by Dawn Ryder
Woman, actually. Right there was the difference. Jaelyn was a woman, one who didn’t waste time on games. She’d been right there and he’d been too much of an idiot to recognize her for what she was.
He saw it now. The memory was eating him alive but he preferred that to being alone.
His cock was hard now. Stiff with longing as his lips rose into a hint of a grin while he continued to let his memories of Jaelyn parade through his mind. He rationed the time he let his guard down, only allowing himself a few moments before he slept to indulge in his mental obsession.
In those few, private moments he allowed his mind to enjoy the sweet anticipation of the day he’d be able to show her how much he’d learned since leaving her.
He wrote her letters she hadn’t answered but he was still going to pen another one tomorrow. He had no way of knowing if the mail got to her. A low grunt escaped his lips. He was reaching. His buddy Mercer got his letters just fine. Still, he wasn’t going to let the lack of response bug him. Quitting wasn’t in his vocabulary.
He would write another letter tomorrow.
Tucking the picture back into his shirt pocket, he made sure to button it to keep the photo secure. He patted it, and heat spread through his chest as he fantasized about her dark hair being spread out over him.
His cock throbbed behind his fly and his lips curved up higher. Anticipation might be good, but the moment he touched American soil, he was going to search out Jaelyn and live his dream. Reach out and touch it … touch her. Dig in his heels and court her like she deserved for not running around with every guy the way her sister did. He’d been the stupid one who was too immature to notice the gem sitting in front of his nose. He knew better now, felt the newfound knowledge rippling through him like a river.
Court her … That was what he was going to do. With flowers and carefully planned dinners and every sappy thing he could think of or find in a book to help him plan. Until then, he’d write to her and he’d picture her reading his letters and smiling because he took the time to reach out to her.
Yeah, he had a girl and he was going to show her just exactly how much she meant to him very soon.
* * *
It wasn’t right.
Some guys just didn’t understand the bond necessary to survive in a war zone. If a guy wouldn’t share the picture of his girl with another guy who didn’t have one, he couldn’t be trusted.
Gideon watched Bram strip off his vest. A ripple of relief crossed his face but it vanished a second later when the stench of his shirt hit his nose. Gideon grinned. Damn officers liked to think they were so much better than a normal guy like him but they stank just as bad after a few days without a shower. Gideon waited. He was good at waiting. Better than most guys. His mamma had always had some mean-assed boyfriend sleeping with her while he was growing up, and they were always quick to take a swing at him if he woke them up before they were ready to get out of the sack. So he’d learned to be quiet. Real quiet, like a ghost. He knew how to watch and wait for the perfect time to get what he wanted.
He stared at the vest lying over the half wall that served as a shower stall. There was a neat row of them on the east side of the base. Large hoses were secured to four-by-four rough wooden beams. They curled around to spray down into the stall. A hastily laid concrete slab with a drain set in its lowest point completed the bathing faculties. Bram’s boots appeared, along with the rest of his clothing. He stripped down quickly, ignoring the fact that his bare ass was on display. There were no female personnel at Cobra Fire Base. If you wanted to wash off the stink of the desert heat, you did it right out in the open.
Bram reached up to pull on the chain to release the water. It cascaded over his face in a white, frothy spray. He stared up into it and shook his head when the water hit his face.
It was time.
Moving across the sand, Gideon approached the showers. Water splashed down onto the concrete but he ignored it. Bram wiped the water from his eyes and looked at him out of reflex. Gideon began mimicking the motions of stripping down to bathe. Bram dismissed him, reaching for a bar of soap that he started to work over every inch of his skin from the top of his head down.
Gideon ignored the itch from his own skin. He stood close enough to the vest to finger one pocket. The snap opened with a tiny pop. Bram tugged on the chain, raising his face upward once more.
In a swift motion, Gideon pulled the small picture out of the pocket. He tucked it inside his own vest before the water stopped flowing. He had to wait to look at it. But it would be better that way. He licked his lower lip as excitement began to twist through him.
“You showering or what, Gideon?”
Bram eyed him with water still streaming down his face.
“Yeah, just thought I saw a bogey.”
Bram jerked his head around, scanning the horizon. Gideon began stripping. He draped his own vest over a stall and couldn’t resist giving it a little pat. Sweet anticipation spread its warm glow through him. She was his girl now. Because he’d been slick enough to steal her picture, that made her his. A man got to keep what he stole, that was one of the oldest laws on earth. Gideon reached up for another chain and yanked it hard. Cool, life-giving water covered him. He kept the pressure on that chain for a good minute, enjoying the fact that he could take a shower when there were people just over the rise who were worried about getting enough to drink.
He didn’t feel sorry for them. Didn’t waste his time on anything that didn’t have to do with him and what he wanted. Nothing else mattered.
Life wasn’t fair, so there was no reason for him to be.
* * *
Mexico …
They’d buried him in a shallow grave. Sullivan woke up gasping. When he sucked in a breath, he got a face full of burlap from his shroud. He could smell the dirt he was lying under and strained to move it. He fought for his life, struggling against the hold the earth had on him. He broke free with a snarl, clawing at the burlap and ripping it as two of his fingernails went with it.
He fucking loved the pain because he was alive to feel it. His entire face hurt like Satan himself had kissed it and that made Sullivan laugh. Yeah, the devil didn’t want him in hell, at least not just yet. He crawled out of the hole and happily kicked the dislodged soil back into place. A rough cross was hammered in at the top of it.
Ricky turned his back on it and walked away from the lights of the prison. His lip was split but he started to whistle as he went because he was on his way to happiness.
Vengeance was going to make him very, very happy. Tyler Martin was going to regret leaving him for dead. And while he was extracting what was due him, Saxon Hale, Vitus Hale, and Captain Bram Magnus owed him plenty for getting Carl Davis pissed off at him.
Yup, it was payback time.
Time for the devil’s due.
America
“Hurry up, Jaelyn!”
LeAnn stomped into the kitchen with the grace of a truck driver. Her candy-pink miniskirt swishing over her thighs didn’t look sweet or innocent. Neither did the scowl on her sister’s face. LeAnn always knew how to make the male population squirm and she enjoyed doing it, too. But it was an act, one that wasn’t employed behind the closed doors of the house.
“Can’t you iron faster? It’s preliminary tryouts today, and there is going to be a line a mile long. I could lose my spot if I’m not there to defend it.”
Jaelyn held up the iron and a puff of steam rose between her sister and her. “By all means, show me how it’s done.”
LeAnn instantly changed her demeanor. Her face brightened with a soft smile designed to coax. “Oh, Jaelyn, you know I’m a complete flop when it comes to making things nice. I’ve got to shine…”
“I know it’s important. Two minutes, if you want it done right.”
“Great!”
Jaelyn pressed the iron back down onto the little white top spread out on the ironing board. There was a hiss and another puff of steam. Her sister smiled and tur
ned around to look at her face in a wall mirror. LeAnn lifted one perfectly manicured finger, expertly smoothing out her eyeliner on her bottom lid.
Her makeup was perfect. The sort of thing you saw staring out of a magazine. Of course, that made sense. There were dozens of the things stacked up in the house, and she invested serious time in makeup classes. Jaelyn could admire the dedication, even if she didn’t see the personal value in doing it herself.
But they were alike when it came to their taste in men.
Jaelyn felt the sting of guilt as she lifted the little top off the ironing board. LeAnn grabbed the top and inspected it with a critical eye, then a rare, genuine smile crossed her lips. “You’re the best, Jaelyn.”
For a moment, time shifted, returning them to when they’d been kids and best friends. Just a blink, though, and there was a scamper of high heels on the entryway tiles. Her sister stopped long enough to shrug into the top before she opened the door to vanish down the walkway in a cloud of perfect hair.
“She’s an alien.”
“Morning, Grandpa.”
Her grandfather lifted a gray eyebrow at her. His lips were pressed into a hard line of disapproval but he shook his head, dismissing the matter. He made his way to the coffeepot and poured himself a mugful. He looked at her over the rim through the rising steam.
“I refuse to accept that any kin of mine can run out my front door without even saying good morning to me,” he drew a long sip from the coffee and shook his head. “Nicest thing I can say is, that girl must be alien spawn. I’ve got to be succumbing to old age for letting her live under my roof while she treats me like I’m already dead.”
Rolling her eyes, Jaelyn reached for a skillet. “She’s just impulsive. LeAnn loves you.”
It was a weak excuse but Jaelyn didn’t want to admit to her grandfather just why she let LeAnn walk all over her.
Guilt. It was chewing a hole in her.
Cracking an egg, she dropped it into the heating pan. It sizzled while her grandfather glared over the rim of his coffee mug at her. His face might be wrinkled by time but his gaze was still keen and cutting into her.
“Don’t ask,” Jaelyn advised him.
Adding two more eggs to the pan, she tried to let the promise of breakfast distract her grandfather.
“Does that mean the date didn’t go well?”
No such luck.
“It didn’t go … bad…,” she muttered. Unless she wanted to admit that Richard Sherlot’s kiss didn’t even curl one of her toes.
Not even a tingle, actually.
“That young man was put together rather nice.”
Jaelyn pointed the spatula at him. “The deal was, I’d go on the date. I did. A postmortem discussion was not included in the agreement.”
Jaelyn fluttered her eyelashes and held on tightly to her poker face. Her grandfather’s eyes twinkled, the finger aimed at her beginning to wave back and forth. Jaelyn shrugged.
Slipping the eggs onto a plate, she delivered it to the table in front of her grandfather with a flourish.
“You should be out where the boys can chase you instead of cooking for me.”
“I need to check the rolls.”
Jaelyn grabbed a dish towel and wrapped it around her hand. Her grandfather grunted and she opened the oven door to avoid the conversation, ducking out of the way as heat escaped. She gave her full attention to the cinnamon rolls bubbling on the center rack of the oven. She didn’t need to see the look on her grandpa’s face, didn’t need to hear him tell her to find a boy.
She didn’t want a boy. Disgust blossomed inside her, disgust for her own fascination with someone who wasn’t going to be thinking anywhere near as much about her. It had just been a kiss … God, she was pathetic.
She should have slept with Richard just to get her fascination with Bram out of her system.
Except that the entire idea made her feel like a quitter.
She wanted to fall in love and have amazing sex, not just sex. Was it too much to ask?
Jaelyn shook her head to clear it, earning a grunt from her grandfather.
“Kenny Gardener has a couple of boys. I’ll give him a call and—”
“One more word about setting me up and I won’t make the icing,” Jaelyn warned, looking over her shoulder at her grandfather. He narrowed his eyes at her. “One blind date a month is my max.”
“You play rough.”
She allowed her hand to hover over the power switch on the mixer. The icing ingredients were already carefully measured and waiting for the whipping blade to cream them together. Her grandpa only got home-baked rolls on the weekend because during the week she kept him on a strict low-fat diet. His eyes were bright as a boy’s on Christmas morning as the scent of hot sugar and cinnamon filled the air.
Fine, she was being rotten again but every girl had her limits. She flipped the switch and the mixer started up.
The phone rang, too. Her grandfather nabbed it.
“Why yes, Richard, Jaelyn’s here … she was just telling me about your date … Nope, it’s not too early at all.”
Milton smirked at her as the icing came together and he held the phone out to her.
She knew the look. Her grandfather looked sweet and innocent, but she’d learned to play hard from him. Seriously, Milton could sweet-talk a gang of old ladies into shining his shoes. She took the phone because she knew when she’d been one-upped.
Milton beamed and used the opportunity to cut himself a huge slice of cinnamon roll twist that he happily slathered with icing. Coffee mug in hand, he carried his prize toward the living room table as he winked at her and Richard started talking.
She really needed more coffee.
* * *
“Mail call.”
Bram kept his gaze on his tablet but his attention wasn’t on the information being displayed. Men were pouring out of their tents and work areas, high-tailing it on the double to where letters and packages were being handed out.
He was waiting, too, eager, poised, needy.
Shit.
He was practically drooling like a dog waiting for a bone. Just one damned meatless bone to prove he wasn’t invisible.
The private finished off his bag of mail without calling Bram’s name.
What did he expect? He’d jumped on her the second her sister tossed him aside. A girl like Jaelyn wouldn’t settle for a guy who thought of her as a consolation prize.
He forced himself to focus.
He would still write her another letter.
* * *
LeAnn climbed into her car Monday afternoon and frowned. The mailman was blocking the driveway. Clicking her fingernails against the steering wheel, she watched him stuff a folded bundle of sale circulars into the mailbox. With a rattle, the mail truck moved on to their neighbor’s box.
Backing up, she stopped at the curb. Getting out of the car she pulled the mailbox open. The letters were all sitting inside the circulars. Flicking through them, she pulled out the ones addressed to her. A little huff passed her lips as she found one with an overseas stamp on it.
Magnus. Captain Bram Magnus who had been overseas so long the man seemed to have forgotten whose boyfriend he was. LeAnn scowled at the letter. It was addressed to Jaelyn again.
She took it anyway and closed the mailbox. Climbing back into her car, she tossed the letter onto the passenger seat. Punching on her music, she merged into the traffic.
Boyfriends did not dump her.
Oh, she’d read every one of his letters to little Jaelyn. Each one made her madder than the last. He was hers. No boyfriend of hers was going to do one thing for any girl except her, and that included her sister.
Especially since little Jaelyn wasn’t as innocent as she put on. Magnus had penned such a nice apology for kissing her. LeAnn was the one owed an apology and she was going to get what she wanted.
Actually, what she really wanted was to … well … she couldn’t grasp the right word for it. In some part of her
brain, she realized Jaelyn deserved a guy like Bram. But that made her realize maybe she didn’t.
She clicked her fingernails and pressed the accelerator down.
She wasn’t going there. Nope. Life was hard and sharp edged. It wasn’t her fault and she wasn’t going to spend her time apologizing for playing hard in order to get what she wanted. Men did it all the time. Even Bram. He’d show up anytime he wanted attention, expecting her to be there, and she had been. But she wasn’t going to miss out on life while he was away.
He certainly wasn’t. Nope. Bram was earning his position and so was she. There was no way she was going to be shamed into becoming a groundhog that waited for spring to show up.
Cobra Fire Base
Gideon licked his lower lip. Sneaking a final look around, he unsnapped his vest pocket. Shoving two fingers into it, he felt the worn edge of the picture. Excitement sent adrenaline pumping through his veins. His hand actually shook when he pulled the picture free.
“Hot damn.”
His voice was raw and his mouth went dry. Behind his fly, his cock filled until it was hard.
“Sweet little pair of pussycats.”
The captain was a bastard for not sharing.
Bastard.
Gideon stroked the picture with the tip of his index finger. But which one belonged to the captain?
Gideon peered at the photo until he noticed the way the pretty girl had her skirt raised up to show off some thigh.
Got you.
He pushed the picture deep into his pants pocket.
Yeah, he knew which one. Because he was smart. Smarter than the idiots wearing uniforms. Maybe they got the glory but he was getting the paycheck. A man with money could get any girl he wanted, no matter who took her picture to war with him.
CHAPTER TWO
LeAnn captivated the opposite sex. Jaelyn watched her over the table of food laid out in honor of her grandfather’s Memorial Day picnic. It was the only holiday he took so seriously. He claimed it was his way of remembering how lucky he was to come home from Vietnam.
LeAnn was in top form, too. Her cut-off jeans showed off her legs and the waistband dipped in the front to show off her tight tummy. She looked like a queen and she was being attended to like one as well. Every unattached guy was near her. But there were no other young women near LeAnn. They stood in groups a fair distance from her sister. There was one thing you could count on and that was that LeAnn didn’t share. Not when it came to members of the opposite sex.