And didn’t that say something about how far gone he was, if watching her shoot turned him on? The way he’d acted around her the last time they’d been alone, he was shocked she didn’t use him for target practice.
He forced his mind back to the current clusterfuck of problems… life after the Marines. If there was such a thing. His father would disagree. And at the core of it, Jeremy knew defying his father’s life plan for him just wasn’t going to happen.
Jeremy pushed off the couch and wandered to his computer desk a mere fifteen feet away. That was the beauty of a small apartment… nothing was far out of reach. He sucked in a breath and prayed as he lifted the sleeve of his left arm, then breathed out with relief when he found none of the ink on his arm had smeared beyond recognition. Opening up a new Word document, he typed furiously, doing his best to make out the notes he had scribbled on his arm so quickly at the firing range.
A brand-new villain to add to the mix. A new set of problems for his characters. Challenges to overcome. The core of his book started to reformulate and reassemble in his mind, like gears locking into place and cranking the machine to life.
Finally spent, he sat back and stared at the cursor blinking on the screen. Why the hell couldn’t he do this after he got out? Write. At least part-time.
It’s a pansy-ass excuse for a career.
Jeremy blew out a breath and rolled his chair over to the miniature kitchen area—which the landlord had sworn was a “kitchenette,” though Jeremy was sure that was just to make it sound less like a hole in the wall. He grabbed a bottle of water and shut the fridge door again before he could be reminded there was likely something—or several somethings—in there that should have been tossed out who knows how long ago. Maybe if he gave it another week they’d grow legs and walk themselves out.
If he could just finish the damn manuscript, maybe send it out to a few places, that would give him an idea about whether his efforts were even worth it. Nobody had to know, he rationalized, taking a drink to wash away the dry mouth that took over every time he thought about letting someone read his work.
His eyes swung back to his cell phone, his father’s words still echoing in his ears. Could he actually walk away? Sad that a man in his thirties just couldn’t answer that question for himself. But his father’s respect meant more to him than he could explain.
He had a while yet. If nothing looked promising, he could sign for another three years. It wouldn’t kill him.
What might kill him, though, was keeping his hands off his best friend’s little sister for as long as they were both stationed together.
***
Madison knocked once then pushed the front door open. The knock was just a polite show of respect, now that Tim wasn’t alone in the home. His wife, Skye, didn’t care if she came and went as she pleased. But Veronica was still a little skittish, and Madison tried her best not to scare the poor girl.
“Skye? Veronica?” Madison dropped her bag on the entry table and kicked off her shoes, letting them land next to the pile of Skye’s sandals by the door. “Anyone here?”
Skye’s voice drifted from the living room. “In here!”
Madison turned the corner to see Skye and Veronica with their heads bent over what looked like an old issue of some women’s magazine. “What’s up? Taking one of those ‘Is he hot for you?’ quizzes?”
Skye laughed, and to Madison’s surprise, Veronica smiled as well. The girl was quiet, reserved in a way Madison could never identify with. But slowly, as the second month closed on her visit with her cousin Skye, the girl came out of her shell a little more. Encouraged, Madison sat on the other side of Veronica and peered over her shoulder.
But before she could see what they were looking at, Skye smoothly closed the magazine and slid it to the coffee table. “Just passing time. Tim went into the office for a while after the range, and we both have the day off so we’re doing the girl-time thing.”
Curious, but not willing to pry, Madison let the idea of asking about the magazine go. She shifted back until she was propped against the arm of the couch. “Cool. What’s on the agenda?”
“You have a full day off?” Veronica asked.
“Today and tomorrow. I actually have a weekend off, on a weekend.”
Skye gave a shocked face. “Imagine that!”
Her work hours were the definition of awkward, being a nurse at the naval hospital on base. But she loved the job too much to ever care. Midnight, four in the morning, high noon… if she was at work, it was a good day—most of the time. But still, everyone needed a break.
“How’s the restaurant thing coming along, Veronica?”
The woman ducked her head but forced it back up and gave her a smile. “It’s good. I’m lucky Skye gave me the serving job.”
“No luck at all. You’re a natural. Very detail-oriented, quick, responsible.” Skye smiled reassuringly. “I didn’t give it to you; you earned it.”
There was a story there, Madison mused. She’d known it since the day Veronica was introduced to the group. But as Skye told them all, it wasn’t their place to pry into people’s lives.
She heard the faint rumble of her brother’s engine, the whine of the garage door being lifted, and she smiled.
“I actually came over to see if Veronica wanted to get some lunch with me,” she said, and watched the other woman’s eyes light up. Veronica was good for the ego, that much was for sure. She relished any chance to hang out or be invited somewhere.
“Yes!” She jumped up, then sat back down quickly. “Wait. I mean, Skye and I were going to hang out this afternoon. So maybe—”
She stopped as the door opened and Tim walked in, surveying the trio of females.
“It’s like an Oprah book club in here.”
Madison flipped him the bird. “Oprah this. I was just asking Veronica to lunch with me,” Madison said, then gave her brother an evil glance. “But I could always invite Skye as well…”
“No, no.” Tim dropped his bag and headed to the kitchen. “Thanks a lot anyway, squirt. But you two have fun. I’ll keep Skye company.”
“I’ll just bet you will,” Madison murmured with a smile.
Veronica looked less convinced, glancing between her and Skye. “Are you sure?”
Skye smiled and gave her cousin a friendly shove. “Yes, absolutely. Go! Have fun. Get something sinfully delicious for dessert. Enjoy the day off.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Madison quipped, then bent down to give her sister-in-law a kiss on the cheek before grabbing Veronica’s hand and dragging her toward the front door.
As Veronica climbed in the passenger seat of Madison’s car, she bit her lip. “I hate the thought of leaving Skye behind.”
“Left behind, but not left alone,” Madison said as she backed out of the driveway. “Trust me, Tim will keep her busy.”
“Oh.” Veronica’s eyes widened almost comically. “Oh.”
“Uh-huh.” Enjoying the woman’s naïveté, Madison winked. “We should all be so lucky to score a nooner.”
“Nooner?”
Madison laughed. “We have so much to talk about, you and I.”
Chapter 2
Madison checked the whiteboard for her next patient. Working the ER wasn’t her favorite rotation, but it was never a boring one.
“Here.” Her coworker, Matthew, shoved a clipboard in her stomach. She grabbed on before it could clatter to the ground. “Curtain three. You’ll want this one.”
Madison screwed her eyes shut and held the chart to her chest. “Please tell me it’s not another extraction. The last one almost did me in.”
Matthew snorted. “How that kid got so many dimes up his nose—”
“Among other places.”
“—is beyond me. But no, not an extraction. Road rash. Motorcyclist c
ame in himself.”
“Just walked in? No other injuries? No ambulance?”
Matthew shook his head. “Nope, just the rash. Walked in, no limping. He was the only vehicle involved, no crash. Just says he can’t reach the area to clean it himself, doesn’t want to chance it.” He grimaced. “Despite the lack of injury, he was pretty annoyed, though I think mostly at himself and the guy he had to swerve for. I think your nice, soothing personality might do the trick.”
“Soothing personality, my ass. You just don’t want another patient. Smart guy, though, coming in instead of trying to tough it out.” She grabbed the supplies she’d need and tossed them on a small wheeled cart. She gave a quick coming in warning and backed through the curtain.
“Okay. So, looks like we’ve got a case of road… rash…” She trailed off as she glanced over her shoulder and saw a pissed off Jeremy slouched in the chair next to the exam table. He was in cammies still, his black helmet sitting on the exam table.
“Hey.” He nodded as if she were just sliding into the booth across from him in a restaurant.
“Jeremy.” She looked at the chart in her hand to double-check. Sure enough, Jeremy Phillips.
I have got to start reading the names on the charts before introducing myself to patients.
Smoothing her flyaway hair back behind her ear, she smiled. “Hi. Are you my rash?”
He cocked an eyebrow.
Shit. She just called him a freaking rash. “I mean road rash. Are you… do you…” She turned around and gripped the cart, breathing in and out before facing him again. And in a calm voice, she managed to say, “It says here you laid down your bike, took some skin off.” Wow, that sounded almost intelligent, Madison. Nice work.
The corner of his mouth twitched, but he managed to hold it together. “Yeah. Some jackass pulled out in front of me and I didn’t have enough time to slow down. Went sliding.” He patted one hand on his helmet. “Glad my bike’s still in running shape. Though it’s gonna need a little TLC after that.”
His bike? His freaking bike? That’s what he was so worried about? Her heart nearly stopped at the image of Jeremy and his motorcycle sliding across asphalt, her throat closing at the thought of him not skidding to a halt in time…
“Hey.” Jeremy was up and grabbing her elbow. “You just went white as a sheet. Sit down.” With a hand that left no chance to argue, he pushed her down into the chair he’d vacated. Then, squatting down on his haunches, he grimaced a little, then grabbed her hand and chafed.
“I feel like my nurse needs a nurse. What’s up? Low blood sugar?”
She shook her head, not trusting her voice quite yet.
“Do I need to call someone?” His soulful brown eyes were trying to read her. She felt it as clearly as if he turned the page of a book. Only the pages were in her heart.
“No,” she managed to get out. “I’m fine. Just been a long shift.” Injecting some much-needed steel into her backbone, she stood up, Jeremy standing alongside her with another grimace. “Are you sore?”
“A little. I’ll feel it tomorrow for sure.”
“Take the day off from work; use heat on the sore areas. And don’t lie around. Walk, as long as it’s just sore and not painful. Keep the muscles limber.” She went back to her cart and started organizing her supplies. “Were you wearing your leather jacket?”
“Yup.”
“Good. That probably saved you the worst of it.” She motioned to his blouse before turning around to start setting up her supplies. “Go ahead and expose the area so I can get a good look at it.”
As she opened some gauze packets, she heard the rustle of clothing from behind.
“I had lunch with Veronica the other day,” she said, mostly to fill the silence without turning around. Silence always freaked her out just a little, though she had no clue why.
“She’s an odd one.”
“That’s not very nice,” she chided gently. “New place, new people, naturally shy personality. Just give her some more time to get used to things before you make judgments, please?”
A pause, then he gave a gruff, “Yeah. You’re right. Sorry.”
She tugged at her ear. “I might need to see the hearing specialist. I thought I just heard you apologize, but that can’t be right.”
“Can it.”
She held up a syringe packet over her shoulder. “Be nice, or I’ll give you a shot just because I can.” Turning, she braced herself to fight her body’s reaction to his bare torso, wondering how bad the abrasions were. Did they cover his back? Arms? Chest?
Instead, she saw his olive green undershirt was still on, the short sleeves tight against his biceps. But his pants… that was another story.
Letting her eyes roam down from his still-covered torso to his shredded red plaid boxers, she couldn’t stop looking at his muscular thighs, dusted with dark hair and flexed, she assumed, against the pain. Now those were thighs she wouldn’t mind straddling. Then she drifted down to his cammie bottoms, now pooled down around his boots, and let her eyes roam back up again to his face. He gave her a wry smile and a shrug.
Oh, Jesus.
“It had to be your ass, didn’t it?”
***
Jeremy bit back a laugh when Madison gasped and covered her mouth with one hand, as if she couldn’t believe that flew out of her mouth.
He could easily believe it, though. Madison was always one to say something first, think about it later. Her bold honesty caught him off guard sometimes, but he liked that about her. She said what she meant and didn’t try to hide it behind polite, worthless conversation.
He did his best to make light of it so she didn’t freak out and leave him with another nurse he didn’t know. “Sorry. I know it’s a pain in the ass…”
She groaned, then her lips quirked in a reluctant smile, just like he planned.
Jeremy shrugged. “If I could reach it myself, I would have just gone home. But—”
“Thank God you didn’t. There’s no way you could have cleaned this yourself.” All business now, Madison finished arranging the tools of her trade on the little silver cart she’d wheeled in. Then turning a professional eye to the many places his boxers were torn, she glanced at the table before shaking her head. “It’ll be easier if you stand, I think. But if you get lightheaded, let me know and we can change things up.”
“Lightheaded? From a scratch?” Did she have to make it sound so pathetic?
“It’s not a scratch, it’s road rash. And it’s not going to be fun when I’m cleaning the dirt and grit out of there. God only knows what’s stuck in your skin right now.”
“Thanks, Nurse Ratchet. Could you try not to sound so happy about the idea?”
She grinned then cracked her knuckles, covered with purple latex gloves. “This might be fun, actually.”
He bit back a groan. Talk about payback. He knew she was pissed about his decision to keep their friendship where it was. Not to act on the attraction they each felt. But he couldn’t go there. It wasn’t right. And if that pissed her off… it couldn’t be helped.
Only now she had the perfect revenge in the palm of her hand. Did he actually want Madison scrubbing dirt from his abrasion?
Thoughts of some random male corpsman getting anywhere near his ass with a syringe made him shudder in horror.
Okay, yeah. Lesser of two evils here.
She squatted down on her haunches, using feather-light touches with her fingertips to scoot the fabric of his boxers—thank God he was wearing them today, rather than the more embarrassing option of a pair of old briefs—over to inspect the area. From his hip down the side of his thigh to his knee was a raw mess. His right shoulder and arm had been protected by the thick leather of his jacket. But his uniform pants had provided very little protection from the road. Which just taught him
a fantastic lesson about remembering to change back into his jeans before heading home.
“I hate to say it,” she said in a voice that told him she was anything but remorseful, “but you’ll have to take these off. It’s likely there are some fabric bits in there I need to get to. And they’re in my way.”
He sighed, then glared down at her when she made a squeak that sounded mysteriously like she swallowed a laugh. “This really isn’t funny, you know.”
“Actually…” She snorted. “It’s pretty damn hilarious.”
Rather than argue over the merits of how amusing his situation was, he simply hooked his thumbs in his boxers and pushed them down, hissing a little as some fabric peeled away from the injury.
And then she wasn’t laughing anymore. Belatedly, he realized that he’d just bared his ass, literally, to the one woman who he never meant to get naked with. The same woman he dreamed about rolling around in bed with for days. Hell of a conundrum there. The fact that there was a constant hum of activity right outside their curtain did nothing to alleviate the intense intimacy of the moment. Almost as if they were cocooned inside their own little box, and nobody was going to intrude.
And she was on her knees, eye level with his barely covered junk. For the love of Christ.
He kept his back rigid and put his hands at his sides. If there was a God, He would prevent her from noticing he was fighting an erection.
“Just hurry up,” he growled, hating how sharp his tone had to be. But now wasn’t the time to fuck around.
Fuck around. Bad choice of words. Impossible-to-erase mental image.
Madison, scooting herself around. Lifting his shirt up. Wrapping small, delicate hands around his cock while she smiled that mysterious, I’m thinking of a delicious secret smile of hers just before she—
“Holy Jesus!” He jerked forward and out of her reach, his delicious daydream plowed to smithereens by the burning, scraping sensation over the sensitive, raw flesh. “God, Mad. What the fuck?”
She just smiled serenely—which was not nearly as hot as her delicious secret smile—and held up a pad of gauze. “I’m trying to clean the area. And the more I think about it, this would be easier if you get up on the table. It’s not as easy to reach as I thought it would be.”
Officer Breaks the Rules (Semper Fidelis. Always Faithful.) Page 2