Fearless (Crescent Cove: Viper Force Book 1)

by Marlie May

  “I mostly work on the base doing public works, construction. Actually, I specialize in high voltage.”

  “Sounds dangerous.” The words alone spiked my tension, because they suggested he was putting his life at risk. Not that the Middle East didn’t offer danger all on its own. Eli knew that as well as anyone.

  “Any job in the military is dangerous. You’ve got to watch your back all the time.” He stabbed a stick into the coals, and they glowed an angry red. “I do my best to exercise caution.”

  “Stateside, high voltage must mean running poles and those thick lines. What sort of high voltage would you do in…say…the Middle East?” Why was I pressing this? Knowing the risk he’d be in once he returned to his duties should’ve made me hush up. I needed to tie my worry for him up in knots so it wouldn’t bite me. What if he got hurt like Eli, only worse?

  “Where the Marines go, the Seabees follow.”

  “I thought the Seabees were Navy.”

  He tilted his head and peered up at me from where he rested on his forearms. The fire made his dark hair gleam like a raven’s. “We mostly work with the Marines. They go in, clean out a site, and we follow to build. Housing, medical facilities, infrastructure that’s been damaged or destroyed. Whatever needs to be done to support the mission, we do.”

  Can do.

  “With a gun,” I said.

  He directed his attention to the coals. “Always with a gun.”

  I tipped the dregs of my beer onto the grass and rose to dispose of the empty. That same fear that had haunted me after my kidnapping filled me now, except it had found a new purpose. Worry about Cooper. I opened the cooler and dug out two icy beer bottles and returned to my chair, handing one over to him. “High voltage means you’re up on a ladder, or in one of those big buckets, working on a pole, right?”

  With a sigh, he tossed the stick onto the flames. He set our new beers on the ground, took my hand, and squeezed it. “Unfortunately, yes.”

  “I don’t like it.” It would be wrong of me not to name it. He must know I cared. No, I’d shown him I cared. “They’ve sent you overseas a lot. You’ve done, what, three, four tours?”

  “Five. I volunteered for my last few deployments.”

  “Volunteered? Why?”

  “I guess…” Releasing my hand, he ran his fingers across his hair which was too short to thread through. “They ask for volunteers. I’m single. Many of my friends have families. Why put them in the line of danger when it can be me instead?”

  “Because then you’re in the line of danger.”

  He chipped a nod, and his voice deepened. “I’m okay with that.”

  I wasn’t. I wanted to shout out the words, declare it to the universe. Yet Cooper and I weren’t committed. Hell, I wasn’t even sure we were a couple. Which meant I had no say in how he lived his life. Staring into the flames, I tried not to think about him leaving for his next deployment, taking chances as if his life meant nothing. Because his life meant everything to me.

  “Tell me about your favorite photograph,” he said.

  A subject change was the last thing I was interested in right now. I wanted to hash this out, make him grant me promises I had no right to demand. Dwelling on something I couldn’t change wasn’t doing me any favors, however. I cleared my throat. “I love all my photographs.”

  His lips curled up on one side, and his voice lightened. “Let me see if I can guess your favorite.”

  This might be interesting.

  “I know.” Cooper tapped his chin. “The one with the Japanese man seeing his wife for the first time.”

  “He knew her in advance.”

  “I meant how everything’s brand new once you marry.”

  My smile conceded his point was valid and sweet. “You weren’t far off. While the man met her through a traditionally arranged marriage called omiai, they dated before agreeing to marry.”

  Inside, I was free to judge other cultures. The outside me—the person I presented to the world—had to respect the beliefs of the country I visited. As much as I yearned to advocate for change, and I had in my own small way whenever I spoke to people while traveling, I was only passing through their land. If they invited me into their lives, I had to respect the way they chose to live them.

  “That’s not my favorite photo,” I said.

  “You’re right. Not that one.” He held up a finger. “I know. The old woman staring out the window across the fields rolling into the distance.”

  That one was special to me. “Not many people know the full story behind those lines on her face. Her reddened eyes.” The woman had sat stiffly, her spine not quite touching the high-back chair.

  “Her eyes sought something.” He shook his head. “I couldn’t tell what.”

  “Only her wrinkled hands, clasped tightly on her lap, betrayed her.” My lungs collapsed with a long breath. “She’d recently lost her husband of seventy years. Dementia made her forgetful. In a quivering voice, she told me to watch with her. That he’d be home soon. That she’d have to get supper on the table when he arrived.”

  “I think I’m close, but that’s not the picture, either.”

  Joy made my cheeks ache. While my family often told me how proud they were of my work, few people had taken the time to understand my photos like Cooper obviously had. The fact that he not only thought about the stories behind the pictures but also remembered the images to this day touched me. “You’re close, though.”

  His hand tightened around mine. “Then it must be the one with the girl and her falcon.”

  Bingo. “How did you know?”

  “That look…her arm raised. Her face filled with wonder. What’s the story behind that picture?”

  “Mongolia. I lived with the girl’s family in their village high in the mountains for over a month. So many wonderful images to capture. She raised the bird under her father’s guidance. Once it was grown, she begged him to let her release it. I took the picture as she started to loosen the jesses.”

  “Yes,” he breathed. “I loved that one the moment I saw it.”

  I had to wonder. Had he seen a bit of himself in the bird?

  “Did she do it? Let it go?”

  “She did. It soared high into the sky and circled over us. Its keening cry was the only sound outside our harsh breathing.”

  “No longer tethered.”

  “That’s right.” Except in its heart. “It only flew a few minutes before returning to land on her arm again.”

  Cooper’s eyes rested on mine, his smoky blue from wherever his thoughts took him. “Maybe the bird preferred captivity over living without her.”

  “And while it remained with her, it always soared free.”

  As if to punctuate that statement, the first fireworks shot toward the heavens, making my body jolt. A splash of blue and red burst in a circle, followed by a sharp boom. Loud enough to jar my teeth.

  Cooper jumped, as well. Groaning, he rubbed the back of his neck. “Sorry. I…sometimes things startle me.”

  “I understand.” I rubbed his thigh. Boy, did I get it. It felt like the world startled me all the damn time.

  He pointed. “Look at that one.”

  I let the bright colors chase away my heavy mood. We toasted each other with our beers. Like an eight-year-old, I clapped and gushed over the better displays. Cooper laughed along with me, but I had a feeling, by the weight of his gaze, that he watched me more than the fireworks. Taking his hand, I clasped it tightly, not releasing my grip until nothing except the echo of the last bang lingered in the air.

  “What a perfect way to end the night,” he said.

  “Almost.”

  He lifted one eyebrow, and his smile lured me closer.

  It was a smile worthy of a kiss, which I delivered. However, while anticipation coursed through me, I wasn’t quite ready for bed yet. My belly was snarling, and Oreos would make the evening complete. Fetching a package, I set it on my lap and peeled back the top to expose the long
rows of black and white yumminess inside.

  Cooper grabbed one and shoved the entire thing into his mouth.

  I gasped and sputtered. “How could you?”

  “What?” he mumbled around the cookie.

  I shook my head. “You’re not eating it right.”

  He smirked and brushed crumbs off his chest. “There’s a right way to eat Oreos?”

  “Let me show you.” Pulling two cookies from the packaged, I set one on the arm of my chair. “Like this.” With a sharp twist, I separated the sides, leaving the frosting behind on one. “There’s an art to this. If it isn’t done right, part of the frosting sticks to the blank side. It needs to be fast, painless, and clean.”

  Eyes gleaming with humor, Cooper mimicked my action. “And?”

  “You do it with the other one, too.”

  He chuckled and peeled another cookie.

  “Then, you have to eat the plain side.” Dry, but it was a necessary part of the routine. The dregs stuck in my throat, and I washed them down with my beer.

  Cooper bit into the cookie. He grimaced and tossed it into the fire where it smoldered.

  “Hey.” I sat forward, squinting into the flames. Poor cookie, abandoned so thoughtlessly. “You can’t do that.”

  “Why not?”

  “If you want your reward, you’ve got to pay the price.”

  His deep, throaty voice trilled through me. “Name the price, sweetheart. I’m all about rewards.”

  Actually, so was I. I couldn’t stop laughing. Cooper brought out every speck of happiness inside me. Cookies. I needed to focus on cookies. “I meant you need to do it in exactly the right way or it’s not as much fun.”

  “Lead on. I’m game.”

  “You have to pay your Oreo dues.” I crunched through the second dry half and sighed with bliss when I could combine the white frosted sides. My long-overdue reward was at hand.

  Cooper snatched my cookie sandwich away from me and stuffed it into his mouth. “Mmm.” He chuckled as he took in my rising indignation. After swallowing, his grin filled his face, covering me like a soft, warm blanket. “I think you’re on to something here.”

  “You cheated.” I poked his chest. “Unless you eat the sides without frosting, you can’t have the other ones.”

  “Why not?” He snatched two cookies from the package, unscrewed them, and tossed the plain sides into the fire. He consumed the second sandwich in seconds.

  “Because…that’s not how it’s done.”

  He lifted one eyebrow. “I think there are many ways to see things done.”

  Damn. I loved innuendo.

  18

  Cooper

  There was nothing I found more satisfying than teasing Ginny. Except tasting her lips, sweet from the cookies. Or feeling her hands, soft on my skin. Best of all, when she pressed her body against mine.

  Getting her alone again was my top priority. But as much as I wanted her, I wouldn’t make assumptions about the rest of tonight. She wanted to prove something this weekend, so she might want to sleep alone. Everyone needed their space. I’d respect that.

  I glanced at my watch while she put away the half-finished package of cookies. “It’s after eleven.”

  Her lips lifted, and her eyes darted to Eli’s tent. “I’ll get my toothbrush.”

  We stalled together beside the picnic table after doing our teeth.

  “I think there’s room on your mattress for two, don’t you?” The laughter in her voice told me she knew what I’d been thinking but that she had the situation under control.

  My heart, too, most likely.

  She held out her hand.

  I took it and ducked inside my tent right behind her.

  * * *

  Some freaking bird was determined to mess with my sleep. Of course, it wasn’t the bird’s fault I hadn’t closed my eyes until dawn. The real reason I was exhausted lay half on top of me, slumbering in my arms. Ginny.

  What was I going to do about this? About her?

  She shifted the question aside when she raised her head and gazed at me, her brown eyes smoldering. And she drove all thoughts of anything but her from my head when she climbed up my body and placed her lips on mine.

  I didn’t know what I’d do without her in a week. In a month. Or in a year.

  Right now, I could only love her.

  Later, we got up, showered, and cooked breakfast. I made my coffee last beyond cold because finishing meant it was time to pack our things and head into town. Reality was poised to kick me in the gut all over again.

  Eli showed up as we were trying to force my tent pieces into the tiny bag they’d come in. Damned bags must shrink the second you emptied them. The haggard lines on my friend’s face told me how tired he must be. I moved around the cold fire pit and put a hand on his shoulder. “You okay?”

  Eyes older than they ought to be in a thirty-year-old stared back at me. Red-rimmed, cloudy. “Will be, once I get some sleep.”

  “Let’s get the place cleaned up fast and then you can go home and go to bed.”

  Ginny took charge; exactly what we needed. “Eli, you take the empty bottles and trash to the bins behind the campground office.” Her concerned gaze fell on me. “You can help me take down Eli’s tent.”

  “I’m really worried about him,” Ginny said while we continued to pack things up. “He can’t keep going at this pace.”

  “You’re right. Glad it’s only a short ride home.”

  Once Eli returned, we finished packing and hauled everything to the parking lot and loaded the back of Eli’s Jeep.

  I filled him in on all that had happened while he was gone.

  “You think any of this adds up to more than coincidence?” he asked with a frown.

  “Hard to say.” I was going to make sure nothing coincidental happened to Ginny while I was around.

  The heavy look he fed me showed he’d caught my concern and magnified it tenfold. “You can bet I’ll keep an eye on her.”

  Since reality made it clear I’d have no say in what happened to Ginny beyond the next few days, it was the best I could hope for. If only the military didn’t own me.

  “You want my tent?” I asked Eli, resting my hand on the back of the Jeep. I swung the tailgate up and secured the latch with a bang. “I won’t need it again.”

  Ginny dragged her eyes away from mine. My belly spasmed when I realized the message I’d unintentionally delivered.

  Leaving soon. Won’t be back.

  The tightness in her spine only rivaled that of her lips. It ripped me apart to think I’d hurt her already. But what could I do? I didn’t have a future to offer.

  “I’ll put it inside the garage with everything else,” Eli said, oblivious to the undercurrent of tension between Ginny and me.

  “Later this week, I’m going to stop by and see Flint. He’s out at the base, doing his two weeks active. He mentioned he wanted to talk to you about a job, so you might want to go with me.”

  Eli froze. “Flint Crawford’s around?”

  “Remember? He left the Seabees eight months ago. Stayed in the Reserves, but he started his own business, Viper Force.”

  Eli stared toward town as if he was already halfway there. “What about Mia?”

  Ah. So, there was something between Eli and Flint’s younger sister.

  “Flint said she moved to Crescent Cove. Took a job locally.”

  “Really?” Eli said eagerly. “I…I’ll have to look her up.” His face tightened. “You mentioned Flint might have a job for me? What kind of business we talking about?”

  “Recreational drones.” Anything but. If I knew Flint, he was working with highly-classified devices. But Ginny hadn’t missed Eli’s interest in Mia, and she was hanging on our every word.

  Eli frowned. “Ah. Of course. I’m definitely interested in talking to Flint, but I won’t fit him in this week. Might find time before the month’s through.”

  I had a feeling he might find time in the next week t
o look up Mia, however.

  After slapping my shoulder and saying goodbye, Eli strode around to the driver’s side, leaving me and Ginny alone for one final minute.

  Insecurity made me antsy, and I swiped my palms down my face. It wouldn’t be easy to let us go, but what could I truly offer her?

  Ginny paused and gave me a weak smile. “You want to come to my place for dinner tonight?”

  Ending this immediately would make it simpler, before I was all in. But I couldn’t make myself say the words. Not yet. Maybe not ever. “How about tomorrow instead? I need to put some solid time in at my dad’s place or I won’t get it done before I have to leave.”

  Her expression tightened but she nodded. “Tomorrow, then.”

  Leaning forward, I kissed her. I drank in the way she clutched my shoulders. “Five okay?”

  “Sounds great.” She opened the passenger door and climbed inside. With her head sticking out the open window, she waved. The tires crunched as the Jeep moved across the gravel lot, heading for the main road.

  Ginny blew me a kiss.

  Reaching up, I caught it. I pressed my fist against my chest and released her kiss. Warmth spread through my body.

  Damn.

  I already was all in.

  19

  Ginny

  I was grateful Eli chose silence on the way into town. Thinking had captured my mind.

  Putting aside Cooper’s comment about leaving soon hadn’t been easy, but what could I do? He’d made it clear we were a short-term thing. He’d made no promises. Even though I’d told myself I’d accept what he could give and not pressure him for anything more, I’d gotten caught up in my feelings. Fed them, even.

  Eli brought the Jeep to a stop in my driveway and shut off the engine. We both stared toward the shingle-sided gambrel building I’d bought down the road from my brother’s place. The original owner had used the first floor as a garage, living in the small apartment upstairs. Since it was a one-bedroom and he and his wife had a baby on the way, he’d put the property on the market. I converted the first floor into my photography studio, complete with a dark room and office. Crescent Cove hadn’t seen a working photographer since black-and-white fame, and my business had grown quickly.