Cocktales

by The Cocky Collective

  The waitress I’d made an accomplice to my little plan came sauntering up with a beaming grin and two thumbs up. “She’s on her fourth mimosa, but I remember her from being in here before, and her tolerance is surprisingly high, so I don’t think you have anything to worry about.”

  That was the understatement of the year. My girl could drink an Irishman under the table and walk away in four-inch heels without so much as tripping. That was only part of the reason she was so goddamn perfect for me. Another part was that attitude of hers. Most people saw me instantly coward. With my height and build I could pretty much intimidate anyone. But not Corrine. She never batted an eye. If I so much as raised my voice she’d dress me down worse than any CO I’d come across and my Southern Momma combined.

  If anything, the damn woman scared me.

  She was fierce and loyal and tender hearted, and she was funny as hell. Nobody could make me laugh the way she did. She soften my hard edges. She was my other half, and being with her made me a better person.

  “Thanks,” I muttered, wiping my shaky palm along my brow. Christ, I was sweating like a whore in church. What was taking Gwen so damn long?

  Just when I was starting to think I was going to have to go out there and crash their little party she cam rushing down the hall looking more than just a little frantic.

  “It’s showtime!” she cried. “Now, just a heads up, she might be a little suspicious right now, so you might not want to leave her waiting too long.”

  “What?” I barked in a way that made everyone around up nearly jump out of their skin. Oh, another person who wasn’t scared of me? Gwen. Yeah, her and Corrine were definitely cut from the same blunt, sharp-tongued cloth.

  “It wasn’t my fault!” she cried, throwing her hands wide. “I’m too excited, okay? I might have been acting a little… off.”

  “Fuck me,” I ranked a hand through my hair in agitation. “I knew I shouldn’t have told you I was doin’ this.”

  “I’m sorry! Just… hurry. Before she calls and hounds Tate and Gina into spilling the beans.”

  All of a sudden I felt like I was going to be sick. I’d been to some seriously dark places and seen the worst of humanity, but none of that scared the shit out of me as much as this. I was beginning to doubt myself. What if I wasn’t enough for her? What if I didn’t deserve her. And worst of all, what if she said no?”

  “Shit. I… Maybe I should wait.”

  “Ian.” Gwen placed a calming hand on my arm. “Are you starting to have second thoughts?”

  Yeah. No. Maybe. Christ,” I grunted, squeezing my eyes closed and rubbing at my forehead. “I don’t know. What if… What if she says no?”

  For some reason that made her smile like a Cheshire cat. “You’re scared she’ll say no?”

  I wasn’t just scared. I was fucking terrified. “I know you said she’d say yes, but what if you’re wrong?”

  “Oh, sweetie.” She moved in and wrapped her arms around my waist, squeezing as tight as she could before pulling away and looking up at me. “You know how you said men and women share more with the person they were in love with than even their closest friends? Well, when it comes to the people they love, best friends don’t hold back. And she’s gone for you, honey. Absolutely crazy, stupid, over the moon gone for you in a way I’ve never seen her with another man. So I swear to you, she’ll say yes.”

  And just like that, I didn’t just feel better, I felt like I could concur the goddamn world.

  “Now go get your girl.”

  I didn’t have t be told twice.

  Coming around the corner and into the main dining area, I spotted Corrine rummaging around in her purse, and pulled out the chair Gwen had vacated just a little while ago, and sat down.

  “Ian?” she asked, confusion in her big beautiful eyes. “What are you doing here? I thought you said you had stuff to do today.”

  “I do.”

  Her forehead puckered in confusion. “What the hell is everyone’s deal today?” she asked, looking around the room like the answers would pop out of thin air. “First Gwen’s acting like she woke up farting roses this morning, and now you’re being all mysterious and stuff. Will someone tell me what’s going on before I lose my mind?”

  Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out the black velvet ring box and rested both my hands on the table. Corrine gasped and clasped her hands over her mouth as soon as I flipped it open.

  “I love you, baby,” I started, saying the very first words that popped into my head. “I didn’t realize something was missing from my life until I met you.” My hand shook as I set the ring box aside and took hold of hers.

  “Oh my god, honey—”

  “I never gave much thought to my future. I was just fine living day by day. But then I met you and started wanting things I never even considered.”

  “

  “Now I wake up every single morning and turn over to see my future sleeping beside me.”

  “Ian, I—”

  “You’re my better half, baby, and I can’t imagine not having you in my life. I didn’t think marriage was in the cards for me—”

  “Oh my god! Ian!”

  “What?”

  She lifted her hands to my lips and peppered my knuckles with kisses. “I love you too, more than you could even imagine. But if you don’t get to the end of this speech so I can say yes and have you slide that stunning ring on my finger, I’m gonna choke you, so help me god. And that would put a real freaking damper on the celebratory blowjob I’m planning to give you in the bathroom right after.”

  Honestly, I didn’t expect anything less from my Corrie. She knew what she wanted, and when it was sitting right in front of her she’d reach out an grab it with both hands.

  A smile stretched across my cheeks as I pulled the ring from the box and took hold of her left hand. “Marry me baby. Make me the happiest fuckin’ man in the universe and marry me.”

  Tears shimmered in her eyes as a wobbly smile tipped her lips up. “I didn’t hear a question in there.”

  “That’s because I wasn’t asking,” I stated. “I just told you I can’t live without you, and I meant it. You can either say yes, or I’ll cuff you to my bed until you see reason.”

  Her head fell back in a burst of laughter. “That whole cuffing me to the bed thing sounds a little fun. Not much of an incentive to get me to say yes.”

  Leaning closer, I lowered my voice so only she could hear. “Say yes and I’ll use the cuffs in a much more fun way. You have my word.”

  Those tears broke free and slide down her cheeks as she said the one word that made me the happiest I’d been in my entire life.

  “Yes.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes. Yes! I’ll marry you!”

  I slid the ring on her finger and shot out of the chair. Circling the table, I pulled her into my arms and kissed the air from her lungs. When we finally broke apart she was panting and grinning like the cat that ate the canary.

  “I’m heading to the ladies room. Wait two minutes and meet me in there.”

  Oh yeah. She was absolutely fucking perfect for me.

  About the Author

  Jessica is a wife and mother, a self proclaimed caffeine addict, connoisseur of inexpensive wine, and the worst driver in the state of Texas.When she’s not nose deep in her next manuscript, or binging on sit-coms, you can usually find her with her kindle in hand.

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  JESSICA'S PRINCESSES READER GROUP

  Also by Jessica Prince

  THE PICKING UP THE PIECES SERIES:

  * * *

  Picking up the Pieces

  * * *

  Rising from the Ashes

  * * *

  Pushing the Boundaries

  * * *

  Worth the Wait

  * * *

  THE COLORS NOVELS:

  * * *

  Scattered Colors

  * * *

&nbs
p; Shrinking Violet

  * * *

  Love Hate Relationship

  * * *

  Wildflower

  * * *

  THE LOCKLAINE BOYS (a LOVE HATE RELATIONSHIP spinoff):

  * * *

  Fire & Ice

  * * *

  Opposites Attract

  * * *

  Almost Perfect

  THE PEMBROOKE SERIES (a WILDFLOWER spinoff):

  * * *

  Sweet Sunshine

  * * *

  Coming Full Circle

  * * *

  A Broken Soul

  * * *

  CIVIL CORRUPTION SERIES:

  * * *

  Corrupt

  * * *

  Defile

  * * *

  Consume: coming July 9 (http://bit.ly/GRConsume)

  * * *

  GIRL TALK SERIES:

  Seducing Lola

  * * *

  Tempting Sophia

  * * *

  Enticing Daphne

  * * *

  Charming Fiona

  * * *

  STANDALONE TITLES:

  * * *

  Chance Encounters

  * * *

  Nightmares from Within

  * * *

  DEADLY LOVE SERIES:

  * * *

  Destructive

  * * *

  Addictive

  Fight or Flight

  Meghan Quinn

  Fight or Flight is a brief intro into the fighter pilot world I'll be bringing you into this coming June. (June 21st to be exact). The story is contemporary, military romance and revolves around the two main characters Colby and Rory, with a HUGE twist. Get ready for flight suits, fighter jets, and one epic romance.

  **Please note, this story is raw and unedited**

  Copyright © 2018 by Meghan Quinn

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Fight or Flight

  **STRYDER**

  “Get your ass down, cadet! Are you listening to me? I said ass down.”

  Grunting out another push up, I listen to the berating of a fellow cadet next to me who is tired, winded, and ready to quit, I can see it in his eyes, I can hear it in his grunts, in the pained “yes, sirs” he continues to deliver over and over again.

  Thirty-five.

  Thirty-Six.

  Thirty-Seven.

  I push my body to it’s limits, never letting up, never giving in, never letting the screaming or mental abuse get to me, because I’m used to it. Coming from a long lineage of fighter pilots in my family, I’ve been trained for this moment, I’ve been prepared and broken down to be able to face this moment head on without even batting an eyelash.

  Forty.

  Forty-one.

  Forty-two.

  Up and down, up and down. A sharp pain ricochets through my chest, echoing down my arms but I continue, I don’t stop. I don’t need to, I know I can continue to go on, to push past the pain.

  “Get up. Now!”

  Hopping up, I stand to attention, legs together, feet forming a forty-five-degree angle, arms stiffly at my sides, head forward. My abs are burning, my shoulders on fire, and my chest aches, not wanting to be lifted right now, but I hold formation.

  I’ve been through worse.

  “About face.”

  Twisting in a one-hundred and eighty-degree angle, I turn with my fellow cadets, facing the west, the picturesque Colorado Rocky Mountains a backdrop for our training, for the Air Force Academy’s basic military training.

  I’ve grown up staring at these mountains, memorizing each peak, the sway of the rocks, the bald spots, and the lay of the terrain. To me, they remind me of a home I never wanted to be a part of, a family I wished I could trade in. To the cadets who are from out of town, who are staring at these mountains for the first time, they’re awe-inspiring, giving them a surge of pride to be a part of something. But to me, they are a dull reminder of the expectations waiting for me back home.

  “Fall out and return to your tents.”

  Releasing the tension in our backs, we all relax and head back to our designated sleeping areas.

  What a fucking day.

  Marching.

  Obstacle course.

  Team building.

  It’s all the kind of stuff my fellow cadets came here for.

  Integrity first. Service before self. Excellence in all we do. The words we live by. They were drilled into us over and over again as we were shuffled off the shuttle bus that brought us up to BMT. They were spoken to us as we fell into line, picking up our gear, getting our heads shaved, passing through immunizations, and now as we battle it out at Jack’s Valley encampment for physical and mental strength.

  We’re day five into our eighteen days at camp and I can see the toll it’s taken on everyone so far from the slump in their bodies, the limping in their legs, the weary look in their expressions.

  I might be sore, I might be tired, but I know how to push past it. I know what it takes to be on top, to be the best, because my dad didn’t let me be any other way.

  Countless hours in the gym, out in the backyard, pouring down rain, carrying a rucksack on my shoulders, holding a gun above my head, jogging in place while my dad stood in front of me, umbrella shielding himself from the rain, drilling into me, over and over again until I was nothing but a puddle of a man on the floor.

  This is nothing compared to that. I could go another five hours before even considering to ask for a break.

  Popping through my tent door, I head toward my sleeping bag and sit down just as Colby, my friend, takes a seat next to me.

  Colby Brooks. I met him during intake, he was the only other guy in our group that I didn’t see true fear in his eyes. He was conditioned to know the proper way to talk to our commanding officers, his shoulders were stiff and upright like mine, and when a cadre approached him to scream at him about something, he stood there, in perfect from, not even blinking an eye.

  I saw a piece of him inside of me and I knew we were going to be friends.

  “Tired?” He asks, taking his boots off, making sure to stuff his shoelaces inside.

  “Nah.” I shake my head and lean back, taking in the sorry bunch of mother fuckers who are kissing the ground, begging to take a nap. “You?”

  “A little sore, but not tired.”

  After the first few nights in the tent spending some time with Colby, I’ve come to find out becoming a fighter pilot has been his dream since he was ten. The reason why he’s so conditioned to the lifestyle is because he taught himself, spending countless hours learning the moves, reading up on what it takes to be in the Air Force and to be accepted into the academy. He’s a wealth of knowledge, born and raised to be a part of the Blue Line.

  Leaning over so only Colby can really hear me, I say, “Did you see Johnson split his pants when hopping over one of the obstacles.”

  A small smile peaks past Colby’s lips as he nods. “Right up the crack, gave some of the girls in the squadron a show.”

  I chuckle quietly next to him. “It’s the little things, man. That made my goddamn day.”

  “Sure as hell didn’t make Johnson’s day. Spent the rest of the day with split pants, having to slink through water and mud.”

  I shake my head. “The sorry mother fucker.”

  Coming up to us, hobbling like an idiot, our friend Hardie takes a seat and leans all the way back on the ground, draping his arm over his eyes. “Fuck me.”

  Colby and I exchange glances. “Dude, not a good thing to say,” Colby replies.

  “Definitely don’t say it in the showers,” I add.

  Hardie strips his cap off his head and tosses it at my chest. I catch the mud-soaked hat just as Hardie says, “I didn’t mean it lite
rally, assholes.” He eyes the both of us and groans. “How the hell are you two still able to sit up after what we went through today?”

  “It’s called training,” I answer for the both of us.

  Hardie shakes his head. “You know what everyone is saying about you?”

  “Me?” I point to my chest.

  “Yeah, you?”

  I look to the side, lips thin and pressed together, trying to come up with an answer. “Hmm, that I’m a triple threat; handsome, strong, and ready as fuck?”

  “Pretty close, they’re all saying you’re a cocky mother fucker.”

  As I should be. Besides Colby, I’m the only cadet in my class that came to intake not only prepared for the physical work, but I came with nothing to lose. This won’t make or break me, at least that’s what I keep telling myself, convincing myself over and over again.