Uniform Desires (Make Mine Military Romance)

by Sharon Hamilton

  Lack of scantily clad females aside, the Officers Club at New River was pretty nice. The coolest part was the bar area. Squadrons from on base donated different pieces of memorabilia to dress up the place. Tail rotor blades, murals, mugs and the like lined the walls and the shelves behind the bar.

  Crash didn’t care what it was that kept other Marines away. All that mattered to him was that it was close by, the beer was cold and fairly cheap, and he could walk home if he needed to. It was a winning combination for him.

  For his buddy too, apparently. Zippy had arrived enough ahead of Crash that he’d had time to get himself a beer already.

  Crash walked up behind him and laid a hand on the man’s shoulder. "You know, if you didn’t insist on playing that stupid ass word game on your cell while taking a crap, you might not have to go get yourself another phone."

  Zippy twisted on the bar stool to glare at Crash. "Just because you can’t spell for shit doesn’t mean Words with Friends is stupid, and that’s not how it happened anyway."

  "Oh? This was a new and different phone toilet mishap? Do tell." Crash dragged a stool from beneath the bar and propped his ass on it.

  "No. It doesn’t matter. Forget about it. Just order yourself something." He frowned and became overly interested in the label on his beer bottle.

  Zippy avoiding the question so vehemently had Crash intrigued. "Well, damn. Now I have to know."

  "No. Drop it." Scowling, Zippy raised the bottle and chugged.

  "Come on. What? Tell me. Were you looking at porn while snapping your bean over the bowl and dropped—" He’d meant it as a joke, but Zippy sputtering on his mouthful of beer had Crash halting mid-sentence. "Oh my God. That’s it? Is that what happened?"

  "Shh." Still coughing into his fist, Zippy glanced behind him, no doubt to see where the bartender was. Probably concerned because for this particular shift the bar was manned, as it were, by a female.

  Crash was close to busting a gut laughing, but he managed to contain himself. Mostly. He couldn’t believe they were having this conversation at the O Club, but it was just too good to let go. "Oh, man. That is too funny."

  Zippy turned back, frowning. "As if you’ve never done it."

  "Held my phone in one hand to look at dirty pictures and jerked off into the toilet with the other? No. I haven’t."

  "Shh!" Zippy shushed Crash again. "Jesus, Crash. Not so loud."

  To keep the man from blowing an artery, Crash leaned forward and kept his voice low as he said, "How about using your imagination, Zip? Or, I don’t know, look at it once then put the damn phone down somewhere safe."

  "Can we let this drop now, please?"

  Crash ignored that request as a horrifying realization hit him. He’d borrowed Zip’s phone. Not too long ago, actually. He’d had that damn thing pressed right up against his face.

  "Shit." Crash shook his head. This situation was definitely less funny after that memory. "I’m gonna remember to never ever touch your phone ever again. Jesus, God only knows what’s on—"

  "I’ll have another one and he’ll have the same. Thanks." Zippy talked right over Crash as the bartender neared their end of the bar.

  She turned to get their beers from the cooler and Zippy spun on Crash. "Can we please talk about our plans for New York instead of this?"

  "Sure, let’s talk about New York. So while we’re on the boat, are you planning to watch some porn and snap in the dark in your rack with all the rest of the squadron right there, or you gonna hog the head so you can do it in private?"

  Zippy narrowed his eyes and shot Crash a less than friendly look. "Just for that, I’m not gonna tell you my news."

  "Aw, I’m heartbroken." Luckily for Crash and his broken heart, his beer arrived. He grabbed the bottle, dripping with icy condensation, and took a sip, letting the cold foam wash down his throat.

  Definitely worth stopping in for the ice cold beer alone. The fun of torturing his friend was just a bonus.

  "Fine. I won’t tell you that my sister Trish and her hot friend Dawn are meeting us in New York while we’re there."

  Now it was Crash’s turn to narrow his eyes at Zippy. "Hot friend? Zip, this better not be a fix-up."

  "No, of course not. You want to be alone. Be alone. I don’t give a shit. Don’t mean I can’t have a nice visit with my sister before we deploy."

  "Your sister and her friend. Why is she bringing a friend if she’s there to visit you?"

  "Because I don’t want her wandering around that friggin’ city alone, that’s why."

  "Okay." Crash had a sister of his own so he couldn’t argue the point. Zippy was a New Jersey native, not a born and bred Southerner like Crash, but a man’s instinct to protect his sister was universal. Still didn’t mean he trusted Zippy in this situation. The man had been trying to play matchmaker for him for a month now. "But I swear, Zip, if I think you’re trying to hook me up—"

  "I know. I know. You’ll find your own damn woman when you’re ready." Zippy lifted his beer and mumbled behind the bottle, "if you’re ever ready."

  Why couldn’t his friends understand his situation? Finding out the girl you’d been dating had been running around on you was enough to turn a man off relationships for a good long while.

  "Give me a damn break, Zip. It’s only been a few months." Crash didn’t think that was an excessive amount of time to take to recover. And it wasn’t as if he hadn’t gone out and had a few flings to soothe his male ego after that particularly devastating blow.

  "Whatever. I didn’t say you had to date Dawn. Just be nice to the girl so my sister doesn’t feel bad for bringing her—" Zippy stopped. "Aw, crap."

  "What?" Crash hated to ask, because it probably wouldn’t be good.

  "I was supposed to call Trish today to firm up plans." Zippy blew out a breath. "I’ll have to stop by the office on the way home and use my desk phone. I called to get a new cell overnighted to me so I’d have it for the det, but it won’t be here until tomorrow."

  And so they’d gone full circle, back to the sunken phone. Happy Zippy’s attention had moved away from Crash’s sorely lacking personal life and on to something else, he slid his cell across the bar. "You can use my phone. Just don’t take it into the bathroom."

  Zippy reached out and grabbed it. "Ha, ha. Funny man."

  "I think so." Crash grinned. "You remember her number, butter fingers?"

  "Yes, of course I remember her number." Zippy screwed up his mouth and shot Crash a look. "She’s my sister, you dork."

  Crash shrugged. "Just asking. A man who hasn’t learned after drowning not one but two phones in the shitter over the past six months might be a little challenged in the uh, area of mental capacity."

  "Whatever." Zippy pressed the phone to his ear. "Be quiet. It’s ringing."

  While Zippy waited for his sister to answer, Crash took another sip of beer. He was starting to get excited about the det again.

  It would still be a hell of a fun time up north. Zip and his sister might very well be up to no good and playing matchmaker, but not even that could ruin this trip.

  He just had to get through his workday tomorrow and then he’d be on his way. New York City had better watch out.

  Chapter 3

  New York City

  "Trish, I’m so, so sorry I couldn’t come with you today. Are you sure you’re okay there in the city all alone?"

  "I’m fine, Dawn. Really. I’ve been to Manhattan by myself before. And my brother should be here any minute." Trish glanced at the clock in the dashboard of her car.

  "I still feel bad."

  "Well, don’t. I’ll just have to have fun with all the hot Marines on my own." Trish smiled as she heard Dawn’s groan through the cell phone.

  "Don’t remind me. I can’t believe I’m missing Fleet Week for jury duty."

  "You’re doing your civic duty." While Trish would be doing hers here in New York by supporting the troops—or at least ogling them. Her gaze tracked two sailors as they crosse
d the street. Well worth the hour and a half drive from home. Seeing her brother would be nice too.

  Dawn sighed. "That won’t be much comfort while I’m sitting there bored to death in some courtroom and you’re surrounded by hundreds of men in uniform."

  "I think it’s more like thousands of men in uniform, actually."

  "Great. Rub it in some more, thanks. Crap. They’re calling us back into the courtroom. I’ll call and check in later. Text me if anything good happens. Oh, and send me a picture of some hot military guys so I have something to look at."

  "Yes, ma’am. Talk to you later." Trish disconnected the call.

  It definitely would have been much more fun if Dawn had been able to come but at least she’d have her brother, Danny.

  Her phone buzzed and she glanced down to see his name on the readout. Speak of the devil…

  She hit the button to answer. "I see you replaced your cell so you don’t have to call me from your friend’s phone anymore."

  "Yes, I did. And no teasing. I’ve had enough from him on that subject. Where are you?" he asked.

  "Where you told me to be. Parked along the curb in front of your ship, and hoping the cops don’t chase me since I’ve been here for like twenty minutes already and this is a no parking zone."

  "I know. Sorry. They just cut us loose now. We’ll be right down."

  "Okay. See ya."

  We. Trish had to wonder who Danny had with him. She supposed she’d find out soon enough.

  He wasn’t right down as he’d promised, but about ten nerve wracking minutes later, as Trish kept one eye trained for parking enforcement and the police because she’d been standing in a no parking zone for half an hour, her brother and one other guy appeared. A very large guy, she noticed. One who filled out his uniform quite nicely.

  "Hey, Trish. Good to see you." Danny hugged her, and then peered past her into the car. He frowned. "Wait. Where’s Dawn?"

  Danny’s obvious disappointment had Trish laughing. "She couldn’t make it. And it’s very nice to see you too, big brother."

  "I thought you were bringing her."

  "I thought I was too, but something came up." She gave up waiting for her brother to make the introductions and turned to the Marine standing off to the side. She extended her hand toward him and couldn’t help but notice he had the bluest eyes she’d seen on anyone, male or female, in a long time. "Hi. I’m Trish."

  "Sorry." Danny turned to include his friend in the conversation. "This is John O’Malley, but you can call him Crash. We all do. Crash, this is my sister, Trish."

  "Nice to meet you, ma’am." He took a step forward and extended one arm toward her.

  She smothered the urge to cringe at the ma’am and chose instead to focus on an inventory of his assets. He was tall, just like she liked in a man and big, with nice thick arms and large, strong hands. The kind that would make a woman feel truly held. She couldn’t see his hair beneath his hat, but that didn’t matter. A man with a jawline that strong would look good no matter what. In a short military haircut. Hell, even bald.

  And that uniform… Very nice. Sure, her brother was dressed in the same thing, but somehow it didn’t look quite the same. This Crash certainly filled out his well.

  His large hand wrapped around her smaller one, much like his smooth southern drawl seemed to envelope her, making her want to hear more. She managed to say, "Nice to meet you too. Danny’s talked about you before."

  "Has he?" His sandy brows rose above eyes the color of the summer sky. "Forgive me if that worries me a bit."

  As he released her hand, Trish laughed. "Don’t worry. Nothing bad."

  He shot Danny a look, and then focused his gaze back on her. "I’ll have to trust you on that."

  Danny rolled his eyes. "Don’t worry about Crash. He’s always suspicious of me. So where do you guys want to go first?" He rubbed his hands together and looked from one to the other.

  "We’ve both been here a bunch of times, so maybe we should ask your friend what he wants to do." She turned to Crash and wondered how he’d gotten the nickname. They called her brother Zippy, but since their last name was Zipkin, that was a no-brainer. But John O’Malley being called Crash? Must be a story there somewhere and she hoped to find out what it was before the night was over.

  Crash shrugged. "This is my first time so everything’s new to me."

  He was so adorable she’d gladly take him anywhere he wanted. "My hotel room is near Times Square." She glanced at her brother. "We could park my car there and walk most places, I guess."

  "As long as there’s booze and women involved, I’m fine with it."

  Trish rolled her eyes. "I don’t think that’s what Crash wants to do on his first trip here."

  "Are you kidding? That’s exactly what he wants to do. We’re leaving for Afghanistan where we can’t partake of either of those things." Danny reached for the passenger side door handle. "Come on. Let’s go. Times a wastin’."

  "All right." Trish sighed. She’d take her pain in the ass brother to a bar, but it would be by way of some tourist attractions so Crash would at least see something while he was here. "Why don’t you let your friend sit up front so he can see better?"

  Danny’s brow creased in a deep frown. "No. I need to be up front so I can tell you where to go."

  "I know where to go. We’re only driving to the hotel and the damn streets are numbered, Danny. How lost could I get?"

  Crash moved toward the back of the car. "It’s fine. I can see plenty from the back."

  "See?" Danny cocked a brow. "Just get in."

  "Fine." Trish noticed the smirk on Crash’s face as he opened the rear door. Apparently sibling bickering amused him. That was a good thing. Trish had a feeling he was going to see a lot of it today.

  She managed to get to her hotel and park the car without killing her brother and his incessant back-seat driving, even if it was from the front passenger seat, but it left her good and ready for that bar Danny was so intent on getting to.

  They’d just hit the sidewalk and she was considering options when Danny started to look antsy. "Where we headed?"

  "How about we walk to Rosie O’Grady’s for drinks? It’s not too far." And they’d pass lots of cool places along the way.

  "Sure. That’ll work." Danny agreed and Trish hid a smile.

  She’d managed to get her way so Crash could see some sights. The iconic lights of Times Square. A few of the Broadway theaters. And the walk would take them right past the famous Military Island where the Armed Forces Recruiting Station was. Though come to think of it, Crash might not be as excited about that as Trish always was as she tried to get a glimpse of some men in uniform.

  It didn’t matter. Just the crowds and people watching in the city, and particularly in Times Square, were worth taking the time. There was certainly a lot to see already, and they’d just arrived. A horse across the street caught her eye. She put a hand on Crash’s forearm to get his attention, but all it did was capture hers—those were some rock hard muscles the man had.

  He glanced down at her to see why she’d stopped them.

  "Look." Trish tipped her head toward the officer on the horse standing right in the middle of the sidewalk on the other side of the street.

  Crash followed her gaze and she watched as his eyes widened. "Holy... A cop on a horse. Right on a New York City street."

  "What’s the hold up?" Danny had finally realized they weren’t behind him anymore and backtracked to where they stood.

  "I was showing Crash the policeman on horseback."

  Danny glanced across the street. "And?"

  "And, maybe he’d like to get a picture taken with him."

  Crash’s eyes got brighter. "Would he let me?"

  "We can ask." Trish shrugged.

  "Okay, I’ll ask. Will you take it?" Crash pulled out his cell.

  "Of course, I will." She took the phone and eyed the scene across the street. The massive animal with the officer atop his back. The neon beh
ind him. Crash in uniform. It would make one hell of a photo. "Run on over and I’ll take it from here so I can get a wide shot."

  "A’ight." Crash grinned like a kid who’d just heard the ice cream truck turning on to his street. He waited for a yellow cab to creep by, and then trotted across the road.

  Next to Trish, Danny stood shaking his head. "Look at him. He looks like a damn tourist."

  "He is a tourist. Leave him alone. He’s having fun." Trish smiled as she watched Crash crane his neck, looking up to talk to the officer seated so far above him. She glanced back at Danny. "If you run over there, I’ll take one with the both of you."

  Watching Crash, Danny pulled his mouth to the side like it was a ridiculous suggestion, but then he rolled his eyes. "All right. I guess it might look kind of cool since we’re both in our Charlies."

  Trish laughed. "In your what?"

  "That’s what we call this uniform. Just take the picture and don’t worry about it." Danny turned toward the street and made his way across, dodging the traffic.

  She may not know the names of all of the Marine uniforms, and until now she hadn’t much cared, but she wasn’t opposed to learning. Especially if Crash was her teacher and the body tucked away beneath his Charlies was anything like she imagined.

  Trish raised the phone, hit the camera function button and lined up the shot. The two Marines in their short-sleeved khaki shirts and green trousers with their chests decorated with ribbons earned over the years made for an impressive sight, one that had a few passers-by taking a second look.

  Smiling, she snapped the picture and planned their next stop, which would not be Rosy O’Grady’s if Trish had any say in it. Oh, they’d end up there, but after Crash got to see more of the city.

  Trish did a good job of it. Before they finally pushed through the front door of their final destination over half an hour later, she’d managed to cram in a few more things, including Crash’s first New York City hot dog and pretzel from a street vendor.

  Inside the cooler air of the dimly lit restaurant, Danny bypassed the main level and led them down the stairs to the bar. He aimed for an empty table. "What do you want to drink? I’m buying."