”

I was up, Timothy limp in my arms, and walking before he’d finished the sentence. “This way,” I said, and rounded the corner. We reached the truck still parked outside the motel in the pouring rain. “Open the back door for me.”

Jerry did as he was told, then helped me feed Timothy onto the back seat. Jerry followed him in and sat down beside the injured kid’s feet.

I shut the door, then jogged around to the driver’s side of the vehicle. The men had come out of the alley to watch proceedings. They muttered, perhaps they had second thoughts. Or maybe, they realized that a man who’d beat another senseless would have split knuckles or wounds to show for the fight.

I got in and started the engine. “Direct me to the hospital,” I said.

“Out of town. It’s in Cregton, half an hour that way,” he replied, and pointed straight ahead.

I’d have to make that half hour much shorter. Timothy groaned in the back seat. “Try to keep him as still as possible,” I said. We shouldn’t have moved him the first time, but there wasn’t hope if we didn’t try.

I sped out of town, the rain pelting the windshield, and the buildings of Meek Springs a blur around us. “How’s he doing?” I called, over the torrential downpour. I squinted at the road, switching to high beams.

“He’s breathing real slow,” Jerry replied. “Real slow. Did you do this to him?”

“No.”

“Then who did this? Who did this to him?” Jerry’s voice trembled – Timothy must be his friend. Then again, everyone in the small town was friends.

I gritted my teeth – I didn’t want to think about who’d done it, though I knew exactly who. “I don’t know,” I lied. “I just found him like that.”

“You just happened to find him like this,” Jerry said. “You just happened to –”

“Now’s not the time, kid,” I grunted.

We raced on through the night toward the hospital, and my insides burned at the thought of what’d happened, at the trouble Whitmore had caused. Why? Why had he attacked the kid? He’d had nothing against him, no reason to fight.

Timothy had cast a few looks our way, but nothing to justify a beating even if we hadn’t been military men.

“I did it for you Lieutenant Commander.” The words echoed through my brain, taunting me with confusion and anger. For me? Why would he – unless this was about Chanel, somehow.

Unless Jack had thought beating Timothy was what I wanted because he’d hit on Chanel. No, surely he couldn’t be that much of a jackass.

“There,” Jerry yelled, and tapped my left shoulder. “Turn here.”

I took the road onto the freeway and kicked it into high gear. The military vehicle slid on the wet road, and Jerry let out a tiny yelp.

“Hold him still. We’ll be fine,” I said, though I wasn’t sure I believed it.

It took twenty minutes from the time we left to the time we pulled up outside the ER. I yelled for help and men and women in coats rushed out with a stretcher. Nurses too. They lifted Timothy out of the back of the truck, blood smeared the seat.

“Is he going to be okay?” Jerry asked, and grabbed one of the nurse’s by the arm. “Is he going to be –?”

“It’s too early to tell,” she replied, then turned to me. “Sir, how did this happen?”

I was frozen, staring at her, torn between throwing that asshole under the bus and maintaining the integrity of the Navy SEALs. “One of my officers beat him,” I replied.

Jerry jerked around. “What? You told me you didn’t know.”

Timothy had already been wheeled into the ER. The nurse remained behind. “I’ll need someone to enter his information into a sheet.”

“I’ll do it,” Jerry said, still glaring at me, hatred beaming from him. Fuck, this was it, wasn’t it? This was how I’d finally lose my post at the base. Lose everything, and potentially have a young man’s death on my hands.

“Follow me,” the nurse said.

“Wait, ma’am? Do you have a phone I can use? I need to call the police and report this incident.” I barely managed to keep my voice from trembling. I had to report what I’d seen. Jack deserved to be behind bars for what he’d done.

“Right this way,” the nurse said.

Chapter 19

Chanel

Ryan’s vehicle pulled up outside the base at the crack of dawn. Most of the soldiers were already awake and busy going about their business. I’d hardly slept a wink, spending the night obsessing over the storm and the dangers Ryan faced.

I hovered in the hallway outside his office door, waiting, twisting the spine of my portfolio this way and that. He was all right, he came back, but a sense of foreboding had settled on me last night and I couldn’t rid myself of it.

Something had gone wrong.

Dad told me to trust my gut and it hadn’t failed me yet. If something felt wrong, it was bound to be.

Nerves built, I tapped my foot on the tiles outside his office and grimaced at the gray that surrounded me. Yeah, no wonder the troops here weren’t in high spirits. The interior of the base was the color of clouds and depression.

I’d only witnessed one color scheme worse than this in my life, and that was at an old age home. Everything was puce or yellow.

“Come on, come on,” I hissed.

Angry shouts radiated from the end of the corridor and I remained in place, listening hard now.

“– Sir?”

“What do you mean?” That was Ryan, shouting. But he never lost his cool. Not like this.

I took a single step toward the source of commotion.

Ryan charged around the corner and toward his office. He spotted me, but didn’t seem to register my presence or the thin smile I sent him.

Petty Officer Jameson followed him, her mouth drawn into a horizontal slash. “I’m sorry, Sir, he hasn’t been back. I thought you’d return together.”

What the hell was this about? I backed away from the door, just as Ryan reached it and barreled through into his office without so much as a ‘hey, what’s happening.’ Jameson ducked her head in my direction – oh good, so I wasn’t totally invisible then – and entered right behind him.

“This is unacceptable,” Ryan said, from inside.

The draw to enter and find out what the heck had happened was too strong. I teetered on my practical heels, straightened my blouse. I’d chosen something smart but tight for his return to base. A part of me had hoped to entice him again.

I peeked around the door jamb.

Jameson stood with her hands behind her back in the classic ‘at ease’ position, though the rod of tension in her shoulders belied how she truly felt.

“I need you to find out if he’s come back,” Ryan said. “Check his bedroom. I need to organize a call with Commander Shepherd.”

“Sir? May I ask what’s going on?”

“Yes,” he said, “unfortunately, I couldn’t reach the base by telephone.”

“Everything’s down.” Jameson’s voice held that unanswered question.

“It’s Petty Officer Whitmore,” Ryan said, “he committed aggravated assault last night. Possible assault and battery. Against a civilian.”

“Christ,” Jameson hissed. “Sorry, Sir.”

“My sentiments exactly. Please, find him. Check his quarters. Turn his bunk upside if you have to. Find out where he is or where he might be headed.”

I shuddered. Whitmore beat up a civilian last night? In Meek Springs. God, if this didn’t bring down the wrath of the town on the base, nothing else would. What the hell happened last night?

Jameson shuttled out of the office and down the hall without a backward glance. Off to track down Jack.

I’d been up all night and there hadn’t been any other vehicles to or from the base. We were shut down here, as they were in town. Curiosity got the better of me and I rapped on the jamb. “Lieutenant Commander?”

“Come in,” he said, without looking up from his laptop. “Close the door behind you, please.”

I did as I was told, then went to the desk, hovering beside the chair. “What happened, Ryan?” I asked. “I was worried about you.”

He typed furiously, his fingers bolting over the keys. “That fucking bastard, Jack,” he grunted. “He beat up –”

“A civilian,” I said.

“Not just any civilian,” Ryan replied, and tapped enter with a flourish. He met my gaze, and the anger there actually made me take a step back. I’d never seen him like this before. He looked ready to rip things apart. I didn’t envy Whitmore.

“What? Who did he hurt?”

“Timothy.”

“Huh?” I blinked three times in rapid succession. “Timothy? Timothy? Blond – hair?” I gestured at my head with the portfolio. “That Timothy?”

“Yes, the kid who likes you,” Ryan replied.

“Oh my God.” I sank into the chair in front of the desk, knees shaking. “Is he okay?”

“He’s in the hospital. I drove him there last night after I found him bloodied and bruised in the alley next to the bar.”

“You two were at the bar when it happened? Did a fight break out?” Try as I might I couldn’t picture Timothy picking a fight with two soldiers. He just wasn’t the type. He had the bravado of twenty college football players, but he wasn’t a dumbass. He knew when he was out of his depth.

“No,” Ryan said. “Jack beat him up in an alley outside of the bar. I believe the attack was unprovoked.”

“But how do you know it was Jack?”

Ryan hesitated and focused on the laptop screen instead of me. He ground his teeth. “Because I saw him run away from Timothy’s body.”

“Body?” I squeaked. “What are you saying? Is Timothy dead?”

“No,” Ryan said, “thank Christ. He’s alive. He’s in Cregton General, but he’s in a coma thanks to that fucking idiot.”

“I don’t understand why Jack would do this,” I said, and shook my head. “I mean, what’s going to happen now?”

“Assuming we can find him, he’s going to be arrested and courtmartialed and put in fucking military prison.” Ryan hadn’t stopped shivering since he entered the office. I’d never seen him this tense, not that I’d known him all that long.

Timothy. I couldn’t wrap my head around it. Timothy in a coma because a Navy SEAL attacked him. He was lucky he was alive. Whitmore was trained to kill. “But why?”

“I don’t – It’s something to do with me,” Ryan said. “He’s doing this to discredit me somehow. Look, I didn’t want to mention it, but, yeah he told me he did it for me seconds before he ran off.”

“He did it for you?”

“Yeah, and he spent most of the night trying to talk to me about you,” Ryan said.

How could this be happening? Did Jack have a death wish? Did he believe that this would hurt Ryan, rather than himself? “This is ridiculous. Surely, he can’t be that crazy. He can’t seriously think that he’ll get away with this.”

“I can’t fathom what he’s thinking right now. I can’t believe this happened. He wasn’t even drunk. I know he wasn’t. We only had a drink a piece.”

“And he’s just gone now? He’s disappeared?” I asked.

“Yes,” Ryan replied, “he’s gone.”

That horrible sensation twirled around in my gut. This wasn’t over and it wouldn’t be until Jack was behind bars. If he did it, he had to believe that he’d get away with it somehow. “Did anyone else see him do it?” I asked. “Any of the other townies?”

“No. They only saw me standing over Timothy’s body. And then I drove him over to the hospital. I didn’t think the ambulance would get to Meek Springs in time.”

He was right about that. Once, mom suffered from appendicitis and she almost died because the ambulance took their sweet time getting into town. Dad went ballistic and drove her out himself. I stayed behind and held down the fort as he insisted I was the only one strong enough to do it.

“It’s your word against his,” I said. “What if they try to pin it on you? What if –?”

“I can’t think of what ifs, now, Chanel.” He raised a palm and pushed it toward me. “I’m sorry, but I need some time alone to sort this out.”

“That’s fine. I understand,” I said, and rose from the seat. “If you need anything from me, just let me know.” I didn’t bother asking if he managed to get his hands on what I needed, what he’d gone for in the first place. He was too stressed.

“I had one of the officers place your supplies and clothes in your quarters,” Ryan said, “I hope that’s suitable.”

He hadn’t forgotten. All this going on and he hadn’t forgotten me. “Thank you. I appreciate that. Seriously, Ryan, call me if you need anything.”

His desk phone trilled and I took that as my second cue to leave.

I slipped out of the office, just as Ryan snatched the receiver from its base. I shut the door behind me with a click, then leaned against the wood and inhaled, deeply.

Timothy was in hospital and on some level this had to be my fault. He’d had a crush on me and now he was in a hospital bed. “Wait a second,” I whispered, “how the hell did Jack even know about Timothy?” Surely, Ryan hadn’t told him. They were hardly friends and he spent most of his time with me prior to heading into Meek Springs. “Then how?”

I pushed off from the wall, burning up, now. This couldn’t be my fault. I didn’t want to take responsibility for what happened to Tim. He wasn’t a bad guy, even if he’d been a little pushy.

I charged down the hall, past men and women in uniform, heading in various directions. News of Jack’s incident had clearly spread. They rushed past, harried expressions on their usually blank faces.

I spotted Jameson turning the corner and heading toward me. She nodded again, but didn’t say a word. Perhaps, she was headed back to Ryan’s office to report on Jack.

I buried the mental question marks and streaked down the corridor toward my quarters. I bashed inside once I reached them, ignored the pile of requested goods on the floor beside my bed, and reached for my cell.

I dialed Paula’s number, then pressed the phone to my ear, dumping my portfolio on the table. The phone rang and I crossed my fingers. There had to be an explanation for this.

“Hello?” Paula yawned into the receiver.

“Did you tell Jack about Timothy?” I blurted it out because it couldn’t stay in any longer.

“What? What the hell are you talking about, ma? It’s like 2am.”

“It’s six,” I snapped, “and wake up quick, girl. Timothy’s in hospital?”

“What?” Paula squawked. That had her attention. “The Timothy? Timothy who likes you?”

“Yes, him,” I said. “Jack Whitmore beat him up last night. Did you tell Jack anything about him? About Timothy liking me?”

“What? Of course, not. Dude, I haven’t spoken to Jack since your first little romance with Ryan.” Paula slurped down water on her end of the line. “Ugh, do you think that’s why he did it?”

“Maybe, I don’t know. Ryan thinks Jack did it to get back at him. Shit, I probably shouldn’t even talk to you about this.” Baker certainly wouldn’t approve of me blurting it out. How many people knew about it? Likely, enough that rumors would spread around Meek Springs by the time morning coffee had cooled.

“I can’t believe it. Maybe he liked you, Chanel. What if he did it because he was jealous of Timothy?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know,” I whispered. “Listen, Paula, I’ve got to go. It’s chaos here at the moment. I’ve got to –” but what did I have to do? Work? How could I under these circumstances? I was worried sick about Timothy and what would happen if he didn’t recover.

“Say no more,” Paula said, “I’ve got to get up and get ready for work anyway. Be safe up there. Don’t let the super soldiers experiment on you.”

“Hilarious.” I hung up without saying goodbye. Paula wouldn’t mind, she’d understand the state I was in.

I sighed and sank into the chair in front of my desk. Gray clouds drifted past outside my window, a fine drizzle still fell, but the torrent of last night was gone, and there hadn’t been any snow.

Of all the things I expected would go wrong, this wasn’t one of them. What was I supposed to do now?

Chapter 20

Ryan

“What the fuck is going on down there?” Commander Shepherd never swore, but the word came out anyway, and with gravelly precision. “You’re asking me to have one of your Petty Officers arrested?”

“Yes, Sir,” I replied. I inhaled, then told the Commander what happened in concise sentences. I stuck to the facts and didn’t allow emotion to enter my voice, though it was a struggle.

Jack had committed a crime I couldn’t fathom – he endangered the life of a civilian. We were sworn to protect this country and its people. It was a vow I’d always taken seriously, but Jack, who’d gone through the same training I had, must’ve avoided that deep sense of obligation.

I continued the tale of what happened, down to the call I made to the local police, then cleared my throat to signal I was done.

“That’s it?” Commander Shepherd asked. “Boy, I thought we had a sexual assault case on our hands.”

“With all due respect, Commander, this isn’t something I take lightly.”

“Nor do I. Which is why I’m going to advise you call the police and instruct them to direct their energies elsewhere.”

“W-what?” I clenched my fist. He couldn’t be serious. “I saw him, Commander Shepherd. I saw Petty Officer Whitmore standing over Timothy’s body with my own two eyes.”

“But no one else did,” Shepherd replied. “Relax, Baker, I can hear you going into cardiac arrest from over here. Listen to me carefully now, we cannot afford to involve the local police in military business. Especially, when the situation in that backwater town is so volatile.”

“He beat the living crap out of him,” I said, then added, “Sir.”

“Language, Baker. And so you say, but we can’t put Whitmore behind bars until we have unequivocal proof that he committed the crime.”

“Sir, there’s a young man in a hospital bed in Cregton. If that’s not proof then –”

“A young man in a coma,” Shepherd said. “It would be very unwise to purport Petty Officer Whitmore’s supposed involvement in a crime when we don’t have physical evidence. As I understand it, the situation there is volatile.”

Good fuck, it was about to get a whole lot more volatile in a minute. I’d fucking explode and blow the roof off my office if Shepherd didn’t take this seriously. “Sir, I understand your concern, but Whitmore is an animal.”

“Then put him on the base. Confine him to his quarters. No leaving the officer’s quarters under any circumstance. Shit, Baker, I don’t care if you put bars on his windows. Do not let this get out of control or you will regret it. Do you understand, soldier?”

“Yes, Sir,” I said. “But I believe the situation is already out of control. As I said, those men witnessed me standing beside Timothy in the alley.”

“Yes, but they didn’t actually see Whitmore beating him, did they?”

“No?”

“Or you?”

“Sir, I didn’t touch –”

“Regardless, there’s no proof it was anyone associated with the United States Navy. Now, I will ensure that a full investigation is conducted into what occurred in that alleyway last night, Baker. I will ensure that the due course of justice is served, but I will not court-martial an active officer without good reason in the current political climate. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, Sir,” I replied, and resisted the urge to slam my fists onto the desk repeatedly like a fucking ape man. I understood, sure, but I didn’t have to like it. I saw what I saw, and that was Jack’s bloodied, split knuckles and the flash of triumph in his eyes. Did he know that Shepherd would respond this way?

“You have your orders now, Baker. Make this go away. Make it work. Or I’ll move you to somewhere else. You don’t need another incident on your record.” He hung up.

I slammed the receiver down so hard a chip of plastic flew off the side of the phone. “Christ,” I howled. It was the most out of control I’d been in years. This was utter bullshit. Whitmore viciously attacked a civilian, and I had to call off the search for him? Call off the cops?

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I muttered, and kicked my trash can.

A knock at my office door, and the knob turned.

“In, come in. What is it?” I yelled.

Petty Officer Jameson reappeared. “No sign of him, Lieutenant Commander,” she said.

It was a kick to the balls, only slightly less painful than the one Shepherd had just given me. “We have to find him. But first, put in a call to the local police and tell them that the military is going to handle this situation. He’s one of our own.”

“Yes, Sir,” she said. “Is there anything else?”

“Just keep looking. Keep fucking looking.”

Jameson saluted and left me in relative peace again. This was it. This was the thing that would finally push me over the edge and into oblivion. It was my word against Whitmore’s until someone actually proved otherwise.

I understood exactly where Shepherd came from with his concerns about the town and keeping everything on an even keel, but it still left a steely taste in my mouth. A tang that made me want to hock spit into my now-dented waste paper basket.

I shoved my chair back and stood up, pacing back and forth. For fuck sake, why had this happened? What in God’s name had possessed Whitmore to do something like this? It wasn’t self-defense or even provocation. He laid into that kid for the pure pleasure of it, or because he had some psycho-fuck agenda I couldn’t grasp.

Commotion outside my office and another knock, this one hasty.

“What is it?”

Jameson peeked around the edge of the door again. “Sir, Whitmore’s back. He’s here.”

“What?!”

“He just came walking back through the gates. The private on guard house duty called up a couple minutes ago,” she said. I’d never witnessed her feathers ruffled before today.

“Jesus H. Christ,” I said. “Go get him. Now!”

“Sir, yes, Sir.” She disappeared again, and I forced myself to breathe. If I didn’t breathe, I’d lay into Whitmore the minute I saw him. One punch and I was out. Dishonorable discharge without a question, because there’d be plenty of men and women around to witness it and report back to Shepherd.

Whitmore came back. What did that mean? That he thought he could get away with this? That had to be it. His cocky confidence extended to this too, apparently. It’d take time for them to bring him up from the first guard house, at least fifteen minutes.

What could I do to pass the time? Walk around in my office swearing under my breath?

Chanel popped into my thoughts instantly. The first reprieve I had from anger and she was there, an iceberg in the center of a swirling mess of fire and debris. I clung to thoughts of her and centered myself. She was on the base. She needed me to be calm and in control, just as the other soldiers here did.

I had to hold myself back. I’d manage this somehow, and if Whitmore had to be confined to the officer’s quarters so be it. I’d move Chanel out, if I had to.

The rumble of a truck and the fall of boots outside my office. The door creaked open. “Sir, Petty Officer Jameson is back.” A soldier I didn’t know by name.

“Thank you, private,” I replied, and walked around my desk and out into the hall. My pulse kicked into overdrive and adrenaline zinged through me. Tunnel vision. Shit, the anger thundered back.

I inhaled and exhaled. Even. Calm. Never lose control. You’re the one in command on this base. Do what you have to do. Stay fucking calm, Baker! For Chanel.

I rounded the corner and entered the main hall which looked out on the parking bay outside. Jameson hopped down from the driver’s seat of a truck. Soldiers exited with her, several of them walked around to the back and shifted the canopy aside.

And there he was. Whitmore exited the back, his hands unbound, with a full military escort. Even now, he sauntered. Shit, he tried to exchange pleasantries with the men on either side of him, but they ignored him flat.

The corridor fell silent behind me. Either the soldiers had cleared off or they stood watching, as stunned by Jack as I was. The man didn’t know shame.

He finally spotted me and the swagger faltered for a single beat, then slammed back into place. Jack Whitmore entered the building, grinning from ear to ear. “There you are, Lieutenant Commander,” he said, “I’ve been looking all over for you.”

The group of men and Jameson halted in front of me, waiting for instruction.

I couldn’t give it yet – my jaw was clenched so tight it was practically welded shut.

“You see, I hear that some poor kid got beat up last night after I left the bar. In fact, I hear it was you that did the beating, and that you’re trying to pin it on me,” Whitmore said, and flashed me a shit-eating grin.

“Lift your hands,” I said, coolly.

Confusion flashed across the man’s face. He raised them slowly and the split knuckles, the bruises along them, were clear to everyone in the hall. No one spoke or moved, except for Whitmore. “Shit, must’ve have banged them on something in my motel room.”

It was a lame excuse and Jack knew it. He couldn’t possibly worm his way out of this one.

“All water under the bridge, right? You took care of the one man who stood in your way.” Whitmore wouldn’t stop. He wanted me to hit him, but I wouldn’t grant him that wish even if it fucking tore me apart inside. “That kid was the one after your girl, right?”

This time one of the soldiers shifted, glanced at Jack askance. Rumors about Chanel had spread, then.

“That’s right. She was fucking that kid, wasn’t she? Timothy, right? And you took matters into your own hands.”

I cleared my throat. “Petty Officer Jameson, please escort Petty Officer Whitmore to his quarters. He’s not to leave them unless he requires a bathroom break or food in the officer’s mess hall. I want guards stationed outside his window and door at all hours. Is that clear?”

“Crystal, Lieutenant Commander.” Jameson saluted, then signaled for the convoy of soldiers to move out and down the hall.

“Is that it, Baker? I’m under house arrest? Boohoo,” Whitmore hissed. “I’ll be so sad being that close to your precious Chanel.”

The man had clearly cracked. Usually, it was active service that did that to a man, but Jack hadn’t done anything of the sort of late. I didn’t watch them lead him off to his quarters, but focused on the Rocky Mountains, the clouds, the shades of gray and blue on the horizon.

Calm. Everything would be all right. I’d get this sorted out, somehow.

Someone tapped me on the arm and I turned.

Chanel’s concern swam through my haze of forced control and retained anger. “Are you okay?” she asked. “He sounded – he sounds like he’s lost it, Ryan.”

“I know,” I replied. “It’s okay. He’s going to be under guard, and I’ll move you further away from him.”

“It’s fine, I’m two halls away. It’s not like he’s living next door to me,” she replied. “I’m not afraid of him.”

“No?”

“No. I’m afraid of messing up the presentation,” she replied, and tapped her pen against the front of her binder.

It was her way of distracting me and I appreciated it. “Do you need help with anything?” I asked.

“Oh yeah, actually, I’d love to get your opinion on a few fabric samples for some of the curtains,” she replied. “Do you have the time?”

Did I have the time for her? Always. “Sure. Let’s grab some lunch.”

Chapter 21

Chanel

I stayed late in the mess hall after everyone left. Ryan went back to his office because he had too much to handle after what’d happened with Whitmore and Timothy. I didn’t want to hassle him, and the fluorescents in the officer’s mess hall put me at ease.

It was likely because they reminded me of the first house we stayed in. Well, the first stable one. A clapboard home in Ohio, with a butter yellow kitchen too small to cook in, but big enough for homework at the pine table.

Mom did her best. Dad was home when he could be. Those were good times for me.

I shifted my empty tray to one side and focused on the laptop in front of me. I tapped on the keys, and pulled an image onto the slide. I’d created a presentation of mood boards, taken pictures of what the base looked like now, then put up the comparison of what I planned to do afterward.

Simple changes, not too costly, but ones that would make the world of difference for the soldiers here.

I picked up my coffee, slurped down some of the good stuff, then put it down again. Gosh, it wasn’t even that late. Seven pm if the clock on my desktop was to be trusted, but I could barely keep my eyes open.

Luckily, the creepy feeling in my gut had subsided. Whitmore wasn’t out there somewhere, he was under watch close by. He couldn’t hurt Timothy or anyone else, and all of this would be resolved in no time.

Everything would be just fine. I stifled a yawn. Shit, I’d have to call it a night and head back to my room for some sleep. I’d done an admirable job of resisting my baser urge to jump Ryan during lunch this afternoon, but a little fantasizing before bed wasn’t uncalled for.

I closed the lid of my laptop and got up.

Two soldiers appeared in the doorway, Jack Whitmore between them.

“Well, hello,” Whitmore said, and smiled at me. “Fancy meeting you here.”

I picked up my laptop, tucked it under one arm, then piled my coffee cup onto my tray and carried it to the front of the cafeteria, where the sliding glass counters waited.

“What, you’re too good for me now, Chanel?” he taunted. “You weren’t too good to talk to me before.”

“That was before you beat my friend’s face to pulp,” I snapped. I wasn’t able to keep it in. “You’re sick, you know that?”

“Oh honey, you have no idea,” he said, behind me.

“Quiet.” That was from one of his escorts.

“Touchy, touchy. I’m only kidding around. I didn’t beat him up, anyway, Chanel.”

I didn’t dare turn and look him in the eye. I didn’t have Ryan’s self-control. I couldn’t shove my emotions to one side and ignore the fact that he literally ruined a man’s life.

I trembled and hugged my laptop to my chest to guard it, and to keep my hands busy.

“You don’t have to believe me, but it’s true. I didn’t beat Timothy.”

“I don’t believe you at all. So save your breath.”

“It was Ryan. He got drunk, you see,” Whitmore continued and met me at the front counter. “He was really angry when he saw that kid there. Mentioned that he’d hit on you while you were in Ryan’s car.”

I gulped and made for the exit. I couldn’t listen to another second of it or I’d spew my dinner – greens and roast chicken – all over the tired gray tiles.

“He saw Timothy and he went nuts. He followed him outside. I tried to stop him but Ryan was possessed. I’ve never seen him that angry. He beat that kid into the ground. He beat him until he couldn’t move anymore.”

I’d already entered the hall, but Whitmore’s words pursued me. They tickled the tiny kernel of doubt that I didn’t know was lodged in the back of my mind. What if it was Ryan? After all, how could Whitmore possibly know about Timothy?

“Stop,” I whispered, and hurried back to my bedroom. I entered it and swung the door shut, cutting out the imaginary cackle that had followed me all the way there. Of course, Whitmore’s laugh couldn’t have chased me to my quarters. Of course, Ryan didn’t beat Timothy to within an inch of his life. Of course not.

“So stop being ridiculous and focus on now, here,” I said. I locked my bedroom door.

The first few nights, I’d left it unlocked in case Ryan decided to sneak in and pay me a ‘conjugal’ visit. Suddenly, I wasn’t in the mood for anything like that.

“Stop,” I repeated. But Whitmore had planted a horrible, thorny seed.

How well did I really know Ryan? He was a closed book. He hadn’t let me in at all, other than to enter me and fulfill my soul with his passionate lovemaking. But in between? He was nothing but confusion.

And didn’t Whitmore say that Ryan changed after he’d been deployed? That he came back a different man because he’d lost men.

This wasn’t fair to Ryan. He hadn’t done anything to hurt me or anyone else to my knowledge. And I couldn’t believe that I was falling for – oh God, yes, I had fallen for him – a man who’d actually accost someone who’d done nothing to deserve it.

But he was so jealous in the car. He drove off. I didn’t realized it at the time, but he seethed about it and now –

My phone rang and sliced the horrible train of thought down the middle. Thank God for that. I brought it out of my jacket pocket, then swiped my thumb across the screen. “Hello?” I walked the laptop over to my desk and set it down.

“Chanel.” My mother’s voice always sent a chill down my spine.

Once upon a time, it made me happy. Oh how times changed. Or was it people? “Hi, mom. What can I do for you?”

“What you can do for me is get your butt back to Meek Springs,” she said. Whoa, not pulling any punches today, apparently.

“Uh, what?”

“Timothy Meller is in hospital!”

“I know,” I said.

“He’s in a coma because – what did you say?”

“I know,” I repeated. “I know he’s in hospital. I heard about it firsthand when they brought in the man who did it.”

“That Baker fellow did it,” mom snapped.

“No, he didn’t. A man named Jack Whitmore did it, and –”

“That’s garbage in a handbag and you know it. You’re defending them instead of the people who really matter. The people down here in Meek Springs,” she replied. “Everyone’s talking about this, Chanel. Everyone knows that you’re up there with them. With him.”

“Mom, he didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Are you sleeping with him?”

“Jesus!”

“Language!”

The conversation lulled for all of a second.

“I won’t let my daughter become a hussy on my watch. And I won’t let her bring down our family name.”

This was ridiculous. “Mom, you’re jumping to conclusions, okay? I’m up here working. I’ve got that big presentation coming up and once I nail it I’ll have a huge customer on our list.”

‘Forget about customers,” she said, “if you don’t get back down here soon I’m going to close Scott’s Interiors. I only opened the damn place to give you something to do. I don’t need the money. I’ve got enough saved up for retirement.”

“Close the store? But you love that store.” This couldn’t be happening. “You have to understand that this is huge for us. It’s huge. Mom, you have to see reason in this.”

“All I see is you colluding with murderers and freaks. Everyone knows they’re doing something shady up there and now you’re part of it.”

I bit my lip to keep from screaming at her. “Mother, there is nothing strange going on up here. You of all people should know that, since your husband was a military man,” I said, in a measured tone. It still quavered but it was better than the alternative.

“Timothy is almost dead and those men are to blame for it. I know it was that Lieutenant Commander. He was here on the day it happened. On the afternoon of the protests. He probably saw Timothy out there with them and decided to get rid of him.”

“Stop it,” I said, and my voice rose at last. “Would you just stop! You’re being ridiculous. You have to stop blowing everything out of proportion! I’m fine, everything’s fine, just get a grip.”

“Young lady, don’t take that tone with me. Now, I want you back down here by tomorrow, understand? Back down here or I’m closing the store.”

“Mom, please, you have to give me more time than that. Give me a week, okay? A week to prove that everything I’m doing up here is totally innocent. I’ll get the contract and then you’ll see.”

My mother harrumphed, which was better than an outright ‘no’ but not by much. “I’ll check in with you tomorrow.” She hung up without a goodbye or an ‘I love you’ like a normal mother would.

I didn’t have anything normal anymore. I was out here on this damn base with a psycho who beat the crap out of one of the folks in Meek Springs, and with an equally crazy mother waiting for me at home. It was the definition of a rock and a hard place and the only saving grace in this whole thing was Ryan.

And my brain wouldn’t let me trust him, now.

My cellphone binged with a text message and I lifted it again.

Everyone’s really pissed, Channy. I’m scared. They’re talking about a petition or getting rid of the base. I think it’s serious this time. That from Paula’s cell phone.

I couldn’t muster up the energy to type out a reply. Christ, all I wanted was a chance to prove myself away from home, and maybe to be a little closer to the handsome and ever mysterious Ryan Baker, but everything had gotten muddled up along the way.

The enticement of creating something tangible for the men and women here to appreciate was worn away by the circumstances. The color in my life had gone as gray as the walls in this place.

I put the cell down on top of the laptop, then flopped down on the bed, exhaling the pressure, but failing to lift it.

“You can do this,” I whispered. “You can make it through this.” Dad would’ve believed in me. He would’ve encouraged me to carry on, to stay the course as he’d have put it. He’d tell me that there wasn’t an obstacle I couldn’t move or clamber over.

The scary thing was I was starting to doubt that it was true, and I’d never doubted a single word my father had uttered.

Tears came again and I plugged them with the heels of my palms.

“You can do this. You can.”

Chapter 22

Ryan

I spent the better half of the day thinking about Chanel, stressing that what happened with Timothy would scare her. Why did it matter to me? I was supposed to remove myself from the situation with her. We were calling this strictly physical, which should’ve been a dream come true – it would have been for most men – but it was my waking nightmare.

I halted in front of her closed bedroom door and knocked once. A sharp rap of my knuckles that actually made me wince.

It was pretty late. She was likely asleep by now, especially after the turmoil of the day.

“Just a second,” Chanel called out.

My insides twisted. So not asleep then. I checked my uniform was straight and dusted it off.

A click of the lock and she appeared in the crack between the door and the jamb. “Oh, hey,” she said, and stepped back to admit me.

Chanel’s eyes were puffy and a little red. Apparently, this had taken more of a toll on her than I’d realized. She wore nothing but a long-sleeved t-shirt and a pair of tights.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

“Yes, fine. Come in.”

I crossed the threshold, closed the door behind me then locked it again. “Are you sure? I know today was difficult.”

“You call putting Timothy in hospital difficult?”

“No. And I didn’t put him there,” I replied, and folded my arms. What was this attitude about? Usually, she was at least a little happy to see me, but she seemed tired and irritable tonight. “You know what? I’m sorry I bothered you. I’ll talk to you in the morning.”

“No, it’s fine. I’m exhausted, that’s all. I thought that being here would be the opportunity of a lifetime and its turning out to be the worst decision I’ve ever made.”

“Are you – tell me you’re kidding,” I said. I had stuck my neck out for her, after all. It wasn’t easy convincing Shepherd that a nineteen year old could take on a project this large, or that the project itself was even necessary.

Chanel walked to her bedroom window and looked out on the darkened shapes of trucks and utility vehicles. Lights illuminated the chain link fence encompassing the area. “It’s more complicated than I expected.”

“For you,” I said.

“Yes for me.” Her shoulders tensed up. “This isn’t just about you and your career, Ryan. I’m here too.”

“My career? What’s that got to do with it?”

“Oh come on, I know that you’re doing this in part because you want to look good to your superiors. And there’s nothing wrong with that. I just feel, I don’t know, I feel like I don’t belong here.”

“I don’t understand where this is coming from,” I replied. “A couple of hours ago you were excited about the presentation and the opportunity to prove yourself. Your words, not mine.”

“I was.”

“So what changed?” I couldn’t expect her to understand how things operated on a military base, but quitting wasn’t usually an option.

“Nothing,” she whispered, and bowed her head. She kept her back to me and frustration bubbled through my veins.

“Tell me.”

“Maybe I don’t want to,” she replied, then spun on the spot, hair flaring out behind her. “Are you sure it was Jack who hurt Timothy? And not – well, not anyone else?”

“Anyone else?” I blew out a thin stream of air. “Anyone else. Just ask me if I did it, kid, if that’s what you believe.”

“I don’t believe it. I just – my mom called me and she said that –”

“Oh your mom called you?” I stomped forward and halted right in front of her. “Oh, then it must be true, right? She’s a totally stable person.”

“Whatever.” She was gorgeous even in her anger, but it didn’t do anything for my own. God dammit, why couldn’t she trust me? I’d been a closed book, sure, but could she really expect me to spew my emotions all over the place. I wasn’t that person and I never would be.

“Well, I’ll leave you to sleep. Good evening.” I snapped around and made for the exit.

Chanel caught me by the forearm and tugged once. “Wait, Ryan, I’m sorry. I don’t think you did anything wrong, I’m stressed out is all. My mom phoned and said I have a day to finish up here or she’s going to close Scott’s Interiors.”

“What?” I looked back at her. The old lady had lost her mind.

“She’s worried about what everyone in town will think after what happened. They’re massing down there. They want to sign a petition to get rid of the base.”

When it rained, it poured in the Rocky Mountains, both literally and figuratively. This was the last thing I needed. I already had a fucking criminal under my watch, right down the hall from the woman I… I had sex with. “Okay, that’s fine. Thanks for the Intel.” I drew my arm from her grasp.

“Don’t leave,” she whispered. “Ryan, don’t leave. I’m sorry. I’m afraid. That’s the only reason I said any of that. I don’t believe you’re capable of hurting an innocent man.”

I squeezed my eyes shut for a second and the faces of my men flashed through the darkness. Hurting an innocent man? I was responsible for the deaths of more than one.

“Please don’t go. I need you.”

I focused on her again. “You need me.”

“More than you know. I need your company. I need your body. Did anyone see you come in?”

“No,” I replied. “It’s late.” Too late for most folks who woke at the crack of dawn here.

“So, stay with me for a while.” Her bottom lip quivered. Chanel’s strength was still there, but it was frayed. “Please.”

I stroked her hair and cupped her cheek. “Everything will be fine. Your mother won’t take the store away from you. She’s not that crazy.”

“It’s her store. She can do what she wants with it, and when she does, I’ll be out of a job. I’ll be stuck in Meek Springs forever,” she whispered, and tears streamed from the corners of her eyes and raced down her pale, soft skin.

I kissed one and then the other, licking the saltiness from my lips. “Don’t cry,” I whispered. “Please, don’t.” It choked me up seeing those tears, and knowing that they were a product of my actions. If I’d never taken Jack into town, or if I hadn’t gone with him, or – stop it, that’s done. There’s nothing you can do to change it or take it back.

I stroked Chanel’s impossibly smooth cheeks, running my index finger down the bridge of her nose, then wrapped my arms around her and pulled her into a tight embrace. “Don’t cry, baby.”

Chanel craned her neck and kissed the underside of my chin. “I need you,” she repeated. She kissed again, open mouthed, a trail down my neck to the collar of my uniform. “Ryan, I need you.”

“I’m right here,” I whispered, and clenched my teeth. “I’m here.”

“You know what I mean.” Chanel ran her hands down my torso and worked on the buttons of my shirt.

“If we do this –” Then what? It was hardly a new experience. We agreed it was physical and she operated within those boundaries. She hadn’t put pressure on me to step up emotionally, so why did I hesitate? Because although she might not have pressured me, I was already there.

I was falling for her. Shit, I’d already fallen.

I reached under the hem of her shirt and tugged the tights down her thighs.

She wormed herself out of them without stopping her mission to get my shirt open and off. Finally, she ripped my shirt back.

Cold air hit my torso, but I didn’t shiver. I grabbed her shirt and stripped it off, that special brand of heat we shared building. My dick was rock hard, already, throbbing against the inside of my pants.

The affect she had on me didn’t cease to amaze me. No one else made me this hot, this quickly.

Chanel kissed my chest and undid my belt, dragging it off. Then she unzipped my pants and dropped them.

We were fully naked in front of each other for the first time since we’d hooked up in the motel in Meek Springs. I traced the outline of her body, the curves of her hips, the ample breasts, with my gaze. I growled.

Christ, how could she be this perfect for me? I’d never had a perfect woman but she was it. I slapped both my hands on her ass cheeks and pulled her toward me, lifting her in both arms.

She held me by the neck, kissing me as I walked her to the bed.

I threw her onto it, then lowered myself on top of her, holding myself above her tight, delicious body, palms pressed against the standard issue Navy sheets. I sucked her bottom lip and inhaled her scent.

Soap, a hint of perfume, and that Chanel odor that filled my nostrils and drove me wild. I trail kissed down her chin, throat, and to her breasts. I forced them together in both hands, sucking the nipples and massaging her flesh.

She balled up her fists and beat them onto the mattress. “Yes,” she hissed. “More.”

I circled her puckered nipples, the tight pink areolas with my tongue, the same motion I’d used on her clit.

It drove her crazy. She dug her fingernails into my back and moaned, a little too loud.

“Quiet,” I hissed, then kissed a path back up to her lips. “Quiet, gorgeous.”

“Little hard.”

“Oh no,” I said, and took my dick in my hand, “it’s very hard.” I pressed my head into her moist, trembling folds, so ready for me. My eyes rolled back in my head, and I forced myself inside, all the way.

“Yes,” she said, again.

I sat up, still inside her, grabbed each of her legs and placed them on my shoulders. Lifted her ass, admiring the little pink clit peering up at me. I spat on it and she gasped.

“Ryan, you’re bad.”

And I’m yours. I pressed my thumb to her clit and circled it, using my spit as lubrication.

She arched her back and cried out again.

I bent forward, folding her almost in half, and placed my hand over her mouth. “Shush.”

She giggled against my palm. “Can’t help it.”

I plunged into her, one foot off the bed and braced for leverage. My free hand found her right leg and pressed it further back. I hit her exactly where she needed it, grazing against the spot inside her, causing her to yelp.

Chanel’s eyes widened, her eyelids fluttering with every thrust. “Come,” she said, against my palm.

I didn’t give her a reprieve. Just kept my hands on her mouth, and leg. I admired her pussy, my dick moving in and out of it, glistening from her wetness. I was so thick she looked ready to split.

She tightened around me, her breaths whistling from her nose, and against my skin. “Fuck,” she groaned. “Oh Ryan, oh Ryan.” Too loud again, but thankfully muffled. She climaxed and that warmth squeezed my cock, massaged it, over and over again.

“Christ,” I grunted. It was too much. “You’ve got such a tight pussy.”

Chanel threw her arms over her head and rolled through her climax, and I joined her. I pulsed and filled her again, even though I didn’t want to. I didn’t want this to end. My dick throbbed hard, once, twice, fuck it, five more times.

It was the never-ending orgasm.

Chanel fell quiet and studied me, her fingers laced around my wrist now, stroking the skin.

Finally, it was over, and I let go of her leg, removing my hand from her mouth.

“You’re amazing,” she said.

I lay down beside her and ran my fingers over her left nipple. I love you. “So are you,” I said, out loud.

Chapter 23

Chanel

I walked back and forth in front of the desk in my tiny office and glanced at the screen again.

“Shit,” I grunted, “shit, shit, shit. Come on, Chanel, focus.” I’d spent the last half an hour pacing and messing up every line in the damn presentation. I had to be ready with this by the time the Commander popped in to check on my progress.

I needed to impress or everything I’d worked so hard for would end up a distant dream. A fantasy I’d never fulfill. The trouble was it was so damn hard to concentrate with the memory of Ryan on top of me, my leg pinned back.

The sun had barely risen and I’d already scooted out of my room, because staying in there meant smelling the heady scent of his cologne. And that would equal even less focus on my part.

“Come on, you can do this,” I whispered. I put together the presentation myself, I picked out all the colors and fabrics, I planned every room to a tee. I owed it to myself to succeed, especially with my mother breathing down my neck.

Okay, relax. Start from the top. Don’t think about Ryan and the swirly feelings in your gut. “Yeah, that helps.” I rolled my eyes at myself, then grabbed the lukewarm cup of coffee from the corner of my desk. I slurped some of it back.

I spotted Jameson passing my office door, choked and sprayed coffee over my carpet. “J-Jameson,” I coughed.

The Petty Officer did a double take and returned. “Miss Scott? Did you call me?” A small smile of acknowledgement. I couldn’t help admiring this woman. She had the muscle tone of a panther, and dark skin to match. She was a total stunner, but she kept her professionalism up no matter the situation.

Part of me wanted to believe I could’ve been like her, a member of the Navy, gosh, not the SEALs, and made my father proud. But that wasn’t the choice I made and my dad was probably happy about it, watching over me.

He wouldn’t have liked the thought of me in danger.

“Everything okay?”

I coughed into my fist. “Yeah, sorry. Coffee went down the wrong pipe,” I said.

“Sorry,” Jameson replied, then fumbled in her pocket for a pack of Kleenex. “Here, you’ve got some on your blouse.”

I took it from her and removed a tissue, dabbing at the spot and silently cursing my idiocy. “Thanks. I just wondered if you’d heard anything about the Commander coming to the base. I heard he was supposed to turn up some time this week.”

“Nothing yet, ma’am,” she replied. “Is there anything else?”

I hesitated. “No, I just – what do you make of it?”

“What, ma’am?”

“What happened with Petty Officer Whitmore and Timothy, you know? The civilian.” I didn’t believe Ryan had done it, but I still couldn’t figure out why Jack had.

It was Jameson’s turn to hesitate. She looked back into the hall, then entered my office and shut the door behind her. “That’s a complicated question,” she said. “If I talk to you about this I’d like it to remain between us.”

“Sure, no problem,” I replied. What was I going to do? Run to Ryan and blab everything Jameson had told me? I had some integrity left, thank you very much. “What do you want to say?”

“It’s, well, Whitmore has always had an attitude problem. I was a couple years behind him, but we’re equal rank. What does that tell you?”

“So he didn’t climb ranks fast enough? Is that what you’re saying?”

“Whitmore’s always been friends with the Lieutenant Commander, but once he outstripped Jack in rank things grew complicated. Whitmore hated that his old buddy was above him.”

“Why?” I’d have been happy for Paula if it so happened that she had a successful interior design store that outcompeted mine. That was the mature approach. Healthy competition, friendship. Gosh, if I could figure that out at 19, surely Whitmore could grasp it at 30.

“When they were in training, Whitmore was the popular one. He was the one who broke records and, when they got a break, he was the one who got all the girls. I don’t think the Lieutenant Commander was ever focused on that kind of thing, but Jack was and he thought he was better. He thought he was the best, to be precise.”

“But he wasn’t.”

“No,” Jameson said, bluntly. “He was a showboat and too lazy for his own good. He slacked off and this was the result. The Navy promotes those who serve tirelessly and show their dedication to our country. Whitmore didn’t do either of those things.”

“So you think he’s bitter.”

“Yes, and I think he’d do anything to get back at his old friend for outranking him,” Jameson said, then ran her fingers through her short hair. “Look, the only reason I’m telling you this is because I know you’re involved to some extent.”

I cleared my throat and focused on the current slide up on my laptop screen.

“There are rumors that the Lieutenant Commander might be interested in you, and that’s none of my business, but I figured they were true when I saw the way you reacted to the storm and his late arrival back at base.”

“We’re friends,” I said, and left out the ‘with benefits’ part. “That’s all.”

“Whatever suits you, ma’am. I think it would be remiss of me not to warn you about Jack. He’s going to try something.”

“What? How do you know?”

Jameson shook her head and looked away in a brief moment of uncertainty. “It’s just a feeling. Be safe, Miss Scott.”

“Thank you,” I replied.

Petty Officer Jameson bowed out of the office and shut the door behind her. It gave me the quiet I needed to run over things in my mind. Whether I wanted to or not, I’d developed -

My cell trilled and I jumped on the spot and knocked the empty mug off the edge of my desk. It dropped to the carpet with a thump, but thankfully, didn’t shatter. I picked up my phone, nerves hopping in the center of my chest. But it was just Paula, thank God.

I swiped my finger across the screen. “Hello?” I answered.

“Hey,” Paula said, and she didn’t sound as enthusiastic as usual. “How are you?”

“Let’s just say I’ve been better. How are you?”

“Fine. Bored. Ready to get home and have a glass of wine, then fall asleep watching Desperate Housewives or a rerun of Friends.”

“Sounds like Heaven to me,” I replied. I didn’t want to just dump all my problems on her the minute she called me. It wasn’t fair. “So, how are things at work?”

“Save it,” Paula said, and chuckled to soften the blow. “Listen, we both know why I’m calling you and it’s not to talk about work or my lack of love life.”

“It’s that dry, huh?”

“Like the fucking Sahara Desert, girl. Now, I want to know what’s going on up there,” Paula said, “because apparently everyone in Meek Springs is expected to sign some petition thingie to make the base in the mountain disappear.”

“Yeah, I heard about that. Mom called me.”

“God help you,” Paula said.

“Did you sign it?”

“Hell no, I didn’t sign it. I’m not putting my name to that piece of trash idea. God, the people here are so dumb. Like, they can’t understand that maybe one of the officers was a total dick, not all the officers.”

“It was Whitmore,” I said. “It wasn’t Ryan.”

“What, who practically murdered Timothy? Yeah, I heard. Anyway, I don’t care what these assholes say or do. Do you know, Jerry threatened to egg my apartment if I didn’t sign?” Paula clicked her tongue as if it was the most absurd thing she’d ever heard. “My counteroffer was a kick in the nuts. He shut up real quick.”

“Good.”

“What’s it like up there?” Paula asked.

“Tense. Everyone’s on edge, and this Commander guy is due to show up any day and check on everything. And then I’ll have to give my presentation with Jack right down the hall.”

“God, I sure can pick ‘em, can’t I? Trust me to have wrapped myself around a violent asshole,” Paula said, and sighed so that the phone’s speaker crackled in my ear. “I really dodged a bullet on that one.”

“Yeah.” I sat down behind my desk and stared at the presentation slide, an image of what I planned for the base. “Totally.”

“How are things with you and Lieutenant Commander Dream Boat?”

“I don’t know,” I said, “okay, I guess.”

“Spill.”

I leaned my forehead on the cold wood of the desk and stared at the patch of carpet between my feet. “It’s complicated.”

“How?”

“I think I’m in love with him. Like properly in love with him. Like, he drives me crazy. He makes me –”

“No physical stuff, please, woman. I don’t need to know those details.”

“I wasn’t going to tell you, relax. I was saying that he makes my insides squirm. I’ve never felt like this about anyone before and I know that it’s hopeless,” I said. “I know that if I tell him how I feel he’s going to be freaked. Or worse, it will just be pointless.”

“It’s not pointless.”

“We tried the just physical thing because I didn’t want this to happen, but it happened anyway, and now, I’m pretty sure that I’m going to lose him.”

“What are you talking about?” Paula asked, her frown carrying through to her tone. “Why would you lose him?”

“Because either my mom is going to find a way to pull me away from the base and back to Meek Springs, or something’s going to happen here and it will be over.”

“It sounds like you’re being overdramatic,” Paula said. “There’s no real reason you shouldn’t tell him how you feel.”

“How about the fact that he probably doesn’t feel the same way? Or the fact that it would freak him out? Or the fact that he can’t give me what I need.”

“What do you need?”

“Love? Stability?” Ryan couldn’t offer me those things when he had so much of his own shit to manage. He had an entire base under his command and I cared about my feelings rather than his responsibilities. How selfish.

“He probably can provide those things for you. You just don’t want to believe it. Or you’re using at an excuse to avoid the conversation you should be having with him.”

“It doesn’t matter,” I said, “my problems don’t matter in comparison to his.”

“Stop being such a martyr.” Paula huffed out the sentence, but the words still stung. “You’ve got a terrible habit of doing that, Channy. Just chill, okay?”

“I’ll try,” I said. “I’ll try, but I can’t make any promises.”

“Just take the leap for once. Go speak to him, now. You don’t have to say that you’re in love with him, but tell him that you’d like more than just the physical. That you feel you guys might have the potential for something more.”

The very thought of that brought sweat to my skin. I licked my lips. “You know what? Okay, yeah. I’ll give it a shot. What do I have to lose right?” Except for my pride and possibly my sense of self-esteem. “Yeah.”

“Good, you do that. I’ll be here if you need me. Call and tell me how it goes, okay?”

“I will,” I said, “bye, girl.”

“Bye, girl, bye.”

I hung up and stowed the phone in my desk. This was it, alright. If I actually went through with this, everything would change, either for good or bad. I’d waited long enough. I had to grow a pair of ovaries and do it before I chickened out.

I undid the top button of my blouse, checked my bra, then headed out.

Chapter 24

Ryan

Every ounce of my control went into refraining from taking Whitmore’s head and ramming it into the steel table. If were another man, one who didn’t value his career and his future, I’d have knocked his teeth out by now.

Jack sat opposite me, wearing his trademark ‘I don’t give a fuck’ grin. He didn’t sit, actually, he slouched, his one arm resting on the table, too close for comfort.

I clicked my ballpoint pen and pictured ramming it into his hand. Fuck, this guy brought out the worst side of me, the violence I’d buried in my soul after what happened in the grit and sand.

“You going to talk, Baker? Or just sit there and click your pen until it spontaneously combusts?”

“Quiet,” I said, and slapped the table. Shit, that was one step too far already, and Jack’s subsequent smile told me as much.

“Quiet,” he replied, “but how am I supposed to tell you what you so desperately want to know if I’m forced to remain silent? Didn’t think of that did you, Lieutenant Commander?” He spat the last words out. The title. That was his problem, wasn’t it?

I had the title and he didn’t. But this wasn’t just a rank, it was a responsibility and it was something he’d never grasp, especially now that he risked a dishonorable discharge.

Two soldiers stood either side of the door behind Jack. They wouldn’t interrupt, but they would talk if anyone asked them what happened in this room.

Control. That’s all you need. Remain in control.

“Walk me through what happened on that night, Petty Officer Whitmore,” I said. This was the only way I’d get the evidence I needed from him before the Commander made his appearance and put pressure on the entire base.

“Which night?”

“The night you brutally assaulted Timothy Meller,” I replied, evenly.

“Oh, but you know all about that already, Baker.” Jack thumbed his nose. “We were both at the bar in Meek Springs, remember? We saw the kid standing there with his friends.”

“Yes, you saw him and you followed him outside.”

“I followed him?” Whitmore shook his head and I envisioned punching him for the third time in as many minutes. “No, I followed you. I followed you out into the alley and witnessed you beating Timothy to a pulp. How could you forget? Or were you too drunk to remember.”

“That’s not what happened,” I replied. “You left when I went to the bathroom. When I walked out to find you, you were standing over Timothy’s body. What was it you said to me?”

“I didn’t say anything.” Jack shrugged. “You must be under a lot of pressure, Baker. Aren’t you worried they’ll put you in prison when they find out what you’ve done?”

“You’re lying,” I said.

“Let’s call it a difference of opinion. Or rather, it’s my word against yours. Who do you think they’ll believe, Ryan? The man who’s toiled endlessly in the Navy, or the one who got all the men under his command killed.”

“Fucker!” I stood up, chest heaving. The controlled façade had already cracked. Christ, of course he’d know to bring that up. He’d been right beside me since I came back, listened to my sob stories about it.

“Sir,” one of the soldiers spoke.

“Yes?”

“There’s someone at the door, Sir.”

“Open it,” I replied, because the distraction would keep me from murdering this lying prick.

“Wonder who it is?” Jack twiddled his eyebrows up and down. “Maybe it’s that gorgeous Chanel. You know, the girl you’re boning on military time.”

I ignored that one.

The door opened and Petty Officer Jameson stepped inside. “Apologies for the interruption, Lieutenant Commander,” she said, and saluted. “I’ve got a call coming through for you from Commander Shepherd. Where would you like to take it?”

“Here,” I replied, and gestured for the soldiers to take Whitmore back to his quarters.

Jack chuckled. “Ooh, important call for the man who’s about to lose his station. You know I’m right, Ryan. You fucked up and everyone’s here to witness it.” The soldiers escorted him out, but he giggled all the way, as if someone had just told him the funniest joke in the world.

Every man and woman who enlisted was psychologically evaluated, but it wasn’t unheard of for a soldier to crack under pressure. I still couldn’t shake the feeling that this was a manipulation, though.

“Sir?” Jameson again.

“Oh, yeah, patch him through,” I replied, and sat down behind the desk. The stench of Whitmore clung to the insides of my nostrils. He wore that typical fuck boy cologne that scored him woman after woman whenever he had leave.

Jameson saluted and left, closing the door behind her, and I launched myself out of the chair and opened my windows before the call came through. Anything to get rid of the damn smell. My gray blinds rattled in the icy wind, but brought the fresh air I craved.

The phone rang and I lifted the receiver right away. “Lieutenant Commander Baker,” I said.

“Good morning, Baker,” Shepherd said, “I’m glad I caught you.”

A strange thing to say. Where else would I have been? “Is there something I can help you with, Sir?”

“How’s your investigation proceeding? Have you found any evidence indicating that Petty Office Whitmore is to blame for the crime?”

“Only that I saw it myself, Sir,” I replied.

“Not good enough and you know it, Baker. Don’t insult my intelligence by bringing that up again,” Shepherd snapped. “Now, tell me what you’ve done so far.”

“Sir, I’ve sent a small contingent of men to talk with the townsfolk. I figured it would be best to liaise with them as much as possible and improve relations,” I replied.

“And? How did it go?”

“Not well, Sir. They’re formulating a petition to close down the base and they won’t speak with anyone in uniform or out of it, for that matter.”

“Civilians,” Shepherd said, then muttered something indiscernible. “Any other progress?”

“No physical evidence, Sir, other than the cuts on Whitmore’s knuckles. I haven’t had any officers on the base, since you insisted we handle this within the military.”

“Good,” he replied.

“I have spoken with Petty Officer Whitmore but he insists on pinning the crime on me,” I replied.

“On you? Christ, this is a catastrophe in a teacup. Fuck’s sake. Fine, that’s it. It’s settled.”

“What is, Sir?”

“I’m on my way to the base. I’ll be there in the early afternoon,” Commander Shepherd replied. “Ensure that everything is ready when I arrive. I want a debriefing on the state of the base, as well as this presentation from your interior decorator. After that, we’ll handle Whitmore and what to do about him. And you.”

“Me, Sir?” My heart clawed it’s way up into my throat.

“You didn’t think you would escape disciplinary action, did you?”

“Sir, for what? I haven’t done –”

“Either one of your men attacked a civilian while you were with him, or you did. You understand how bad this looks after what happened with Mission Hubert. This needs to be dealt with swiftly.”

“Yes, Sir.” Fuck it, this was it wasn’t it? This was the end of my career with the military.

“Now, Baker, I don’t want you to concern yourself with the result of this too much. Focus on the base and making sure everything is adequately prepared for my arrival, understand?” Shepherd’s no-nonsense tone had run its course for me.

“Yes, Sir.”

“Good.” He clicked off the line.

I put the phone back on its base, then rubbed my eyes with the heels of my palms. So that was it, then. Whitmore had succeeded in bringing me down with him. In truth, what the hell did I expect? An easy way out of this? No, this wasn’t a fucking fairy tale.

Not only would I take the fall for what happened, but Chanel would likely suffer for it, as well. This was the point of collapse and I couldn’t say anything but that I brought it upon myself.

“Shit,” I whispered, and kicked the underside of my desk. “Shit!” I got up and charged to the window again. I slammed it closed and cut off the flow of air. Thankfully, Whitmore’s obtrusive scent had already dissipated.

I’d worked hard to make sure everything on the base was running smoothly. I was proud of what I’d accomplished here, and what I planned on accomplishing in future, but that was all on the line thanks to Whitmore’s fuckery.

I marched back to my desk and sat down, checking the time. It wasn’t long until noon, and it was my experience that Commander Shepherd always arrived earlier than expected. He loved the surprise factor.

Another rat-tat at my door. Christ, it was like Grand Central Station in here today.

“What is it?” I yelled, then inhaled and brought myself back from the brink. “Come in.”

Chanel entered the office, a weary smile stretching those too perfect lips. This was the last thing I needed. Being around her presented enough of a challenge already, without the prospect of Shepherd’s visit looming over my head.

“Hi.” She shut the door behind her. “I wondered if you might have a few minutes to speak about something. It’s important.”

“I don’t think so,” I replied.

Chanel wilted. “Oh. Okay.”

“Sorry,” I said, and guilt flashed through my veins. I didn’t want to take out my bad mood on her of all people. She’d been my anchor in stormy seas throughout this entire ordeal. She deserved better than me snapping at her. “I’m just tense.”

“Why? If I may ask.”

“Commander Shepherd’s on his way. He’ll be here in the early afternoon.”

Her eyes widened and she crossed the distance from the door to the desk in three great strides. “He’s finally coming? I’ll get to do the presentation. Ryan, this is good news. It’s great news.”

“Not really,” I replied, “since he might end up relieving me of my duty or having me court-martialed for a crime I didn’t commit.”

“What?!”

“I – Whitmore’s accusing me of having beat Timothy, as I’m sure you know, and there’s no evidence to prove otherwise. Either I’m going to take the fall for what he did, or I’m going to be punished in other ways.”

She shook her head on repeat, glossy hair flipping around her head. God, even in fear she was achingly beautiful. “They can’t do that to you. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“You mean apart from sleeping with you.”

She stumbled back a step.

“I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant that what we’ve been up to isn’t exactly the military standard, if you catch my drift.”

“Oh, well, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I wanted it too.”

“But you don’t want it anymore,” she replied.

“I didn’t say that. Look, I’m sorry, this is all coming out wrong, I just don’t need extra pressure right now with this shit hanging over my head.” I bent and rubbed my eyes again. “It’s too much to deal with.”

Chanel’s footsteps were muffled on the carpet. I didn’t track her movements, but expected the door to open and shut. It didn’t. Instead, her hands rested on my shoulders. “It’s okay,” she said, “everything’s going to be fine.”

“I’d love to believe that, but I know better.” This would be the day that ended my military career. I didn’t have any skills outside of this. I didn’t have a future without the Navy. What was I going to do, become a bouncer at a club?

“I promise,” Chanel said, “it’s going to turn out fine. I feel it in my gut.”

I was overwhelmed with gratitude. She was strong when I couldn’t be. What a woman. If only she was my woman.

Chapter 25

Chanel

I positioned myself behind his chair and placed my hands on his shoulders. “You need to relax.”

“How can I when he’s coming here?” Ryan’s fists rested on his knees, and he didn’t turn when he spoke. This had to be difficult for him, especially since it hadn’t been outright proven that Jack was the one to attack Timothy.

“Just forget about it for now. He’ll be here when he gets here, and the sooner he gets here the better.”

“How do you figure that?”

“Because then I can give my presentation and start fixing up the base. I’m ready,” I said.

Finally, he shifted in the chair and looked back at me out of the corner of his eye. “You are?”

“Yes, and I’m really happy with what I’ve done. I’m confident that this Shepherd guy is going to like it.”

Ryan grunted.

“Gee thanks.”

“It’s not that I don’t trust you, it’s that I know what a dick he is.”

“Don’t worry about it,” I said. God, I wanted the tension in his shoulders to dissipate. I massaged him, gently, then increased the pressure, running my thumbs down either side of his tan neck.

Ryan sagged under my touch. “That’s good,” he said. “You’re really good at that.”

“Thanks.” I didn’t tell him I only learned because my mom got killer migraines and she always asked me for help.

I ran my fingers through his hair next and worked on his scalp, turning his head this way and that with the lightest of touches. I bent and kissed him just above the collar of his shirt.

“What are you doing?” he asked, in a semi-sleepy voice, induced by the massage. “Door is unlocked.”

“Oh? Are you expecting anyone to burst in?”

“No, but it’s possible. If they see you kissing me –”

I spun his chair around and sank to my knees in front of him. “What if they see me doing something else?”

“Chanel,” he grunted, “you can’t do this to me. I can’t resist you.”

“You can’t?” I unzipped his pants and reached inside, then sucked in a breath. God, he was already hard for me, and pre-cum dripped from his head and wet my palm. Yes, this was what he needed, this was what we both needed.

“Someone could see.”

The more he protested, and they were totally weak protests, the more aroused I became. And more determined to taste him. I scooted forward, then brought my lips to his dick.

I didn’t lick him yet, just opened my mouth and exhaled, teased him.

He stared at me, stroking my crown, then down the back of my neck and back up again, mussing my sleek hair. “You don’t have to do this.”

“I know. I want to,” I said, “more than anything.”

Ryan lost his sense of reluctance as the words left me. He placed light pressure on the back of my head and forced my lips onto his dick. I opened my mouth wide and took as much as I could, jaw aching from the sheer girth of him.

He felt good inside my mouth. He tasted delicious, and my own juices dripped down the inside of my thigh.

“That’s good,” he said, and glanced at the door. “Fuck, Chanel, that’s so good.”

I plunged him deep into my throat, as far as he could go, then back out again and circled that ridge around his fat, throbbing head with my tongue. I’d never enjoyed this before him, but the tension in his leg muscles, the twitches, drove me wild.

He loved how it felt and I loved doing it for him.

“More,” I said, “I need more of you.” I worked his now wet shaft with my right hand and matched the rhythm with my mouth around his head, teasing that most sensitive spot which I knew would make him come.

He sat back and dug his fingers into the arms of his chair. “Fuck,” he said, “Chanel, wait, I’m going to come.”

“Good, I want you to come in my mouth,” I replied. “I want to taste it.”

“Later.”

“What?”

“After.” He grasped my elbows and lifted me into a standing position in front of his chair. Ryan worked my skirt up over my thighs and revealed the trail of wetness, the result of his flavor on my tongue.

“Oh yes,” he said, and parted my legs, then my lips. He ran his finger between them, then looped his arm around me, and buried his face in my crotch.

I lifted my leg to give him better access, and pulled his hair, directing him with tugs. “Uh-huh,” I uttered. Shuddering. My left leg threatened to collapse, but he held me upright. “Oh gawd.”

The slurping noises, his fingers probing my entrance. Fuck, I couldn’t handle much more of this. My ass tightened up, I forced his lips into me and came against them, groaning, bucking my hips.

Ryan let me jam all the way through my orgasm, then lifted me onto his lap and slid inside me in one swift motion.

I couldn’t put my legs on either side of the chair, but it didn’t matter. He had me. He gripped my hips and lifted me up and down, up and down, filling me up as he had before. That motion that I loved, and the fullness I’d never get used to.

I checked the door, hazy eyed, but it was still closed. If anyone walked past now, they’d hear the wet slap of our flesh, but I didn’t care. I needed him like I needed air.

I kissed him and tasted myself. My pussy tightened around him, an involuntary clench driven by the sheer pleasure of having been eaten out.

“You’re everything,” he said, and rammed me down again.

My legs trembled, and I held onto his broad shoulders, meeting his gaze. “What?”

“You’re everything, Chanel. You’re everything to me.”

Oh God, what did that even me? Did it mean he actually loved me? Or was this part of a game to him? I didn’t want to ruin the moment by asking. But he didn’t have anything to gain by lying about his feelings, so why would he?

“Look at me,” he said, and left me on his dick. He throbbed inside me. “Look at me, Chanel.”

I did as I was told, swallowed whole by his soulful stare. “What is it?” I whispered, hoarse from emotion.

“I’m falling for you.”

“Ryan!”

He kissed me before I could lodge another complaint. I circled my hips slow, moving with him and a deep burn of pleasure blazed between us. I breathed into his mouth, held his cheeks, worked myself back and forth.

“Get off,” he said.

“What?”

“You said you wanted to taste me.” Ryan grunted the words out. “Gonna come.”

I scrambled out of his lap and down onto my knees again, quickly taking him into my mouth again and sucked. He thickened beneath my grip and between my lips. Impossibly large. So big I could barely get past that ridge of pleasure.

Ryan growled, and pulled my hair, plunged me onto his dick as far as I could go, then released into my mouth. His cum tasted good, slightly salty but clean, and I swallowed as much of it as I could. More and more came, and it leaked out of the corners of my mouth, dribbling down my chin.

Finally, he pulled back, cock still throbbing, but spent. “Shit, you’ve got – uh, wait a second,” he said, and opened a drawer. He handed me a handkerchief. “Here.”

“Thanks.” I sighed and cleaned myself off, then handed it back.

He laughed and stuck it in the wastepaper basket. “Don’t know what I’m supposed to do with that.” He held out a hand and helped me to stand. I wobbled like I’d never used my legs before.

I moved around to the chair in front of his desk and plonked down, worked my skirt back over my thighs and covered all the important bits. “That was amazing.”

Ryan tucked himself away and zipped up.

“Did you – did you mean that? What you said during? That you –”

“Yes,” he said. “I’m falling for you. I don’t want to, but I am.”

“Wow, you don’t want to?”

“No,” he said. “I – listen, Chanel, I’ve been through too much for you to handle. I lost people and I don’t want to lose again.”

“Who says you’re going to lose me?” I asked, and my heart pounded against the inside of my chest, this time because I couldn’t believe he’d admitted any of this to me. This was some kinda pillow talk, minus the pillows, of course.

“I can’t see a clear path forward with everything that’s going on,” he said. “Commander Shepherd is coming and it’s not just for your presentation. He wants what happened resolved, and if I don’t step up to the plate and help him figure out what happened, I – shit, I don’t want to think about what it means for the future.”

I wrung my hands. I couldn’t keep the nerves at bay. “The future.”

“Yes. I’ve dedicated my entire life to the Navy. I’ve risen through the ranks because of it, but I don’t know what’s going to happen. Jack has tainted everything.”

“It’s my fault. If we’d never met everything would be fine.”

“It’s not your fault,” Ryan replied. “And if we hadn’t met I wouldn’t be this happy.”

My cheeks heated. He was happy. God, what was I, twelve? This was like the first crush I’d ever had, and it was definitely the first love. I prayed it would be the last.

Could I picture myself with him? Married to him? Yes, but I doubted that was what he wanted to talk or even think about.

“Thank you,” I said, “for everything.”

“Are you kidding? Thank you.” His grin brimmed with unadulterated joy. He’d never smiled like that before. It was as if that wall he constructed collapsed, for just a moment, and I could see all the way to his soul, to who he really was.

I loved him. But how would this end? I had to believe that it would work out, that Timothy would recover, and Commander Shepherd would approve the plans for the base.

“Everything will work out,” I said, out loud.

The smile disappeared instantly. “Maybe,” Ryan said, “but I’ll reserve judgment until I’ve spoken with the Commander.”

“What time is he due to arrive?”

Hurried knocks rattled Ryan’s office door.

“Yes?”

Petty Officer Jameson entered the room, neat strides and boots polished. “Sir, sorry, am I interrupting?”

“Not at all,” Ryan said. “What’s the problem, officer?”

Thank God she hadn’t arrived five minutes ago. She definitely would’ve been interrupting then.

“I’ve received word that Commander Shepherd has just landed on the helipad, Sir.”

My mouth went dry. “He’s here already? How? What?”

“Excuse me, Miss Scott. We’ll have to continue this discussion at a later date,” Ryan said, and stood up, fists clenched.

By some miracle, the front of his uniform wasn’t stained with our juices. He marched to the window and threw it open.

The tuk-tuk of a helicopter’s blades slicing air filtered in from outside.

“Thank you for your time, Lieutenant Commander. Good afternoon, Petty Officer Jameson,” I said, and rose from my seat. I nodded to them both then headed out of the door, nerves replacing the mushy happiness that had sprung up when Ryan admitted his feelings for me.

Commander Shepherd had arrived. I’d be called to present him my ideas soon, and my future as an interior decorator would ride on that. If I failed, mom would close the store, if I succeeded, I’d have a military contract that might end up launching my career.

And in the middle stood Ryan, neither available nor out of reach.

Why did life have to be this confusing?

Chapter 26

Ryan

Commander Shepherd was bald, tall, and walked like he owned everything and everyone in his path. He strode down the hall with me, as straight up and down as a street lamp, if street lamps had muscles and the power to end my career.

“This way, Sir,” I said, and turned into the corridor leading up to my office. My heart couldn’t beat any fast, my mind couldn’t handle what I was sure was about to happen.

“I see what you mean about this place,” Shepherd said. “It’s gray. Every inch of it is gray.”

“That’s right, Sir. I think you’ll be very pleased when you meet our interior decorator. She’s got some plans that I think you’ll appreciate.”

“One problem at a time, Baker. First, we have to discuss our course of action moving forward.”

I beckoned Jameson, who’d positioned herself outside my office door to await our arrival – just in case she was needed. “Would you like some refreshments, Sir?”

“Coffee,” Commander Shepherd replied, “as hot and black as you can make it.”

“Same for me,” I said, to Jameson.

The Petty Officer pushed off from the wall and rushed to follow the instruction. And then we were alone, me and my future.

I held the door open for the Commander, and he swept past me, owning the room and everything in it as well. He didn’t sit down in the chair in front of my desk, instead, he swept around to my leather backed seat and took his place in it, then gestured for me to sit down too.

I did as he commanded, and Shepherd drew a Cuban out of his top pocket and a cigar cutter with it. He didn’t offer me anything, of course. “No ash tray?” he asked, and studied my clutter-free desk with disdain.

“No, Sir. I don’t smoke.”

“Pity,” Shepherd replied.

Jameson chose that moment to return with an entire pot of freshly brewed coffee and two clean mugs. She brought cream and sugar too, bless her, since I hadn’t asked for it.

“Got an ash tray on this base?” Shepherd asked her.

“Yes, Sir. I’ll retrieve one for you.” Jameson hurried out again, leaving a wake of controlled panic behind her. Everyone at the base wanted to know what would become of them, and of me. I was pretty sure my Petty Officers didn’t want to see me in prison.

We waited for Jameson’s return in silence, and I tracked the movement of clouds in the azure sky outside the window. It was a perfect day, for once. The gray bank had cleared to reveal the beauty of the mountain beneath it. Light glinted off the polished trucks, and the water had all but dried on the concrete, leaving only little puddles and wet tracks from soldiers boots to and from them.

Shepherd didn’t admire the view. He tapped the end of his cigar on my desk and stared at me. I didn’t dare ask him what was on his mind. He’d tell me when he was good and ready.

Finally, Jameson reappeared with an ash tray and placed it on the desk in front of the Commander. “Here you are, Sir.”

“Thank you. Dismissed.”

She saluted, then exited the office and closed the door behind herself.

Plunged into silence again, but this time disturbed by Shepherd’s cigar cutter and the frantic thoughts that screamed through my mind. Questions that didn’t have answers yet. Fuck, I had to calm down.

Shepherd finally lit up and puffed acrid cigar smoke into the space above his head. I longed to open my windows again and let it out, but that would only fast-track my demise.

“Is everything on this base made out of metal?” he asked, and moved the tin ash tray closer.

I gave a feeble smile. “As I said, we’re working on that, Sir.”

“Let’s talk, Baker.”

“Of course.”

“I’ve got to tell you, I don’t appreciate having to come down here, having to cut short my plans to check on a base I thought I left in good hands.”

“It is in good hands, Sir.”

Shepherd let fly another cloud of smoke. “Yes, well, that was what I thought until this incident with the boy.”

“He was a young man,” I replied.

“Baker, I don’t care if he was a senior citizen in a tiara and ballerina’s tutu,” Shepherd snapped, “he’s in hospital thanks to your lack of control over the operations of this base.”

I sagged under the weight of the accusation. I thought I had everything under control. “Sir, apart from this one small incident, nothing has gone wrong.”

“Small incident? Why don’t you call this Meller’s parents and convince them that their son in a coma is a small incident. I’m sure that will go down well,” Shepherd replied, and balanced his cigar on the edge of the ash tray.

“That wasn’t what I meant, Sir.”

Shepherd waved that away. “I trusted you, Baker. No one else would touch you after Mission Hubert. They thought you were damaged goods, that the PTSD had addled your decision-making process.”

My jaw dropped. “What?”

“Of course, no one would say that out loud, but that’s the general attitude they had toward you,” Shepherd continued, “but not me. I gave you a shot. I wanted you to prove that you were more than a collection of bad memories. Apart from Hubert, your record is flawless. Stunning.”

“I know,” I said, and balled my hands into fists in my lap. This was worse than I thought. “Sir, this wasn’t something I could control. Whitmore went missing while we were in Meek Springs to fetch supplies.”

“Two questions,” Shepherd said, “where were you when he went missing? And why were you with him on a supply run?”

“Sir, I – we were in the local bar. Trapped because of a storm. And I went with him because –”

“You wanted to have a good time?”

“No! I’m not like that, Sir. I’m dedicated to my men. I went to fetch a few items of a delicate nature with which I didn’t trust Whitmore.”

“Then why was Whitmore in charge of a supply run?” Shepherd asked, and picked up the cigar again. He rolled it between his fingers. “If you didn’t trust him.”

“He – I – Sir, it’s not that I didn’t trust him in general, it was just that these were specific items requested by the interior decorator on the base. Requested directly from me.”

“So? You’re the commanding officer here. Why would you go yourself?” Shepherd asked, and narrowed his eyes at me.

“Because I had my suspicions about Whitmore prior to this trip, but I didn’t have enough evidence to act on them. I believed that he was envious of my position at the base and wanted to discredit me. He also expressed ill will toward the operation to revamp the base’s interior and believed it to be a waste of time.” I took a deep breath. I couldn’t let on how I felt about Chanel. Whitmore would certainly blab that part to the Commander as soon as he got the opportunity. “I was concerned that he’d attempt to sabotage her work.”

Shepherd puffed on the cigar and studied me through a curtain of smoke. “The situation would’ve been better controlled if you’d swapped him out on the roster for someone else.”

“I understand, Sir. Hindsight is 20-20.”

“I agree on that point,” Shepherd replied, and killed the cigar in the ash tray this time. “I believe this was a slip up. I believe that Whitmore is probably out of control and your suspicions were likely correct, but that you made a series of ill choices leading up to this point.”

“Sir, you’re not suggesting that I could’ve stopped Whitmore from –”

“This isn’t a debate, Baker.” Shepherd sniffed, then brushed his fingertips along the edges of the desk. Finally, he halted at the corners, then placed his elbows on the surface. “I’ve made my decision.”

“Regarding what, Sir?”

“Your position on this base. Your station as Lieutenant Commander.”

I held my breath.

“I don’t believe you were prepared for this responsibility. You’re more than capable physically, mentally, but emotionally? I believe this was too much for you and your judgment has been clouded. I’m well aware that Whitmore was your friend. I believe you went easier on him than you could have.”

I listened intently, still unable to breathe or move. Christ, was this the end for me?

“I’m going to have you reassigned to another base. Hawaii, most likely. You’ll be taken back down to the rank of Petty Officer until you’ve shown that you’re ready to progress.”

The room swayed, the walls curved inward. This couldn’t be happening. I’d worked damn hard to keep this base running smoothly, to provide for everyone here.

“It will do you good, and it will ensure that the people in town realize that action is being taken up here.”

“Sir, if you want to take action throw Whitmore in prison. He’s the one who did this.”

“As I said, this is not a debate, Baker.” Shepherd’s pitying gaze hardened up. “I want you to be evaluated again, as well. And after that, you’re going to see a psychologist weekly. Once you’re in Hawaii.”

And that was that. I’d already been relocated.

My thoughts darted in every direction, and came to rest on Chanel. I had to leave her. I’d fallen in love with her and I had to leave her here, with her overbearing mother and a town full of yokels who believed in super soldiers and– Jesus, no!

I gripped the edge of the desk. “Please, Commander, give me another chance to prove myself.”

“No,” Shepherd said. “The decision’s already been made. Now, please fetch this interior decorator so I can hear her presentation.”

I forced myself to stand, to move my legs. One foot, then the other toward the door. I stopped and opened it, then looked back at Commander Shepherd. “Sir, the presentation will take place in the conference room. Jameson will escort you there.”

“Very well,” he said.

I left him there and strode down the hall, shaking on the inside, screaming. It wasn’t that I cared about the rank or the demotion. It wasn’t the base I’d worked to build up. It was leaving Chanel behind.

Three minutes later I was in front of her office door. I knocked once and she opened up.

“Hey,” she said, and smiled up at me, but it faltered. “What’s wrong? You’re pale.”

“Commander Shepherd is waiting for you in the conference room.” The voice came from me, but it was detached. My mouth said the words, though I hadn’t thought them. “It’s time for your presentation.”

“Okay, but you’re freaking me out, Ryan. You’re speaking like a robot. What’s going on?”

“I’ve been reassigned. I’m leaving for Hawaii.”

“W-what?” Her face fell. “No, that’s not right. You can’t leave.”

I shrugged. I couldn’t say anything else. I wanted to hug her pain away, kiss her lips and dissolve into nothingness with her, but it would only make things worse when we had to leave. She wasn’t prepared for a life in the Navy.

I wouldn’t have her moving around the countryside with me, and she probably wouldn’t want to. She might not like it in Meek Springs, but at least she had stability.

“Ryan, you can’t go,” she whispered, and her bottom lip shook. The cards she was holding, the ones for her presentation, slipped from her grip and scattered across the floor. “Please, I can’t – don’t leave me. Please.” She reached for me.

I backed up two measured steps. “Commander Shepherd is waiting for you,” I said, then I turned and walked off, back to my office to pack my things. I didn’t know how much longer I had, but if I spent it with Chanel, it would destroy me when I had to leave.

A piteous sob echoed down the hall.

Chapter 27

Chanel

The contract was mine if I wanted it. Commander Shepherd loved my presentation, though I’d given it teary-eyed. He probably thought I’d lost my fucking mind, and he was right about that.

I’d lost not just my mind, but my heart and soul. I was in love with Ryan, and he said he had feelings for me too, but it couldn’t continue. Images of us streamed through my consciousness. Our bodies moving together, his smile, the sound of his voice and the taste of his skin.

Gone, all gone. When did he have to leave? He hadn’t even told me.

But I had the contract. I could stay on the base and fix it up. Avoid my mother and make things right here for people I barely knew. Stay after Ryan was gone, and Whitmore remained in his makeshift holding cell down the hall.

“No, no, no,” I whimpered, and gripped my arms. I stood in the center of my office, staring into nothingness.

Surely, he wouldn’t leave me here? God, it was such a desperate thing to think – that I needed him here with me, instead of letting go of what we’d developed. After all, my entire goal in coming here was to get away from my mother and to create an opportunity for myself.

An out.

My cellphone rang and I didn’t register it for a moment, continuing to stare instead. Ryan Baker would leave me behind. I’d lose him just as I’d lost my father. I’d return to Meek Springs and become the nobody my mother wanted me to be.

Finally, I drew the phone out of my jacket pocket and answered. “Hello?” My voice was hoarse.

“Chanel, I’ve tried calling you three times in the past half an hour,” my mother said, “where have you been?”

“I don’t know,” I said.

“What? What are you talking about?”

“Nothing.”

“You promised you would call me.”

“Sorry,” I said. I didn’t care, really. I didn’t care about much at all. I sank to the floor and laid my legs out in front of me, staring at the toes of my heels. “What’s up?”

“What do you mean, what’s up? I gave you a week to come back to town and you’re still not here.”

“I told you I couldn’t leave, mom. I had to do the presentation for the Commander of the base.” I clawed for sanity, and brought myself back from the brink of a mental breakdown. My father would’ve expected more of me than to fall at the first hurdle.

I was Chanel Scott. I had to keep it together. I had to –

“I’m disappointed in you, Chanel,” my mother said, softly. “I thought you understood what was required of you when I started the business.”

“You required me to work and find clients, and keep food on the table.”

My mother huffed. “You don’t have to put it like that. I carried my weight, girl. I made the initial investment, and, so far, you haven’t paid me back for that. I gave you the creative freedom to live and enjoy yourself in Meek Springs. What happened?”

Creative freedom? She hadn’t given me anything but a gilded cage, and she held the key to it.

“Well?”

“I got the contract,” I said. It had to mean something to her. Or something to me? I hadn’t even decided whether I was staying here. If Ryan left and I returned to Meek Springs, I’d be in the exact same position I was at the start of all this, but staying? That felt worse somehow. “Mom?”

“I’m here, Chanel.”

“Did you hear what I said? I got the contract.”

My mother sighed for the fiftieth time, at least. “What contract?”

“Damn it, with the Navy, mother. With the fucking Navy! What are you stupid?!” I erupted. It was disrespectful and totally inappropriate, but I didn’t give a shit anymore. I was done.

“What did you just say to me?”

“I asked if you were stupid. Or maybe you’re deaf. Or maybe it’s that you never listen to a fucking word I say because you’re only concerned with your own life and your own agenda,” I yelled. “Well, I’m done with that. I’m done with you.”

“Young lady, if you don’t moderate your tone I’m going to –”

“You’re going to what? Shut down Scott’s Interiors? Go ahead. I don’t give a flying fuck anymore. I am so damn tired of being trapped in that house with you. I can’t breathe without you looking over my shoulder. I can’t even think without you checking in on me.”

“Chanel!”

“Do you know, I stopped keeping a diary because I was afraid you’d go through it?”

Silence on the other end of the line.

“I have to hide things from you, because if I don’t you’ll flip out and threaten to disown me. What kind of mother does that? Huh?”

More quiet. And then a strange noise, one I hadn’t heard from my mother in years, not since my father died. A sob.

“I thought you loved me.”

“I do,” she hissed.

“Bullshit. If you loved me you’d let me go. You’d give me the freedom to be who I want to be.”

“I do love you, Chanel. But I can’t trust you,” mom said, “and I know if I do, I’ll end up losing you like…” She cut off, replacing the sentence with a strangled hiccup of sorrow.

“What?”

“I won’t lose another family member, understand?” Mother’s tone sharpened.

“You’re pushing me away,” I said, “don’t you see that? Every time you try to pull me closer it only ends up pushing me further away. I – I won’t come home.”

“You won’t.”

“No,” I said, “I’ve got this contract and if I have to fulfill it on my own, so be it. I don’t need your backing or your faith to do it.”

“You can’t stay up there with them much longer,” mom replied.

“What do you mean?”

“The townsfolk have already started a petition to bring down that base. It’s only a matter of time before they close it. It’s not safe up there.” She didn’t sound excited about it, but it had to be a happy occasion for her. “Chanel, there are indecent rumors about you and one of those officers. The one who came to the house. The one who nearly killed Timothy.”

“He didn’t do that,” I snapped. “It was Whitmore.”

“I don’t know or care who that is. All I care about is that you stay safe and don’t get involved with a murderer.”

“He’s not a murderer.” And I loved him. “He’s a wonderful person.” And he was leaving me anyway.

“Stay away from him.”

“You can’t tell me how to live my life anymore, Mother. I’m not a child.”

“You’re not even old enough to drink! Your father wouldn’t approve of any of this,” she said.

“And you think he would approve of you keeping me locked up for years? Acting like I’m some type of maniac for wanting to have a semblance of a life.”

“Your father always did what was necessary. What was best for you and for me,” she said. “And I intend on holding to his memory.”

“Dad wouldn’t approve of this,” I said.

“You’re not listening, Chanel. I want what’s best for you as I always have, and you won’t be able to function in Meek Springs if you –”

I hung up before she could get the rest of the sentence out. I didn’t want to hear her crazy opinion about Ryan or any of the other soldiers.

My mother hadn’t given me much of a choice. If I left and returned to Meek Springs I’d have to live with her. Paula couldn’t put me up and I couldn’t afford to pay rent. Taking the contract would mean staying here, while Ryan left to God knew where, but it would also give me a chance at a future free of Henrietta Scott and her plans to keep me chained to her hip for the rest of my life.

A knock at my door, and I scrambled up from the carpet, hope burgeoning in my chest. Please, God, let it be him. Let him be here and tell me that this is all a joke or the plans have changed or… or something.

I placed my phone on the desk, straightened my blouse, then strode to the entrance. I turned the doorknob, opened up, and met the stare of Officer Jameson.

“Oh,” I said, “hello.”

“Good afternoon, Miss Scott,” she replied. “I’m sorry to bother you this late in the day.”

“That’s fine. Uh, come in, come in.” I shuffled back to allow her entry.

“That won’t be necessary, ma’am. I’ve come on behalf of Commander Shepherd. He’s asked whether you’ve accepted the contract or not. I’m afraid he’ll need an answer before he leaves.”

“When’s he leaving?” I asked, and steeled myself for the answer.

“Tomorrow morning, Miss Scott.”

“Oh. I see.”

Petty Officer Jameson opened her mouth, then shut it again.

“What is it?” I asked.

“I heard that the Lieutenant Commander is being relocated,” she said. “I know that you were close with him.” She lowered her voice. “Just hang in there. Everything will work out. He’s a tough nut to crack, but once you get through to him, things will be easier.”

Did she mean Commander Shepherd or Ryan? I bit my lip and worked everything over in my mind. I couldn’t cling to him any longer. He made it clear this was physical from the start, and I let myself fall in love in spite of all of that.

To spite myself, in fact. Ridiculous – I should’ve stuck to what I knew, decorating and pretending I had control over my life and what happened in it.

But the last time with him, in his office, he’s said he was falling for me. He didn’t want to, but he was falling for me. And now this was happening, and the extent to which he really felt for me was exposed.

If he truly cared he’d at least have… talked to me first? Maybe explained how he truly felt instead of informing me in that flat tone that he would be shipped out and I’d stay behind with a broken heart.

“ – the last thing he wants,” Jameson said.

“What? Sorry, I was miles away. What did you say?”

“Baker will do this because it’s commanded of him, but it’s the last thing he wants. I know that there’s something between you two, I don’t know if it’s more than friendship, but if it is, hang on to it. Dig your claws in.” Jameson’s eyes were expressive. “I lost someone once. Long ago. It was my fault. I let go. Don’t let go.”

I gulped but the lump in my throat didn’t budge.

“I’ve overstepped my bounds. Apologies, Miss Scott.”

“No, it’s fine. Thank you for saying that. And thank you for the advice,” I said, “I’ll do whatever I can to – I – I’ll do what I can.” I couldn’t make him stay. I could ask, but I couldn’t make him stay for me.

He had his orders and that was that. It wasn’t as if he could tell Commander Shepherd that he’d decided not to leave. That would be it for his military career and I didn’t want that on my conscience.

Or did I? Maybe, Ryan wasn’t happy in the Navy anymore.

“Have a good evening, ma’am,” Jameson said, and saluted. She marched off and I stood there, staring into the space she left behind, and the gray wall opposite.

Jameson had helped me more than she knew, and I was going to repay her by leaving because Ryan wouldn’t be around anymore? No. That wasn’t who I was. That wasn’t how my father raised me.

Movement flickered in my peripheral vision and I turned my head, then inhaled, sharply.

Ryan strode down the corridor toward me, eyes hard, uniform buttoned and neat. He halted in front of my door and tucked his arms behind his back and planted his feet. “I need to speak with you, Miss Scott,” he said, and the professionalism actually hurt. “Do you have a minute?”

Chapter 28

Ryan

I wasn’t able to stop myself from coming, regardless of how much I needed to distance myself from Chanel. I’d openly told her that I was falling for her, and that I didn’t want to. I owed her an explanation.

I’d promised myself I wouldn’t care again because it would only end in pain. I was right about that.

“Come in,” Chanel said, and backed away from the door.

I hesitated, glanced past her at the carpet, the phone on the desk, and the quiet skies outside the window. Shepherd hadn’t left yet, but when he did there’d be an organized frenzy outside, soldiers preparing for the departure. It wouldn’t be the same when I left.

Chanel examined me, her heart-shaped face upturned. “Ryan?”

I walked into her quarters and shut the door behind myself. The heat of being close to her got to me, and I struggled not to retreat again. “I owe you an explanation and an apology.”

“Of all the things you owe me those two are the last,” she said, evenly.

Her eyes were red and puffy – it hurt knowing I’d caused it. I didn’t want her to break down because of me. I cleared my throat. “I told you I was falling for you,” I said, “and that was wrong of me. I shouldn’t have led you on.”

“Led me on?”

“Yes,” I said, “led you on. Nothing could ever have happened between us and it was wrong of me to let you believe that it was a possibility.”

“Trust me, you were clear all along that it was the last thing you wanted.”

She was bitter and there wasn’t anything I could say to change it, but I had to try.

I walked past her to the window and rested my knuckles on the sill. The sky allowed for watery sunlight, and a grouping of fluffy white clouds drifted across the endless blue. What it had to be like, that sense of aimlessness.

“I’m sorry for hurting you.”

“Then don’t do it,” she said. “Don’t leave me.”

“Chanel –”

“No,” she said, and came up behind me. She didn’t touch me, though she was close enough that her breath feathered across the base of my neck. “No, don’t give me that bullshit about leaving again. You know that you’re meant to be here. You care about the people on this base, otherwise why would you have wanted to have it redecorated?”

I bowed my head and stared at my white knuckles, willing my heart to stop beating a mile a fucking minute. Why did she do this to me? “I don’t have a choice. I have to leave.”

“But –”

“I have to leave,” I grunted, and spun around to face her again. God, she was close – I picked out the teardrop that clung to her eyelashes, and pictured smoothing fingers over her soft skin, tasting her lips and making the pain disappear.

“You don’t have to leave. This is a choice you’re making. I – even if you did leave… I could come with you?” She phrased it as a question and trembled, terrified of my judgment.

“No,” I said. “You don’t understand what it’s like to lose something you care about.” Flashes of pain and dust, grit, and screams. Blood. “I have to make tough decisions like this, and if I let you come with me it will only end in tears. What happens when I’m shipped out again, somewhere worse, somewhere more dangerous?”

“I’m not afraid.”

“You can’t follow me across the world. What happens when I’m deployed?”

“There are plenty of wives and girlfriends who stay behind,” she said, and squared her shoulders.

“I won’t let you have that life. I know what it’s like, moving from home to home, base to base. I know what it feels like to be uprooted. I’m a soldier. Do you know what that means?”

She opened her mouth, no doubt to lodge another complaint or rebuttal.

“It means I’m a tool.”

A frown, and she snapped her teeth together with a click.

“I do as I’m told and I go where I’m needed. Duty is a heavy burden to bear, but it’s one I will bear for this country to keep it safe.” To keep her safe too.

“You’re going to keep the country safe from Hawaii?” She raised an eyebrow, a hint of that sassiness showing again. I loved that about her.

“You wouldn’t understand.”

“I do understand,” she said, fiercely.

“No, you don’t. Don’t bother trying to convince me,” I replied, and waved a hand. “This was unbelievable. Being with you is a memory I’ll treasure. I have to leave, though, and there’s nothing that will change that. Orders are orders.”

“But –”

“Nothing will change,” I reiterated. I softened up despite my fear of caring and losing again. I let this woman into the personal space I’d walled off long ago, and it weakened me.

We stood inches apart, staring each other down.

“You’re so God damn stubborn,” she hissed, and anger flashed in her expression. “Why won’t you listen to me?”

“Because it’s an exercise in futility, ma’am,” I said.

“But I – we’re –”

“We had our fun,” I said, stiffly. If I had to hurt her to get her to back off… no, I didn’t want to hurt her. I couldn’t. “It’s over now, the fun is over. Duty calls. You got the contract, didn’t you?”

She pressed her lips into a thin line. Fierce and beautiful. I itched to kiss her again.

It was the strongest sensation, a tug behind my navel forcing me closer and closer, but I resisted it.

“Miss Scott?”

“Now, I’m Miss Scott?” she said. “So, that’s the way you’re going to play it? Put up a professional front like what we had was nothing but a few fucks on the base?”

“Keep your voice down.”

“Why? Are you that ashamed of what happened between us?” Chanel tapped her heel. “Oh, I know, I know, you stand to lose everything if they find out, right?”

My eyes widened.

“For fuck’s sake, don’t worry, I’m not going to out you to your superiors. I’m not a total creep.” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “I just think it’s ironic that you’re so dedicated to the military but you risked everything when you got together with me.”

I had, but I didn’t tell her why. It would only make the pain worse.

Chanel had changed my life. She’d helped me realize that I had the potential to be more than just that tool. Just when I thought maybe, just maybe, I could have more than this base and that profound sense of duty, the Commander offered me a swift kick to the ass and a wakeup call.

“It was a mistake,” I said.

Her eyelids fluttered and she lowered her gaze. “A mistake,” she whispered. “That’s all it was to you? A mistake? So, you lied when you said you felt something for me.”

“No, but I was irresponsible to say it when this was the only end it could reach,” I replied, evenly as I could manage. “I won’t let either of us fall because of what we did. I’ll leave and serve as I’m meant to. And you’ll – did you get the contract? You haven’t answered me, yet.”

She kept her head down, but her shoulders shook.

“Chanel,” I said, softly.

“I got the contract,” she said, at last, her voice quavered. “I got the damn contract, but my mother is closing the business because of it. There’s a petition in town to push out the base. An uproar.”

“They won’t succeed, and even if your mother closes the store, you can start your own one. You have the contract here, you can take the money you earn to start something of your own.”

She looked up then, but there wasn’t a hint of excitement in her. “Okay,” she said. “Whatever.”

“This is what you wanted, isn’t it? To get away from your mother? That’s what it seemed like.”

“This was what I wanted,” she whispered, but it wasn’t really a confirmation, only an echo of my words. “This was what I wanted.”

“I have to go now.”

“When are you leaving?” she asked.

“Two weeks,” I replied.

Chanel straightened and blinked at me. “Two weeks?”

“And in those two weeks we’re not going to see much of each other. I’ll be busy here, prepping my predecessor. And I have to deal with Whitmore. Understand?”

She didn’t acknowledge what I said, but finally backed off. She walked to her desk, pulled the chair back and sat down, then drew the cellphone toward herself. She fiddled with it, opening up her messaging app.

“I didn’t want you to get hurt, Chanel.”

“Right,” she said. “That’s fine. If you’ll excuse me, I have to get to work here. I need to contact my suppliers and get started on the revamp for the base you’re abandoning.”

That stung, even though she had to know it wasn’t the truth. “I wish you all the best,” I said, formally.

“Same to you.” That came through gritted teeth.

I turned on my heel and marched from the room, leaving the door slightly open behind me. That had gone as terribly as expected, but at least I had a better handle on the situation. I had to leave my feelings for Chanel behind when I left. This was the first step to doing that.

I walked on confident that I’d made the right decision, but doubts crept in. I turned the corner and continued down the corridor, hesitated, started walking again, then stopped.

“Fuck.” Had I done the right thing? I was torn between duty and love, a first for me.

Footsteps approached from the far end of the gray passage and Petty Officer Jameson rounded the corner. “Good afternoon, Sir,” she said. “Are you well?”

“Jameson,” I said, and licked my lips. “Aren’t you supposed to be with Whitmore, right now?”

“No, Sir. Not according to the schedule,” she replied.

I’d written that schedule myself, and it was definitely her slot. “Then who’s with him?”

“I believe that Officer Wyatt is with him, Sir. That’s what I read on the timetable.”

“Officer Wyatt is off base collecting supplies, Jameson.” My heart sank into my stomach. How was this possible? Had Whitmore somehow managed to change the schedule? No, this had to be a clerical error.

Perhaps, the pressure had addled my mind and I’d made this rookie mistake. One that could cost me more than just rank. Whitmore was a damn maniac.

“Sir?”

“Walk with me, Jameson. We need to check Whitmore, now.” I led the path down the corridor, boots tapping on the tile. Jameson kept pace beside me, her jaw clenched.

She didn’t like this either, and I threw out my doubt. No way had I messed up that schedule. Someone changed it, and it had to be Whitmore’s involvement that led to that change.

We entered the passage leading up to his quarters. No guards outside. No guards inside. And no Whitmore.

“Christ,” I muttered. “Find him. Jameson. Full alert. Find him before he hurts someone else. And for God’s sake, try to keep panic to a minimum.”

“Yes, Sir,” Jameson said, and rushed out.

My intestines writhed like snakes, twisting, snapping at each other. Where was the first place Whitmore would go? My office? Perhaps, he’d seek me out for revenge. But then, he knew exactly where to go if he wanted to exact the worst revenge of all.

“Chanel,” I grunted, and sprinted for the hall.

Chapter 29

Chanel

I’d never felt this defeated before. My dad would’ve told me that defeat is another obstacle to overcome, or a stepping stone. That I should be grateful for the failure because at least I’d learn something from it, but this wasn’t the type of failure I could embrace.

This wasn’t a screw up with a design in the work place. It wasn’t a friggin’ cooking failure or a car crash. It was my heart on the line, except the line wasn’t even there anymore. Ryan had jerked it out of reach.

I stared at the cellphone in my hands, and considered shooting off a text to Paula. She’d have some quick-witted advice or a shoulder to cry on, but I couldn’t continue relying on her for everything, especially if I planned on taking this contract.

If I did, I’d be up here for the next month and contact with folks in Meek Springs would be limited. I doubted that Commander Shepherd would care what name I carried for my business, whether it was Scott’s Interiors or just me, alone. A freelance decorator. I’d nailed the presentation and that was all that mattered to him.

The choice was mine. Go back to Meek Springs and live with my overbearing mother, or stay on the base and complete the contract without Ryan here.

It wasn’t much of a choice.

I opened the portfolio on my desk, then reached for my folder of contacts beside it, and brought it across. My mind tried to keep up – my soul felt empty after the talk with Ryan.

I’d fallen in love with him and he didn’t even know. He’d fallen for me and said it was a mistake.

“Stop it,” I whispered, and blinked back tears. “That’s over now. Focus on your work. That’s all that matters.” I didn’t have a mother. I couldn’t lean on Paula and use her as a crutch. I didn’t have Ryan. “You never had him, dumbass.”

I blinked back tears and flipped through the portfolio, to the information I’d marked with sticky notes. I turned to the corresponding page in my contacts folder and traced a line down the row of numbers. I needed paint, and help from some professional painters. I wasn’t about to trust that task to soldiers on the base – they didn’t have the necessary experience and I didn’t want to waste what funding I did have repainting.

“Okay,” I said, “okay. This isn’t so bad. Easy. You can do this.” If I focused on all the tasks at hand, I wouldn’t have time to cry over Ryan or my idiocy in having fallen for him in the first place.

The door creaked open and I frowned, turning toward it. My stomach dipped and whooped back up again. “What do you want?”

Jack Whitmore stood there, gripping the edge of the door, a strange smile twisting his lips. “Is that any way to say hello to an old friend?”

“An old friend? I’ve known you less than a month,” I replied, and tamped down on my fear. Jack’s expression was that of a predator – if I let him see he was getting to me he’d pounce before I got the chance to formulate a plan. “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be under guard?”

He entered my room and shut the door. Didn’t lock it, though, thank goodness.

“That’s the thing, I shouldn’t be under guard. I wasn’t the one who beat up that kid, and a lot of the soldiers on this base know it,” he said, then cast a glance around the room. He gestured to my bed. “Mind if I sit down?”

“Yes.”

He grinned and plonked down on the mattress anyway. “Thanks,” he said, and hooked one leg up to rest it on the other, knee jutting outward. “You see, most of the soldiers around here know what Ryan is capable of and they don’t believe that I was the one who hurt that kid.”

“I don’t want to talk about this. Or anything. I think it would be better if you left,” I said, and slowly reached for my cellphone. The signal wasn’t the best, but I had Ryan’s office number and I’d call it if I had to, though the thought of relying on him now ate at me.

“But you need to hear it before you continue messing with him. I swear, I’m only here to help you.”

“I said I don’t want to hear it.” I picked up the cell and held it fast.

“You need to. He’s always been a little crazy, but it’s like I said, he was changed when he came back, after he lost all those men. And now, he’s been demoted –”

“What?” Ryan didn’t tell me that.

“Oh, you didn’t know? He was demoted from Lieutenant Commander to Petty Officer. I suppose you’ve heard he’s shipping out to Hawaii soon.”

“Yes,” I replied, but how the hell did he know this? He was a prisoner, or he was supposed to be.

“I have friends,” he said, as if he’d read the question on my face. “A lot of really good friends who know that I’m not capable of hurting another human being. An innocent one, at least.”

“Oh yeah? Then how did you get those marks?” I gestured to the healing wounds on his knuckles.

“These? I fell.”

“You fell on your knuckles,” I replied, deadpan, and surreptitiously unlocked the screen on my cell.

“That’s right. I was running away because of what I’d seen. Ryan scared me.”

“I don’t know what you think you’re going to achieve by telling me this,” I said, “it doesn’t make a difference what you say to me.”

“It has to,” Whitmore replied, then hung his head.

I took the opportunity to scroll through my contacts to the number for Ryan’s office. I hit dial before I could second-guess my decision. I pressed my thumb over the speaker so the sound of ringing wouldn’t travel and alert Whitmore to what I’d done.

“What are you talking about? Why is it so important that I believe this?” I asked.

“Because you’re the only one who can help me put him behind bars. Can’t you see what a manipulator he is?” Whitmore speared me with his gaze. “He’s leaving isn’t he? He probably told you he cared about you, and he’s leaving you behind.”

How did he know any of this? It sent shivers up and down my spine. “That’s none of your business.”

“It’s everyone’s business. He made it our business by getting involved with you. Look, I’m not here to make you feel bad about what happened, but the fact that it did happen jeopardized the entire base. And if Commander Shepherd finds out that you did anything untoward with Ryan, you can bet he’s going to rescind the contract.”

How the hell did he know about the contract? Christ, this was beyond creepy. “Who have you been talking to?” I asked. “Who told you all of this?”

“I have my sources. Friends,” he said. “They’re on my side. I just want you to help me put Baker where he belongs. Behind bars.”

“And if I don’t?” I looked down at the phone, but the call had already ended without being answered.

“Then you’ll lose the contract and I’ll make sure that you never work on another military installation again.”

Asshole. What a total asshole. “No one will believe you, and he’s already been demoted,” I said, “why do you care so much about what happens to him? And don’t give me that story about him having beaten up Timothy. We both know that’s not true.” I had to buy time. I tapped Ryan’s office number again and redialed.

“He has you,” Whitmore said.

My world rocked back and forth. “Huh?” I couldn’t form a proper question in response to that.

“He took you before I had a chance,” Whitmore continued, and tilted his head to one side, studying me up and down, head to toe. Shivers coursed across my skin. “You see, I could’ve had you. You could’ve been my girl, and I wouldn’t have jeopardized this base in the process.”

I opened my mouth then snapped it shut again. Once again, the call ended without going through to Ryan’s office. My pulse ticked up a notch – Christ, what would happen if I didn’t get hold of someone soon?

What if Jack decided to hurt me or… I couldn’t even think it.

“I would’ve treated you like a princess.”

Finally, I found my words. “And threatening me is how you treat a princess? I worked hard to get this contract and now you’re going to try take it away from me if I don’t do what you want.”

Jack scooched off the edge of the bed and sauntered toward me. “Don’t you see? Everything I’ve done has been for you. I want you to be safe.”

He was too close. My body tensed up, muscles corded, and my fingernails bit into the meat of my palms, cutting crescent moons into my skin.

“I want you to have a good life and you could’ve had it with me.”

“P-Paula,” I stammered.

“She’s nothing compared to you. All I wanted was you, all along, gorgeous. I couldn’t even fuck Paula because it drove me mad thinking about you with him.”

Whether this was true or not, Whitmore had a serious envy problem. I’d ended up with Ryan and he wanted to change that, either because he liked me in a psychopathic way or because he wanted to take me from Ryan.

“You know you want this as much as I do,” he said, and pried the phone from my hand. He glanced at the screen and chuckled. “Look at the initiative you’re willing to take. But he didn’t answer, did he? No, he’s probably too busy for you, now. Busy getting ready to leave for another base. Leave you behind like a piece of trash. He used you and now he’s done with you. You’ll never see him again.”

“Stop it,” I said, and tears prickled in the corners of my eyes. “None of that’s true.”

“Then why hasn’t he come to save you from me, huh? That’s what you want, isn’t it? You want Ryan to come save you from big, bad me.” He traced a line down my jaw and I flinched away. “Well, you were right about one thing.”

“What?”

“I did put Timothy in a coma, and I’ll do it to anyone who gets in my way,” he said, and pinched my chin. He shook my head from side-to-side. “If you won’t have me, if you won’t help me, I’ll ruin you. And if that doesn’t scare you… Hmmm, I can fabricate something else.”

I gulped, and sweat dripped down my temples.

“I can picture it now. You beaten black and blue by Ryan. Oh yeah, that would work. See, everyone thinks I’m under guard and everyone’s heard the rumors about you two together. They’ll assume that you had a huge blowout after you found out he’d been reassigned.”

I struggled back but Whitmore held my chin fast.

“And then Ryan will be ruined and so will you. So, what’s it going to be?” he asked. “You going to help me bring him down, or am I going to make you.” Whitmore raised a fist and admired his bruised and battered knuckles.

My choice had changed from staying or going, to staying or possibly dying.

“I love Ryan,” I said, loudly, and glared daggers up at him. Never give up. Never surrender. Don’t show them fear, girl, or they’ll know that they’ve gotten to you. You have one real choice in life: die on your knees or die with integrity. I know which I’d choose.

“What?”

“I love him and I won’t help you,” I said, then squeezed my eyes shut.

Chapter 30

Ryan

I kicked the door hard enough that the wood beside the lintel splintered. I’d never known rage like this. It melted the blood in my veins to molten lava, it burned through my muscles and scalded my core.

“Mother fucker!” I streaked into the room, fists up.

Whitmore stood there, his own raised, and smirked at me. Chanel sat in a chair beside her desk, her eyes flicked open and she sucked in a gasp.

“I’ll kill you,” I said, voice trembling. I clung to the last shards of my resolve.

“Don’t,” Chanel hissed. “Don’t do it. That’s what he wants. He wants you to do something stupid so that he’ll win.”

Win? There wasn’t any winning here. All I had now was bitter remorse for everything that’d happened between us over the course of the last few weeks. Bitterness and an ache to be with her again.

“Do it,” Whitmore said, tone sinuous, snake-like. “Do it, Baker. You know you’ve wanted to do it for as long as we’ve known each other.”

A flicker of shock retarded my anger. “What?” I kept my fists up though, ready to ram this motherfucker into non-existence for what he’d said, what he’d threatened to do. How far could one man stray from what he was meant to be?

Whitmore had been a soldier. But this, this thing in front of me? No, this wasn’t a soldier. This wasn’t a man of honor and discipline.

And what was I if I beat him for this? He hadn’t put a hand on Chanel, though he had threatened her. I lowered my fists. “I’m not like you,” I said.

Whitmore snorted.

Chanel scrambled out of the chair and rushed toward me. She positioned herself behind me, but didn’t lay hands on my body. It was good – I wouldn’t have been able to concentrate if she had.

She loved me. She’d said it only seconds ago. She actually loved me, and I sure as hell loved her back though there wasn’t a thing I could do to change any of this. I couldn’t condemn her to a life like mine. She couldn’t understand what it was like, moving constantly, deployment, months of being alone. No, I couldn’t sentence her to that.

“Focus on me, Baker,” Whitmore said, and clicked his fingers at me. “Focus on what I’m going to do to you.”

“And what’s that? Attack me?” I let out a raw chuckle. “I know you won’t do it. You’re a coward.”

Whitmore clenched his fists. “If anyone’s a coward here, it’s you. You’re the one who can’t do what it takes to get ahead. Look at you, you piece of shit, you just got demoted. And you don’t even care, do you?”

Of course, I cared, but not because of the loss of rank. I didn’t have a choice in any of it, but losing the soldiers I’d worked with ate at me. I’d done my best to provide them with what they needed here and to be a good leader.

“This is a waste of time,” I said, and turned my head. I kept Whitmore in my peripheral vision, but focused on Chanel. “Can you find Jameson for me? Tell her where Whitmore is.”

“Yes,” she said, and hurried out without a backward glance.

Some of the tension I was holding eased. She was out of danger now, at least.

Whitmore remained where he was, but the slant of his shoulder said he was relaxed, unconcerned that he’d broken free and would be punished for it. Especially, when Chanel decided to lay harassment charges against him.

“You’ve only made things worse for yourself,” I said.

“And worse for you too,” Whitmore replied, “as long as I do that, that’s all that matters.”

“When did you become this person? You were never evil.”

“Evil,” Whitmore snorted. “I’m not evil. I’m just exhausted from pretending I can stand who you are anymore. Everyone here worships you but they don’t know who you really are. The cold asshole who thinks he’s better than everyone else.”

It wasn’t true. I didn’t think that and never had, but I understood what it took to perform a duty. It was a heavy burden and I’d always borne it without complaint… for the most part.

“You don’t understand anything, Jack. I don’t even think you know who you are anymore.”

“That’s rich coming from you,” Whitmore said, then shook his head. “No, I know who I am. I’m the guy who does whatever it takes to get things done the right way. You’re the guy who’ll sit back and do nothing.”

I didn’t dare show weakness in front of him, but I itched to pinch the bridge of my nose and rid myself of the sinus headache that had sprung up.

“How did you free yourself?”

Whitmore shrugged. “I have friends here who know that you’re too weak to lead, and that I should be the one carrying the mantle of Lieutenant Commander. Once you’re gone, I’ll probably get the title.”

“It’s not a title,” I replied.

“Everyone knows that you slept with her,” Whitmore continued, “I warned you about that, Baker. I warned you that what you’d done would come back to bite you in the ass, but you didn’t listen, and now you’re going to pay the price.”

“Did you change the roster?” I asked.

Whitmore let out a raw, throat-cracking laugh. “Did I change the roster?” He mocked me, then rolled his eyes. “Christ, you should be a comic. No, dumbass, I didn’t change the fucking guard schedule. How would I have managed that? I told you, I have friends who know the truth about you.”

Footsteps rang down the halls, the hurried click of heels on tile, and I eased my shoulders. Soon, we’d put him back where he belonged, or rather, where he’d stay until he was put in military prison – where he truly deserved to be.

Jack’s little show made me sick, and it only proved what Commander Shepherd had decided was in the base’s best interests. Whether I wanted to admit it or not, I had fucked up. I’d brought too much emotion into my decision-making process and that had effected everything.

If I’d gone with my gut instincts about Whitmore, none of this would’ve happened. If I’d held off with Chanel – No. That wouldn’t have changed anything. Anyway, I wouldn’t have been able to hold back.

Jameson entered the room, closely followed by Chanel, and two other privates in their uniforms. Petty Officer Jameson’s face centered around a scowl. She glared at Whitmore, wordlessly.

“What?” Whitmore asked. “I got bored waiting for someone to come take up the guard position. What was I supposed to do? Wait around?” He laughed again.

Jameson signaled for the two privates to take him, then deferred to me for orders.

“Back to his holding cell,” I said, and grimaced at the term. “I want to find out how he got out and why Officer Wyatt wasn’t on duty as he was meant to be.”

“Oh, I might know the answer to that.” Whitmore tapped the side of his nose. “But I probably won’t tell. I dunno, you’ll have to convince me.”

I glanced at Chanel, her open gaze, filled with a mixture of fear and outrage, then nodded once. “If you need anything –” I trailed off, catching a strange glance shared between the two privates. “Don’t hesitate to contact Petty Officer Jameson,” I continued, “she’ll help you, Miss Scott. Best of luck with the refurbishment of the base.”

Chanel nodded and took a couple steps back from the door, to allow us all passage. She didn’t so much as look at me.

The two privates took point, leading their prisoner between them, I followed with Jameson in tow.

“You’re not fooling anyone, you know,” Whitmore cast back over his shoulder.

“Quiet,” Jameson snapped.

The gray halls slid by, along with a few other soldiers who narrowed their eyes at our moving group. Was their disdain for Whitmore or for me? The creeping paranoia settled around my shoulders. I couldn’t shake it off.

Whitmore had sown the seed of doubt in my mind and it sprouted into a sapling. I had to chop it down before it became a tree. Jack was motivated by an intense need to ‘outdo’ me. I couldn’t trust what he’d said, but the doubt was still there. Waiting for a burst of sunlight to give it strength.

We rounded the corner and marched right up to Whitmore’s ‘room,’ then entered, him first, Jameson after, and finally me. I didn’t hesitate, though it made my skin crawl to be close to him again.

I’d never had such a test of my temper in my entire life.

The privates sat him down at a table in the center of the room, then retreated to the door and hovered on either side of it.

“Outside,” I said, “and close it behind you.” I might not have been a Lieutenant Commander anymore, but I still outranked them.

They saluted, then moved out of the room and shut the door.

I took a chair opposite Whitmore, and Jameson sat down beside me. We both studied him, impassively – I hoped that was how it came off.

“I didn’t think you’d make a good lackey, Jameson,” Jack said, and raised an eyebrow at her.

“Who changed the roster for you?” she asked, and her tone didn’t even sharpen. A fantastic display of control. But that was who she’d always been, and I admired her for that. “Was it Wyatt?”

Whitmore shrugged. “What does it matter if it was Wyatt or not? I have plenty of friends who know the truth about you, Baker.”

I would’ve believed him if I didn’t understand the line of command better. No one here would break rank for Whitmore, unless they’d lost touch with reality, and I doubted there were many of those who had.

It would be Wyatt and perhaps one other, if Whitmore had been persuasive enough.

“If you don’t tell us we’ll find out another way,” I said, evenly. “There’s no use holding back the information. You’re in enough trouble as it is.”

“I could say the same about you, Baker. Trouble follows you wherever you go.”

“Will you tell us who helped you change the roster?” I asked.

“No.”

“Then this conversation is over,” I replied, and rose from the table. “Petty Officer Jameson, we’ll need the roster and the records of every officer who has watched over Whitmore this last week.”

“Yes, Sir,” Jameson replied.

“Sir? He’s the same rank as you,” Whitmore snapped. “Don’t call him that.”

Jameson’s gaze shifted to our ‘prisoner’ and the skin around her eyes tightened. “Is there anything else you need, Sir?” she asked of me.

“Just that for now, Jameson.”

She saluted far too formally, and left the room with clipped strides. Whitmore watched her go, eyes narrowed. “I see you’ve got friends too.”

“There aren’t friends on this base, Whitmore. We’re colleagues, soldiers, not friends, you should know that.” I walked out as well. Staying would mean a loss of control. I couldn’t hold back my anger much longer.

I moved down the hall toward my office to continue clearing it out, mind burning from what I’d heard. Chanel loved me. Even when she thought loving me would mean pain or punishment, she’d stuck to it.

The woman was a wonder and I’d repaid her by stringing her along and allowing her to believe that things between us could actually work out. That made me a special type of asshole.

I couldn’t risk hurting her again. I’d have to keep my distance these two weeks, even though it would be more difficult than anything I’d ever done.

The chemistry between us was insane. Even now, I was drawn to her, to the prospect of returning to her room and stripping the clothes from her skin, holding her to my chest and just… just feeling her.

I widened the length of my steps and focused on the task at hand instead. Thoughts like that led into dangerous territory. I couldn’t go back. I had to look forward and pretend that it didn’t kill me to do it.

I didn’t have another option.

Chapter 31

Chanel

The sky outside was actinic blue, a strange shade from the darkening storm on its path over the Rocky Mountains. This year had brought too many of them. I ran my fingers through my hair and snagged a few knots.

In the week since Whitmore had threatened me, I’d spent most of my time working on the base. The painters had already started their work, and moved along at a blistering pace. The replacement furniture had been ordered from suppliers. I’d worked on organizing a date for the new blinds to be installed.

Office chairs, desks, new dining tables, a few paintings here and there, all depicting scenes of battle or triumph. They’d started arriving in drips and drabs. Already, the changes around the base had piqued the interest of the soldiers.

Backs that were once bent or shoulders drooping were straight, now. I’d seen how my father had handled stress, he always carried it across his shoulders and refused to put it down for anyone else to pick up, and that was how these soldiers acted too.

It irritated me a little. Couldn’t they see that they had to blow off some steam? No man or woman could handle this much stress and discipline without breaking.

Ryan was the worst. Every time I caught sight of him, he’d turn a corner and disappear from sight, and his old office had a new owner, now.

I sat down on the edge of my bed and watched the bleak of night creep over the mountains. The window darkened and I bit my lip.

I’d worked this over in my mind a million times, but I had to do it. I had to. I needed to see him again and the only way I could do that would be to go directly to his room. He hadn’t moved out of that yet – I asked Jameson for confirmation.

“This is crazy,” I whispered. “You’re crazy.” But what choice did I have. There was only a week left before he’d be heading out to friggin’ Hawaii where he’d probably meet some exotic older woman who was more understanding or better for him or –

“Stop it,” I grunted. If I planned on doing this, I had to do it now, before I lost my nerve.

I slipped off the end of my bed and checked that I was presentable. Blouse straight, another of my professional pencil skirts, and underneath it? Nothing. Though, the bag Ryan had gathered for me contained a few personal items, I opted to go without.

I needed all the confidence I could muster for this.

I opened the door and entered the hall, walked past the officer’s mess and continued down the corridor. I opted to keep the tiles, though I already decided they’d need to be buffed and cleaned before the end of the revamp.

Thoughts about redecorating and how far I’d come kept me from running back to my bedroom.

I stopped outside Ryan’s quarters and inhaled through my nose. Finally, I raised a fist and knocked once.

“Come.” His voice sent a shiver through me. I hadn’t heard it in a week and it was like hearing it again for the first time.

I let go of the breath I’d held in, then opened the door and stepped over the threshold into his plain room. They hadn’t painted in there yet. I bumped the door shut with my heel, and let my arms hang loose at my sides.

Ryan turned from the window, then froze.

“Hi,” I said.

“Chanel,” he replied, “what are you doing here?”

“I had to see you.”

“You know that’s not a good idea. It’s pointless. We can’t be together. I don’t want you to get hurt.” He forced each of those sentences out and I could tell that they were a product of his mentally bullying himself into saying them.

He wanted this as much as I did.

I reached behind me and turned the lock.

“What are you doing?”

“I don’t care what you say, Ryan. I know that you want me as much as I want you. And I know that you’re going to leave me here.”

“I have to.” He bit the words off.

“I know. I understand.”

“You can’t possibly understand what this is like. You can’t. I won’t condemn – ”

I cut him off by freeing the first button of my blouse.

“Chanel.”

“I know you have to leave and I don’t care. I need you, even if it’s just for one last night, one last time before you push me aside again.”

“I’m not pushing you aside,” he grunted, as if I’d punched him in the gut. “I wouldn’t do that after what happened with Whitmore.”

I didn’t want to think about Whitmore or his empty threats. I wanted Ryan and that was that. If this was the only time I’d feel real love in my life, then I wasn’t about to waste the opportunity to have that one last time.

“Just shut up and make love to me,” I said, and undid the second button.

Ryan worked his jaw, but no sound came out.

“Close the blinds,” I said, heart fluttering. A rejection now would crush me. I’d never put myself out there like this with him or anybody else.

Ryan didn’t move a muscle. Just stared at me.

“Close them.” The third button popped free. “Close them. I’m getting naked either way. If you want people to see, I don’t care anymore.”

He closed the blind, a single tug and they were shut. It was just me and him now. Alone and with a tiny space between us, closer than we’d been in a week. How was it possible to love someone so soon?

I didn’t doubt that I’d fallen for him. It was plain fact. It would’ve been like denying a facet of my personality.

Ryan stared at me. “This isn’t a good idea. You’re going to get hurt.”

“And you’re not? You care that little?” I undid the last of my buttons and parted my blouse, exposing my breasts. My nipples were already puckered for him, ready. I bit my bottom lip and ran my fingertips over them, watching him carefully.

Ryan grunted as if he’d touched me himself. The bulge in the front of his pants became more pronounced, and he shifted it. “Why are you doing this?”

“Because I can’t stand the thought of you leaving without having this heat between us one last time. I know you think it will only make things worse, but they can’t get any worse than this. I – I need you, Ryan. Please, just understand that.”

He crossed the room and took both my hands in his, examining them closely as if he could read the future in them, then met my gaze.

My heart went crazy. I couldn’t stand another second of this.

Finally, he leaned in and took my lips with his, claiming my mouth as surely as he’d done before. He probed me, massaged my tongue with his, tasted and grunted at the growing pressure between us.

We broke apart, both gasping for breath.

He unzipped my skirt at the back, then shimmied it over my hips and down my thighs. Ryan’s fingers were sure, but his expression wavered between unkempt desire and concern.

I had to wipe that second emotion clean. I grabbed the front of his pants, unbuttoned them, then tore them down. His dick bounced free, and I sighed. God, it’d been too long. A week was an eon.

I tried lowering myself to the floor in front of him, but he held me upright and shook his head. “No,” Ryan said. “Not this time. I want this to be something else. Something special. For us.”

“Us,” I replied. As if there could ever be an ‘us.’

He stripped off his shirt, removed my blouse, and we both kicked off our shoes. We stood entirely naked in front of each other.

I scanned the slopes and planes of his abs, pecs, his broad shoulders and the defined, muscular arms. He’d always been flawless, but this attraction went past skin deep.

Ryan took my hand again and led me to his single bed in the corner. He helped me into it, brushing a fingertip in long line of pleasure down my spine, then lay down beside me, propped up on one arm.

He traced the contours of my breasts, circled each areola, then slipped down my torso, abdomen, over my mound and between my legs.

I throbbed for him.

Ryan’s dick pressed into my thigh, his finger parting my lips, sliding between them, entering me, then slipping upward, over my clitoris and circling it – a light pressure. All of the little pleasures built up and I jerked beneath his touch. I bucked upward and craned my neck toward his.

I kissed him, open mouthed, then sucked on the sweet spot at the base of his throat.

“Careful,” Ryan said, “you’ll leave a mark.”

I wanted to. It would only last a week, but he’d have something to remember me by when he left. No, don’t think of that.

“You’re so wet, Chanel,” he whispered, and kissed the top of my head.

“And you’re so hard.” I squeezed his dick and worked my palm over it.

He grunted, and pre-cum coursed over the tip. He worked his fingers inside me, and I matched the pace with my strokes.

Ryan’s eyes drifted shut and he leaned in again, nuzzled my cheek with his nose, dousing me in his scent. He brought me closer to the edge, too close, I’d shatter into millions of tiny pieces before he even entered me.

“Please,” I whimpered. “Inside me, please.” I let go of him to show I meant it.

Ryan opened his eyes and smiled at me, hazed over with desire and a hint of satisfaction. At least, the anxiety was gone. He took hold of my hip and rolled me onto my side, then moved in behind me.

Kisses on my neck, arm underneath me, holding me close, keeping me safe. Nothing could feel this good again.

Ryan angled his dick toward my entrance and rested it there.

I wiggled and moaned. “Come on,” I said.

He chuckled, a low throaty laugh – the hairs on the back of my neck stood up – then he entered me slowly, inch by inch, parting my lips, then squeezing inside. Once again, we fit together perfectly.

I cried out, softly.

Ryan kissed my ear lobe and moved inside me, slow, long thrusts that burned my core. I could barely see from the heat, barely breathe. Flames licked me, I wanted to explode already, but he didn’t lessen the intensity.

He was thick inside me, every ridge and vein pronounced, stroking me toward my orgasm. Ryan’s fingers bit into my hips. He buried his face in my neck and kissed, then bit gently.

“Oh God,” I moaned. “Ryan, oh my God.”

His breaths gusted over my neck. “Gonna come,” he grunted, and pounded into me, faster this time, deep as he could go, growing thicker if it were possible.

I gripped the bed spread and scrunched it, tightening around him, my eyes rolling back in my head. My orgasm built and I shuddered against him, releasing all the tension I’d held over his departure, over losing the man I loved.

I had disconnected thoughts, an image of his back as he walked away from me, bag in hand.

Ryan pulsed inside me, releasing everything he had, and holding me tighter still.

Finally, he was spent, and settled back on the pillow.

Tears sprung up, immediately, and I swallowed to banish them. Didn’t work. Maybe this was a bad idea. I couldn’t picture my life without moments like these, and now, I had to let them go.

I sat up on his bed.

“Don’t go yet,” he said, half asleep. “Chanel, please.”

“I have to,” I replied, and slipped off the end of the bed. I ran to where we’d dropped our clothes and dressed as quickly as possible. I didn’t say goodbye. This couldn’t be the last time I saw him, and saying it now would make me sob openly.

Ryan got up too. “Chanel.”

“Don’t. Sleep. I’ll see you another time.” I blinked tears and rushed out before he could stop me.

Chapter 32

Ryan

Commander Shepherd stood behind my office chair and gripped the top of it, squeezing the leather and releasing, squeezing and releasing. He glared daggers at me.

I stood my ground, arms at my sides, drawn up straight.

“I thought the trouble was over, Petty Officer Baker,” he said. “I thought we resolved this.” The Commander hadn’t called me into his office once to discuss Whitmore’s ‘escape’ from his guards. I’d assumed it’d blown over, but apparently, it hadn’t reached him until, now. And then, only because he’d gone to see Whitmore himself.

The asshat had openly bragged about it.

“Do you know why I stayed behind, Baker?”

“No, Sir.” He was scheduled to leave weeks ago.

“Because I had to ensure that the transition of power here was smooth. I had to ensure that you didn’t fuck it up again somehow. I’m glad I stayed.”

“Sir, these are extreme circumstances. I can’t control –”

“You can’t control anything,” Shepherd said, and slapped the chair. It shuddered and rolled to one side. The Commander bore down on the desk and planted his knuckles on top of it. “I asked you to find me evidence, actual proof that Whitmore beat that Meek Springs kid and you’ve done nothing in the past two weeks but fuck around.”

“Sir, Whitmore admitted that he beat the civilian to the interior decorator, Chanel Scott. She can testify to that,” I said, smoothly. It was my Ace up my sleeve. Except for that, I had nothing. How could I when the evidence was washed away in the storm and none of the witnesses had seen what I had?

“Miss Scott,” Shepherd said. “The same woman who’s redecorating the base.”

“That’s correct, Sir.”

“And the same woman who’s spurred rumors around the base. Rumors about you,” Shepherd continued.

I kept up my poker face. God, I’d made a mess of everything here. I deserved the demotion and the relocation tomorrow. If I could just keep my shit together until then… no, it wouldn’t make me happy, but it might save my career with the Navy.

“I hear everything.”

“It was Whitmore, wasn’t it, Sir?” I sighed. “He’s obsessed with Miss Scott. He threatened her in private, though I’m not sure if she’ll press charged against him. Regardless, he added another crime to the list for which he’ll be convicted.”

“You sound confident about that.”

“I know him,” I said, “I thought I knew him until now, but I’ve come to know what lurks beneath his façade, Sir. He’s criminal.”

Shepherd eyed me. “You might be right about that, Baker. Can you explain how he got out of his quarters without supervision?”

“We investigated the guards on duty, Sir. We discovered that Officer Wyatt changed the roster to reflect his name during a time he knew he would be out on a supply run,” I said. “He’s been punished appropriately.”

“I doubt it,” Shepherd said. “I want to see Officer Wyatt after we’re done speaking. You’ll have him sent to me, immediately.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Baker, I’m disappointed in everything that’s happened on this base. Apart from Miss Scott’s endeavors. The base seems to have come along nicely. The soldiers seem uplifted.”

He used the word ‘seem’ a lot there.

“She’s a brilliant interior decorator, Sir,” I said, formally. “I’m glad that Meek Springs had something to offer.”

“Apart from a petition, you mean.”

I raised an eyebrow and opened my mouth to question him about it.

Commander Shepherd waved me to silence. “Nothing will come of it. They’ve gathered their signatures, but ultimately, this base is here to stay. There’s not much they can do against the will of the United States Government.”

Except cause trouble in the town when soldiers did supply runs. This didn’t bode well for the base, but it wasn’t my place to say that anymore. I wasn’t the CO here. “I’m glad to hear things will be resolved, Sir.”

Commander Shepherd grunted. “If you can call it that. We still have a half-dead boy in hospital and a criminal to convict.” He didn’t mention that the criminal was Whitmore. Could there still be doubt that he’d done it?

Whitmore had shown his mutinous side. He’d gone against authority several times prior to the incident and after. Surely, there couldn’t be a question as to whether he was capable.

“Sir, if you’ll speak to Miss Scott, I think you’ll find that –”

“I don’t need to speak to Miss Scott. She’ll testify when he’s court-martialed,” Shepherd said, and waved again. He dug around in his jacket pocket and brought out a wrapped cigar. “I’m leaving today. I think I’ll celebrate that in peace.”

“Yes, Sir,” I said, and saluted.

A knock at the door stalled my exit.

“Wait a moment, Baker, this might be relevant,” Shepherd said, then raised his voice. “Come.”

The door opened and Petty Officer Jameson entered. She saluted.

“At ease.” Shepherd brought out a cigar clipper and gestured with it. “What news do you have for me, Jameson?”

“Sir, we’ve received information from the local police in Meek Springs. The victim of the attack, Timothy Meller, has come out of a coma. He’s in Cregton General speaking to the police, right now.”

I balled my hands into fists – silent triumph. This was the best thing that could’ve happened. Not only was the kid alive and talking, thank goodness, but he’d be able to reveal the truth about Whitmore.

Commander Shepherd froze with the clipper halfway to the end of his cigar. “That so?” he said. “Well, I’ll be damned. Has Mr. Meller said anything of note? Anything relevant?”

Jameson nodded, her arms still tucked behind her back. “Yes, Sir. He gave a description of the man who attacked him.”

Commander Shepherd finally clipped off the end of his cigar into an ashtray on the desk. “And?” He asked. “Are you going to tell me the verdict or do I have to squeeze it out of you, Jameson?”

“Sorry, Sir, I’m a – never mind. Sir, he gave a description which matches Jack Whitmore. From what we’ve heard, he described the incident as Whitmore following him out into the alleyway and assaulting him brutally. He doesn’t have too many of the details because his memory is fuzzy.”

Silence followed Jameson’s words.

I couldn’t help the rush of relief that washed over me. This was conclusive evidence. If Timothy pinned it on Whitmore…

“Thank you for the information, Petty Officer Jameson,” the Commander said. “You’re dismissed.”

Jameson left and I turned to follow her out.

“Not you, Baker,” Shepherd said. “You stay.” The click of a lighter behind me, followed by the sound of Shepherd sucking on the end of the cigar. “You stay.”

I shut the door, and faced the Commander again, nerves chasing through my stomach. If there was any chance he’d let me stay and resume command of this base, this would be it. I could put it forward, but the fear of being let down dominated me. If he said no, it’d be like losing everything again.

The tryst with Chanel last week had almost pushed me over the edge. I couldn’t stand the thought of losing her again. She’d avoided me all week, and it was better that way, but the last time –

“You want to ask me something, Baker?” Shepherd sat down in the leather chair this time.

“No, Sir,” I said.

“You sure about that?” Shepherd puffed out a cloud of cigar smoke. “Because you look like you’re thinking about asking me something.”

“Nothing, Sir.”

“Baker, I can’t give you back command of this base. I’m moving you because of the way you handled this situation, regardless of the outcome,” Commander Shepherd said, “you didn’t truly think that I believed you were responsible for Meller’s attack.”

I didn’t respond, but kept my hands at my side, rigid.

“I didn’t. What I believed wasn’t in question. We have the evidence to put that maniac in prison for a long time. He’ll be court-martialed and suspended. In fact, I’m going to have him taken off base, right now.”

“That’s good news, Sir. Good for the base. Good for the other soldiers.”

Shepherd studied me, the cigar held between two of his fingers. “Good for the soldiers, yes. Ensure that you’re prepared to be shipped out tomorrow, Baker. Dismissed.”

“Thank you, Sir,” I said, and saluted.

I wouldn’t bother trying to argue the point. Shepherd had made up his mind – I wouldn’t be allowed to remain here. I’d lost his trust and I didn’t blame him. Maybe it was all the fucking years of pent up anger over what’d happened in the desert. Or maybe, meeting Chanel had changed everything for me.

It was over. I had to leave and find a place for myself on the base in Hawaii. Hopefully, I’d be called out into combat one day and I could put all this behind me. Not that I lusted after death or glory, but there was no time to worry about emotions when life was precious and orders came from the top to be obeyed.

I walked toward the officer’s section, boots clicking on the floor that Chanel had kept. The walls were a different color, the lights had been changed on the ceiling above. She’d worked her magic in very little time, and would probably finish up here before the month was out.

In fact, she worked with military precision and efficiency. I admired that. I loved that.

Shut up. It’s over. This part of your life is over.

I strode toward the officer’s mess hall and the buzz of lunchtime activity. Three men appeared at the end of the hall, two flanking the one in the middle.

Whitmore.

The criminal spotted me and narrowed his eyes. The bravado he’d been touting for the last few weeks was gone, and had been replaced by outright hatred. “There you are,” he said. “I hoped I’d get to see you before you left.”

I ignored him, and one of the officers guiding him nudged him. “Quiet.”

“You’ll end up regretting this, Baker. I won’t lose, understand? You might think you’re better than me. You might see this as a victory. I won’t lose. Not again. You’re going to –”

The words trailed off as he turned the corner, but the grumbling continued. Perhaps, this had pushed him over the edge. He’d probably expected Timothy Meller to die in that hospital. He thought that he’d get away with this.

It showed how he’d lost touch with reality. I placed my palm against the wall and exhaled. “Christ, what’s happening to me? What’s happening to everything?” None of it felt right. I drew my hand away and blinked at the smudge on the wall.

Shit. The paint was still wet. And it was all over my damn palm too. I rushed off to wash up, stomach growling for a meal and for the resolution I knew wouldn’t come. My last day on the base. My last opportunity to see the woman I loved.

Scrubbing couldn’t wash away the sickly feeling that Whitmore had left behind. He achieved his longterm goal, technically. He separated me from Chanel and proved that I was fallible. I wasn’t fit to lead. I wasn’t fit to love.

What did that leave behind?

Chapter 33

Chanel

“So? How’s it going up there with all the decorating and shit?” Paula asked. It wasn’t what she really wanted to know, I could tell by the forced tone, higher pitched than usual.

“Everything’s fine,” I said. “I’ll be finished within the month, I think, if everything goes to plan.” I had to put up a brave face now, because Ryan would leave tomorrow and then where would I be? In a deep depression. I didn’t want to put that on Paula or anyone else. This was my mess.

“You heard about Timothy, right?”

“Yeah, my mom sent a message to tell me,” I replied. It hadn’t changed anything, though. I’d cornered Jameson and quizzed her about it, but the woman said nothing had changed except that Whitmore had been escorted off base. His part of this was, thankfully, over. I wouldn’t have any more late night visitations or freaky encounters in the mess hall.

“Isn’t that great news? I mean, not only for Timothy but for you as well,” Paula babbled on. “Right? Great news. Right?”

“Paula,” I said, but I couldn’t finish the sentence.

“That means he’s staying, doesn’t it? Your soldier is staying and all’s well that ends well.”

“No,” I replied.

“No?”

“No. He’s not staying. He still has to leave, Paula. He’s been reassigned to that base in Hawaii,” I said. “It’s over. It’s going to stay that way. I’ll be stuck here, and it will be over, and I’m fucking shocked my mother hasn’t closed my bank account by now.”

“She wouldn’t do that to you,” Paula said, but she didn’t sound so sure.

“She would. She helped me open it. She’ll close it and the funds will have to go into her account and I’ll be trapped in Meek Springs for the rest of my natural life.”

“No, you won’t. I’ll figure something out. I’ll help you,” Paula said. “You can sleep on my floor until you’ve got a place to stay. Hell, you can sleep in my bed with me. We’ll work something out okay?”

I shook my head. At least, the tears didn’t come this time. I’d cried myself out in the past week. My first true love just happened to be this absolutely untouchable guy who thought I wouldn’t be able to handle life as the girlfriend of a soldier.

As if my life in Meek Springs would be any better. What a joke.

“Chanel,” Paula said, and her voice quavered.

“What?”

“Honey, are you sure that you’re going to give up on this guy? Are you sure you’re ready to do that?”

“What other choice do I have? He’s leaving. He doesn’t want anything to do with me.”

“I can’t believe that’s true,” Paula said. “I’m sorry, I just can’t. The guy has clearly fallen for you. You’ve told me the details minus the nasty one, and it really seems that way.”

“Well, he’s just good at pretending, I guess.”

“Bullshit. The guy is in love with you. Why would he give that up?”

“Because duty is more important than love,” I replied, firmly. “He has a duty and I’m just here. I’m just –”

“So? Why can’t you go with him? I mean, once this whole interior decorating contract is done, what’s to stop you from going to Hawaii and living with him on the base.”

We hadn’t known each other long enough. No, that’s not it. “I don’t know. He thinks I don’t understand the sacrifice it would take to be with him.”

“Wow,” Paula laughed. “Well, what did he say when you told him about your dad?”

“I didn’t tell him,” I said.

“Are you kidding? You’re telling me that your dad didn’t come up once this entire time?”

“There have been a few things that have gotten in the way, Paula,” I said, hackles rising.

“Oh yeah? Like what.”

“Oh, I don’t know, like a guy attacking a civilian and pinning it on him, then threatening me. Or, wait, there’s the fact that I have to redo an entire base. Or the fact that we hardly got any time to talk and when we did we were, well, we were otherwise occupied.”

“Uh huh.”

“Look, don’t judge me. I’ve had a lot going on and so has he. This has been super confusing. I thought we weren’t anything but physical for a really long time okay?” I bit my lip and worked this over. Would it really make a difference to Ryan that I’d had a father in the military? Would it help him see that I understood duty, that I could handle periods with him being away or working long hours if necessary?

My heart fluttered.

“You’re making one huge fuck up if you don’t tell him about your dad. It seems to me like he’s worried about you getting hurt. If he realizes that he can’t hurt you by bringing you along, then… Hello?”

“I’m here,” I said, but I gripped the back of my office chair for support. “I – It’s getting late. Maybe I should go eat. It’s dinner time.”

“Chanel, listen to me for a second here. Listen to me. Ryan is obviously trying to protect you. He’s probably scared himself. This is your one chance at true love, girl, you can’t just let it go. You can’t let him walk away without fighting for it.”

“Fighting for it,” I said. What would my father have done? He wouldn’t have backed down, that was for sure. He would’ve done whatever it took to succeed as he always had. “You’re right. Paula, you’re right. I’ll speak to him. I’ll find him.”

“You go, girl.”

“I’ve gotta go.” I hung up and slipped the phone into my jacket pocket. It was his last day. His last day. I couldn’t let him go without a fight. If Ryan thought things would be easier for me without him, he was wrong.

And he had to know that it wouldn’t be easier for him either.

I rushed out of my office and down the hall, the sound of officer’s talking, then a bout of laughter, broke my focus. I peeked in at the folks eating their meals, lasagna this evening, then did a double take.

Ryan was right there. Right in the middle of them, seated at the table and talking with Jameson and a couple of the other officers. God, he made my insides ache.

A fresh batch of nerves cropped up and I pressed my hands to my stomach. I had to do this. If I didn’t I’d regret it for the rest of my life. And my father had raised me to live without regrets, to take the chances I was given.

I entered the mess hall and walked over to him.

Jameson spotted me first, and nudged him. Ryan lifted his head, saw me and kinda twitched. He hadn’t seen me since the last time we’d hooked up in his quarters.

I halted beside the table, and an uneasy quiet fell, apart from some rowdy chatter from a table further back. There weren’t that many men and women in there. Everyone would likely end up hearing what I had to say.

“Hi,” I said.

“Miss Scott.” He nodded.

“I hear you’re shipping out tomorrow. Or flying out. Whatever it is you need to do, ha.” Lame. What a weak excuse for opening banter.

“That’s correct, ma’am.”

“I need to speak with you,” I said. “Now.”

Ryan glanced at the other soldiers. His shoulders sagged. “Chanel, I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

“Fine,” I said, “you don’t want to talk in private? We’ll talk right here.” I didn’t care whether the others finding out meant I’d lose the contract here. I didn’t care about anything but Ryan and the possibility of finally convincing him that we were meant to be together.

I grabbed an available seat and dragged it over, then sat down beside him. All eyes on me. Ryan shaking his head. “We can talk later.”

“Later? There’s no time for later. You’re leaving tomorrow. We’re going to talk now.”

“Chanel –”

“I’m in love with you,” I said.

None of the other officers reacted, just watched. There wasn’t even a glimmer of surprise. They’d likely seen this coming from the start, since our liaisons were the worst kept secret around here.

“Chanel.”

“I’m in love with you and I know you’ve fallen for me too,” I said. “Honestly, I don’t care who hears about it. I know you think you’re saving me from a fate worse than death or whatever, but you’re not.”

“What do you mean?”

Shit, that had come out all wrong. Garbled because I couldn’t get my nerves under control.

“I want to be with you,” I said, after a second of working my jaw soundlessly. “I want to be your girlfriend and I want to come with you when you leave. Or after. I’ll follow after.”

Awkward quiet had crept past our table now, and through the cafeteria in general. Soldiers sat with their forks halfway to their mouths, staring.

“Ryan, I’m serious.”

He looked around, then took a deep breath. “I told you, you won’t be able to handle it, Chanel. And I can’t condemn you to a life of moving around.”

“I’d take a life moving around over a life in Meek Springs any day.”

“You have a stable life here.”

“I don’t,” I said. “Or I didn’t until my father died. You think I don’t understand what it’s like to move around but you’re wrong. I was a navy brat. I moved from base to base with my mother and father.”

Ryan blinked. Oh yeah, he hadn’t expected that.

I flushed bright red again. God, there should’ve been a limit to how many times that could happen to a person in one day. No, in one hour. “I should’ve told you before this, but there was never a chance, and I didn’t think it would make that much of a difference. But Ryan, my father was Commander Scott.”

Soldiers all through the room perked up. Those who held forks put them down and stared. A murmur in the background.

“Commander Scott,” Ryan said.

“Yes.”

“The most decorated navy SEAL in history?”

“Yes,” I replied. “I don’t talk about him often because it hurts like hell that he’s gone. But yes, he was my father, and I know what life will be like if I’m with you. I’m prepared for it. In fact, it’s all I want.”

“Chanel, don’t you understand? If I hurt you by allowing that I couldn’t forgive myself.”

“Allowing it?” I squared my shoulders. “Who do you think you are? Allowing it? Ryan, I’m in control of my own life and my own choices. You can’t micromanage my emotions for me. Did you ever consider that you leaving now would hurt me more than anything else could?”

“No, but –”

“Did you consider that I’m trapped here without you? I’m trapped in this town. Not only do I hate Meek Springs, but I hate sitting still here. I’ve dreamed of traveling for years and instead, I’ve been stuck here in the damn mountains like a hermit.”

He opened his mouth and I raised a hand to forestall him.

“I’m not saying you’re my ticket out of here. Just that you leaving without me, denying me, would mean more pain than the dreaded alternative you keep bringing up. So, ugh, yeah, you need to consider that, because I’m not going to let you leave tomorrow without giving me a clear answer.” I got up on shaky legs and walked toward the exit.

I didn’t expect him to answer me on the spot, and I needed a minute to myself to gather what sanity I had left. If he rejected me now, then that would be it. I’d done my best. I’d done what my father would’ve expected. He would’ve been proud, and that mattered.

I wobbled out of the mess hall and as far from it as I could manage before I collapsed against the wall, knees shaking. Boy, putting myself out there wasn’t easy. But I’d done it.

The rest was up to him now. He could come get me and fight for us, or he could leave and break us apart.

Chapter 34

Ryan

The hum of chatter didn’t resume for a good minute after Chanel left the cafeteria. I hovered on the brink of charging after her, but my insides had turned to iron and my legs were just as heavy.

“Commander Scott,” I muttered. He was the man who first inspired me to join the navy. Holy fuck. The man who got me into the damn Navy in the first place was Chanel’s father.

I’d heard tales about the legend. About his sacrifice and duty. I couldn’t wrap my head around this. Not only had I fallen for a woman who was intelligent, beautiful and strong, but she had a military background, as well.

“ – right, Baker?”

I blinked and turned to Jameson. “What was that?”

“I asked if you were okay,” she lowered her voice.

The hum of talk and clink of knives and forks had returned, at least. Thankfully, Commander Shepherd would leave before he caught wind of this. Not that it would make a difference. Chanel’s admission didn’t implicate me in anything illegal.

I was allowed to be in love with a woman, even if she was an independent contractor for the base. After all, it wasn’t some weird form of nepotism that had gotten her the job, rather, it was her talents.

“Baker. Are you with me?” Jameson elbowed me out of my fugue.

“Yeah, I’m with you, sorry.” I looked at her again, finally seeing her for the first time since Chanel had left the mess hall. “Jameson, what is it?”

“Man, this is not really any of my business, but you need to go after that girl.”

“What?”

“Go after her and do what you have to do,” she said. “How long have you been doing this, Baker? What are you going to do one day when it’s time to retire and all you’ve got is a uniform and nothing else?”

I didn’t know what to say to that.

“You admired Commander Scott, right?” Jameson asked, her voice low and urgent. “We all did. And he had a wife and family as well as a career. Why can’t you?”

I opened my mouth to argue but nothing came out. She was right. Of course, she was right. Why couldn’t I have everything? I’d held back for so long, I’d forced myself into duty to make up for what happened in the past and where had it gotten me? Here. Demoted because I couldn’t keep focus.

Bottling everything up hadn’t worked. Loving Chanel had opened me to emotion again and now, I’d be hard pressed to shut off that part of my life.

“Baker, I’m not your buddy, I’m your colleague, but I’ve got to step in here and tell you to get your head out of your ass before you lose a woman who truly loves you,” Jameson said. “You dig?”

I nodded once, twice, then scraped my chair back.

The room quieted again. A couple people cleared their throats, but they all stared me down.

“Any of you got something to say to Baker?” Jameson asked, loudly, and glared around at the men and women in uniform.

One of the men in the back nodded. “Yeah,” he said, and gave me a thumbs up. “Go get her.” A smattering of applause broke out at that, and I tried not to show my surprise.

Damn, if anything I’d expected hisses. Whitmore had made out like the soldiers on this base hated me. I nodded to the man who’d spoken, then marched for the exit, buoyed up by their encouragement.

I hit the empty hall and anxiety clouded in. What if it was too late? What if I reached Chanel and she was fed up with my inability to act when it was crucial? I might’ve missed out on the opportunity to be with the woman I loved because of my own hardheadedness.

And because I’d doubted her. I should never have insinuated that she wasn’t strong enough to handle a life with a partner in the military. That had to have pissed her off.

I walked the empty halls and searched for her, just in case she’d taken a detour. Nothing, empty. She had to be in her room or her office. I headed for her room first.

At last, I was in front of her door, fighting the nerves that tangled with my emotions. I raised a fist and knocked three times. Short raps. Come on. Be in there.

“Who is it?” Chanel’s voice shook.

“It’s me,” I said. “Ryan.”

A beat passed, then the doorknob turned, and there she was. Flawless as she’d been in the mess hall, except her cheeks were streaked with tears, mascara smudged beneath her eyes.

“I’m sorry it took me so long to come.”

“It’s fine,” she said, “I expected that this would happen.”

“What?”

“That you’d come here to reprimand me for making a fool of you in front of the other officers. I shouldn’t have done that, but, you know what? No. I should have done that. I wanted to get it off my chest and I did.”

“Chanel –”

“I know what you’re going to say, Ryan. That it can’t be, that you don’t want to jeopardize my life and your duty and blah, blah, blah, but I’m glad I spoke out. My father would be proud.” She was fiery.

I stepped over the threshold and she backed up a couple steps, giving way only enough to allow me into the room and no more.

“I won’t take any of it back, and I won’t back down again.”

“Chanel –”

“I don’t want to hear it. If you’re here to let me down gently, save your damn breath. I’ve already heard it all from you.”

“Would you just let me –?”

“And if you think that I’m going to let you –”

I grasped the back of her head, pulled her into my arms, and planted a kiss on her lips. It was the only way I could get her to shut up long enough to hear what I had to say.

She melted beneath me, stiffened first, then melted into our kiss. She smelled sweet, like she’d just come out of the shower, and she tasted clear as crisp water.

The kiss warmed me from the inside out. And for the first time since we’d gotten together in that hotel room, I let myself enjoy it fully without even a hint of guilt. I stroked her hair, rolled my hands down her back and circled her waist.

Finally, we broke apart.

“W-what was that?” She asked, and touched two fingers to her lips, red from the pressure.

“A kiss,” I said. “I thought you’d know that by now. Didn’t I do it right? I could try again, maybe slip you a little tongue this time.”

She snorted a laugh. It was so damn good to hear her laugh again. “No, Ryan, I mean why? I thought – you didn’t want to get involved.”

“You didn’t let me say a word before you went on that rampage,” I replied. Oh fuck, this was it. “I didn’t say I don’t want to get involved, Chanel.”

“You – then – what do you want to do? I mean, I don’t know what you want. Like, I’ve tried to talk to you about it but I’m – uh?” She babbled on and it had to be the cutest thing I’d ever witnessed.

“I love you,” I said. “Let’s start with that. I said I was falling for you and that I regretted it, but I don’t. I regret saying that.”

“You regret regretting it?” Chanel asked, and raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah,” I said. “I should never have said that to you. I was a coward. I was afraid of loving you, but I’m not anymore.” Man, it was a buildup of everything. It’d taken her bravery, walking into a room full of soldiers and putting herself out there, for me to see that I had to rise to her level and stop being a little bitch.

“You’re not afraid,” she said. “To be in love? What does this mean?”

“It means that I want to be with you,” I replied. “It means that I’ll have to leave here tomorrow, but I want you to come to Hawaii with me when you’re done here.”

“Just like that?” she asked, and folded her arms across those perfect breasts. “Just like that you want me to follow you to Hawaii?”

“You want that, don’t you?” Shit, had I missed my shot with her after all? Had I officially fucked this up for good? “Don’t you?”

“I do,” she said.

I exhaled.

“But I still don’t believe that you’re serious about this. I – I’m sorry, I know this will sound mean, but you’ve given me plenty of reasons to believe that you’ll leave me behind for good. I – what if you change your mind again?”

Fuck, she was right. I had given her plenty of reasons to doubt me, to believe that I’d leave her for duty and career. That had to end. And I’d already figured the perfect way to prove my love to her.

I stepped up close again and took both her hands. “I would’ve been floating along without you, Chanel. I would’ve been nothing but a shell of the man I wanted to be. Hollow on the inside. You made me whole.”

She gulped, squeezed my hands. “You don’t have to say that.”

“I’m not just saying that.” I kissed her forehead, then focused on her again. “I love you with everything I have. You’ve changed me, even though I was too damn stubborn to admit it, even to myself. If I can’t have you, I don’t want to have anything at all.”

Tears welled in the corners of her eyes. One spilled onto her cheek and I leaned in and kissed it with my lips, tasting her salty release.

“I want to be the man that makes you happy,” I said. “And I want you to be able to trust that I’m not going to change my mind.”

“Okay,” she whispered.

“Chanel.” My heart thudded in my chest. I lowered myself to one knee in front of her. “Will you be my wife?”

She shuddered a gasp and swayed on the spot. “Are you serious?”

“Yes,” I said. “I know I don’t have a ring, right now, but once I’ve moved I’ll buy one, and the minute you’re in Hawaii I’ll put it on your finger. I can’t picture another minute without you in my life. The past two weeks have been Hell for me. I want nothing more than to be with you. To be your man. Will you marry me?”

“Yes,” she whimpered. “Yes, I will.” She dragged me up from the carpet and threw her arms around my neck, peppering my face with kisses. “Yes. Forever. Yes!”

Elation bubbled through me and dissolved the fear, chipping away at the already cracked wall inside my soul.

I lifted her in my arms and kissed her, another soul-searing embrace, then walked her over to the bed. “My fiancé,” I said.

“I love you,” she replied.

We fell onto the bed together, giggling, and her half-weeping from the joy of it all. Tomorrow I’d leave, but next month, next year, forever? Chanel and I would be one. And that was all that mattered to me.

Epilogue

Chanel

We didn’t get to spend too much time on Hawaii’s white sand beaches together, but today was the exception. Today was our day, and Paula’s too, though she was only interested in sunbathing at the moment, with the soft lap of waves on the shore for company.

I didn’t blame her. She got less holiday than Ryan did, and I loved it that my friend had come out to spend time with me the minute she got the chance.

“You’re smiling,” Ryan said, and squeezed my hand.

I dug my bare toes into the warm sand. “I’ve been smiling ever since I moved here,” I said. “I get to be with you, Ryan. Why wouldn’t I smile?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” he said. “I’ve heard so many rumors about women freaking out during this process.” He looked out over the ocean blue, and smiled himself.

A soft breeze tangled my hair and I rested my head against his shoulder. “What process? The moving is done. Living on post is pretty much a blast,” I said. Though, some of the other wives could be a little nosy at times.

I’d already been commissioned to spruce up the insides of quite a few of the homes. The women on Oahu loved my style and pictures of my portfolio had pretty much gone viral – if it could be called that – on the Hawaii Military Wives Facebook page.

I had business coming out of my ears if I wanted it, and more from the Navy itself. Everything had gone well so far, but my insides clenched with nerves. Not cold feet. No, this was something else entirely.

“Ryan?” I tugged on his arm and he turned back to me again.

He kissed my forehead, then raised my left hand in his and tapped the engagement ring on my finger. “This process. Preparing for the wedding.”

“Oh, that? No, I’m fine with that. I didn’t want anything huge, anyway,” I said. “And I’ve got my little helper to put to work when the time is right.” I nodded to Paula, who’d taken up residence on a beach chair under a floral umbrella.

“If you can drag her away,” Ryan replied, laughing.

“Hmm, that might be a challenge. But she’s so excited for the wedding,” I said. “Are you sure it’s not too soon? I don’t want to make you feel pressured.”

“Make me feel pressured?” Ryan laughed. “Chanel, I was the one who asked you, remember? The sooner we get married, the happier I’ll be. Trust me, this can’t come quickly enough.” He lowered his voice and drew me close, gaze hot, now. “I can’t wait to make love to you once you’re Mrs. Baker. Officially my wife. Mine for the rest of our lives.”

“I can’t wait either,” I breathed, and brushed my lips over his.

He pulled me tight to his chest and deepened the kiss. His fingers tangled in my hair, and his heart beat against mine. God, every minute with him was precious. Every second. He hadn’t been deployed yet, but that day would eventually come and I would have to get used to it.

We broke apart and I ran my hands up his torso, bringing them to rest on his broad shoulders. “Only two weeks. I can’t believe it. I can’t believe I’ll be Mrs. Baker.” I sighed. “I feel like it’s impossible that I’m this happy.”

“It’s not. I’m this happy too,” Ryan replied, and grinned at me. Every day we spent together saw him lose his inhibitions. At first, it’d started with stories about his time out in the sands, then progressed to him telling jokes, laughing, letting go of all the formal ticks he had back in Meek Springs.

The glimpses of the man I’d seen underneath the façade, the one I’d fallen for, had come into full view. Vistas of Ryan Baker, and now with me included.

Finally, he could relax and I could talk to him about everything we’d held back from each other. The connection we had had only strengthened over time.

“I have a question,” Ryan said, and tucked my hair behind my ear.

“Shoot.”

“You’ve been acting differently the last few days. Is there any particular reason for that? Cold feet?”

“What?!” I blinked at him. “Of course not. I want to marry you more than I want anything.”

“Okay,’ he said, but the uncertainty remained. “You’ve just seemed a little distant. And you’ve been spending a lot of time in the bathroom.”

“I like long bubble baths,” I said, but I couldn’t hide the blush that crept up my throat. A patchwork which exposed my lie. I’d wanted to wait longer than this before telling him the truth. I’d figured it could wait until after the wedding or… gawd, I didn’t have any real plan here.

“Okay, now I know something’s up.” He took a step back and tilted his head to the side, a frown wrinkling his brow. “What’s going on?”

“I – I didn’t want it to come out like this,” I said, and looked around.

The white sandy beach was backed by a row of palm trees behind us, and the ocean in front. It was peaceful, though a cabana in the distance brought a little energy to the setting. Music drifted across, even now, an hour before noon.

“Chanel, talk to me. We’re going to be married. Keeping secrets from each other is dangerous.”

That was true – I’d almost lost him because he’d never understood that I could handle the naval stuff, that I could understand his respect for duty. If I’d told him about my father sooner, perhaps things would’ve been different or gone smoother.

“Chanel?”

“Okay, you’re right. I shouldn’t have kept it from you. I didn’t want to put more pressure on you than I already have, and I was afraid it would throw you off at work.” I struggled to bring the words up.

“Don’t worry,” he said. “I think I might know what’s bothering you.”

“What?” My heart skipped at least twenty beats. Good God, why was this so nerve-wrecking? He was my fiancé. I could tell him anything. “You know?”

“I found the letter,” he said. “And I spoke to her on the phone.”

“Huh?”

“Chanel, relax. I know your mother is coming to the wedding,” he said. “I was sure you’d think I wouldn’t approve, but I do. I’m glad that you two are giving each other the chance to straighten things out.”

My mind tried to catch up. That was what he thought I wanted to discuss? God, that made this even more uncomfortable.

“I understand that your mother made life pretty miserable for you, but she won’t have a chance to do that anymore, and it’s a good idea to try to reconcile,” he said. “Trust me, I lost my mother and it’s a terrible feeling. I wouldn’t wish that on you and that guilt that would come after if you two didn’t at least try to make things right.”

My jaw dropped and I worked to get moisture back into my mouth. “Yeah,” I said, lamely.

“So, you can relax. I don’t hate your mother, and, well, I guess I can’t say she doesn’t hate me yet. We’ll see when she gets here,” he said. “When is she arriving, by the way?”

“A few days before the wedding,” I replied. In fact, I’d been so stressed out about the real issue on my mind I’d totally forgotten to tell him about it. It was sweet that he thought this was my issue, and even sweeter that he wanted to be supportive even though my mom had been super rude to him.

“It’s not like you invited an ex to our wedding,” Ryan said, then sniffed. “Wait a second, you didn’t, right?”

“Of course not!”

Ryan laughed and hugged me again. “Relax, I’m kidding. You’re wound up so damn tight.” He massaged a line up my back and down it to the base of my spine.

I had a choice. I could tell him about the issue or leave it until after the wedding, but chances were he wouldn’t keep quiet if he sensed something was off with me. I couldn’t buy myself two weeks with long bubble baths. And I didn’t want to have to avoid answering questions until then.

It was now or never.

I pulled out of the hug and he held me at arm’s length. “That’s not what’s wrong, is it?” he said.

I shook my head. It was like the Sahara Desert had transported into my mouth.

“Lay it on me,” he said, and folded his arms. “Whatever it is, we’ll deal with it together.”

I swallowed, then forced a smile, then lost it again. “I’m pregnant.”

Ryan’s eyes went round as dinner plate. “You’re what?”

“Pregnant. I found out at the beginning of the week. I – yeah.”

“Are you serious?” Ryan let out a fantastic whoop.

Paula jerked upright in her beach chair and whacked her head against the umbrella. “What the hell? You trying to give me a heart attack?”

“Is it okay?” I asked. “I mean, are you happy?”

“Happy?! Happy! Are you kidding me? This is the best news. Chanel, I can’t think of anything that would make me happier than marrying you and having a baby with you,” he said, and dragged me into another hug. He positively vibrated with joy. “You’re my soul mate, I swear to God.”

“Oh thank goodness,” I said, and let out a breath. “I was worried it would only stress you out more.”

“No, this is the best news possible.” He kissed my forehead. “We’re going to have a baby. I’ll be a dad and you a mom, and we’ll have a beautiful baby boy or girl. Shit, this is making me mushy all over. Damn.” He laughed and kissed me again.

I’d be a mom, and I wouldn’t be one who restricted her child from doing what they loved.

“All right,” Paula yelled. “That’s it. I can’t get a minute’s peace with you two love birds around.” She whipped off her oversized floppy hat and marched over, sarong whipping in the wind created by her pace.

She halted in front of us and fisted her hips. “What’s going on here? You’d better have a darn good reason for giving me this bump.” She gestured to the minuscule mark on her forehead where she’d connected with the umbrella. “You’ve ruined me for the wedding. How am I supposed to be the maid of honor with a lump like this marring my features?”

“You mean how are you supposed to get the cobwebs blown off your –?”

Paula gave an indignant squawk. “Don’t you dare. I’m fine in the cobweb department thank you very much.” She sniffed. “Seriously, why do you two look like you’re about to spew rainbows and puppy dogs?”

“I’m pregnant,” I said, and Ryan squeezed my waist. He beamed over my head at Paula.

My friend’s mouth flopped open. “Are you shitting me?”

“Not even a little bit!” Ryan grinned from ear to ear. “It’s all real. We’re having a baby!”

Paula let out a squeal rivaling Ryan’s whoop and threw herself at me. She hugged me tight and practically squished all the air out of my lungs. “Oh my God,” she shrieked, and backed away. “This is the best news ever. You’re going to be a mom. I’ve got to call somebody and tell them!” She rushed off, kicking up sand with her tan bare feet.

“I’m going to be a mom,” I repeated. “And a wife.”

The things I’d never dreamed were possible had finally come true for me. All my life, I’d been drifting on the ocean, and Ryan, and his baby, my baby, had provided the anchor I needed.

Ryan slung his arm around my waist and I leaned my head against his shoulder, and I knew, we both did, that everything was how it was meant to be.

I wasn’t alone anymore. I was home.