Infantry: A Military and Secret Baby Romance Novella

by Haley Pierce

  I kept dancing, swinging my hair side-to-side, pretending my eyes were just dancing to the beat and not actively searching for someone. But why did I care where Derek went? Even though he invited us here in the first place, he could do whatever he wanted.

  Trying not to trip over anyone on the now crowded dance floor, I wove around our group. Someone brushed my butt, but I ignored it, preoccupied with locating our lost host. I was suddenly aware of just how many bodies were cramped into this space and how my shoes stuck to the floor in some places. I craned my neck, standing on my tiptoes.

  “Who are you looking for?”

  I jumped at the voice in my ear, instantly regretting my tiptoe balancing act as my right foot slid from underneath me. An arm hooked around my waist and I stared up into my savior’s face, eyes unseeing for a moment as my head spun.

  “Woah. Careful there.”

  It was Megan. I sighed.

  She helped me regain my feet and cast me a devious look. “Scoping someone out?”

  “No,” I said. “Just looking for the washroom.”

  She looked at me skeptically, but pointed and said, “Over there. To the left. Under that giant neon arrow with the words washrooms underneath it.”

  After telling Megan to not follow me, I went to the washroom and freshened up. Following suit with a handful of other women, I spent a bit of time in front of a mirror, adjusting stray strands of hair, checking for fallen specks of mascara and eyeshadow creases, and reapplying my favorite MAC lip gloss. The girl next to me looked like she was reapplying everything.

  As soon as I rounded the corner from the washrooms to the main floor, my heart jarred in my chest.

  Not a dozen feet away from me, sitting at a section of the bar with a drink in hand, was Derek. Next to him sat a long-legged, blond-haired woman in a red dress that cut a deep V down her slender back. One elbow rested on the counter as she leaned into whatever conversation she was having with him. He smiled at her, they clashed glasses, they drank, and his hand fell to rest on her knee. She leaned closer to him.

  They looked good together. Handsome together.

  I spun on my heel—nearly threw myself off balance for the second time in the night by doing so—and went to find Megan and get another drink.

  After weaving in and out between sweaty bodies and wafts of alcohol-breath, I frowned and bit my lip. My group didn’t seem to be where I left them. I cut back out to the perimeter and began to circle the dance floor. After what felt like three loops around, I pulled into a section of the bar nestled in a corner of the club and ordered a shot of vodka. And then another one for good measure.

  Drinking a lot was what single people did, right? I could do that.

  A finger tapped me on the shoulder. I turned; ready to brush off the stranger asking to rub his body against mine.

  Dark eyes and a nonchalant smile greeted me. Derek.

  “What are you doing here alone?” He said.

  I turned back to the bar and spun the empty shot glass on its edge. “Went to the washroom and then couldn’t find them again. So I’m taking a break.”

  “I’ll join you.” He motioned to the bartender the one who was familiar with Derek and his friends.

  “What happened to the hot blond you were chatting up?” The words spilled from my mouth like vomit.

  I could feel his eyes bore into me.

  He chuckled, spreading his hands. “You saw that?”

  “In passing.”

  “Well, I’m here now. You’re much more interesting.” He took a shot that the bartender passed him. I turned to face him just in time to see him draw a thumb slowly over his lips to wipe away any stray beads of liquid.

  I wondered if he had kissed that woman with those lips and suddenly realized that I was perhaps a little drunk. Stupid Max, coaxing me to be more outgoing—now I found myself crushing on a playboy, and I couldn’t convince myself that I wasn’t crushing on him.

  “Come,” Derek held his hand out to me. It looked soft, and welcoming. “Dance with me.”

  “I was already dancing when you disappeared.”

  “Exactly, you haven’t danced with me yet,” he leaned towards me. “I’d be honored to dance with you, Claire. Even just for a moment.”

  My heart skipped a beat when he said my name. There was something about the way the ‘air’ floated off his tongue.

  “Fine,” I said, trying to hold on to a version of myself that didn’t care one way or another.

  I took his hand and he led me onto the dance floor. He smiled at me and began to move his body, rolling back his shoulders, and swaying just enough at the hips. I dipped my body down low, pulled myself up slowly with an undulation Tamara had taught me back in my clubbing days. It drew a smirk from him, and before I knew it our bodies breathed the same air, occupied nearly the same space. I could feel him even though we weren’t physically touching—it was a sensation I had totally forgotten.

  At some point his hand brushed my waist, lingered there for only a second, but long enough for me to cover it with my own. His other hand stayed at his side, but the look in his eyes suggested he only kept it there for my sake, out of politeness.

  When we drew closer in our dance, I could just about smell him; a natural musk with a tinge of spice. Whatever his cologne was, I wouldn’t mind smelling more of it as I started to sink into the warmth of his body that I could feel radiating from beneath his clothes.

  As I contemplated if this was getting too dangerous to continue and before I could excuse myself to find my wing-woman, Megan, he paused and spoke into my ear.

  “Let’s go outside and get some fresh air.”

  His breath on my ear made me tremble.

  I nodded and followed him to the exit.

  We dipped into the service road next to the club, just enough so that we weren’t standing in the middle of a sidewalk. I looked up into his eyes, aware of the heat rising in my cheeks and the speed of my pounding heart. His eyes were dark doorways to something mysterious, something alluring. Perhaps something dangerous. I wanted to know what it was.

  He caressed the side of my cheek with the back of his right hand, slow and soft. It was a gentle motion contrasting with his smile that seemed stuck halfway between devious and caring, although it could have been the alcohol confusing my judgement. His other hand drifted to the low of my back, seeming to fill it. He pulled me close and I fell into him, our bodies pressing together.

  Then, he tipped his head towards mine. First I tasted his breath and then his lips. Our lips fit together like pieces of a puzzle, and our mouths were complementing each other. And then I tasted his tongue.

  He tasted like liquor, but sweet, almost candied. His tongue teased me, dancing around mine when I was more than finished with dancing for the night. But his kisses were the perfect mix of sweet and airy, and hard with passion.

  I don’t know how long we made out there, but I felt like a teenager again. Derek held me tightly against him, his muscular arms pulling me close. I could feel him becoming aroused. I couldn’t say I wasn’t.

  Eventually we pulled away from each other. He looked at me, questioningly.

  I bit my tongue and looked to a crumpled soda can on the ground.

  “Well? Want to come over? I have wine.”

  I hadn’t had a one-night stand before. But would this be one if I had technically met him the day before? I knew the guy a little bit.

  “You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

  I wanted to. My brain was trying to convince me out of it, but my body was resolute in its position. I had enough stress in my life with work—I should live a little. You only live once, right? And when would be the next time I’d have the chance to be with a man like this? Handsome beyond words, fighting the good fight for our country, and an incredible kisser.

  “There you two are!”

  It was Shay and Megan, stumbling past a group of people, laughing and faces flushed.

  “Claire, Tamara wants you,” S
hay said. She looked to Derek. “What were you guys doing out here? Leaving?”

  “No,” I said, clasping my hands in front of me. “Just getting some air. I drank a bit.”

  “Well, come on. The night’s not over yet and we’ve been looking all over for you.”

  I hid a sigh under my breath. “Okay, okay.”

  They gestured me to follow and turned to head back into the building. I glanced over to Derek and shrugged with an apologetic smile. He matched my shrug and raised me a peck on the cheek, then folded my hand into his and led me back inside.

  Chapter 4

  I fought through a steady, not-quite-pounding headache the next morning. My morning coffee made it worse, but then an Advil helped make it better. I wasn’t sure what time I had gotten home, or what time I went to bed after satisfying an uncontrollable urge to grab a slice of pizza from the place on my block. The pizza had long since fallen short on my stomach’s need for food, so I stayed in my pajamas and made scrambled eggs with spiced peppers for a 1 pm breakfast. My eggs tasted a little bit off and I thought I might have forgotten to put salt, seeing that throughout the entire cooking process my mind was replaying the events of the night before.

  Derek sneaking up behind me at the bar and asking me to dance; the way our bodies danced together like the ebbs and flows of tides from the same sea; the way he tasted and the aroma he carried. I wondered if he was thinking about me right now, too.

  My phone beeped from across the dining room table as I was shoving another helping of eggs into my mouth. I leaned over to see the notification text scrolling across my screen before it faded to black. In a moment of haste, I ended up knocking over a stack of work papers. It was a text message from an unknown number.

  I tapped open the message.

  Hey, Claire. Hope you aren’t too hungover today. Last night was great. Dinner tonight?

  I couldn’t decide if I should smile or frown at it.

  Another beep came sounding from my phone as a new message appeared: P.S. This is Derek.

  I typed back,

  I’ve had worse, and I see alcohol doesn’t affect your memory either.

  I finished off the last bit of my breakfast while staring at the screen, waiting for it to light up again.

  Ten minutes later I finally got a response,

  Honestly, I had to ask Tamara after you left. Would have asked you myself, but I was also trying to impress you.

  I went through the non-Derek details from last night after I read the message. Things got a little heated when a girl took Shay’s drink from the counter, claiming it was hers. I recall trying to help, or thinking about helping, but it was really Megan who defused the situation and decided that it was time to call it a night. The three of us left early and Tamara stayed back. She was holding hands with Rod, or Rob, or whatever his name was.

  Hardly seconds later came his reply,

  So, what do you say? I know a great Greek restaurant downtown. It’s been in the newspaper before. Good reviews, not bad.

  Now it was his turn to wait for a reply.

  Dinner at a Greek place with a guy I nearly went home with last night? I swirled coffee around in my mouth. What exactly were his intentions? Was he actually interested in me, or just trying to recreate the opportunity we missed last night? But maybe even the latter wasn’t bad, for a change. Maybe a little twist and adventure would do me good? But what if he was like my ex? Work wasn’t the only reason I didn’t pursue dating.

  I called Megan and asked her for her opinion. She laughed and told me, in a very serious tone, to follow my heart. Then she reminded me that dinner was just dinner and that I could always go home afterwards if I didn’t like him or where the night was going, and that it was absurd to seriously fear he’d turn out to be like the jerk I dated all that time ago. Megan made sense, but I called Shay after anyway. She basically said the same thing and also took the opportunity to tease me a bit about it. The usual support received from friends.

  I reread his texts and then sent,

  Sure. Message me the time and place. I’ll meet you there.

  His response read,

  7pm. The corner of Bishop Ave and 75th. Wear something tight; you pull it off well.

  I didn’t know whether to smile or frown.

  Chapter 5

  “The reservation is under Correy, for two,” Derek said to the hostess. His eyes seemed to add, “or maybe for three, if you’d care to join.” I tried to convince myself that it was just my imagination. Maybe that was just the way his eyes always looked – deep and inviting.

  “Ah yes, there you are!” The hostess drew her finger away from the reservation list, smiling back at him almost too cheerily. “Right this way, sir.”

  Derek took me by the hand and we followed her to a quaint table in a far section of the dining hall. His other hand rested on the small of my back, gently guiding me forward.

  The place was sleek and clean with white tables and black seats and shimmering lights dangling from above. The open kitchen could be seen from across the room, but the steady stream of customer chatter muffled any sound from it. The restaurant was packed, but somehow not that noisy.

  “This doesn’t seem to be the type of place you could get a reservation at with only a day’s notice,” I remarked, once the hostess left us to peruse the menu.

  “I have my ways,” Derek said. “What do you want to drink? Wine?”

  He ordered a bottle of red wine I hadn’t heard of before, and we selected an appetizer of calamari and entrees.

  Derek raised his glass of wine. “To meeting new people and to the beautiful woman before me who has blessed me with this date,” he said.

  I laughed, a smile blossoming across my face. “I can toast to that,” I said, tapping my glass against his.

  We drank and covered the typical first date material – jobs, primary hobbies, cats or dogs. He joked and I laughed. I tried to joke, he looked at me with an arched brow, then found amusement in that. I still couldn’t shake the feeling that it was all just a part of his game, but I was also now starting to care lesser and lesser about it. He was fun and he kept me on my toes, which I somehow found charming and endearing instead of annoying and discomforting.

  He asked about how I came from a small town to a massive city, and if I had family here. I filtered the story to something digestible; saving up while working at a rundown diner, eventually moving to study interior design at college, and finally nabbing an internship at a firm before breaking out on my own.

  “And you?” I asked, between bites of roasted lamb. “Have you always lived here?” The lamb was succulent, topped with a generous drizzle of a wine reduction. But as I ate it, a part of my mind kept reminding myself to save room for the baklava and specialty Greek yogurt with rose-flavored honey.

  “No,” Derek said, shaking his head. “I’m from south Detroit.”

  “Did you move up here with your family?”

  He lowered the fork he had raised to his mouth and took a sip of his wine. He looked at me quizzically, like he was sizing me up for real for the first time, deciding which answer to give me – the one that was as close to the truth as he could get, or the answer he reserved for every other time. I was stunned for a moment. I didn’t know Derek had obvious pain points, and I was surprised to see a clear version of Derek who wasn’t trying to decide which answer would get my panties off. It looked like he was genuinely wondering if I was someone he felt okay opening up to.

  “No,” he said, once he put his wine glass down. “My parents got divorced when I was in middle school. It was messy, so I lived with my aunt until I was old enough to enlist and go elsewhere.”

  “Oh, I see.” I bit the edge of my lip and watched him focus on his plate, obviously not wanting to see my reaction.

  “Yeah, I don’t keep contact with them. I have nothing to say to them.”

  “Are you also an only child?”

  He nodded. “It was probably best that they didn’t have any other ch
ildren. I was just lucky I had my aunt... and the army.”

  I sat silently for a moment, not knowing if he wanted me to ask him a question about his life with his aunt, or if he would be happier just having the conversation change to something else. However, he continued on even before I got to ask.

  “My mother was quite young as compared to my aunt. In reality, I’m not even sure if she actually was my aunt or just an old friend of the family who took me in because there was no one else out there who would. She had pictures of my mom when she was young and told me enough stories about her to help me build a nice image of her.

  “It sounds like you know what it’s like to deal with hardships,” I said, not wanting to sound condescending but about 90% sure I wasn’t succeeding. “So you joined the army.”

  “First chance I got. It was something I had decided to do a full year before I was eligible. Like I said, my aunt was older and it sure wasn’t easy on her to raise a kid that wasn’t hers. The army was the easiest way to take responsibility and not be a burden on my aunt. She was angry at me, but I knew I needed to give her a break from the first chance I got.”

  “You don’t like owing people then?”

  Even with his eyes lowered to his plate as he spoke, I could see the distant look in them conveying the thoughts he left unspoken. And with it came the slow beginning of an awkward silence. I didn’t know what else to say. Would changing the subject to dessert be too abrupt? I didn’t want him to think I didn’t care about his past, but I also didn’t want to make him feel uncomfortable. I felt like an idiotic teenager and realized that this was just what Derek did to me. No matter how hard I tried, I was always surprised and unsure of how I was supposed to feel or act around him. It was something I had never experienced before, but the fact was that with Derek it felt good, exciting and exhilarating. I was given a small peek into the events that really went into making this man in front of me. I felt honored that he let me in like that, and I also knew that it was the end of the last thread of resistance I had against sleeping with Derek. It felt great to just let go and give in to my attraction to him.