Midway Between You and Me (Harlequin Super Romance)

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Midway Between You and Me (Harlequin Super Romance) Page 8

by Rogenna Brewer


  “Which is?”

  “Something you have to figure out for yourself. I’m going to be late,” she said, digging into the side pocket of her soft-sided briefcase. She handed him a business card. “You’ll catch up with me later?”

  “Definitely.”

  1400 Friday

  NAVAL STATION PEARL HARBOR

  Pearl Harbor, Hawaii

  “I THOUGHT WE’D BE MORE comfortable in here.” Captain Harris ushered Tam through the door of a small cluttered office to an equally small but less-cluttered conference room. “Please, make yourself comfortable, Professor Nguyen. Temporary office space is never ideal, but we’re trying to make do.”

  “Thank you, I’m fine,” Tam reassured him, setting her briefcase down beside her chair.

  “As you know, this is just a formality.”

  He’d already apologized several times for the inconvenience of having her flown out for the meeting. But the captain looked haggard, probably too busy to travel. And for her this was a chance for R and R. So she really didn’t mind.

  “Midway Islands became an ‘overlay’ refuge in 1988 while still under the jurisdiction of the Navy,” he continued. “With the closure of the Naval Air Facility the mission changed from national defense to wildlife conservation. The brass is calling this operation Bullets to Birds.”

  “I like it already—”

  “So do I,” said the man standing in the doorway.

  Tam sat in stunned silence.

  The captain checked his watch. “Lieutenant Prince has this annoying habit of always being precisely on time.”

  “Definitely,” she agreed, repeating the last word the lieutenant said to her before they’d parted company. No wonder he was so positive about catching up to her later.

  “Sorry ’bout that,” he apologized.

  He hadn’t taken his eyes off her since he appeared in the doorway. She couldn’t be sure, but she thought he winked when the captain wasn’t looking.

  Why hadn’t he just told her he’d be here?

  “I understand you two have already met,” Captain Harris said. “Lieutenant Prince is here to answer any questions you may have on the role of the Seabee detachment.”

  “It’s always a pleasure to see you again, Professor.”

  If there was such a thing as a seductive handshake, he’d mastered it. His words emphasized her title, but his touch emphasized the pleasure.

  It wasn’t until Captain Harris cleared his throat that she tugged. And the lieutenant let go. He sat down opposite her. Long, lean. Athletic. He stretched out his legs under the table. The first time he tapped her toe she thought it happened by accident. The second time, she kicked him.

  The captain handed out thick reams of paper on the proposed transition. Tam flipped through to find the Navy’s responsibilities detailed down to the letter. Of course, she’d known this was the Navy’s project, but she was just beginning to realize this was the Seabee’s project. One Seabee in particular.

  “Care to give us the history of Midway Islands, Lieutenant,” Captain Harris invited.

  The lieutenant looked as though he’d just been put on the spot, but he recovered smoothly. “Late 1800s Marines were sent to Midway to evict squatters—”

  “From exploiting bird life,” Tam added, thinking to rescue him. “Midway was the last link in a global telegraph system laid by the Commercial Pacific Cable Company—"

  “Inaugurated by a message from President Teddy Roosevelt on July 4, 1903,” he said, cutting her off.

  She accepted the challenge with a tilt of her chin. “In the short-lived clipper era of the thirties Midway was a landing site for Pan Am Clippers en route across the Pacific.”

  “August 1, 1941—” he leaned forward in his seat “—the United States was preparing for war and Naval Air Station Midway Islands was commissioned. The islands are best known for what is considered to be the turning point in World War Two, the Battle of Midway.”

  Check.

  “You needn’t take pity on the lieutenant, Professor,” Captain Harris interrupted their byplay. “It’s rare that I don’t see him with some sort of book in his hand. And I never ask him to do anything he’s not capable of.” The captain’s gaze shifted to the lieutenant.

  There may have been one conversation on the surface in this room, but there were two undercurrents. The one that flowed between her and the lieutenant. And the one she felt between him and Captain Harris.

  “As detailed in the proposal in front of you,” Captain Harris continued, “we anticipate it will take up to three years to restore Midway Islands back to its natural habitat. At which time it will be turned over to the Department of the Interior, under the management of the Fish and Wildlife Service. The project will begin with the arrival of NMCB133 next week. Any questions?”

  Tam had plenty.

  But she’d only ask those pertaining to the islands.

  “This says your unit will rotate every six months,” she said. “Can you explain that in nonmilitary terms?”

  The lieutenant closed his proposal. “For an unaccompanied tour like this, a detachment serves six months before rotating back to homeport. Or at least that’s the way it’s supposed to work.” His gaze shifted to the captain.

  Again that undercurrent. Didn’t he want the job?

  “Unaccompanied?” she asked.

  “Without dependents,” he said, and anticipated her next question. “Without wives, husbands, families. In other words, you’ll have six different detachments in those three years.”

  So he wasn’t staying.

  “What about project continuity?”

  “It’ll go a lot smoother than it sounds. Since the battalion is managing the entire project, any necessary equipment will arrive with the first detachment and leave with the last. The incoming company commander will be briefed by the outgoing company commander and so on, with Alpha Dogs leading the way.”

  He was definitely the Alpha Male.

  “Dogs? You’ll have to excuse me, gentlemen—” she included both of them even if she wasn’t quite sure the lieutenant qualified “—I’m not up on all these military terms.”

  “Dog because this is not a glamorous job,” he said. “It’s mostly grunge work, demolition, earth-work, waste removal…a lot of sweat and cold showers,” he emphasized.

  She’d be happy to dump a bucket of ice on him right now.

  For being just a formality, the particulars took up the next two hours as they went through the project page by page. And all she could focus on was the fact the lieutenant would be spending the next six months on her island. Six months. Only six months.

  She wasn’t sure how she felt about that.

  What did it matter, anyway? In the end he’d rotate out like the rest of them.

  Captain Harris checked his watch again. “It’s getting late and I think we’ve gone over everything. Lieutenant, I’m going to assume you and the professor have it covered from here. I expect you two to work together very closely on this project.” The captain gathered his things. “I’ll leave you to lock up.”

  With that Captain Harris left them alone.

  “Well, this is awkward,” Tam admitted, tucking the proposal into her briefcase and pushing to her feet. “I don’t know if I was more surprised to bump into you at the Paper Tiger or meet up with you here.”

  The lieutenant stood, as well. “Not trying to back out of our date, are you?”

  “I’m afraid so.” She clung to her briefcase with both hands. “I may have given you the wrong impression when I called this morning. And again when I told Ginger you were my date this evening. I didn’t think I’d see you after tonight.”

  Hitching up his pant leg, he sat on the corner of the table nearest her. “I’m not a one-night-stand kind of guy, but I suppose I could make an exception if that’s what you’re hinting at.”

  Was he having a little fun at her expense because she was being so vague? Luckily she wasn’t the type to blush easily. She set
her briefcase on the table between them and replied, “That’s not what I had in mind. And I think under the circumstances any relationship beyond professional would be uncomfortable for both of us. We’re going to be stranded on the same island for the next six months.”

  “I’ve been on islands before. I know how small they can get. So what did you have in mind when you called this morning? Other than hit and run?”

  Tam fidgeted with the handle of her briefcase. Nothing had changed except their circumstances. She still needed his help to find her father. She just didn’t know how to approach the subject now. Or how to expose herself emotionally to a man who would soon become a part of her everyday life.

  “It was nothing,” she said, discouraging him from digging deeper. “How long have you known about your orders to Midway?” Before he’d landed on her island? That would explain why he left his knife.

  “This morning. Just before I bumped into you.”

  “Why didn’t you say something?”

  “When were you going to tell me about my knife?”

  She’d just lost her leverage.

  “That is why you asked me to dinner, right? To break the news? Customs confiscated it when you got here.”

  “I suppose I owe you an explanation—”

  “What do you say we call it even?” he offered.

  “You’re not angry?”

  “Why should I be?”

  “I didn’t mean to be deceptive—”

  “I’d call it more of a delay of the inevitable. Either you’d get around to telling me in your own time, or sooner or later I’d find out about it in mine. Either way we both wound up here, so why not make the best of it? Come on,” he said, pushing to his feet. “Let’s grab a bite to eat.”

  AFTER THE LIEUTENANT locked up the office, they left the clapboard building and passed a dozen others just like it. He saluted periodically with his right hand. Tam noticed he kept her to his left side and intentionally followed a path along sidewalks that put him curbside, as if he were a barrier between her and on-coming traffic. This was the kind of man who protected instinctively.

  But was this the kind of man she wanted to trust?

  Outside the base they headed in the general direction of the nearby Moanalua Shopping Center. “Where would you like to eat?” he asked.

  “Do you know what I would dearly love right now?”

  “Oh, no,” he responded, spotting the street vendor on the corner. “Not a hot dog.” But he soon gave in to the inevitable. “Two, please,” he said, reaching into his back pocket. “What do you want on yours?”

  “Everything.”

  “One with the works. And one plain.” He opened his wallet and hesitated. “Where’s the nearest ATM?” he asked the hot-dog man.

  Tam clicked her tongue. “Don’t worry about it. After all, I did ask you to dinner first.” She dug through her briefcase for her billfold.

  “But then I asked you,” he argued.

  “Hot dogs were my idea.”

  “Would somebody please pay up?” the impatient hot-dog vendor asked.

  “I have the money,” Tam said, handing it over and effectively putting an end to their nonsensical argument.

  “Thank you for the hot dog,” Bowie said, handing over hers.

  “You’re welcome for the hot dog.” She smiled up at him, pleased she’d gotten her way. They continued walking up the street with the setting sun over their shoulders. “How come you don’t have a dime in your pocket? Been stuffing too many g-strings? Not judging, just asking,” she qualified.

  “I guess you could say that, but not really. I lost a bet.” He polished off his hot dog with the third bite.

  “What was the bet?”

  “That I could scrounge up breakfast for the squad when we landed on Midway.”

  “I take it the chocolate bars and potato chips didn’t go over too well. You may seriously want to consider counseling for your sexual and gambling addictions.” She kept as straight a face as possible when she said it. “Not to mention your drug habit.”

  “Oh, yeah?” he countered. “You might want to ask yourself why your favorite food is a phallic symbol.” Tossing the wrapper in a nearby receptacle, he brushed his hands in triumph.

  She choked and wound up sticking her nose in the works. And then she couldn’t stop laughing.

  “Hold steady.” He took her napkin from her and wiped relish off the tip of her nose, his touch matter-of-fact. And even though there were sexual undertones to their verbal sparring, she appreciated that he kept things light.

  She waved the napkin away. “I can’t eat this anymore,” she declared, laughing, then threw it away.

  “Good! Now we can go get a real meal. I’m starving.”

  “You did that on purpose,” she accused, wiping the tears from her eyes with the back of her hand. “Oh,” she sighed, catching her breath. “Just for that I’m going to make you go shopping first.”

  He stopped on the sidewalk and turned to her. “Lead the way.”

  Several stores later he’d relieved her of her briefcase and numerous shopping bags. They no longer even attempted to keep their purchases straight.

  “Let’s go in here,” she said, picking the cheesiest tourist trap she could find so she’d be able to finish off her list. This time he actually groaned and she realized he’d reached his limit. “Just this one more,” she pleaded, dragging him through the door. “Besides, you still have to pick up something for your niece and nephew,” she reminded him. “And you know your wardrobe won’t be complete without a Hawaiian shirt.”

  Tam picked up chocolate-covered macadamia nuts for Katie. She found a cute muumuu for Bowie’s niece. He picked up a Hang Ten T-shirt for his nephew while she searched racks of bright-colored clothes for the gaudiest shirt she could find for him. She came across something equally garish and held it up. “Try this on.”

  “A man skirt?” he said in alarm from the next rack over.

  “It’s called a sarong. Besides, it’s gender neutral.”

  He didn’t look as if he believed her.

  “Don’t you think he’d look sexy in this?” she asked the older couple in matching leisure wear by her side.

  “He’ll look ridiculous,” the old man grumbled.

  “I think he’ll look hot,” the wife said. “Try it on,” she urged.

  The old man cupped a hand to his mouth. “Run!” he encouraged playfully.

  Tam walked up to the lieutenant and handed him the garment. “So are you going to run? Or are you going to be a man about it?”

  “You can run from ’em, but you can’t hide from ’em,” the old man offered sympathetically. “May as well try it on.”

  Bowie grumbled good-naturedly all the way to the dressing room.

  Tam picked up a plastic lei and brought it over to the louvered door. He’d tossed his uniform shirt over the top.

  “No peeking,” he said as she reached in and hung the lei on an exposed hook.

  “I’m not tall enough. Anyway, I’m not interested.” She draped his shirt over her arm so it wouldn’t fall to the floor when he opened the door. “Step out here where I can see you—don’t be shy. And don’t forget the lei.”

  “I’m not coming out there in this.”

  “You don’t want me to come in there, do you?” she offered. “Because I’d be happy to bring more stuff for you to try on,” she threatened, knowing he’d had enough of that already when she’d helped him pick out civilian clothes to get him through a week of leisure hours.

  He’d insisted on neutral colors with a preference for khaki and white. Some blue. And she’d insisted on at least one green shirt to go with his eyes. He’d given in only after she convinced him khaki went with anything and everything, even green. Men! They just couldn’t see the obvious.

  The hardest part were his socks. They’d gone to three stores for the one brand in the one color he would wear, white. White socks were everywhere, the man was simply too picky for his own g
ood.

  “I’m counting to three,” she stated.

  He pushed through the louvered door.

  She’d been prepared to have a good laugh at his expense. After all, she’d earned it shopping with him, but… He stood there, barefoot and bare chested with the sarong slung low on his hips. He stood akimbo, the look on his face comical.

  But the look on hers must have been awestruck.

  “Had enough fun?” he asked.

  The older lady started clapping and complained to her husband that he’d never looked like that in all the years they’d been married.

  Few men did. He had the body of a swimmer, incredibly tight pecs and abs. And his biceps and broad shoulders and narrow hips weren’t bad, either—in fact, they were perfect. When he moved, the slit in the sunset-colored skirt showed off hints of one muscular leg all the way up to his tan line.

  “I’m buying it,” Tam declared. “Consider it a welcome-to-the-island gift.”

  “Over my dead body.” He stalked back to the dressing room.

  “And a lei,” she added as if he hadn’t said anything.

  The stripper had wanted the sailor to look GQ?

  That would have been a mistake. You could make a man over on the outside, but you couldn’t make him over on the inside. And inside this man was no sissy boy, not even in a “man skirt.”

  For a moment she forgot why she was holding his khaki uniform shirt and it caught her off guard. She brushed the rank and insignia on the collar as if it would burn at the touch.

  In a city like this where military uniforms were almost commonplace, Bowie Prince attracted his fair share of female attention. She’d noticed heads turn. And had felt a little feminine pride—even if he wasn’t really her man.

  She hadn’t recognized him in his uniform at first. For one thing, he’d cleaned himself up with a shave and a haircut. For another, she’d avoided all eye contact with the uniformed crowd at the Paper Tiger.

  She draped his shirt back over the dressing room door and snagged the sarong.

 

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