Uniform Desires (Make Mine Military Romance)

by Sharon Hamilton

  "Yours?" Delaney asked through a tight throat.

  He shook his head. "No, Reaper’s." Then he looked up and stared across at her, the anguish in his eyes more than Delaney could bear.

  She went and wrapped her arms around him. Her tears fell faster, soaking into the dried blood on his tattered uniform.

  "It should have been me," he said, his voice harsh. He didn’t raise his arms to wrap around her.

  "You can’t second guess what happened." Delaney swallowed hard on the lump in her throat. "It won’t change the outcome."

  "Reaper was one of the best." His body stayed stiff, rock hard and unrelenting.

  "And he still is." Delaney leaned back, gripping Tuck’s arms and shaking him. "He’s not gone yet."

  "You saw him." He glared at her, his lips peeling back in a snarl. "How can anyone live through that?"

  With the image of Cory’s ravaged arm seared into her mind forever, Delaney couldn’t let it rule her life and thoughts. She straightened, pushing back her shoulders. Cory was her friend as well as Tuck’s. He was too young to die. "We have lots of beer and pizza ahead of us. I can’t drink and eat it all on my own." She laughed, the sound choked off by an escaping sob. "He’ll make it."

  Tuck looked to the sky and sighed. "God, I hope so."

  "And when he does, he’ll need all the support we can give him."

  His gaze returned to her. "You promised to marry him."

  "He needed to hear that." She chewed on her lower lip. "I couldn’t say no."

  "You do realize, you can’t take back that promise."

  She nodded. "I know." Cory’s injuries were so severe, any emotional setback could kill him. For better or worse, she’d promised to marry Cory. And a promise was a promise. Even if she didn’t love him that way, maybe she could learn to.

  A medic stepped up to Tuck and pointed at his leg. "Sir, you’re bleeding."

  Delaney stared down at Tuck’s pant leg, for the first time noticing the blood stain running from mid-calf to his ankle. "Damn, Tuck. You’ve been injured."

  He shrugged. "Just a flesh wound."

  "If you’ll come with me, sir, I’ll check it out." The medic hooked Tuck’s arm. "You might need to see a surgeon."

  Tuck shook off the hand, standing tall. "I’m fine."

  "If it’s all the same to you, sir, I’m just doing my job." The medic wasn’t taking no for an answer.

  "Go with the medic," Delaney urged. "The Navy needs you."

  He paused, his gaze capturing hers. "And you don’t?" he asked softly.

  Her lips twisted in a wry grin. "I seem to recall the situation was the other way around."

  Tuck nodded. "Doesn’t matter anymore. Reaper needs you more."

  Though she didn’t want to, Delaney agreed. Still, it would have been great if Tuck owned up to loving her. Then again, an admission like that would only make their lives harder when she married Cory, knowing Tuck had changed his mind and wanted a long-term relationship with her. No, she was better off this way. There never was anything permanent between her and Tuck, which left her open to marrying a man she loved like a brother. If he lived to their wedding day.

  "Captain O’Connell." Delaney’s CO, Lt. Colonel Cooley, appeared beside her and gripped her arm. "Glad to see you’re okay."

  She stared up at him, fighting the tears. Members of the 160th Night Stalkers were the elite fighting force. They didn’t cry.

  Her commander shook his head and pulled her into a hug. "It’s okay. Every pilot is allowed to express their grief. You wouldn’t be human if you didn’t."

  She let a few tears trickle down her cheeks, then pushed back from the lieutenant colonel, wiping at the tears. "I had breakfast with Captain Kuntz this morning. He’s got a baby on the way. His daughter starts kindergarten this year." She shook her head and swiped at more tears. "Sergeant Ryerson was one class short of his online degree, and Pickard was supposed to be best man in his sister’s wedding next year."

  "They’ll be missed." The CO’s jaw tightened and he stood for a few moments, gathering himself before he went on. "A retrieval team is on its way to recover them and bring them home."

  More tears welled in Delaney’s eyes as she pictured the funerals, the flag-draped coffins, and the wives and children of those lost. "Sir, my fiancé was the man severely injured in the explosion. I request permission to accompany him back to the States." She bit down on her bottom lip to keep it from shaking before adding, "If he lives."

  "I’ll see what I can do." He tipped his head toward the hospital. "Now, go. When he regains consciousness, he’ll want to see a familiar face."

  "Thank you, sir." Delaney hurried toward the hospital, pushing aside thoughts of the men who’d died, her hastily made decision to accept Cory’s proposal, and the look on Tuck’s face of resigned acceptance. Everything about loving a SEAL reminded her of why she shouldn’t. Men who volunteered for such dangerous missions set themselves up for death or dismemberment. They were fearless adrenaline junkies. Women who married them waited in constant fear of getting that call, or of the chaplain stopping by with word of their soldier or SEAL’s demise. She’d been through it once, when Max died on a mission.

  If Cory lost his arm, he would never be deployed as a SEAL again. Most likely, he’d be medically retired or given a desk job. He’d be safe from going back in the line of fire. He would be the ideal husband for Delaney. She could love him without worrying about him getting killed. The idea didn’t make her feel any better. Her heart couldn’t switch gears so quickly, not when she still had feelings for Tuck, feelings that were more potent than the love of a brother.

  Damn it. All the time she’d been holding back and telling Tuck they couldn’t be together, she’d done exactly what she’d sworn she never would do. She’d fallen in love with a SEAL.

  Again. Her realization didn’t matter. What happened now wasn’t about her or Tuck, or why they couldn’t be together. Her focus was all about getting Cory through the night. Beyond that, she didn’t dare think or plan.

  Tuck refused to see the medic, heading straight for Commander Backus. The operation had gone south and he suspected the reason was more than coincidence. They’d been set up. The trip wire and the writing on the wall said it all. If Reaper hadn’t stumbled on it when he did, both teams might have been caught in the explosion. As it was, Reaper was the main casualty in the operation. The damage could have been much worse. Not that Reaper’s life and health were any less important, but his sacrifice had saved the lives of the other men on the team. Cory was, unwittingly, a hero.

  "You look like shit." Commander Backus greeted him with a handshake. "Glad you all made it back alive. I understand the op wasn’t good."

  "We need to check out the Afghani informant. I suspect he was part of this whole scam."

  The commander’s jaw tightened. "Can’t."

  "Can’t? Why?"

  "He’s missing."

  "So it was a set up."

  "The man we captured last night hung himself right after the teams left in the helicopter."

  "Fuck. Why didn’t we get recalled?"

  "We didn’t discover our dead captive until after the shit hit the fan. By then, it was too late." Backus’s glance raked over Tuck. "I want you to report to the hospital."

  "I’m fine."

  "That’s an order."

  "Sir, all I need is a shower. Reaper—"

  "Is going to pull through."

  Tuck clenched his jaw. "Sir, his arm."

  "I heard." The commander’s lips pressed together. "The docs will do their best to save it."

  Tuck shook his head, knowing there wasn’t anything anyone could do to save what was left of Reaper’s arm. "Sir, that should have been me."

  "What?" Backus stepped back, drawing himself up to his full height of six feet four inches, an inch taller than Tuck and every bit as intimidating a man as any SEAL could wish to be. "Did you tell him to trip over that wire?"

  "No, sir, but—"

/>   "We didn’t sign on to be SEALs to wallow in self-pity or self-blame. Reaper won’t, I guarantee it. And I don’t expect you to, either."

  Tuck opened his mouth to argue his point, but one look at his commander’s face and he snapped his jaw shut. Backus was right. They didn’t have room for second-guessing. What was done was done. No amount of regret would bring back Reaper’s arm.

  "Reaper is a SEAL. Whatever he has to deal with, he’ll make it. We only train the best of the best." Backus led Tuck to the door and opened it. "I’ll walk with you."

  "Sir, I can make it on my own."

  "And I don’t give a rat’s ass if you can or not. I’m checking on Reaper." Backus jerked his head. "Now, move."

  Commander Backus knew exactly what to say to snap Tuck out of his funk. He walked tall, despite the pain in his ankle, just now flaring up as the adrenaline subsided. And the stinging bite he’d felt in the field outside that village probably was a bullet lodged in his leg. No matter the pain, he refused to show any sign of it. His injuries were minor. He’d keep all his limbs and live to fight another day.

  The way he saw it, Reaper’s days as a Navy SEAL were over. Tuck couldn’t imagine what his life would be like if he couldn’t be a SEAL. They were the family he’d never had. His brothers. He was closer to these men than he was to his father and mother, or his half-brothers from his mother’s second and third marriages.

  SEAL Team 10 was everything to him. Until Delaney had come along, he couldn’t picture himself with anyone he loved more.

  The woman in his thoughts waited outside the hospital tent, pacing.

  Backus and Tuck stopped in front of her.

  "Captain O’Connell." The navy commander held out a hand and Delaney took it. "I’m sorry to hear about the loss of Captain Kuntz, Lieutenant Metzger, Sergeants Ketchum and DeSpain. The recovery team is on its way back with their remains."

  "Thank you, Sir." She let go of his hand and rubbed her arms as if she were cold. "At least, the families will have some closure."

  "Any news on Reaper?" Tuck asked, looking for his answer in her expression.

  Delaney glanced at the commander, refusing to meet Tucks’ gaze. "A nurse came out a few minutes ago. She expects them to be with him for at least an hour. As soon as they stabilize him, they’re sending him back to Landstuhl."

  "Some of the best surgeons in the world are stationed there," Commander Backus said. "He’ll be in good hands."

  Nodding, Delaney continued. "They’ve got a critical care air transport team and a C-17 on standby, waiting for him in Bagram."

  The news hit Tuck with a complex sense of relief and sadness. He and Reaper had been through BUD/s training together. From the moment they’d graduated training, they’d been assigned to Team 10 and hadn’t been separated since. The sense of loss hit him hard, weakening his knees. If he’d been alone, he might have given in and dropped. With his commander and Delaney standing close by, he couldn’t. He was a SEAL. SEALs didn’t show weakness.

  He sent a silent prayer to the heavens. God, help Reaper and while you’re at it, help me be strong for him. With Delaney at his side, the man would be okay.

  Tuck didn’t want to think whether or not he’d be okay. He couldn’t picture Delaney with Reaper. In the back of the Black Hawk helicopter on the way to their mission, he’d convinced himself he couldn’t live without her.

  Now he’d have to.

  Chapter 7

  Cory woke once after the doctors amputated the shattered arm, cleaned his wounds, and packed them with pressure bandages.

  Delaney was there when his eyes blinked open three hours later.

  "O’Connell?"

  "Yeah, Cory. I’m here." She leaned over his bed and smiled downward. The nurses had done a good job bandaging his face. Thankfully, none of the shrapnel had hit his eyes, but he’d have scars on his forehead, nose, cheeks, and chin. They’d just give him more character.

  "My arm hurts like hell." He shifted his shoulder and lifted his head to get a look at it.

  Delaney touched his chest. "Lie back. I’ll talk to the nurse about upping the pain meds." She turned to flag down a nurse.

  Cory snagged her arm with his left hand. "Why can’t I move my arm?"

  Her heart broke as she struggled to come up with the words to tell him he’d never move that arm again.

  "What’s wrong? Why the sad face? Am I paralyzed?" He lifted the other arm, I.V. tubes and all. "Don’t lie to me. Give it to me straight."

  She sucked in a deep breath. "The explosion destroyed your right arm. The doctors couldn’t save it. They had to..." She couldn’t say the word amputate. "They had to remove it."

  Cory’s brows drew together for a moment, then he lay back, a smile curving his lips. "Is that all? And here I thought the injury was serious." He lay still for a few seconds.

  Delaney thought he’d slipped into unconsciousness again until he spoke.

  "How’s Tuck?"

  "He’s okay. Took a bullet to the leg. I believe the medics had to sit on him to make him stay still long enough to pull it out."

  Cory chuckled once, his brows twisting. "Remind me not to laugh. Hurts. And the others?"

  "All the SEALs made it out."

  His eyes opened. "Who didn’t?"

  "The other helicopter crew."

  "Damn."

  "The main thing is for you to get better. They’re moving you soon. You get a first-class plane ride to Landstuhl then back to the States."

  "Always wanted to go to Germany," he said, his voice fading.

  "Sorry, you won’t get to tour this time. Unless you count the inside of the hospital."

  "Maybe for our honeymoon."

  "About that..." Delaney started, not sure of what she wanted to say. The truth would be best. She turned and paced the length of his bed. "When I agreed to marry you, I wasn’t thinking straight. I was worried about you and said what I thought you wanted to hear. The thing is, I love you, but like a brother. So you see, you don’t want to marry me. I’m not the right girl for you. You deserve someone who will love you like a husband." Delaney spun to face Cory to gauge his reaction.

  He lay as still as death, his breathing shallow, his skin pale from the loss of so much blood. As far as Delaney knew, he hadn’t heard a word of her confession.

  And as far as she was concerned, he never should. Losing an arm would be hard enough to recover from. Losing an arm and a fiancé at the same time was setting him up to fail. And failure meant death.

  Her heart aching, Delaney sat beside Cory, loving him like a brother while she longed for Tuck’s arms to be around her, his voice reassuring her everything would be all right.

  Captain Swinson stopped beside her. "They’re getting ready to move him. If you’re going with him, you might want to pack a bag."

  Delaney stood and glanced down at Cory.

  "Don’t worry, I’ll stay with him until you get back."

  "Thanks." Delaney hugged the other woman and hurried out of the hospital, breathing in the fresh desert air. The sun was just beginning to rise, bathing the camp in a golden haze.

  Tired, disheartened, and worried, she hurried to her tent, packed her rucksack with the essentials and a change of uniform, and returned to the hospital. All the way there and back, she glanced around, hoping to catch a glimpse of Tuck.

  When she arrived back at the hospital, they had Cory loaded onto the big wheeled gurney, a medic carrying the IV still attached to his arm. They loaded him into the back of an ambulance and made room for Delaney. She slipped onto a bench next to the medic who hung the IV over the collapsible gurney.

  The ride to the helicopter pad passed quickly. Too quickly. Soon, they’d be on their way to Bagram and from there to Landstuhl. She might never see Tuck again, and she hadn’t had the opportunity to say goodbye.

  At the helicopter pad, the transfer went without a hitch and the pilot shook hands with Delaney. "Heard what happened. Sorry about the crew."

  "Me, too."
/>   "I’ll try to make the ride as painless as possible."

  "Thanks." Delaney climbed on board and behind the pilot, the experience of riding in a helicopter so much different than flying it.

  "Wait!" A shout sounded over the sound of the rotor blades building up speed and one of the medics closed the sliding door.

  "Wait!" Across the tarmac, Tuck ran, wearing gym shorts, T-shirt, and tennis shoes, his thick, muscular legs covered in swaths of orange Betadine and patches of stitches. One of the ground crew clotheslined him, bringing him to a halt before he could get close enough to the blades now in motion.

  Delaney started to unhook her harness, but the helicopter lifted off, the pilot’s focus already on the task ahead, unaware of the man waving frantically. Get the patient to Bagram safely and swiftly. The sooner he got out of the theater, the sooner he’d get the specialized help he’d need to survive.

  Helpless to stop the chopper from rising, knowing slowing the trip would only put Cory in more danger, Delaney watched through the scuffed window as Tuck became a tiny dot in the middle of the airfield. Her eyes burned with unshed tears.

  Delaney’s life was now on a different course. Cory would be her focus until he was well enough to manage on his own.

  Chapter 8

  One month later...

  "Cory, you have to do it. I can’t go back until I know you’ll be okay." Delaney stood beside Cory in the large room dedicated to rehabilitation of wounded soldiers.

  His face burned red, sweat popping out as he tried to pull the long rubber strap toward him using what was left of his right arm. When it was only halfway, he let go and growled. "Fuck this!"

  A pretty blond physical therapist stepped up to him. "Cory, the only way you’ll get better is to fight past the pain, and use those muscles that haven’t been used in a month. Now do it." Her voice was soft but firm, her lips set in a thin line. Petite and delicate-looking she might be, but she wasn’t taking anything less than Cory’s best.

  "You’re new here, aren’t you?" Delaney asked.