Laws of Attraction

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Laws of Attraction Page 10

by RC Boldt


  “Really, Laws?” Zach appeared at the doorway with a skeptical look.

  “Duh.” Raising a finger, he said, “One, I love women.” Holding up another finger, he added, “Two, I love women in hot dresses.”

  Patting him on his chest in a placating manner, Laney replied, “Sorry, Laws. It’s a girls-only event.” She began heading to her own classroom, tossing over her shoulder, “Love you, babe. See you at home later.”

  “Love you, too,” he and Zach answered in unison. His friend shot him a glare.

  “What?” He held up his hands. “How was I to know she wasn’t talking to me?”

  “Laws.” Zach shook his head, chuckling softly.

  “I’m heading out. You ready to roll, too? Pearce should be—”

  “Right here.” Their friend had just approached where they were standing.

  Zach made a face. “Sorry. I’ve still got to get caught up on some things. I figured I’d stay late since Laney’s going to be off with the girls.”

  “Gotcha. See you tomorrow, man.”

  After saying their good-byes to Zach, he and Pearce headed down the hallway to the door leading to the stairwell which would take them to the first floor. Descending the stairs, he attempted a casual tone as he posed his question.

  “So … this running thing of yours.” He paused as he concentrated on the steps beneath his feet. “You, uh, run with Lee sometimes?”

  His friend didn’t immediately answer. In fact, there was such a long silence that he glanced over his shoulder at Pearce when they came to the bottom of the stairs, about to exit through the side door of their school.

  And immediately saw the blatantly obvious delight on his friend’s features.

  So much for trying to play it cool and suave.

  Sliding on his sunglasses, he pushed the door open to exit the school, holding it for Pearce. “Go ahead, Hadley. Go ahead.”

  “What?” Pearce asked with mock innocence. “Go ahead with what? With harassment since you’re so head-over-heels for Langley Ford that you’re nearly salivating at the prospect of me telling you about how she and I have sometimes run together?”

  His head whipped around. “You do this often?”

  “Good God, man.” Shaking his head, his friend said, “You’ve got it bad. No, not often at all. It was more like a, Hey, I saw you running along that same route I took twice in the span of a few weeks, and then we fell into step, moving at the same pace. End of story.”

  “Huh.” The men made their way to the faculty parking lot, approaching his SUV first as Pearce’s vehicle was parked in the last row.

  “Huh, as in I’m trying to figure out a slick way of asking Pearce how hot she looked running? Or huh, I’m thinking about trying to get into running so that I can run with her all the time?” his friend asked. As he unlocked and opened his door, tossing his stuff onto the passenger seat, he turned to face him, leaning an arm casually atop the door.

  “Maybe a little of both?” he said with a sheepish smile.

  Hiking up the strap of his messenger bag over his shoulder, Pearce slid his hands into the pockets of his khaki pants. “Dude. Not sure I feel entirely comfortable answering that first part. Mainly because I don’t see her in the same light as you do. I see her and think …” He paused, looking around the parking lot as if to ensure they wouldn’t be overheard before continuing. “I think, holy shit. This woman is one hell of a powerhouse. She’s the same woman who beat the odds, managed to endure Indoctrination for nine weeks, an Indoc that has an eighty percent attrition rate.” Pearce looked off in the distance, shaking his head as if amazed, before meeting his gaze, again.

  “Langley Ford went against all the odds, managed to become strong enough to carry a heavy-assed grown man on her shoulders, managed to carry the same workload as all the other men—if not, in some cases, more.” Pearce’s gaze was intense. “Let me just tell you that running with her was more of an honor than anything else. Because that woman is nothing short of amazing.” Tipping his head to the side, his eyes narrowed. “You do know why she was awarded the Air Force Cross, right?”

  He shook his head. “No.”

  Surprise etched Pearce’s features. “She saved her buddy’s life. Took a bullet for him.” His friend’s lips pressed thin, eyes somber. “His wife had just given birth to their first kid not but a few weeks into to their deployment. Langley pushed him out of the way in the nick of time, and the bullet barely missed her major organs.”

  “Holy shit,” he breathed out.

  “Yeah,” his friend said softly. “She’s a good one, Laws.” He looked at him, small knowing smile upon his face and added, “But, I doubt I have to tell you that.”

  Nope. Pearce didn’t have to tell him that. Because he definitely knew already. Knew that Lee was amazing.

  The trick was getting her to actually believe it, too.

  C

  HAPTER NINETEEN

  The Inapplicable law: Washing your car to make it rain never works.

  Lawson’s take: Unless you go through the drive-through car wash. Trust me on that one.

  ~

  “UH, YOU DO REALIZE THAT I’m not even remotely qualified to be here, right? I know exactly nothing about fashion, let alone wedding dresses.”

  Her anxiety was kicking in as they sat in the plush chairs of the bridal store, waiting for Laney to come out and show them the first dress—the first of what looked like eight total—she was to try on.

  The store was, thankfully, on the quiet and emptier side, with two saleswomen working and only one other bride-to-be aside from Laney. The other woman was a bridezilla, if the way she had whined continuously, “It has to have a train at least three feet long,” were any indication.

  Gag.

  Tate patted her hand, assuring. “Deep, calming breaths, Lee. Deep, calming breaths.”

  “Look at this veil-hat thingy!” They both turned to see Raine modeling the most hilarious thing she’d ever seen on her head. It appeared to be a pseudo hat made of lace and in the shape of Mickey Mouse ears.

  Pulling out her cell phone, Raine aimed it at herself. “I’m totally taking a selfie for Mac. He’s going to die laughing.” She gave an exaggerated smile that bordered on scary, pressing the button to take the photo, fingers subsequently flying over the phone’s keypad.

  Huh, she mused silently, as she peered at the strange wedding hat. Apparently, Disney-themed weddings were actually a thing. Who knew?

  “Quick question. Did you remember to say cheese when you snapped that pic?” Tate quipped before giggling, Raine joining her. Watching them interact and their silly humor made her shake her head with a smile.

  “You’re doing that more now.” Raine’s words caught her off guard.

  “Doing what?” she asked cautiously.

  The petite brunette slid off the silly hat before replacing it on the rack nearby. Raine’s green eyes studied her so intently that it gave her the urge to start fidgeting.

  The other woman’s smile was earnest, kind. “Smile. You do that a lot more now.”

  “It’s true,” Tate affirmed with a nod before giving her a sly grin. “Especially around a certain tall blond guy.” She wiggled her eyebrows. “Speaking of whom, you’ve got to dish. Have you guys done anything yummy, yet?”

  “Wait! Don’t answer that!” Laney’s voice carried from within the dressing room a few feet away. “Wait for me, please.”

  Tate called out, teasingly, “You’re like four feet away. Seriously, Kavanaugh, it’s not all about you.”

  “It actually kind of is, though,” Raine pointed out, amused. “We’re at the bridal store, helping her pick out a dress.”

  Redirecting her gaze to the dressing room, Tate called out, “If you don’t come out within five seconds, I’m going to have her start whispering whatever she has to say about her and Lawson.”

  She and Raine stared at Tate, who merely shrugged and nodded to the door of Laney’s dressing room, which opened abruptly. They watc
hed as their friend stepped out, huffing loudly.

  “Told ya she’d—” Tate broke off suddenly.

  “Oh, holy crap, Laney,” Raine breathed.

  She took in the sight of the other woman in the dress. It was strapless and satiny, with a scattering of what looked like flower petals made of the same fabric in various areas. The bottom of the dress flared slightly, ending at her ankles, hugging Laney’s curvy figure perfectly.

  But when she turned, that’s when they all drew in a breath. Because the back of it had a series of small heart-shaped cutouts down the middle of her spine. As they watched Laney turn back around, eyebrows arched expectantly, waiting for their opinions, she was the first to speak.

  “I don’t know anything about wedding dresses, Laney, but that’s—”

  “The one,” Tate and Raine said with her in unison.

  Laney seemed unsure. “Really? It’s the first one I tried on, though …”

  Tate reached into her purse, pulling out some organic cheese puffs, opening the bag loudly. “If you insist on trying the rest on, I need a snack. But, I’m telling you, now. That. Is. The. Dress.”

  “Agreed,” Raine piped up before turning to Tate. “Babe, you can’t eat in here.”

  Tate scrunched her brows. “But I need food.”

  “Crap. She’s getting hangry.” Raine shook her head before using a placating tone with the tiny blonde. “We can walk next door to the Chick-Fil-A real quick and get you food. That’s super close.”

  “Don’t leave me here,” Laney squeaked. “I’m already semi-dry heaving about this whole deal.”

  She sunk deeper into the plush chair, pinching the bridge of her nose, eyes closing on a silent groan. How did she get roped into this, again?

  Oh, yeah. Something about becoming more feminine and trying to make friends.

  Clearly, she wasn’t cut out for this. She really felt like she was—

  “Feels like you’re in a scene from a reality show sometimes, right?”

  Jerking her head up at the voice, she was met by Laney’s hazel gaze. Noticing the other two women had run off, most likely to get food, she attempted to school her features.

  And promptly failed. It was clear by the laugh Laney let out.

  Hiking up the dress so as to not trip on it, the other woman made her way down the carpeted steps from the dressing room area to take a seat in the chair beside her. Laney glanced around as if to ensure they were relatively alone, and then met her eyes.

  “Look, Lee. And, yeah, I’m calling you Lee because that nickname fits you. Did it fit you a few months ago when we all first met you?” Shaking her head forcefully, she stated, “Not at all. But now? Now, you’re different. A good different. And the fact that I think one of our dearest friends is the reason for these changes is …” She trailed off, as if at a loss for words.

  Inhaling deeply, head tipped to the side, Laney continued. “Laws has always been—and probably always will be—the joker, the one who lightens things up, who helps to remind us to not take ourselves too seriously. When we sometimes forget to embrace life the way we should. So, I get that at face value, he doesn’t seem like he has much depth, but—”

  “He does.” She surprised herself with her forceful interjection. Clearly, she’d also surprised her friend.

  Smiling at her, Laney nodded. “He does. He really does.” Her expression sobered. “He’s been there for all of us without a second thought. Every single time. Always there when we needed him.” She looked away, deep in thought, mouth twisting in a wistful smile. “Even when we didn’t think we needed him.”

  Turning back to face her, the woman’s eyes appeared slightly misty. “He’s a good guy, Lee. One of the best. Someone who would never let you down. The person who would always be there to give up a hand up if you fell.” Hazel eyes met hers with a sudden fierce intensity. “But let me be clear about one thing: if you hurt him, I don’t care how strong you are or what you are physically capable of. We will make it so that no one—no one—finds your body.”

  Hearing Tate and Raine’s voices as they returned to the bridal store, Laney’s intimidating scowl was replaced with a bright smile. “Got it?”

  She stared at the other woman in disbelief, answering slowly. “Got it.”

  “Great!” Standing up, Laney returned to the dressing room as Raine and Tate slid back into their seats.

  Tate was licking her fingers and Raine grunted. “Seriously, Tate. There was enough salt on those fries. You don’t need any more. Stop licking.”

  “Haven’t ever been told that one before,” muttered Tate with a mischievous smile. Raine snorted a laugh before they both turned to her and abruptly stopped. Tate paused in mid-lick of her index finger, and Raine’s eyes kept narrowing on her—to the point where she wondered if they were going to narrow enough that they actually closed.

  Finally, the two women crossed their arms, almost appearing to pout. Tate spoke first.

  “Laney Natalia Kavanaugh! You suck. We were all supposed to threaten her. At once.”

  “Yeah,” Raine added. “You know? It was supposed to be power in numbers. Or something like that.”

  Laney’s voice carried over the top of the dressing room door. “I was the best one for the job anyway, so I did it. I think I did a stellar job if you knew just by looking at her that I’d laid down the law.” The smug tone in their friend’s voice was evident.

  “She mentioned that if you hurt Laws, no one will ever find your body?” Tate asked.

  “Yep.”

  “She wasn’t mean the entire time she talked to you, though, was she?” Raine appeared concerned.

  Tate huffed, shaking her head. “Raine. Seriously? Lee’s probably had to put up with far worse when she was the only woman working with all those men—and likely, most were assholes. Pretty sure Laney didn’t exactly scar her for life.”

  Sitting there quietly, she wasn’t sure what had brought the thought—or question—to mind, but as soon as it had formed, she felt a compelling urge to ask.

  Which was totally unlike her. But, lately, that was par for the course.

  Once the other women fell silent, she voiced her question.

  “What happens if I’m the one who gets hurt?”

  Immediately, the door to the dressing room sounded and Laney emerged, back in her own clothes, walking down to where the three of them sat. Taking a seat in the chair on her other side, Foster’s sister glanced toward Raine and Tate.

  Raine was the one who answered, her emerald gaze locked on hers. Tipping her head to the side, she gave her a tiny smile. “Oh, Lee. Sweetie, the same goes.” Reaching out, she grasped her hand. “You’re one of us now.”

  Tate snorted. “Sounds like she’s just joined The Avengers or something. When, in reality, it’s just us—a hodge podge of weirdos.”

  “And we’d be just as fierce as The Avengers if you happen to be the one getting hurt, Lee,” Laney interjected, directing a sharp look at Tate.

  “Oooh, which one would I be?” Tate appeared deep in thought, ticking off her fingers as she spoke. “There’s Thor, Captain America, Iron Man …”

  Raine’s eyes went wide. “And on that note, it’s time to go. Dress?”

  “Check,” Laney answered, tossing a thumb in the direction of the dressing room she vacated. “I’ll tell the saleswoman I’m buying that. It’s meant to be. That thing fits perfectly.”

  “Zach will be blown away when he sees you in it.”

  The three women turned to her and it took her a moment to realize that she had been the one to say it.

  Holy shit. They were rubbing off on her. It was happening …

  “Awww, Lee,” Tate gushed with a wide smile, “you’re finally growing into your ovaries.” Placing a hand over her heart, she pretended to sniffle. “I’m like a proud parent.”

  Rolling her eyes, she pretended to scratch an itch at the edge of her eyebrow.

  With her middle finger.

  The three women promptl
y collapsed into laughter. And … Oh, what the hell?

  She joined them.

  C

  HAPTER TWENTY

  Langley

  Second Deployment

  Kandahar, Afghanistan

  “Four MAM’s on motorcycles, inbound.”

  “Fuck,” Lucas expelled the cuss word into their comms.

  I silently echoed that sentiment since MAM’s—military aged males—never boded well when it was combined with motorcycles fast approaching the spot our helo had landed, where we were rescuing two Afghan friendlies with serious gunshot wounds.

  “Firing flares,” I heard over our comms. Our trail helo was firing flares to signal for the motorcycles to stop their approach of our helicopter sitting on the ground awaiting patients to take to the nearby hospital. The scariest part was that those motorcycles were well-known to be one of the modes of transportation used by suicide bombers.

  “They’re not backing off,” I heard Joey mutter over our comms. He was our lead pilot.

  Lucas, Brent, and I hurried to get the two wounded men onto the litters—lightweight stretchers for transport—and on board.

  I swear that as we managed to get the wounded on board the helicopter, and gave Joey the signal to take off and get us the hell out of there, my heart had been racing, nearly beating out of my chest.

  Just as our helo lifted off the ground, taking off as I started an IV to prep one patient along with Lucas’ assistance, we heard Joey report, “They stopped. Motherfuckers just stopped as soon as we were in the air.”

  If that didn’t give us all an eerie feeling, like we’d just dodged something huge, I didn’t know what would.

  * * *

  “So …” Doc glanced over at her as they drove south along I-295 to the site where they were to complete a security threat assessment.

  She tossed her coworker a wary glance. “So?”

  He grinned, eyes on the traffic surrounding them. “You and Laws, huh?”

  Blowing out an annoyed breath, she stared out the passenger side window, intent on ignoring the lead-in. She should have known that the former SEAL sniper had the patience of the biblically infamous Job, because after a solid five minutes of them driving in silence, he spoke.

 

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