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Marry Me, Marine

Page 11

by Rogenna Brewer


  ANGELA FIDDLED WITH HER wedding band during takeoff. Because of her uniform she’d been upgraded to first class for this commercial flight from Kuwait to California.

  The man beside her, a suit-and-tie businessmen, had offered her his window seat, which she’d declined. She white-knuckled the armrests as the aircraft roared down the runway, picking up speed.

  There was that moment of weightlessness before the jet started to climb and she started to relax—although she wouldn’t feel totally relaxed until after that first drink. Not that she was a drinker.

  Or needed a drink to relax.

  It’s just that she’d already done the whole takeoff and landing thing once today, when she’d flown in from Afghanistan on a military C-130 Hercules. And she still hated flying with a passion.

  Plus she hadn’t had any R & R in six months. One drink would probably put her to sleep.

  The flight attendant came around with complimentary champagne. Angela eased her death grip on the armrest to accept a flute. “And could I get a chaser? A shot of Jack?”

  “Make mine on the rocks. And we’ll have two of those.” Her seatmate offered a reassuring smile and went back to reading Fortune magazine.

  “Uh-oh,” he said a short while later. “The ring comes off.”

  “Excuse me?” She tucked the horseshoe nail into the breast pocket of her desert cammies.

  “Sorry,” he said, raising his glass. “I’ve been watching you wrestle with that decision for the past half hour. Deployment must be hard on a marriage—”

  “Oh, no.” She glanced at the tan line the ring had left. She always took the silly thing off on the flight home. Always. “I’m not married. Well, technically, I guess I am.”

  “Separated?”

  And didn’t he have a devilishly handsome smile?

  She was used to men with shaved heads and flak jackets, barking orders at her all day. She wasn’t used to men with three-hundred-dollar haircuts and six-thousand-dollar suits—looking as though they’d stepped off the cover of GQ—willing to listen. “It’s a long story.”

  “It’s a long flight.”

  “LOOK AT THE SIZE of that rock!” Maddie pulled Angela inside the boarding house, and a short while later they were seated at the kitchen table. “So where’d you meet him? And when do we get to?”

  “On the flight home from Kuwait.” Her third tour in six years, and second time in Afghanistan since she’d been chosen as one of a handful of women selected to train an all-female militia. “I’m not sure when. It’s complicated.”

  “By complicated you mean Clay.” Maddie raised an eyebrow above the brim of her teacup.

  Angela stirred honey into her cup. “The wedding is in six weeks, Maddie. I need to be divorced by then.”

  “Quite the whirlwind romance.”

  Six weeks. She could practically hear Maddie doing the math in her head. She’d met Jake just six weeks ago. And in six short weeks she’d be Mrs. Jacob “Jake” Jeager.

  “It’s as much of a shock to me as it is to anyone.” She set the spoon aside. “He loves me, Maddie. And I love him.” She’d been with three men in her life. Only one of them had ever said I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Marry me.

  Didn’t she deserve that?

  “Then, what’s the problem?” Maddie prodded gently. “You have mentioned that you’re married? And that you have a son?”

  “Of course. I told Jake everything about my life in the first sixteen hours and forty-five minutes after we met.” The time required to get from Kuwait to LAX. She took a deep breath. “Except I may have skipped one very fine point… I didn’t think it any of his business at the time, but then we got engaged and he suggested an annulment—”

  “Clay would never go for that.”

  “Wouldn’t he?” Angela said with a touch too much sarcasm. She wasn’t so sure. He’d probably like nothing better than to retract the past six years. “I’m not asking him to,” Angela said for clarification. “But I am going to file for a divorce.”

  “Oh, Angela. Of course I’m happy for you.” The woman was all sympathy. But not for her. “It’s just that you and Clay have shared custody for so long…”

  Because she’d spent three of the past six years deployed. “Even if I wasn’t getting married, I’d still be leaving the service and moving on. It’s time, Maddie.”

  “I know,” the woman said with tears in her eyes. This divorce would be messier than Angela had ever imagined. “Please don’t say anything to Hatch until I’ve had a chance to talk to him.”

  “TIME TO PUT AWAY THE GUNS.” Hatch pocketed his cell phone. “Aunt Maddie just called. Your mom will be here any minute.”

  Blue yapped twice and took off down the road.

  “What?” Ryder poked his head around a cutout of Bad Guy and shot off another round of neon-colored paintballs. Hatch caught a pink one in the shoulder and dived behind a hay bale to fire back. Their game continued for another ten minutes until Ryder broke cover.

  Hatch took aim, fired—and plastered the SUV coming around the bend with the blue heeler chasing the rear tire. Angela slammed on her brakes.

  Hatch pushed back his visor. “Ah, shit!”

  “Busted.” Ryder removed his helmet. “For the record, Hatch, this is the coolest ninth birthday present ever. Even if we’re both grounded for life.”

  “Where do you think you’re going?”

  “You hit her hybrid. She’s gonna be pissed.”

  Hatch hauled him back by his coveralls. “She’ll be so happy to see you she won’t care.”

  Angela got out of the car in question, gaping at the neon-green spatters on her windshield. “You hit my car!”

  She stood in the middle of the road in her blue jeans, car door thrown wide and hands raised in disbelief. Now, wasn’t that a familiar sight. And damn if she still didn’t take his breath away whenever he saw her.

  Which hadn’t been often.

  But often enough to make him ache for something just out of reach. He’d decided a long time ago to keep their relationship in the friendship zone. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t remember how it had been between them.

  Blue sat on his haunches at Angela’s feet, waiting to get noticed. Hatch liked blue heelers for their smarts, but this one could sometimes get himself into trouble.

  Although this time Hatch looked like the only one in trouble. Angela bent to scratch behind the Australian cattle dog’s ear, until one hind leg twitched in pure ecstasy.

  Lucky dog.

  “You hit my car,” she repeated as Hatch got closer.

  “Wasn’t aiming to.” He removed his helmet and finger-combed his hair. “Of course, my aim ain’t what it used to be.”

  She rose to her feet. “That’s always been your excuse.”

  “How many times have I used it on you?”

  “For a paintball spatter, not once.”

  “Good, ’cause there’s only one other time I recall trying to chase you off my property. And look where that got me.” He leaned in for that awkward hug he knew was coming. You’d think they’d have figured it out by now.

  “Look at it this way, Mom,” Ryder said. “At least it’s the same slime-green color.”

  “Come here, you.” She laid her cheek on top of her son’s paint-speckled head. “I won’t be able to do this much longer. You’ve grown another couple inches since I last saw you.”

  Hatch gave mother and son their space. He wiped down her windshield and picked up her seabag from the back. He let Char, short for Charlie, out of her crate. The bomb-sniffing dog went immediately to her handler’s side and exchanged a cautious sniff with the other dog.

  Angela had been gone less than a year this time, six months overseas. And another six weeks back in the States before she could get away from her post.

  Normally, Ryder lived in an off-base apartment with his mother when she was stateside, since the waiting list for base housing was so long. And Hatch could have brought t
he boy to her. He’d done it once already. But she’d said something about having to stay in the enlisted barracks until she had their living arrangements all figured out.

  So they’d agreed it was in the boy’s best interest to finish out the school year here in Wyoming.

  The kid started to squirm before she let go.

  “Sorry I missed being here for your birthday,” she said to him.

  Ryder shrugged. “No biggie.”

  “It is a big deal. But it won’t happen again, I promise.” She squeezed him to her side and they started walking arm in arm toward the house. “How do you like the Nintendo DS I sent you?”

  “It’s cool.”

  “Not as cool as a paint gun, though, huh?”

  Hatch heard that twinge of jealousy in her voice as he fell in step beside them. For some reason she always thought Ryder preferred his presents to hers. But if she could just see the way the kid tore into any package from overseas, she’d realize how wrong she was.

  Never missing another birthday was not the kind of promise a Marine could make. There were other hints—the housing excuse, for one—that she might be thinking about getting out of the service.

  Hatch knew the closer she’d reached the end of her six-year enlistment, the more she wrestled with the decision, because they’d discussed it. A lot. But that deadline had passed while she was in Afghanistan, and he hadn’t heard a thing about her final decision.

  Which might have been what she couldn’t spit out over the phone during their last conversation. Near as he could tell she was once again homeless and jobless, like the day she’d been desperate enough to ask a total a-hole to marry her.

  They’d done a lot of talking over the phone and through email these past six years. But not once had they ever spent more than three nights under the same roof.

  So how was he supposed to have convinced her to stick around for a while?

  ANGELA STOOD at the kitchen sink, wiping down her paint-smeared T-shirt with a wet paper towel. She’d taken off her engagement ring when she’d stopped to open the cattle gate. The no trespassing sign still had the bullet hole from the day Hatch had tried to scare her off.

  Well, he hadn’t, and here she was about to hand him that divorce she’d promised him all those years ago. This should be easier than it was. It was what they both wanted.

  Their marriage had served a single purpose. And they’d only stayed married as long as they had because of Ryder.

  She’d offered to file for divorce after that first deployment. Nearly dropped to her knees with gratitude when Hatch had suggested they keep things the way they were for as long as she was in the service. Well, she no longer was. And was not only going to miss the Marine Corps, but was also going to miss Hatch.

  He’d made it so easy for her. He and Ryder had bonded from the start. And he was always there when they needed him. But she didn’t need him anymore.

  That sounded so selfish. She took another swipe at her shirt. That was not how she meant it at all. She just meant they didn’t need to impose on him any further.

  He wasn’t her husband in any sense of the word. Wasn’t even Ryder’s real father, though at times she wished he were.

  And, yes, at times she’d thought about the sex. Wanted the sex. Even times when it would have been convenient to have sex with her predestined ex.

  But she didn’t need to be screwing around with the relationship when what they had—rather, didn’t have—worked for both of them. And her son.

  That, and because like most headed-for-divorce couples, they couldn’t spend more than a few days under the same roof without fighting. So by some unspoken agreement she just made sure she never stayed that long.

  “I don’t think the stain’ll come out that way.” Hatch stepped into the kitchen. “Your bag is in your room.”

  “Thanks.” She tossed the paper towel into the trash and held the wet mess she’d made of her T-shirt away from her body.

  “The paint’s not indelible.” He dampened a dishcloth and wrung it out for her. “Face.”

  She put a hand to her cheek and came away with green paint on her fingertips.

  “Just a little.” He smiled. In fact, he smiled a lot more these days.

  “Maybe I’ll just go up and take a shower.”

  “Ryder is using the bathroom in the hall. You’re welcome to use the shower in mine.”

  Obviously, he’d already taken a quick one—his hair was still damp. She liked the way he wore it these days. Not too long. And not too short.

  “The place looks great, by the way. I’m surprised you have any time to play. Did I see more of those red cows out in the pasture?”

  “Red cows?” he teased.

  “Red Angus,” she corrected. He’d told her a dozen times. Angus beef. She bought it in the grocery store. But even knowing where it came from hadn’t turned her into a vegan yet. “How big is the herd now?”

  “About as big as it can get without expanding even further.” He could probably give her a number off the top of his head. But according to him, asking that question was like asking a rancher how much money he had in the bank. A cattleman could volunteer the information. Discuss it with his buddies. Even brag about it. But for her to ask was rude.

  She knew he’d doubled the size of his ranch by buying up some neighboring properties that had once been in his family. He had to feel good about that. And he’d hired help.

  “We make time,” he said.

  “Time for what?”

  “Playing.”

  Oh, yes, playing. That’s what they’d been talking about. She used the damp cloth on her flushed cheeks. He hadn’t even meant the word suggestively.

  Ryder bounded down the stairs. “Have you asked her yet?”

  “Let your mom get settled in.”

  “Asked me what?” She looked from her son’s excited expression to Hatch’s poker face.

  “How long you were planning on staying,” he said.

  “Just until school’s out.” The requisite three days. Wednesday, Thursday and Friday. Because by Saturday the two of them would be fighting about who knew what.

  Best to go in, get out. Grab her son.

  And no one got hurt.

  “That’s only until the end of the week,” Ryder whined. “Not even a week. Not even a half a week.”

  “It’s half a week,” she argued.

  “He’d like to stay through the Fourth of July.”

  “For the county fair—”

  “Ryder, that’s a whole month!” Being caught off guard added an edge to her voice, which she attempted to tamp down. “We can’t stay that long for a fireworks display. We have a lot of fun things planned for this summer.”

  A wedding. Moving. Yeah, she couldn’t think of one fun thing in store for a nine-year-old boy.

  Nine? Where had the time gone?

  Angela made a mental note to squeeze in something fun this summer. “What if we compromise and stay an extra week. We could go to a Rockies game and Elitch’s.”

  She used his favorite sport and the amusement park to try to bribe him.

  “That’s not staying. That’s driving all the way to Denver. Just ’cause you don’t like it here doesn’t mean I don’t like it here.”

  “I like it here.” She’d traveled the world and this ranch was the only place that… Yeah, he was right.

  The house was comfy and cozy and all that. But she’d always had that restlessness about her. Something she felt even more acutely while she was here. Which wasn’t all that often, thank goodness.

  But often enough to make her feel she didn’t belong. The ranch was home. Just not her home.

  Ryder had always felt differently, and for good reason. How attached he’d become was scary. To the state of Wyoming. The ranch. Hatch.

  “I’m sorry, son,” she reiterated. “We just can’t stay that long.”

  The Marine Corps had been the perfect fit for her. Travel, good benefits and job security. Except those year-
long deployments took her too far from Ryder. And for too long.

  So she had put all her effort this year into finding a more perfect compromise. And then she’d found Jake, and didn’t have to look any further.

  Because it was all so perfect.

  When they’d landed at LAX, after what should have seemed like an interminable flight, he’d asked her to dinner. By the end of the evening he’d offered her a job.

  She’d already been job hunting online for several months. Not shopping around for a new husband. At twenty-seven she was a strong, independent young woman.

  Career-minded. Not man-crazy.

  The option to work within his company, BlackWatch, was not off the table just because she was marrying the CEO. In fact, Jake had a love-hate relationship with the high-tech private security firm his father had started from the ground up.

  Coming from military Special Ops, he had a different vision for the company. And she looked forward to being his partner in all things.

  “But what about cattle dog trials?” Ryder argued. “Hatch said I could enter Blue this year.”

  “What’s a cattle dog trial?” Some days she and her son spoke two entirely different languages. Thanks to Hatch.

  “Dog competition,” Hatch clarified, for the most part staying out of their discussion.

  “What kind of competition?”

  “For junior handlers,” Hatch said.

  “Hatch promised last year I could enter Blue this year. I’ve been working really hard.”

  “I’m your mother. I have veto power over Hatch.” She met his single-eyed gaze over Ryder’s head. “We’re staying to the end of the week. And maybe next week. But that’s it.”

  “You missed my birthday. You make me miss everything! I hate it when you come home!”

  CHAPTER TEN

  LATER THAT EVENING Hatch joined her out on the rear porch. “I recognize that thousand-yard stare.”

  Angela went back to crimping her wet hair with a towel as she gazed into the stormy sky. Lightning flashed in the distance. “It reminds me of tracer fire.”

  Thunder rumbled and she tensed.

 

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