by RC Boldt
Raine spoke in a gentler tone when she said, “Laney, he’s been in love with you forever. Way before you even realized it.” She took her friend’s hand in hers. “He’s your forever.”
“You guys have been living together and that’s been going great, right?” Tate posed the question. Zach had moved into Laney’s small beach house after he had let his lease run out on his own place, thinking he was leaving the area after he and Laney had hit a really rough patch.
They watched as Laney’s face took on a lightness only reserved for when she spoke of her boyfriend. “Yeah, it’s been pretty great.”
“Maybe he’s just waiting for you to show a sign of interest in taking things further?” Raine looked on expectantly.
Laney tossed a hand in the air. “Like what? ‘Oh, hey, Zach. You know what I feel like doing today? Getting engaged. Oh, but only if you want to.’” She made a face. “Yeah, that almost sounds normal. Not even remotely smooth.”
Raine smiled. “Honestly, Laney, none of that matters as long as your words are from the heart.”
Laney hid her face in her hands. “I can’t believe I’m even talking about this. Me.”
Raine and Tate exchanged a smile. Laney had been notoriously anti-relationship until Zach. And even that had been a rough road. So this was huge for Laney. And, understandably, foreign to her.
“Let’s change the subject to something way more interesting.” As Laney focused on her, Tate felt tingles of unease along her spine. Glancing warily between her two friends, she definitely didn’t get any warm, fuzzy feelings.
“So. You and Pearce, huh?” Raine wiggled her eyebrows suggestively.
Grinning, Laney added, “Did you two get all hot and heavy after we all headed out?”
“Ooh! Maybe he pushed her up against her car and was all like …” Raine trailed off, arms wrapped around an imaginary person, eyes closed, tongue flicking in and out suggestively.
Tate stared at her. “Um, please. Just … stop.”
Laney shook her head at their friend, eyes wide, before giving a little laugh. “That was actually kind of frightening, Raine. Especially with all that lizard tongue action.” She turned her attention back to Tate. “But, seriously. It seemed like you guys hit it off pretty well.”
Oh, they’d hit it off well, all right.
Eyes lighting up with humor, she leaned forward in her chair. Lowering her voice conspiratorially, she said, “Well, we were standing there beside my car one moment and the next, he was kissing me within an inch of my life.”
Laney and Raine both leaned in, wearing matching expressions of interest. “And?” Raine prompted.
“And we … promptly decided that we both needed to hurry home and scour our mouths with a brillo pad because it had felt like we were making out with a sibling.” She leaned back in her chair to wait for her statement to sink in.
Laney’s mouth fell open before clamping shut, giving Tate the feeling her friend was trying to restrain a smile.
Raine, on the other hand, appeared crestfallen. “Nothing? At all?”
“Nope. Nada.”
Laney grinned. “Maybe you’ve been ruined.”
“Ruined?” Raine questioned.
“Yeah. You know. By Tebow’s lookalike.”
Seriously. Would they never quit?
“Kavanaugh,” Tate warned, eyes growing squinty.
Her friend laughed, turning to Raine. “You know she only does that last name thing when I’m on to something.” Turning back to face her, Laney asked, “What happened after you got home from the kiss-your-sibling-experience?”
The innocuous question wouldn’t have normally set Tate on edge, except for the way her friend was looking at her. It was as if Laney knew about Miller’s unexpected visit that night. As if she knew about the kiss. But that was impossible.
Wasn’t it?
“Okay, so this whole staredown thing you two have going on is creeping me out. Can someone please just come clean already?” Raine’s tone had a tinge of exasperation to it.
Laney smiled mysteriously. “Zach had to give a surf lesson to Kane this morning.”
Silence.
Tate exchanged a look with Raine before staring at her friend expectantly. “O-kay. And what, exactly, does that have to do with me?”
Laney raised her eyebrows. “Kane is Miller’s roommate, right? So, Miller came home much later than expected. Wouldn’t say where he had been. And,” she tipped her head as she continued, “he said Miller smelled fruity … like mango.”
Tate felt her entire body go still. Trying to play it off, she scoffed, “And you think it just had to be me? Because there couldn’t possibly be any other woman in this world who uses mango scented body wash?”
Laney stared at her for a long moment before tipping her head to the side quizzically. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”
She wasn’t off the hook, though. Nope. Because Laney continued to eye her. In silence. While Raine looked on, watching with dry amusement.
Laney was the first to break the silence, speaking rapidly. “Miller stopped by last night, didn’t he?”
Damn it. She caved. She couldn’t lie to her friends. “Yes,” she muttered.
Her friend didn’t miss a beat. “He didn’t like the attention you got from Pearce, did he?”
“Nope.”
“He kissed you and it didn’t remotely feel like you were kissing your sibling, did it?”
“Nope,” her response came out on a sigh. Because their kiss had been the complete and utter opposite.
“And you two …” Laney’s head tilted to the side as she appeared to analyze her, this being the only part her friend seemed unsure of, “… did it?”
“No.” Tate was sure to say this emphatically.
Not that the thought hadn’t crossed her mind while Miller had her pushed against the wall, felt his hardness pressed against her stomach. The way he had slid his hands over her body, kissed her neck—
“You look flushed.” Raine’s voice interrupted her. She glanced over to see her friend looking concerned. “Do you feel sick?”
Sick with turmoiled thoughts, maybe.
“No. I’m fine.” Her words came out rushed.
Laney caught her eye, studying her intently. She watched as her friend’s lips slowly curved into a wide smile.
Uh-oh.
“I know that look.” Laney tossed a quick glance at Raine with raised eyebrows. “That’s not a sick look.” Focusing intently on Tate, she continued. “That’s the look of someone who is flushed because she’s thinking about something hot. Something hot that, perhaps, went down last night?”
It was more than just hot, an inner voice argued. It was like being thrown into an incinerator.
“So,” Laney inquired, “if you guys didn’t have sex, what did you do?”
Raine bounced in her chair excitedly. “Ooh! Did you do oral?”
Tate and Laney stared at her before Tate spoke. “Raine, I love you, but the possibility of me and Miller having oral sex,” she held up a hand when her friend started to speak, “which we did not, shouldn’t get you this excited.”
Raine seemed disappointed. “It’s not that I’m excited about the thought of you guys doing that. I just like the thought of you guys together, that’s all.”
“Not happening, chica.”
“So you two didn’t get all sucky-sucky below the belt?” Laney asked. “He didn’t give your cat a bath?”
Raine failed to cover her snicker.
“Laney.” Tate’s tone was full of warning.
“Tate,” her friend parroted back with an innocent smile before giggles burst forth. She gave in to her own laughter as the three of them began trading terrible oral sex euphemism back and forth, each trying to top the last.
You know, just a typical Sunday with the girls.
Dear Miller,
I’m not sure what to say. Today was a much harder day for me. The grief counselor warned me it would happen. Told me
that if I tried to be too strong and act like I had it together, I would crumble at some point. He said I have to let grief run its course and it has no specific timeline. Everyone’s experience is different.
I wish you were here, as stupid as I feel for admitting it. Because you used to be the one person I could always lean on, the one person who understood me. I always felt safe in your arms. I always felt happiest there, too.
I really thought you’d at least write me once or leave me a message to let me know you still cared about me and about everything that happened. I guess when you’re done, you’re done, huh? I wish I could just be done with you. But this damn heart of mine … it still wants only you.
I wish I didn’t still love you.
Tate
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
MONDAY HAD BEEN IN THE shitter from the start. First, on the way down to the site in Orange Park, there was a huge pile-up on I-295 and traffic had been rerouted. That meant it took he and Kane longer than normal to get to the location.
It also meant that he was stuck in the vehicle with Kane longer. This normally wouldn’t be an issue except for the fact that his friend had still been up when Miller had come home Saturday night from Tate’s. And he had been quick to remark on the mango scent which had lingered on Miller as he’d walked past, heading to his room.
Green Berets were no slouches in the observation department, either. Miller wouldn’t go so far as to say they were more keen on picking up nuances than SEALs were, but they were pretty damn good at it. Not that he’d ever admit it to Kane, though. Hell, no.
Of course, his friend gave him hell for coming home smelling of fruit. And, if it weren’t enough to get shit for it that night and part of Sunday, too, he was on a roll while they were currently traveling in Miller’s Jeep.
“So, you never did tell me what happened to make you come home smelling like delicious mangos the other night? Don’t be shy, Vaughn. You can tell Doctor Windham everything.”
Doctor Windham? Was he for real?
“Kane,” Miller nearly growled his friend’s name.
“Ooh, you make my name sound all sexy when you say it that way.” Kane grinned. “Did you use that same tone with the mysterious woman you visited the other night when you rubbed up against her?”
His hands clenched tightly on the steering wheel. Thank God they had just arrived at the site’s entrance. As he steered the vehicle into one of the lanes to enter the Naval Base, he took Kane’s ID from him, ready to show their credentials to the men manning the gates.
“Vaughn, come on. You’ll feel better once you ’fess up. Did y’all get it on? Was it hot sex?” Kane looked at him expectantly before casually tossing out, “Probably hot sex like Pearce and Tate had that night. Those two seemed awful chummy, didn’t they?”
Miller refused to meet his friend’s eyes, his spine stiffening, jaw clenching at the mention of Hadley. The same man who’d had his mouth on Tate’s. Who had touched her, tasted her.
Fucker.
“Whoa. Tone it down, man. You look mighty intimidating right now, and that’s not a good thing when we’re going through the security checkpoint.”
Miller continued staring straight ahead as, little by little, they moved closer to the gate guards.
“Going the radio-silence route, are you, huh? Okay … well, that just means I have to come up with what I think happened Saturday night.”
He remained silent, feeling his friend’s eyes on him.
Kane’s voice lowered dramatically. “He couldn’t take it any longer. So he stormed up her stairs, entering her home, and shoved her up against the wall. Kissing her passionately, he seductively rubbed his body against hers.”
Was he for real? It sounded like he had taken a page from some old romance novel. Miller fought the urge to look over at Kane when his friend paused.
“She moans, ‘I need you, Vaughn.’ And then he fucked her up against the wall?”
They had just pulled up to the gate guard and Miller handed their IDs to the man. The gate guard greeted them before handing back their IDs and wishing them a good day.
“That was a question, you know,” Kane said.
“I realize that. It’s also a question I’m not answering. I’m not answering anything regarding Tate.”
Silence. Odd since Kane rarely stalled when he was in the process of harass—
Oh, fuuuuuck. He suddenly realized why.
“Ah, ah.” His friend wagged his finger at him. “I never said any names.”
Miller didn’t have to turn his head to see what he knew would be a wide, satisfied grin on his friend’s face.
“So. It was Tate who got you all hot and bothered … only to a certain extent. Well. That would explain why you’re not acting all footloose and fancy free. You’ve been a bit crotchety, actually.”
“Kane.”
“Yes, darlin’?”
“Change the subject, please.”
“But, pumpkin pie, I like this subject. A lot, actually.”
Miller could hear the smile in his friend’s voice, southern drawl more pronounced. As he turned into the parking lot, he felt the weight of his gaze. Putting the vehicle in park, he turned off the ignition, sitting still for a moment before turning to face Kane.
“You may like this subject, pumpkin pie, but I don’t.” He held his friend’s gaze, the two of them having a staredown of sorts.
Finally, Kane let out a long, dramatic sigh. “Whatevs.”
Did he just say ‘Whatevs’?
“Let it go, Windham.” Miller shot him a hard glare.
His friend’s eyes lit up, excitedly. “I love that song. That could be our code, Vaughn. Whenever the subject of you and Tate comes up, I’ll just say, have you heard “Let it go” yet? And you’ll be the only one who knows what I’m talking about.”
“Wrong. You’ll be the only one who knows what you’re talking about with that shit.”
Kane scoffed. “You know, sometimes you take this whole big, bad Navy SEAL thing too far. Is it because you’re in the company of a badass Green Beret? Because, if so, no worries, man. It’s okay to show your tender, softer side.”
Miller thumped his head back against the Jeep’s headrest, eyes falling closed as he muttered, “Why me? Why do I get the pain in the ass friends?”
He felt Kane punch him lightly in the shoulder. “Don’t lie, honey buns. You wouldn’t have it any other way.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
A FEW WEEKS PASSED WITH no word—or late night visits—from Miller. None. No surprise ‘Let’s go get sushi’. No pushing her against the wall in her entryway and molesting the hell out of her. Nothing. Which was a good thing. Yes. It was a very good thing. Because they had no business touching each other in any way. Regardless of how delicious it had been.
Crap. Her thoughts had really been veering off in the wrong direction lately. It was like her mind had jumped on the train—with a one-way ticket, no less—headed to Raunchy Town. And Miller Vaughn was the conductor.
Guess he had really taken to heart what she had told him that night. So, then, why did she feel the slightest disappointment about it?
“No frowning, gorgeous.” Tate’s head shot up in surprise from where she was organizing the graded papers on her desk. Pearce had stealthily sneaked into her classroom. What was with all these military guys and their ability to open heavy classroom doors without a sound?
“Hey, you.” She smiled in greeting. “How’d things go with that parent conference you had?” He had mentioned having a conference at the request of a mother who was heinous, to say the least. The woman expected her daughter to get straight A’s when the poor girl was a solid C student. Those parents were the worst to deal with.
Pearce groaned, shaking his head. “Thank God Mr. Pratt was there. She started getting loud and accusing me of ‘sabotaging Charlotte academically’.” He made a face. “Whatever that means. So, I laid out all the documentation of how I conferenced with her daughter, one-on-one, all of
her tests—including some of the open book tests she barely passed—and Pratt looked the mother straight in the eyes and says, ‘Seems like we’ve got a mediocre student on our hands. Nothing wrong with that. Especially when she has a stellar teacher like Mr. Hadley.’”
Tate chuckled. Their principal was one of a kind. It was rare to work for an administrator who was as supportive of their faculty and staff as their principal. And especially rare for said administrator to still have an understanding and respect for all the crap that went hand in hand with teaching.
“So then he goes, ‘But if you’d prefer her to be in Mrs. Osbourne’s class, we can certainly move Charlotte there.’”
Tate’s eyes went wide. “Oh, no.” That was a definite zinger since Mrs. Osbourne was approaching retirement this year and it had been highly noticeable the last few years that the woman had adopted the ‘slacker’ mindset. No one could do anything about it since her husband was on the Board of Education, however. And this woman was the kind who gave teachers a bad name. A really bad name.
Pearce nodded with a short laugh. “Yeah. You should’ve seen how quickly she changed her tune once he’d offered that up. The conference wrapped up pretty quickly after that.”
Shaking her head, she muttered, “This is what people don’t see. The crap we have to deal with on a daily basis.”
“You said it.” He collapsed into the chair at her front table. “So what’s on the agenda for the weekend? Besides not making out with yours truly, of course.” He gave her a cheeky smile.
She shot him a look. “Yuck it up, funny man. Yuck it up.”
“Seriously, though. What’s the game plan?”
“Actually, I heard that everyone’s supposed to head over to Raine and Mac’s on Friday night.”
“Sounds good to me. You have plans for dinner beforehand?”
Tate batted her eyelashes playfully. “Why, Hadley, are you asking me out to dinner?” She imitated a strong, southern accent.
“Stop that. You’re turning me on,” he joked. The door to her classroom opened on his last few words.