Uniform Desires (Make Mine Military Romance)

by Sharon Hamilton

  Grafton Parks was a gorgeous distraction, but when he smiled he became downright deadly to her peace of mind. His variegated hazel blue eyes lightened and his hard lipped mouth softened. Their eyes connected and a shiver shuddered down her spine. She forced herself to turn away, feeling light headed. The man was dangerous to her psyche. She’d already made one mistake because of him. She would not make another.

  Kendall gathered her folder and headed to her office. She sat down at the computer and pressed the power key.

  “Your father said not to work too long.”

  She flicked him a glance but continued what she had started. “Yes, and he also said my position is all but secured. I’ll work, thank you for your concern.”

  “Ms. Herrington,” he drawled, “I think you should reevaluate your decision. You were sick less than an hour ago.”

  Kendall blinked, but waved a hand, determined not to be swayed. “I’m fine. It must have just been something from lunch that didn’t agree with me.”

  She felt him move closer but refused to look up at him.

  “You didn’t eat anything for lunch. You know that.”

  She sighed, exasperated. “Then it must be a bug or something. It’s none of your concern.”

  He moved to the front of her desk and leaned close, forcing her to look at him.

  “You’re pregnant.”

  Her hands stuttered on the keys and her heart stopped. No. It couldn’t be. Her eyes latched onto his, straight in front of her. He seemed deadly serious. “I’m not pregnant!”

  He lifted one black brow, and crossed his arms over his massive chest. Then he stared at her, waiting.

  Kendall pulled her organizer across the desk and leafed through, looking for the little marks she used to indicate her period. Then she counted.

  And finally swayed in her chair. He could be right.

  Parks moved without sound, swinging her chair around and pressing her head down to her knees. “Now, take it easy. You’re fine. Breathe. Breathe, Kendall.”

  His rough voice was a balm to her emotions and his hand on her back so soothing. Too soothing. But she couldn’t make herself pull away.

  Frantic thoughts ricocheted through her mind. A baby? Seriously? How the hell was she supposed to take care of a baby right now? Her life was devoted to the company. She didn’t have time to ski down the mountain, let alone take care of a child.

  Wait. Maybe she wasn’t pregnant. She lifted her head. “There’s a chance I’m not. I mean, it was just the one time and we took care of stuff. It’s not possible for me to be pregnant.”

  She hated the way he lifted that black brow at her, as if she were a damn simpleton burying her head in the sand. But he nodded to her once. “We can get you a test. Then we’ll know for sure.”

  Tears pressed at her eyelids. She forced herself to pull away from his comforting touch to face her desk. Everything had blurred in front of her and she doubted she’d be able to type two words together. Emails needed responded to. The secretary’s to-do list needed compiled. She needed to study the prospectus again to be ready for next week.

  Kendall shoved away from the desk and paced across to the floor to ceiling windows. Night had fallen in the ultra-exclusive ski resort town. Christmas lights twinkled, though the holiday had passed weeks ago. They’d stay up all year long, just to perpetuate the dream of the holiday. She pressed her hand to the glass, overwhelmed with the need to be outside. Giving Parks a glance, she grabbed her purse from the cubby in her desk and snatched her coat from the tree. Barely taking the time to lock her door, she sailed down the hallway. Rather than be halted at the elevator, she pushed through the adjacent door and carefully clacked down the stairway in her boots.

  She didn’t even have to look to know that Parks was behind her. The only time he slowed her down was just before she passed through the revolving front door and into the cold of the night. He guided her to a secondary, less-used door and exited ahead of her. Kendall allowed herself to reach out and touch his back. Her fist curled into the fabric of his suit jacket and she gasped, desperate for air, until he gave way and let her through. Staggering to the wall of the building, she leaned against it and dragged the bracingly cold night into her lungs. The blind panic began to ease and her head began to clear.

  “I can’t be pregnant,” she gasped.

  He squeezed her shoulder. “We’ll figure it out.”

  Kendall floated through the night in a haze. She wanted wine, but didn’t know if that would be wise, considering. Parks left without a word and Calvert took over the night shift.

  She debated calling her father, but that would be incredibly unfair. He wanted a grandchild, desperately, and something this momentous, that had her emotions so off-kilter, was bound to slip out. Parks had promised to grab a test for her in the morning so that she didn’t have to go out and hope not to be recognized. It was bad enough he would be going, because the two of them had been linked for weeks now. Paparazzi still considered her a marketable commodity, just like everyone else in the world. Though she’d been working for her father for the past two years, her previous career had been momentous.

  When the former Marine had first started, there’d been pictures of them in every magazine and rag imaginable. They were a striking couple, she had to admit. Calvert didn’t receive the same exposure because he preferred night shift, but there’d been a few pictures of him as well. And while the shorter, stockier built blond with the easy smile was good looking in his own way, her eyes were always drawn to Parks, with his springy black hair and knowing eyes. It was ridiculous how in-tune her body seemed to be with his. Men taller than her were few and far between.

  Needing to do something, she crossed to the freezer, praying that the maid had restocked.

  “Oh, yes.”

  Snatching a spoon from the silverware drawer, she crossed to the overstuffed chair against the far window. Falling into the softness, she tugged the lid off the carton of classic vanilla bean, sighing in pleasure as the first bite melted in her mouth. Perfect.

  Chapter 2

  Kendall had managed to curl her body into a ball in the overstuffed chair. The remains of a pint of vanilla bean sat on the carpet, leaking into the fine nap. He frowned at the way her head was angled over the arm. She’d be sore when she woke up.

  But stunning.

  Every time he walked into a room with her it felt like a punch to the gut. He constantly had to remind himself that he had no business looking at her.

  Reaching out, he shook her shoulder gently. “Kendall.”

  She frowned in her sleep, fine lines puckering her brows. “No,” she murmured.

  Grif shook her more firmly. “I brought you that item that you needed.”

  She tried to shift in the seat, but she was too long of leg to be in any position other than what she currently was. With a groan, she pushed herself vertical.

  Grif wanted to run his fingers into her pale gold curls to straighten them, but he knew she wouldn’t welcome his touch in that way. There were too many other distractions.

  She stilled when she spied the bag in his hand and seemed to fold in on herself. She looked up at him, an odd look on her face. “I thought it was a dream,” she whispered.

  He ached to take her into his arms and hold her, but she didn’t need that right now.

  “I read the directions on one of the boxes, and it says morning urine has the highest concentration of the pregnancy hormone.”

  Kendall cringed in distaste, and he cursed silently to himself. He could have led her into it a little more gently. “Sorry.”

  She sighed and took the plain white pharmacy bag from his hand, unrolling the top. She looked up at him in surprise.

  “Three boxes? Really?”

  Grif jerked his shoulders in a shrug. “None of them are a hundred percent accurate, but I thought if we tried several of them, we could get a consensus.”

  She lifted a brow at him, the sleep disappearing from her eyes. “We?”


  He could only shrug again and try not to flush.

  Kendall flipped each of the boxes over to read the information on the back, then pushed to her feet, one clutched in her hand.

  “If you’ll excuse me for a moment.”

  She walked out of the living room and into the bedroom as if she were going to change her clothes, rather than her life. Potentially. He watched her narrow back disappear through the bedroom door, leaving it open barely a crack.

  Grif paced across the room, strangely nervous. This was an odd situation to be in. The lines between protector and protect-ee often became blurred, but he’d completely obliterated them this time. He’d done something he’d never done before.

  He’d slept with a client.

  Unfortunately, he’d do it again if she let him.

  The thought that she could be carrying his child right now terrified him more than anything else he’d ever done. More than the three tours in Iraq and Afghanistan, more than the private, covert contract work he’d done after he’d been medically discharged.

  The night they’d shared had been short but explosive. Totally unexpected on his part, because Kendall Herrington had done nothing but glare at him ever since he’d taken the job. But half a bottle of wine had loosened her tongue and the desperate hold on her emotions.

  That night, that hour, had rocked his world, and hers he thought as well, but all too quickly that wall had slapped back into place. Kendall declared their tryst an aberration and demanded he never say anything about it. For the most part, he’d accepted that. At the time. The depth of his reaction to her had shaken him. He’d never been in a long term relationship before, but she’d been easy to get along with for one night. It made him crave more.

  He glanced at his watch. She’d been gone for ten minutes. Crossing to the bedroom door, he knocked lightly. “Kendall?”

  There was no response so he eased into the room and across to the bathroom. He knocked on the door.

  Sobs came to him through the wood and he twisted the handle. Kendall sat on the floor beside the commode, face pressed to her drawn-up knees. Grif’s heart ached at the desolation he heard in her voice. She clutched a white stick in her hand. Even from several feet away he could see the plus sign in the display window.

  Kneeling in front of her, he pressed a light kiss to the top of her head.

  She jerked away from him and glared at him with fury. “How could you do this to me?”

  Frowning, he tried to give her the benefit of the doubt. “What do you mean how could I do this to you? If I remember right, you damn near tackled me that night. As I’m sure you are well aware.”

  Fresh tears filled her luminous eyes, and he felt bad for calling her on her shit. She dropped her head back to her knees. “I know,” she moaned.

  He reached out and squeezed her shuddering shoulder. “We’ll take care of this.”

  She looked up at him with hope in her eyes and he wanted to lean down to kiss her.

  Kendall must have known what he was thinking, because she pulled away and wiped her face with her hands. She took a deep, gasping breath and seemed to pull her control back around her like a cloak.

  Grif didn’t like the coolness that settled into her expression. But he understood it was how she protected herself.

  He grabbed a washcloth and doused it with cold water, then squeezed as much water out as he could against the side of the sink. She took the cloth and held it to her face.

  “I’m fine now, hero. You can go.”

  Fury nipped at him. Maybe it was a good thing she didn’t look at him. She’d probably be scared to death if she saw his face.

  Without a word, he left the bathroom.

  “Do you need me to reassign you?”

  Grif gnashed his teeth at Duncan’s legitimate question and paused before he barked out a hasty answer. “No, I just need you to be aware I may not be completely objective now. She practically jumped my bones that night, but I was a willing participant. We both need to take responsibility for our actions.”

  Duncan sighed on the other end of the line. “I wish I could help you out buddy, but you’ve gotten yourself into a pickle. I’m a little surprised that you allowed such a bad lapse in judgment. I should be pissed.”

  Grif looked out at the swirling snow, aware he’d seriously fucked up. He’d jeopardized the safety of a client by sleeping with her and now the repercussions were rippling out. They had a kid on the way, her position at the firm was in danger. Hell, her father’s health was in danger. Grif genuinely liked the senior Herrington and he didn’t want to do anything to threaten the man’s life.

  “Is anybody free to come out for a few weeks? I’ll take a leave while I try to get this worked out.”

  Duncan huffed on the other end of the line. In his mind Grif could see him swinging around in his big leather chair to survey the whiteboard. “Yeah, I might be able to wrangle somebody out there. Give me a few hours.”

  The tension in his shoulders eased just a bit. Then he could focus on Kendall.

  “I appreciate this, boss man. I’ll clean up my mess.”

  Duncan laughed on the other end of the line. “Yeah, right. Do me a favor and don’t fall for this girl. They’re dropping like flies around here.”

  Grif laughed as well. “Has Palmer manned up and asked Shannon to marry him yet?”

  “No. But Zeke just found his match a couple weeks ago. They are getting married.”

  Grif choked back his surprise. Zeke was a good guy, tough, but scarred all to fuck. “She must really be something.”

  “Oh, she is. I’ll get somebody out there for you Grif, but get your life straightened out. You need to be thinking long-term here, not just immediate crises.”

  “I know,” he sighed. “Thanks, Duncan.”

  “No problem.”

  Grif dropped his phone into his pocket and took a swig from the water bottle beside him. Duncan was right. He did need to be thinking long-term. The shock of the immediate issue had blurred his head. He had a kid coming.

  Grif dropped into the overstuffed chair behind him. What the hell was he going to do with a kid? He certainly had no idea. The thought of being responsible for a tiny little human being like that scared the shit out of him.

  His own parents were worthless. His mother was a drunk and his father had been a crook. Get-togethers in the Parks’ household consisted of liquor and yelling, with the occasional trip to the emergency room. Hunger had been his constant companion growing up, and when he’d run away from home at the age of sixteen, he hadn’t even been missed.

  One time in the past ten years he’d gone home. When he walked in the door it was as if he’d entered a twilight zone. His mother sat in the same chair, smoke curling around her head, high-ball glass in her left hand. She’d cracked a cunning smile when he’d walked in and fed him a sob story about his father dying and leaving her broke. Basically, she needed money.

  He’d had two hundred bucks in his wallet. He’d dropped it onto the table and walked out, more disgusted with himself this time because he’d still been looking for something that wasn’t there.

  Did he even have the ability to create a different kind of life for his child? He made good money from LNF, and other than a few toys he’d just let it accumulate. The apartment in Denver would probably not work though. He’d have to get a house with a yard or something, so the kid could play.

  Anxiety gnawed at his stomach. He ached for a drink.

  First he needed to decide what to do with Kendall.

  The woman made his blood run hot. Without a doubt she was the sexiest woman he knew. She’d been in a couple of movies years ago, but her ads for the lingerie company were the ones he remembered. Sultry and too beguiling for her own good. It was a real challenge to correlate that woman with the one in the bedroom now, cold and hard-edged.

  It made him wonder which was the real Kendall.

  Chapter 3

  Grif straightened the lapels of his suit jacket and fou
ght to keep from fiddling as the housekeeper walked him through Herrington House. Although that wasn’t exactly the right word for the type of dwelling they were in. When he thought of “house”, a two bedroom split-level came to mind. Not this overblown cabin. Even “cabin” did not carry the weight that the massive log mansion deserved, though.

  The best of Herrington Lumber had been used to build one of the most palatial retreats in Vail. The house was three stories tall, eighteen rooms, with huge soaring windows on all sides to capture as much of the pristine view as possible. The honeyed patina of the logs and the custom stonework, warmed of course, made the house feel rustic and inviting and he genuinely enjoyed working on the premises when Kendall met with her father. The windows were difficult to guard, but the mansion itself hung on an overlook with one meandering driveway up the side of the mountain. Easy to watch. Closed circuit cameras recorded the mountainous surroundings. Several more were strategically placed inside, easing the burden on the four man security team always on site.

  Grif tipped his chin to the small bubble camera in the foyer, knowing that Chuck would be watching and reporting.

  He had a sneaking suspicion the camera followed him as far as it could. Goodrich, head of security here at the house, didn’t appreciate outside talent coming onto his territory and he’d made it clear that the LNF contingent could leave at any time.

  Luckily, the choice wasn’t up to him. It was up to the man grinning at him from the cushy chair in front of the fireplace in the den.

  “Grif. Thank you for coming on such short notice.”

  The older man made a move to get up, but Grif waved him back down. “Don’t get up, sir.”

  Frank relaxed into the chair and motioned to the one beside him. “Sit down with me.”

  Grif tried to keep his curiosity in check. He’d gotten a message from one of Frank’s many assistants at the company saying that he needed to meet for lunch the next day at the house. Grif had never been there when not watching Kendall, so it seemed a little strange to have the man’s attention focused on him.