Gage could see how fiery and gleaming her red hair was beneath the sunlight. Alexa had a light sprinkling of freckles across her nose and cheeks, which he now saw since they were outdoors in the light. Her freckles just made her look that much younger.
“My brother, Matt, sees himself as a knight from King Arthur’s court. Compared to today’s men, he’s a throwback. He opens doors for women and actually stands when a woman gets up from a table.”
Shrugging, Gage said, “Nothing wrong with that, is there?”
“No, but . . . it’s just odd. No other guy does it. Well, except you, now.”
“Matt and I were on an op,” Gage told her, “and we had some time on our hands. Matt was telling me how much he liked the King Arthur tales. I asked him who his favorite knight was.”
“That was Sir Gawain,” Alexa said.
“Yeah. We had a good laugh on that one because that’s the one I saw myself as.”
“I believe that,” she said, giving him a soft smile.
“Why do you say that? You barely know me.”
If he only knew how much she sensed about him, but Alexa’s love of astrology never went over well with a man. She’d learned that from hard experience—a lost relationship many years ago when her boyfriend, Brad, laughed at her ability to pick up energy from other people. It had hurt Alexa’s feelings deeply, and she separated from him, because she knew he would never respect her for who she really was.
“It’s just a feeling around you,” she answered, not providing any more information than that to Gage.
“Oh, women’s intuition?”
“I guess that’s one way to put it.” She saw a faint smile for a moment and liked how it highlighted his strong, sensual mouth.
They came to a crosswalk; there, on the other side, was the women’s B-hut area. Navy Seabees had built the four-room plywood houses ten years earlier. Now, four women in four small, cramped bedrooms were all that was left. It was Alexa’s home away from home. As they crossed the wet, gleaming street where the snow was continuing to melt away, Alexa said, “What are you doing tomorrow, Gage?”
“Nothing. Just resting up from this last op. Why?”
Alexa moved down the sidewalk to the second row of B-huts. It was so narrow that Gage walked behind her. Five huts down was her hut. Turning at the porch steps, she looked up at him, handing back his leather jacket. “You probably know our mother runs the Delos charity?”
“Yes, Matt’s told me a lot about it.” Gage pulled on his coat, zipping it up, putting his hands into the pockets so he wouldn’t reach out and touch her. She was standing so close now, her head tipped upward toward his.
She took off her aviator glasses, and he enjoyed the green, gold, and sienna in her large, warm eyes. He took off his sunglasses, too, holding them loosely between his fingers.
“I’d love to meet you for breakfast tomorrow morning, Gage. Meet me here at 0700?” She gestured to her B-hut. “Then walk with me over to the Navy supply. My mother sent a huge pallet of winter clothing, boots, and shoes for the kids of a Shinwari village nearby. Matt was going to help me separate everything out in boxes, mark what was in each one, and then get them set up for another pallet to be loaded on a CH-47 helicopter the day after. We’re going out to that village day after tomorrow. It’s a safe village. Well, as safe as it gets. It’s a pro-American village, and I’ve delivered plenty of food, medicine, and clothing to those folks over the years.” She gave him a pleading look. “Would you like to do that? Help us out?”
Gage saw the sincerity burning in Alexa’s eyes. What man could tell this woman no? He sure as hell couldn’t.
“I’d like that,” he said. “I’ll drop by here at 0700 tomorrow morning and pick you up.”
He saw her face flush, a radiant glow in her eyes, and he swallowed hard, keeping his hands where they were, despite the urge—no, the need—to reach out and touch her. He noticed that her freckles became more pronounced when she flushed.
“Great!” Alexa laughed and stepped forward, throwing her arms around his shoulders, giving him a spontaneous squeeze of thanks. Stepping back, she said, “You really are like Sir Gawain. I’ll see you tomorrow morning, Gage . . .”
CHAPTER 3
Gage tossed and turned all night long in his bunk at the barracks reserved for the sniper units. Alexa had surprised the hell out of him by suddenly throwing her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly, and just as quickly releasing him. And for a sniper who could move at lightning speed, he’d stood still, shell-shocked by her unexpected action. Looking into her hazel eyes, so full of life and hope in their depths, he was deeply moved. It was the first time in a long time.
God, she triggered things buried so deep inside him that he ached, but he had no way of stopping it. His heart was wide open. Wanting. Needing. Dreaming. Everything Gage had ever wanted had been killed, and no longer did he dream, although some nights he had PTSD flashbacks. Everyone on the base got them.
Now Alexa made him want to dream again . . . of falling in love . . . of finding the right woman. Fear rose in Gage, as it always did. He’d learned early on that loving others could get them killed.
Why the hell had Alexa done that? Why did she have to have such a positive view of life? And of him? He was no knight from the Round Table. He took lives in the line of duty and would never be thought of as a savior. After his father was slain, Gage had spun out of control. Gage was supposed to walk Jen home from school to their home. One of his teachers had flagged him down to speak to him as he was leaving to meet his sister. Gage tried to tell his teacher he had to meet Jen, but she said it would only take a minute. When he didn’t show up on time, Jen started to walk their Chicago neighborhood streets alone. A gang attacked Jen on the way home from school and killed her. Gage had gone crazy with guilt, grief, and rage. When he found Jen dead in the alley, he’d called his father and then the police. His father had gone berserk, hunting down the gang members, killing two of them before they killed him. In the span of two hours, Gage had lost all but his mother. Two years in juvenile detention had tamed him but not extinguished the murderous desire that simmered inside him. He’d had dreams at least once a month of killing those who had coldly murdered Jen and his father. Two of the killers had survived, and he’d gone to court and had them put away for twenty-five years. That had satisfied some of his need for revenge, but not all of it. Gage had turned to the Marine Corps to somehow make peace with his heartbreaking past, and Marine Corps sniper school was a perfect outlet for all his losses.
Hey, at least here he was killing bad guys who made life hell for the innocent Afghans. That gave him some sense of closure, a small island of peace.
But Alexa. Damn! Being around her made him feel peace, something he’d not felt since he’d lost his family. He lay there in his bunk, his hands behind his head, staring up into the darkness, hearing the snores of his other three roommates nearby. The walls did not keep out any sounds, and normally he could sleep through it but not tonight. Closing his eyes, he envisioned Alexa’s soft, open face. He still didn’t see the combat pilot in her, although he knew it was there. She doubtless had many layers to her, and Gage was intrigued by her fearlessness as she had pressed against him.
Why had she hugged him? She was so damned beautiful, curvy, all woman. There wasn’t a man who didn’t want someone like her in his life. People just didn’t go out of their way to hug someone else. His heart stirred with pain as he recalled how his mother had always hugged him and Jen.
But hell, she was an officer, and he was enlisted. The two were oil and water in the military—they didn’t mix. Alexa had known better, yet disregarded the UCMJ, Uniform Code of Military Justice, curving her arms around his shoulders.
The memory of her sweet body imprinted briefly against his had sent a sheet of fire roaring through him. It had been so long since he’d been in a woman’s arms. And she smelled so damned good as she held him tightly for that one moment in time. The light fragrance of almond oil,
he had instantly confirmed, was in her red hair as the strands tickled the side of his beard as she embraced him.
Gage suddenly thought of her older sister, Tal, who was completely unlike spontaneous Alexa. Tal was grounded, serious, conservative, and would never be seen doing what her little sister had just done to him. He wondered, did Alexa hug everyone? Or was what she’d done with him special? How Gage wanted it to be special.
But to what end? He knew damn well if he even contemplated a relationship with Alexa, prying eyes would see them together, and male jealousy would probably rear its head. Gage was sure that he’d be turned in to his CO for fraternizing with an officer and then get his ass hung on a court-martial.
And what would it do to Alexa’s career? Gage knew she was leaving the Air Force in less than three months, but he was sure she didn’t want to leave with a blot on her record.
For him, it would be even worse. If he was found out and court-martialed, he’d be busted in rating and demoted. He’d worked too hard to become a staff sergeant to lose it.
Yes, he was truly fucked now, because he was desperately drawn to Alexa Culver, right or wrong. His body couldn’t have cared less that she was an officer, but his head wanted to keep him on the straight and narrow. Unfortunately, his heart weighed in on the side of his brainless lower body. Two against one. Hell. Gage wanted Alexa. He wanted to explore what was sizzling between them. And with his body and heart in charge, who knew how long he could hold out?
*
Alexa tried to still her anticipation at seeing Gage Hunter in a few more minutes. She’d slept deeply last night, dreaming of him, and tried to imagine what he would be like without that shaggy hair and black beard. It had been an enjoyable dream, because despite how he looked, she had undressed him, splayed her hands across his powerful chest, tangled her fingertips in the dusting of hair across it, heard him groan, and felt him respond. She’d awakened this morning with dampness between her thighs.
In all her years of relationships, that had never happened before. As she sat on her bed, quickly putting her long hair into a single braid, she felt excitement over this morning jolt throughout her body. Today she was off duty and could wear civilian clothes, thank goodness. She had sent most of her items home already, prior to leaving the Air Force in another two and a half months. Her winter clothes were all that was left. She chose a dark green turtleneck sweater, which matched the color of her eyes, and jeans. They wore well in the base’s dusty and dirty environment.
Normally, Alexa didn’t bother with makeup, because she never wore any while flying. But this morning, she’d pulled out her small cosmetic bag and added a touch of moisturizer to her skin, which the desert liked to dry out, and put on some foundation to cover her telltale freckles. Then she’d topped it off with pink lipstick.
Alexa knew it wasn’t much, but for her, it was a lot. Getting dressed up at Bagram wasn’t high on her list, but she’d do it for Gage Hunter. Wanting to feel feminine because he made her feel that way, she had woven a gold and green satin ribbon into her braid as well. Then she added a pair of small gold hoop earrings her mother had given her for her fourteenth birthday. They were made in Kuşadası, Turkey, where she’d been born.
Her mother, the epitome of fashionable, had taught Alexa how to dress with “quiet elegance,” as she called it. A true lady, she had taught Alexa, never boldly flaunts her beauty. Rather, she captures it like a beautiful painting that others can admire and enjoy.
Well, jeans and a turtleneck sweater certainly weren’t bold. Alexa stood, holding up her small, round mirror, checking out her face, her braid, and her earrings. She didn’t need any blusher because her cheeks were already pinked up with anticipation over seeing Gage again. The man certainly stirred her. Yesterday, he’d handled that scene in the canteen just like the knight she knew he was. He didn’t threaten or push his weight or height around. That had impressed Alexa, because she’d had relationships in the past with men who embarrassed her with their Neanderthal tactics. Gage appealed to her womanly senses: her mind, because he was highly intelligent, and her heart, because she felt a living, invisible connection between them.
She grabbed her dark brown nylon winter jacket and shrugged it on. She’d worn her ankle-high, sheepskin-lined boots, because the supply area was cold and unheated. Adding an Afghan shemagh of cream and green checks that she’d bought from one of the Shinwari village women, Alexa wrapped it warmly around her neck and shoulders. Last, she pulled a dark green knit cap over her head. Alexa knew that didn’t look very sexy, but where they would be working, she’d be glad to be wearing it.
Tucking her military ID into her pocket, she picked up her dark brown leather gloves. Alexa didn’t look too closely at why she’d suddenly thrown her arms around Gage yesterday afternoon. He’d looked shocked by her behavior, and she’d briefly considered explaining herself. But hadn’t Matt already filled him in on her? Alexa wasn’t sure.
She’d see how Gage treated her this morning and where their conversation went with one another. Her heart did a funny flip-flop in her chest, and her pulse ratcheted up as she glanced at her brown leather wristwatch. It was time. Would Gage be out there waiting for her?
Alexa walked quietly out of her tiny bedroom into a hall separating the other women on either side of the unit. She tiptoed down the passage. The B-hut door had no window in it, so she couldn’t see if Gage was out there. Pushing it open, she saw him standing down below the steps, hands stuffed in the pockets of his beat-up bomber jacket. He lifted his chin, staring directly at her.
Feeling as if someone had stolen the air from her lungs, Alexa halted, one hand on the door. Gage Hunter was clean-shaven, his black hair now military short beneath his green baseball cap. And God, he was impossibly handsome! Her heart pounded as she gently closed the door so it locked behind her. Turning, she gave him a radiant smile.
“Wow, Gage, you clean up nicely!” She gestured toward his face. And his mouth was to die for! Alexa had known it was well shaped, but now it was a work of art—from a kissing perspective. And he wasn’t as rugged looking as she thought he might be. It was his jawline that spoke of his steadiness. His blue eyes were clear, and she saw the corners of his mouth pull up briefly over her whispered words. Alexa didn’t want to wake up her friends who were still sleeping.
She moved off the porch and gestured for him to follow her down the walk. Literally, Alexa could feel Gage behind her, shadowing her like the silent ghost he was. She tried to hear him walking in those black leather boots he wore with his jeans, but heard no sound at all. No surprise—snipers were taught how to walk silently so no one could hear them approach. She halted where the small sidewalk flowed into the much wider one along the street. Turning, she smiled up at him.
“Good morning! I didn’t want to say much back at the B-hut.” She gestured toward the row behind them.
“I understood,” he said, nodding. “You look a whole lot different this morning,” he added, lifting his hand, touching the green knit cap on her head. “No one would ever guess you’re a combat pilot.”
She felt her heart lift as she fell beneath his spell. That sizzling, yearning energy throbbed wildly between them, just as it had yesterday when they’d first met. “I like keeping people guessing,” she said with a chuckle.
Alexa liked his casual attire today; he wore a bright-red, long-sleeved shirt beneath his leather jacket, his shemagh loose around his neck and shoulders.
“You do like keeping people off-balance,” he agreed, sliding his hand beneath her elbow, guiding her beside him. “Like yesterday. You took me by surprise when you jumped me and hugged me.” He slanted her a warm look, not wanting her to take his words the wrong way. What he saw was a flush coming to her cheeks. Alexa was blushing!
For a moment, she looked away, and then met his gaze. “Didn’t Matt warn you?”
“About what? You?” he chuckled. He forced himself to release her elbow and stuffed his hand into his pocket.
“Funn
y, Hunter.”
“Do you jump men you don’t really know all the time?” Gage saw the redness in her cheeks deepen, and he felt a little mean pushing her about it.
“You weren’t exactly unfamiliar,” she said archly. “Matt has known you for five years. Could I help that I didn’t meet you until yesterday? I generally know all the guys on his team, as well as his friends here at Bagram.” She shook her gloved finger in his face. “You’re the one who got away.” Her lips curved, her teeth white and even.
Snorting, Gage managed a partial grin as he absorbed her beauty, her lively spirit and soft heart. And she did have one, for sure. “I s’pose that’s a fair assessment,” he drawled. “But let’s go back to jumping on me.”
Alexa made a sound of protest in her throat, frowning. “Now, listen, Gage, I don’t ‘jump’ guys, okay? Matt will tell you I’m a hugger and a toucher. Tomorrow at the village you’ll see me hugging and kissing those kids all the time.”
A kiss would be ideal, Gage thought, keeping it to himself. “So? Why did you do it then, Alexa? Why jump me out on your porch yesterday?”
“Because,” she began, opening her hands, “I felt like you needed it. A little TLC, maybe?” She stole a quick look up at him, unsure of how Gage would take the admission. It was the truth, after all.
Gage moved them across the two-lane highway to a chow hall about a quarter of a mile away. He pondered her words. “Was that an ‘I feel sorry for you’ kind of hug, then?”
“Heck, no! I don’t believe in pitying someone. My mother taught us compassion in action. We weren’t to feel sorry for someone if we could give them a hug, a hand up, or support of some kind.” She held his serious gaze. “We’re human, Gage. We’re social animals by nature. We all can use a hug from time to time. Don’t you think?”
He gave a shrug. “I think you’re right. It just caught me unawares, was all.”
“I could tell by the look on your face,” she said wryly. “If you’re going to hang around me, you’ll have to get used to the fact that I’m that way. People need hugs. They need to be touched. Held. It’s in our nature.”
Broken Dreams (Delos Series Book 4) Page 4