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Smolde: Military Reverse Harem Romance

Page 21

by Cassie Cole


  As easily as if I were a stuffed animal, Trace reached behind him and pulled me around to his front, cupping a hand underneath my ass and gripping my head underneath my hair. “Is that how you get all your romantic partners to stay? By jumping on their back and trying to wrestle them to the ground?”

  I smiled sweetly at him. “So far, it’s worked.” He kissed me tenderly on the mouth and looked at me with wide, serious eyes. “I was only making a joke. I wasn’t trying to frighten you.”

  He deposited me on the bed and laid back down next to me with a sigh. “But in doing so, you revealed a big problem about all of this. I am your superior. That’s a major conflict of interest. There are rules against this kind of thing.”

  I started to tease him by pointing out it was him who stormed into my room, but I didn’t want to scare him any more than I already had. “Technically, you’re just a team lead. We are otherwise equal, and both report to Callaway.”

  “Still…” he said.

  I ran my fingernails along his sternum. “It’s a crucial difference because you aren’t involved in any of the decision-making. If you were in charge of where to send each jump team, then it would be a problem because you could show me favoritism by sending me to the least dangerous areas. Since we’re on the same team, though, there’s nothing like that.” I kissed him just above the left nipple. “See? No conflict of interest. At least, not until you’re running Redding Base. Then we might have a problem.”

  That made the handsome man smile. “You’re beginning to convince me. But I still don’t want to run around telling everyone about this.”

  “No arguments here.” I laid flat on his chest and rested my arms underneath my chin, staring intently at him. “So how long have you been thinking about fucking—err, making passionate love to me?”

  “Since the moment you walked into the barracks.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Cross my heart,” Trace said. He looked bashful to be admitting this to me, which was adorable from such a huge man. “I haven’t been able to get you out of my head.”

  I made an aww noise and rested my head against his chest. “You’ve shown some incredible restraint, then.”

  “I lasted a couple of weeks without pouncing on you. Tons of restraint,” he said sarcastically.

  “Speaking of restraint, I’m surprised at how gentle you were with me.”

  “When?” Trace asked. Then his eyes widened. “Oh. Why do you say that?”

  “I don’t know,” I replied sheepishly. “I expected someone as muscular as you to use your strength. Be a little rough with me.”

  Trace was silent as he chewed that over. “You like that kind of thing?”

  “From you? I think I would.”

  He caressed his fingers down my back. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  Part of me was hoping he would take advantage of it right then and there, but a larger part of me was glad he didn’t. I was beat. And I knew Trace was just as exhausted.

  We were asleep within moments. Trace’s broad chest made for a comfortable mattress to rest on, and we slept for a while without moving at all.

  Eventually there was a knock on the door. I bolted upright in bed.

  “Shit,” I whispered. Then, louder: “Yes?”

  “Haley?” came Foxy’s smooth voice. “Just wanted to let you know our debriefing is in half an hour.”

  I groaned and looked at the clock. It was eleven thirty in the morning. “Why didn’t they call it on the PA?”

  “They, um, did,” Foxy replied. “But your door is still closed, so I figured I’d make sure you didn’t sleep through it.”

  “Thanks. I’ll be there.”

  I paused until I heard Foxy’s footsteps move down the hall, then I sighed with relief. “I couldn’t remember if I locked the door or not.”

  “He wouldn’t come inside without asking, would he?” Trace asked.

  I glared at him. “Asks the man who did exactly that this morning.”

  Trace chuckled, then his smile disappeared. “Serious question, Haley. What’s going on between you and them? Foxy and Derek?”

  I stiffened. “What do you mean?”

  Trace didn’t respond. He just stared up at me coolly.

  Guess there’s no point in hiding it.

  “Is it that obvious?” I asked.

  Trace put his hands behind his head, which made his biceps flex like two huge bags of flour. “I can tell they care about you in a way that’s more than normal camaraderie.”

  I sat cross-legged on the bed next to Trace and put my hands in my lap. Then I proceeded to tell him everything that had happened. Flirting with Derek throughout smokejumping school, and then hitting it off with Foxy on our last night there. Giving in since we thought we were never going to see each other again, and then being assigned to Redding together. Then my relationship with Derek reigniting once I called him out for being in a bad mood. I left out the part about Derek believing Commander Wallace had it out for him since I didn’t know if he wanted me telling other people.

  Trace listened quietly until I was done. “Both of them?” he asked. There was no judgement in his voice, thankfully. “Is it physical only?”

  “No,” I admitted. “I care about them. I wouldn’t call either of them my boyfriend, but it’s more than just physical.”

  “Do they know about each other?”

  “They do.” I hesitated. “We’ve sort of… Been doing stuff together.”

  “Oh. Ohh.” Trace’s eyes widened.

  “Do you think less of me?” I asked. “Do you think I’m a slut!”

  Trace sat up in bed and took my hands in his. “Of course not. I was with multiple women when I was in the Marines, so it would be hypocritical of me to think less of you for it.”

  “That hasn’t stopped men from judging women for it in the past,” I muttered.

  He tilted my chin up with his finger. “I’m not other men. It’s kind of awkward since we’re all in the same team together, sure, but I don’t think any less of you.”

  I kissed him and said, “I’m really happy to hear you say that.”

  “Having said that, I would be lying if I said it wasn’t a little weird. I need to figure out how I feel about all of this if we’re going to keep doing… whatever this is.”

  My stomach tightened. “Yeah, okay. I understand.”

  “I just need some time to wrap my head around it,” he quickly added. “A lot has happened in the past two days. I would hate to rush into anything because I was sleep-deprived.”

  “No, totally. I get it.”

  But no matter what I said out loud, on the inside it felt like someone was twisting a knife into my guts.

  Trace gave me a final kiss goodbye, then slipped out into the hallway.

  The guys were all eating lunch together in the mess when I walked out there. I gave them a little wave and made myself a sandwich from the deli meat in the kitchen.

  What are they talking about?

  “Hey, Hinch,” one of the smokejumpers said while making his own sandwich next to me. “Heard what happened out there. Hell of a day.”

  “Hell of a day,” I agreed.

  He put a hand on my shoulder. “We’re all glad you came out alright.”

  “For sure,” said Brinkley in passing. “It’s good to know you’re tough to kill, Hinch. We need more jumpers like you around here.”

  I grinned from ear-to-ear while making my sandwich.

  When I joined my guys at their table, Foxy rubbed his hand up and down my back. “You’re looking well-rested, Haley.”

  “That’s a bold-faced lie,” I said with a nervous laugh. “But I appreciate the compliment nonetheless.”

  Derek groaned across the table while holding his sandwich in front of his mouth without eating, like a zombie. “I slept for six straight hours, but it feels like I didn’t rest at all. I need a nap this afternoon.”

  “We’ll get one in the debriefing,” Foxy said. “The last t
hing I need is Callaway droning on about the mission we all want to forget.”

  Trace shook his head next to Derek. “I’m looking forward to the debriefing. I want to know who fucked up so badly that we almost died out there.”

  “Fuckin’ amen,” Cortez said a few seats down the table. “Someone dropped the ball out there, whether it was the Commander or the spotters. I want answers.”

  Several other jumpers voiced their agreement and pounded the table with fists. “Hinch and Donaldson almost paid the ultimate price thanks to shitty intensity reports,” someone else said. “We never had a chance with that width of handline. It should have been twice as wide. Whoever the spotter was, fire their ass.”

  “Was Ramirez on spotting duty?” someone asked. “I could’ve sworn…”

  At the other end of the table, Ramirez held up his hands. “Dude, it wasn’t me. I was in the second Sherpa spotting the handline progress. Not the wildfire advance.”

  “So who was the spotter calling out the wildfire intensity?” Trace demanded.

  Ramirez pursed his lips. “Let’s wait to see what Callaway says in the debriefing.”

  A few of the other guys tried to pry the information out of him, but he fended them off. Trace stabbed the table with his finger and said, “Whoever it was, Callaway is going to nail their ass to the wall.”

  “Fuckin’ right,” Derek said, slapping Trace on the back. “I’ll help him do it.”

  “I’ll be right there with you,” Trace responded.

  Although I cared about the tactical mistakes made during the mission, my mind was on my three lovers. They were getting along awfully well. Trace didn’t seem awkward or anything.

  Just because they’re in good spirits now doesn’t mean they will be later. Foxy and Derek were fine sharing me, but would they accept someone new?

  We finished lunch and gathered in the briefing room. It was packed, but rather than the friendly banter and classroom-like ruckus, it was eerily quiet. Everyone was running on a few hours of sleep. That, and they wanted answers for what had gone wrong.

  But when the door behind the podium opened, it wasn’t Callaway who strode into the room.

  I gave a start when I saw who it was. “Commander Wallace?”

  32

  Derek

  I was suddenly inside of a dream, where impossible things started happening and nothing made sense.

  “Commander Wallace?” Haley blurted out.

  I’d been looking at emails on my phone until she said his name. Wallace looked exactly how he had when we last saw him at McCall, with a hint of a beer belly pressing against his Forestry uniform and a thin grey beard that covered his spotting skin. He gripped the podium with both hands as if he needed the support.

  It was like seeing an ex-girlfriend in a public place. First I was surprised, and even confused. Then I was alarmed.

  What is he doing here?

  “Dude…” Foxy whispered.

  Wallace looked out over the gathered Redding smokejumpers. His eyes passed over me without stopping. “I am Commander Wallace,” he said with formal pomp. “Formerly of the smokejumping school in McCall. I am here to take over the duties of Redding Base until further notice.”

  “Oh my God,” Haley said next to me.

  This can’t be happening.

  “I know you all have been through a lot in the past three days,” Wallace continued. “I remember missions like that back when I was still jumping, and the last thing I wanted when I got back to base was to listen to an old man in a too-clean uniform lecture me about what happened. Nonetheless, I wanted to introduce myself to you as soon as possible, before any rumors could spread. I’ll keep this meeting short, unless you all have any questions.”

  “What happened to Commander Callaway?” Brinkley asked in his thick Brooklyn accent.

  As smoothly as if he’d rehearsed it, Wallace said, “Callaway was relieved of his position after taking responsibility for the massive failure of your most recent mission. He’s at the Forestry headquarters back in Washington filling out his discharge paperwork as we speak.”

  “They canned Callaway?” Cortez said with shock.

  “That’s impossible,” someone else said. “None of it was his fault!”

  “When was this decided? You can’t do this!”

  Wallace patted the air and smiled smugly. “Now, now, I sympathize with your opinions completely. Nobody likes to blame their commander when things go wrong. Unfortunately, I was not part of the discussion surrounding Callaway’s removal. I was put on a plane and flown here to take over without knowing much myself. I’m just as shocked as you are.”

  I frowned. The mission had just ended earlier this morning. How had the Forestry Chief made the decision, removed Callaway, and then flown Wallace here all in the space of a few hours? Something was rotten about the whole thing.

  I shared a look with Haley. She was thinking the same thing.

  “I understand why all of you are frustrated,” Wallace said smoothly. “You’re unhappy with the mission results. I’ve only read the preliminary reports on my flight here, but it appears there were poor spotting assessments of the wildfire intensity, and weak anchor points. Beyond that, the handline positions chosen were extremely aggressive. The deadline was damn near impossible to meet. All of you were stretched too thin to properly do your jobs.”

  Wallace spread his hands like a preacher inviting the congregation to share in his sermon. “You smokejumpers here at Redding Base are the finest in the country, and not even you could do what was asked. That’s not a failure of effort—it’s a failure of leadership. Callaway did not give you the best opportunity for success. Whether you liked him or not, that’s the God’s honest truth.”

  Around the room, other jumpers seemed to be buying it. I gritted my teeth. How could they be so easily convinced by him?

  Trace stood up on the other side of Haley. “Sir? Callaway told us he was pressured from above to be aggressive with our jumps. He claimed it was the Forest Service leadership in Washington forcing him to push us to the brink of what we could handle. Are you saying that’s not true?”

  Wallace’s laugh was condescending. “That’s a story as old as time itself. An incompetent manager blaming the people above him for the decisions he made. You know as well as I do that the United States Forest Service gives complete autonomy on decision-making and strategy to the local base commanders. Any aggressive jumps that were made were Callaway’s decision alone.”

  “That may be how it’s supposed to be,” I whispered to Haley, “but that’s not how it’s been lately.”

  She nodded and whispered back, “Preaching to the choir. But everyone else…”

  I looked around the room. Brinkley and Cortez were frowning skeptically, as well as a few other jumpers. But more people were nodding in agreement. Most of the jumpers in the room actually agreed with what he was saying!

  “I’m a straight shooter, so let me give it to you straight,” Wallace said. He sounded like the wanna-be cool teacher telling a classroom not to do drugs. “I’m just the interim commander here, but while I’m here I’m going to be a different kind of leader. I’ll be more honest and open with you. You’ll never go on a mission you feel you cannot complete, and if there’s a mission that doesn’t make sense, my door is open to discuss it so I can help you understand my thought process.”

  He paused to let that sink in.

  “Redding Base is known for the quality of its jumpers. You have shown incredibly hard work and dedication to protecting this nation’s forests from wildfires. The Shasta Wildfire is one of the worst I’ve ever seen. I’ve told the suits back at the Forest Service headquarters that I’m halting all jumps for four days so you can get some rest and recuperation. The teams in Redmond and Grangeville can pick up the slack in the mean time. You all deserve a break.”

  Several jumpers cheered and clapped softly. I gazed around the room in horror. Four days off is all it takes to win them over?

&nbs
p; Only then, with the room applauding him, did Wallace look directly at me. There was victory in his eyes and his smile. Like a predator who had cornered his prey.

  Shit.

  33

  Haley

  “Derek!” I shouted while jogging down the barracks hall. “Hey! Wait up!”

  I caught up to him outside his room. There was little life in his blue eyes now. He looked defeated, the way he’d been when we first arrived at Redding.

  “All of that is bullshit,” I said, gesturing behind us. “Are you alright?”

  “Sure I am,” he said.

  He tried to go into his room, but I grabbed his arm. “I’m being serious.”

  “I’m alright, Haley,” he said softly. He sounded tired. “Wallace has been trying to get his revenge on me all this time from a distance. It doesn’t make much of a difference now that he’s here. I’m going to be alright.”

  I didn’t believe him, but I didn’t want to push the issue.

  Later, at dinner, Trace showed us his cell phone. “I texted Callaway about what happened. Demanding answers. All he told me was that we need to keep our heads down and avoid ruffling feathers. He said we have a job to do, regardless of who is in charge.”

  “Easy for him to say,” Derek said.

  I frowned at Trace’s phone. “Hey, have you guys seen my phone?” I asked.

  “Why would we have your phone?” Foxy teased.

  “I don’t know. I can’t find mine…” A memory tickled my brain, like I should remember where it was…

  Trace put his phone away and crossed his arms over his uniform. “He’s not wrong. Yeah, it’s bullshit that he took the blame for our last mission, but we do have a job to do. We don’t have much control over the leadership. We’re just jumpers.”

  “It’s crazy to see Wallace again,” Foxy said around a mouthful of mashed potatoes. “Thought I was done with him when I graduated. Better him than some other rando, right?”

 

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