Cocky Soldier: A Military Romance (Cocker Brothers of Atlanta Book 6)

by Faleena Hopkins

  “No, I didn’t see it,” I hastily say. Which is true. I heard it, but I never looked at it. “Sorry. Won’t happen again. What’s up?”

  “Come over.”

  Neither of us knows what to do with my delayed response.

  After a moment of silence, he asks, “You there?”

  “I’m here.”

  “You’re mad at me,” he exhales, sounding more human than usual.

  “I’m just tired.” After hearing this lame excuse, I correct myself, “No, it’s not that. I can’t just flip the switch like you can.”

  “What are you talking about? We do this all the time.”

  Not all the time. We do it rarely. And whenever you want to.

  Tucking my feet underneath me I uneasily explain, “No, we work during the days together and often you’re not even there when I’m working at your desk doing administrative work, and then later at night you’ll call or text me, sometimes, and I’ll come over.”

  “What’s the fucking difference?” he grumbles.

  “There’s a space of time between, where I’m able to separate work from…play. And tonight was all work, a very heavy and important night, and to come over now when I know you don’t want anything serious and probably won’t even ask me to spend the night, well, I just don’t feel up to that right now.”

  And…inwardly exhale.

  Wow.

  That took a lot of courage.

  Is that how I’ve been secretly feeling? I wasn’t even aware that our unspoken arrangement bothered me until that came tumbling out.

  There’s a charged silence on the other end of the line, but I keep my mouth shut.

  Is he ever going to speak?

  Biting my lip I wait.

  Did he hang up?

  I think he might be waiting for me to cave in. Thinking that maybe I’ll get nervous my job is at stake and then say, okay, I’ll come over. But the idea of driving to his house right now and having him inside me isn’t remotely as appetizing as this Brie. In fact, I know I’d be disappointed. You can’t reheat this stuff and have it taste as good the second time.

  Finally he grumbles, “Suit yourself.”

  “I’ll see you tomorrow, Bryan.”

  He hangs up. I roll myself into a ball and start rocking, taking deep breaths. My fingers are shaky as I speed-dial Cecily. After three rings I hear her sleepy voice. “Meagan?”

  “Hi,” I whisper.

  “You okay?”

  “No. Yes. I don’t know. Maybe? I’m just…I’m not happy, Cess.”

  I can hear the bed shifting under her as she sits up. “Hang on, I’m going downstairs. Just stay there, okay? Have to get my slippers on.”

  “Thank you,” I whisper.

  In no time at all her voice is much more alert. “Alright, I’m here.”

  “You on the couch?”

  “Yeah, why?”

  “You have grandma’s crocheted blanket?”

  “Hang on.”

  I have a hot pink one, she a yellow one, since those have been our favorite colors since we were little, even before Grandma Marnie gave us these one Christmas. She’d made them herself and while the knots aren’t perfect, they were looped and cinched with love. My older sister was in high school in her ‘have to be cool’ stage, but she fell to pieces with gratitude when we unwrapped them. Devin got one, too, his dark blue. Cecily has it tucked away in a wooden box where it doesn’t tear our hearts out.

  “Okay, I’m wrapped up in it,” my sister says.

  “Me too. All cozy.”

  “So, what’s going on, kid?”

  Biting my lip, I whisper, “Tonight was hard.”

  “The opening? When you get your own place, it’ll be hard then, too.”

  “I’ll be making the calls then. I won’t have to second guess my decisions.”

  “Oh, honey, you’ll probably second guess them then, too.”

  “You know I won’t. Sure I might learn from them, but I always trust my gut the first time.”

  Cecily’s patient with me, her voice gentle as she explains, “This is good experience for you so that one day you can avoid making avoidable mistakes.”

  “We had a hostess tonight who got drunk!”

  “Oh no! Does she have a problem?”

  “She has to. I smelled alcohol on her during two of the training days and I mistakenly diagnosed it as a hangover but now I think she was drinking during them, and they began at eight in the morning!”

  “How sad. But if she does, you know she can’t help it. Be firm but kind to her.”

  “Well, I got one out of two right. And guess which. If we keep her on I’ll try and be gentler, but I was so angry! Tonight was crucial!”

  “Honey, if she’s an alcoholic it doesn’t matter how crucial the day or not, she will drink.”

  Sighing I mutter, “And Cess, I don’t want to go over to his house right now, but part of me is saying I should.”

  My sister’s tone changes immediately to one of warning. “I thought you stopped sleeping with him last month.”

  “Yeah, well, that didn’t stick.”

  “Meagan,” she groans. “If you keep giving it away!”

  “He won’t buy it, I know. That’s why I said no. And I’m also tired of how he speaks to me.”

  “You know how I feel about that! But do you listen, no. Maybe this will be the last time. He asked you over?”

  “Yes. And I was eating the most delicious cheese from Florence, Italy, and now it’s gone to waste because I’ve lost my appetite.”

  “Eat the cheese and throw the casual sex in the trash. I know it’s hard. It’s too lonely in your place.”

  God, that hurt to hear, so like any self-respecting, warm-blooded woman would, I lie through my teeth, “I’m not lonely. I have my work. It’s all I need.”

  “You don’t want a happy relationship?”

  Biting a cracker I mutter, “I guess I want it all.”

  “You deserve it all. But only a good man will give it to you.”

  “There are none left.”

  She lets out a different kind of sigh that lets me know her patience is disappearing. “You’ve always had a thing for unavailable men.”

  On a deep and wonderful stretch of my legs I ask her, “What’s wrong with that? Who doesn’t love a challenge?”

  Kevin’s distant crying begins, as if he wants to save his mother from strangling his aunt’s neck. “Oh, hon, I’ve gotta go. He just woke up. Poor li’l guy caught the sniffles at a play date.”

  “Awwww, how cute is that?”

  I can hear her smiling as she quickly says, “I took so many pictures! They were adorable. You okay?”

  “I’m better now. I was about to cave and go over.”

  “Do not do that!”

  “I won’t. Go get Kev. I love you.”

  “I love you, too. Don’t go over. Sleep in your bed. I’m calling in the morning to check.”

  “I’m hanging up now!”

  “Bye!”

  The line goes dead. After a moment of staring at my cheese and crackers, I mumble to it, “I’m not going to eat you. Guess you got lucky. I sure didn’t.”

  Jeremy

  6:00 A.M. sharp I get a text from my new lady boss that makes me jump out of bed, fully alert and ready for battle.

  All last night I waited for a text about my schedule and didn’t hear from her. I began to believe she’d talked Marchand out of hiring me and I didn’t like that idea at all. I became certain she’d told him about our phone call and he’d nixed the job offer, and neither of them were going to let me know. Strange being worried about something like this. But going back to days filled with nothing brought on a depression I couldn’t shake. Fell asleep in dread. Had a dream I was trapped under dead bodies. They became zombies. The worst part was they weren’t strangers.

  “Shake it off, Jeremy. You’re okay.”

  Be at the restaurant at half past eight to learn the computer. Meagan.

&nbs
p; Aslan’s head pops up from the foot of the bed. He sees me sliding on my sweats and hoodie, and his massive frame clamors down, huge paws thudding onto the carpet two at a time.

  Slap the leash on his chain and we’re off and running.

  Fucking nightmares. When are they going to end? The war against my demons is worse than any on a battlefield because the fighting never stops.

  My head thinks I’m in danger.

  And in a way, I am…if I believe it.

  So I run.

  Get into my body. The tangible. The touch. The real. Everything else is illusion.

  The past isn’t happening.

  The future is a fantasy.

  The only thing real is the present.

  When we get home Aslan makes a beeline for his water dish as soon as I open the front door. I follow him, panting just as hard as he is, and swing the fridge open for my Britta pitcher. Jake got me into this, years ago. There were so many times I had rank water when I was overseas that this is the one luxury I cared about, the only thing I looked forward to buying. Got a shit-ton of extra filters so I’d never run out. I may have gone overboard.

  Picking up my phone I find another text from Meagan.

  Did you get my text?

  “Shit,” I mutter, realizing I should have replied.

  Any normal person would have known to do that.

  Typing quickly I send her one word:

  Done.

  Staring at it, I wait. She immediately replies back.

  What the hell does that mean? Done?

  “Well shit,” I grumble, irritated with my lack of communication skills.

  I want this job. Can’t fuck it up.

  I text her:

  Done means I’m in. I’ll be there. See you soon.

  I wait for a response and five minutes later decide none is en route. Tossing the phone onto my couch on the way to the bathroom I walk my sweaty body into the shower and turn up the heat. “Fuck that feels good.”

  Let it wash over everything.

  Take the nightmares away.

  Today I soap up like I did when there was a line waiting.

  While rubbing the insides of my ears with my towel, I open the door and hurry to my closet. Glancing to Aslan, I ask, “What were they wearing last night?” He lumbers onto his half-crushed dog bed in the corner of my room, staring at me. “All black, right? Safe bet.”

  I’ve got Jake’s black suit slacks from last night. I give ‘em a sniff, mumble, “These’ll do,” and search for a shirt. The only one I’ve got is a black tank top. I toss it in the air and catch it before sliding it on.

  Padding out to my phone I call my brother. Jake answers right away like he was waiting for my call. “Hey. How’d it go?”

  “Good. Might have to get you a new pair of shoes though. The suit should take the wear, but jury’s still out.”

  He chuckles, thinking I got into trouble or something. “Oh yeah? What’d you do?”

  “Don’t tell the whole family?”

  “Of course. You okay?”

  “I got a job. Bartending. New restaurant. It’s no big deal. Need black shoes today, so I’m using yours.”

  “Holy shit, Jeremy, that’s great!” I hit the speaker button and start putting on my socks because I can tell he’s going to give me a speech. “I remember when you bartended. You rocked that shit! And you loved it, right? This is the best news, man. I’m so fuckin’ happy for you. We’ve been worried. All of us. How’d it happen? Wait…I’m confused. You applied for a job last night? That’s why you needed the suit? Thought it had something to do with a girl.”

  “Not exactly,” I smirk as I shove his dress shoes on.

  “Then what?”

  “Look, don’t tell the family yet. It might not work out.”

  “I already said I wouldn’t. I won’t tell anybody. I just want you happy, man. We all do.”

  “I know.” I take the phone off speaker to bring it to my ear. “I was at a grand opening last night and some dweeb couldn’t hack the stress when he was four deep at the bar. I jumped back there to stop the bleeding, and the owner happened to see me at work. Offered me a job. No big deal.”

  Jake can tell I don’t want to get my hopes up. He forces a casual tone. “That’s awesome. Take my shoes. Have fun. Let me know how it goes.”

  “You won’t tell anyone?”

  “Nope.”

  “Justin knows.”

  “What the fuck!?” I start cracking up. “Seriously, Jeremy, what the fuck!?”

  “He was at the event. It wasn’t planned. Don’t be jealous.”

  Jake mutters, “I’m not jealous.”

  “Yeah you are. Pussy. I’ll call you later.”

  I hang up on him swearing under his breath.

  Quick brush of the teeth and I kneel down to be at my best friend’s eye-level. “Hey Aslan, I’ve got someplace to be for a couple hours. Maybe a few. I don’t know. You guard the fortress, okay?”

  Poor guy’s staring at me like I’m never coming home.

  I give his generous neck a hug. “Love ya, buddy. You’re in command while I’m gone.”

  Snatching up my keys I head out.

  Meagan

  As the Lyft driver pulls up to the restaurant, golden morning sunlight steams in and illuminates the beauty of Le Marchand’s decor. Today I feel as good as that view looks.

  I slept as though I had no problems. Passed out as soon as I sunk into my cozy bed, and didn’t wake up once before the alarm did its job. The stretch I enjoyed after I silenced the ring felt amazing.

  What the hell?

  It’s only seven-thirty.

  What is Jeremy doing here?

  “Thank you,” I tell the Lyft driver, gathering my purse, eyes darting over to drink in our new employee’s attire. He’s leaning against a stone wall beneath the restaurant’s name, his face down as he reads something on his phone, muscles rippling on his right arm as he swipes the screen with his thumb and frowns in concentration.

  I call out, “A tank top? Really?”

  His eyes meet mine from under his brow. “Too sexy?”

  Sighing I shut the car door and pull my huge ring of keys out. There are ones to my sister and parents’ house, Bryan’s house, his storage unit, the restaurant, the safe, the back door, and to my house and garage. In between searching for the right one I glance to Jeremy. “You’re early.”

  “I didn’t want to be late.”

  “Well you overachieved that goal,” I mutter, sliding the correct key into the lock. “Cathy isn’t here yet, so I guess you’ll have to wait a whole hour for her to arrive.”

  He follows me in. We look at each other and I sigh, heading off. His chuckle behind me whips me around to walk backwards with my arms flying up. “What?!”

  “Just happy to be here,” he smiles.

  My head cocks as I try to decide if he meant that or was being sarcastic. I really can’t tell with this guy.

  “You know what, Jeremy? I was having a great morning until five minutes ago.” Stopping in the center of a dozen clean and empty tables I point to a corner of the room. “Why don’t you sit at that booth and wait for Cathy. If you stay out of my way we’ll get along just fine…ish.”

  “Fine-ish?” he asks with raised eyebrows.

  “Yes.”

  “We can’t be friends?”

  “Do you always irritate your friends?”

  A grin flashes as he glances away to hide it, raking his right hand through his thick, dark hair. The tank top is tucked into his slacks, but there’s no belt. He doesn’t need one. Those pants fit his narrow waist and flat stomach perfectly. “Sorry Boss. I was just being me.” Jeremy looks up with sincerity in his eyes. “I’ll knock it off. I want this. So if you tell me to sit in that booth, then that’s where I’ll be.”

  His mask came down so quickly it’s jarring. We stare at each other for a few seconds as I sink into the depth of his compelling gaze. What’s his story? There’s something underneath those
looks that I can’t put my finger on. Has he had a hard life?

  I blink away from him. “Great. Thank you.”

  I’d planned on being here early so I could enjoy the quiet and some alone-time, get grunt work out of the way in order to enjoy a lazy Sunday afternoon at home before I have to be back here tonight for the real grand opening, the one meant for the public.

  We were originally going to be closed on Sundays but Bryan decided the weekends were too lucrative to shut down.

  This is the only day of the week when my heart craves being lazy. And I think our employees would be happier and no one would fault us.

  “They’re not ‘our’ employees though, are they, Meagan?” I mutter under my breath while answering email in the back office. “Nope. It’s not your call. Nothing is your call.”

  Did I forget to drink coffee today?

  No, I couldn’t have.

  Holy crap I forgot.

  Hitting send I rise, stretch, glancing at the clock. It’s been a half hour already?

  Heading into the dining room for the server station that houses our industrial sized espresso machine, I stop and peek in first, but discover the booth empty. Scanning the restaurant for Jeremy I spy the top of his head behind the bar.

  In order to catch him in the act of who knows what, I tiptoe over. He’s squatting in front of bottles, pointing between this one and that, saying aloud, “Okay, so vodkas are to the left, premiums mixed in. Have to fix that. Separate them. Give them distinction. Gins are behind vodka. Remember Bombay Sapphire is on the far end, for now.”

  Squatting and hunched, the broad expanse of his back is spread wide, every rippling muscle visible under that strip of black cloth he calls a work shirt. In an effort to make myself known I clear my throat. He shoots up about three feet as if a bomb went off by his ear, eyes sharpened with a fight behind them.

  My hands fly up as I cry out, “Whoa! It’s just me!” He doesn’t relax so I take a step behind the bar with him and soften my voice. “Hey, Jeremy, I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean to scare you. Truly.”

  He stares at me, his wall up. “You didn’t.”

  “I tiptoed.”

  “Why?”

  Guiltily I admit, “I thought you were up to something weird.”

  He glances around the bar. “Like what? Chasing cockroaches to keep them as pets?”