Veronica stared after her for a moment, then blinked. “That was fast.”
“That was Madison.”
“Right.” She gripped the back of the chair Madison had just vacated. “Do you want me to let you go? I’m sure you would love to rest or something. I won’t hold you to it.” Please say yes. Please say no.
Why was she so conflicted? She hardly knew the man. No, she didn’t know the man at all. A few conversations via Skype did not make her acquainted. She’d never even shaken his hand.
“I could always use a touch of home. Could you sit? I can’t see your face where you’re standing. Right now all I’ve got is a great shot of your, uh… shirt,” he finished dully, then coughed. Even through the computer screen, she could see his face flush a little.
She looked down at her work shirt, all black, and wasn’t entirely sure what was so embarrassing about it, but she sat down anyway. And immediately wanted to groan in satisfaction. “Oh, that feels good.”
“Long day at work, you said?”
“Very. But satisfying. Of course, not as important a day as you probably had,” she added quickly.
“A satisfying day is always important, no matter who gets it,” he replied easily, stretching back with a yawn, his arms reaching up overhead. His olive shirt raised up just a little to expose his stomach, flat and tan, with a thin line of hair running down into the waistband of his shorts. Veronica’s cheeks flushed, and she felt a little flutter in her own belly. Why did she constantly feel something strange when she spoke to this man?
“Are you safe out there?”
He shrugged. “Safe as you can get on a deployment, I’d say. I’m rarely even outside the wire. Outside the perimeter of camp,” he clarified. “Not much sinister action going on in here.”
“But that’s good. I want you to be safe!” she blurted out.
He smiled. “Do you?”
“Well, yes. Of course.” She looked away, his intense gaze making her uncomfortable. “I want everyone to be safe.”
“Ah. Naturally.” He settled back in his chair, the squeak of the metal heard even through the speakers. “So how are you getting along with Madison? She a good roommate?”
“She’s great.” Veronica relaxed, glad to be back on more even ground. “I couldn’t ask for a better roommate. Though she’s not even here most of the time, it seems. Our schedules are so conflicting. But the place is nice. And I like having my own space.”
“Right. So many Marines room together to save up on cash, and I can see the appeal of that. But when I’m home, I want my own area. I don’t want to trip over three other guys to get my cereal in the morning.”
She grinned at the mental image of a room full of Marines all in sleeping bags, like a slumber party. “Sort of like how you’re living right now?”
He chuckled. “Luckily, with this deployment I have my own box.” He stood and all she got was the image of his torso again. Then she heard a metallic ping and he sat down again. “Hear that?” When she nodded, he said, “That’s my aluminum box. My own little dorm room. Just a little slice of privacy out here.”
He tilted his head. “So when you’re not at work or enjoying your own space, what are you doing?”
“Oh, reading. Hanging out with Madison or Skye and Tim. Or learning about the city, since I’m still so new.” Understatement of the century, as Madison would say. She fiddled with the edge of her bag sitting on the floor by her chair.
“No guy?”
“Hmm? Guy? There’s Tim. And Jeremy sometimes, when we all hang out together.”
“No, I mean, no boyfriend?”
“Oh.” There was that low buzz in her belly again. “Uh, no. No… boyfriend.” That was on her list as well, just not quite yet.
He frowned. “Hard to believe a girl who looks like you, sweet as you are, doesn’t have a guy waiting in the wings.” Then his frown shifted, morphed into a slow smile that put her a little on edge. “Can’t say I’m upset by hearing that, though.”
Something gave her the instinct to run, and she gave in to it. “I think I need to go now.”
“Now?” He checked his watch. “You just sat down.”
“I know, I’m sorry. I just… I have so much to do today. I’m sorry.” Before he could respond, she clicked the disconnect button, then felt like the worst sort of person. Who hung up on a deployed Marine because they asked a simple question?
She still had so far to go. And eventually she would need to make amends to Dwayne for her poor behavior. But not right now. Not while her hands were still shaking, just a little.
Chapter 15
Jeremy was five kinds of fool. No, ten. Infinite. There were no words to describe what a moron he was. But somehow, despite this rousing pep talk he repeated on loop, he ended up parked in Madison’s parking lot anyway, calling her cell phone.
“Hello?”
“Wanna go for a ride?”
She laughed. “Is this like you asking me to come over to your place for a nap?”
“No.” But he smiled at the memory. Napping… good. “I’m asking if you wanna go for a ride. As in on the bike.”
“Oh! Sure. What’s your ETA? How long do I have to change?”
“I’m downstairs.”
“So negative five minutes. Check.” She hung up without saying good-bye. He pocketed the cell and watched the parking lot. What he was looking for, he had no clue. But he scanned anyway, routinely. Just another thing he hated about this whole affair. The secrecy made him as jumpy as any deployment. He left his always-aware mentality back in the sandbox… but it seemed as though this whole thing was reviving it. Exhausting was the only way to put that.
“Hey.”
He jerked a little, steadying the bike between his legs. And taking a full look at the woman standing before him.
Black leather molded to her legs without a whisper between the material and her skin. A tight tank top skimmed over her breasts, barely covering her abdomen where the band of her pants stopped. And a leather jacket dangled from one arm, paused in the act of slipping it on.
“What?”
He shook his head. “Where’d this outfit come from?”
“Oh.” She slipped the jacket on the other arm and shrugged her shoulders to settle it. “After our last ride, I just realized I might want to look more the part. Plus I know leather protects better in the case of a spill.”
“True.” But what she wasn’t saying was that she’d assumed there would be more rides. Though he was here, so could he really fault her for it? “So how about a Saturday spin?”
“I can’t think of a better way to spend my day off. Now, where’s that ugly ass helmet?”
Uh, yeah. The other reason he knew he was a total goner. Reaching back, he retrieved the helmet.
And almost went deaf at her squeals.
“It’s pink!” She grabbed the helmet from his hands and clutched it to her chest.
Point of fact, it wasn’t actually pink, at least not completely. It was still mostly black. But he’d had the same bolt pattern painted on hers, only in a light pink color rather than his own silver.
“You bought me a pink helmet?”
“Yeah, well, you said the other one was ugly.” She stared at him, eyes wide. He swiped one hand through the air. “Don’t do that.”
“Don’t do what?”
“Don’t look into it. Don’t do that female analysis thing, okay? It’s just a helmet.”
“Okay,” she said, nodding gravely. But he could see the sparkle of humor in her eyes. She popped it on and straddled behind him, wrapping her arms tightly around his waist. “Let’s do this.”
He backed up, revved the engine just a little—he was a guy, after all, so sue him—and drove out.
He knew exactly where he was he
ading, had a destination in mind. But she didn’t know that, and he was enjoying the feel of her arms and legs squeezing around him with every turn. So he took the long way to the park where they’d first come.
Even on a Saturday, it was deserted. But there were nicer parks for kids to play at, so he wasn’t surprised. The parking lot was the real draw this time. He slowed to a stop a good fifty yards away from the grass and waited for her to step off and remove her helmet.
“Why are you parking over here?”
He killed the engine and stepped off. “Thought maybe you’d want a turn.”
“A turn for what?”
He motioned with his head to the motorcycle.
Again with the earsplitting shriek. “You’ll let me drive it? Your baby?”
“It’s not my baby,” he grumbled.
“Coulda fooled me.” She ran a hand reverently over the handlebars, and his skin tingled with the reminder of what those fingers felt like over his own body. “So that’s why we’re out here, in the empty lot.”
“Always best to learn somewhere you can’t kill anyone.”
“I’m not that bad a driver.”
“If you were, I wouldn’t let you touch her.”
“Her. See?” Madison gave a smug smile. “Told you this bike was your baby.”
“Hush. You want to learn or not?”
She rolled her lips in as a show of her silence and nodded.
“Okay. So, this is the handlebar.”
Madison groaned. But when he shot her a look, she widened her eyes innocently.
“This,” he said again, patting the part of the bike, “is the handlebar.”
***
“I can’t believe you let me drive her!” Madison jumped down and spun around on the sidewalk in front of Jeremy’s apartment building. “That was fantastic! I think I want one now.”
Jeremy chuckled and shook his head. “Not so fast. You’ve got a long way to go before you’re ready to handle one all on your own.” But then he grinned. “Addicting though, isn’t it?”
“Very!” She hopped up the first few steps toward his second-floor apartment before halting. He brought her back here without asking. Not that she was arguing… but what did that mean? Was he coming to accept their relationship? Or did he just want one more lay for the road?
No, that was too callous, even for Jeremy. Maybe he didn’t even realize that he’d—
“Come on. Up you go.” He gave her a playful slap on the butt and nudged her up the stairs.
Okay, so he realized. No problem for her. He unlocked the door and opened wide for her, taking her jacket and draping it over the arm of the couch.
“Grab a drink or something if you want. I’ll be right back.” He headed down the short hall and into the bathroom.
Madison grabbed a bottle of water—sorry, Skye—and sat down in his computer desk chair, swiveling around. Taking in the bare walls, the mismatched furniture. The complete disregard for anything aesthetically pleasing. It was almost like he tried hard to make the already unimpressive apartment seem worse off. And why?
Her elbow bumped the mouse and the screen, previously in sleep mode, came to life. Another word document. She saw the chapter heading, a new one from the last time, and read on without guilt.
“I’m going to change really fast,” his voice called a moment later as he darted into the bedroom. Clearly he didn’t see her, and lucky for it. Because she wasn’t going to stop reading.
She scrolled, gasped softly, and quickly covered her mouth. No way did she want him busting in and stopping her now. It was good. Fantastic. When the end came two quick pages later, she found herself wondering how pissed he’d be if she searched for the other chapters on his computer. If he’d written more past this. There was no way this cliffhanger was the end.
This had to be his writing. She knew without a doubt. Jeremy’s voice was stamped all over the page. His attitude, his thoughts, mannerisms… It was all him. And it was unbelievably amazing.
“Well?”
She jolted, then turned around, suddenly feeling more guilty for reading than she’d previously felt. “Uh… well what?”
He raised a brow. “Yeah, I’ve been standing here watching you read. Nice try, O’Shay.”
She rolled her eyes. “Can you blame me?” She held one finger in the air. “I’d like to take this moment to point out that I wasn’t snooping on purpose. It opened by accident when I bumped the mouse. I didn’t mean to.” When he said nothing, she burst out, “How the hell can I read that and not want to keep going? Do you know how good you are? Seriously, do you?”
He shrugged but wouldn’t meet her eyes. He stared at the blank wall to the left of the desk, a flush creeping up his neck. “It’s just something I play around with when I’m bored.”
This was more than play. It was finely crafted, honed, edited, sweated over. Loved over. But she didn’t point that out. “Have you considered trying to get published?”
“No.” His voice was firm. “Writing isn’t a career. It’s just something to keep my mind off… other stuff. It’s nothing. I could delete it and not care. I don’t even know why I save it.”
She stared a moment at the man who sounded so lost. “Liar,” she said softly. “You love it, don’t you?”
He said nothing.
Madison glanced around once more at the pathetic surroundings. “Is the reason you’re saying that like the same reason you keep this place like this, when you could do so much better? Do you think you don’t deserve to be happy about something?”
A muscle in Jeremy’s jaw twitched.
“It’s okay to love writing. I couldn’t do it, but I think you really have a way with words. It’s not harming anyone.”
He scoffed at that but turned his face to hers. “It’s not something I talk about. Okay?”
She nodded, knowing to push harder would be cruel. Despite his bluster, Jeremy’s heart was tender and she knew that. “Sure. I won’t say anything—”
“Thanks.”
She held up a hand. “On one condition.”
He watched her warily. “I’m afraid to ask.”
She smiled. “Nothing so sinister as that. I just want to read the rest of it. If you’ll let me. From beginning to end.”
He sighed. “There is no end. For now. But the beginning is all there. If you want to read it sometime, that’s fine.”
Sensing he’d let down a very important, very serious wall, she stood and rewarded him with a hug and a kiss. “Thank you. That means a lot to me.”
He grunted, but his arms came around her to squeeze.
They could do this. Little by little, she’d tackle the other walls he’d built up and she would tear them down. With or without his help.
***
Jeremy reached for the lamp on his nightstand, wondering what woke him up. As his hand contacted cool, empty sheets beside him, he sat up and stared around the bedroom. Where the hell did Madison go?
Then a ringing sound penetrated his sleep-fogged brain. Phone. Yes, where the hell was his phone? He rummaged through the items on his table and found it, flipping it open a second before it would kick to voice mail.
“Phillips.”
“Jeremy. Third time I’ve called today. Where the hell have you been?”
“Dad?” Jeremy sat up, momentarily stunned. He rubbed his eyes and shook his head, wishing he hadn’t answered the phone until he was more awake. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, except my own son doesn’t answer his father’s phone calls.”
Jeremy rolled his eyes and stretched, stepping out of the bed he and Madison had practically wrecked earlier. As he grabbed a pair of jeans from the floor and slid them on, he studied for any left behind clothing of hers. No sign of her in the bedroom.
He stepped into the hallway. Light was off in the bathroom, same in the kitchen and living room. “I didn’t hear the phone ring.”
“It’s been a while since we talked. Not gonna call your old man to catch up?”
“You were just here. I didn’t realize I had to check in with you regularly. I thought I was a grown-up.” His tone was annoyed, bordering on rude, but this wasn’t exactly his finest moment either. Where the hell was she? He searched, but her jacket was gone.
How the hell did she leave? He’d driven her over here, so she didn’t have her car.
“I’m just worried about my son. I’m hoping my visit straightened your head out. Checking in to see if you’ve spoken to your monitor yet. Any clues on where he might send you next?”
“No, I haven’t. And so therefore, no. No clues. You keep asking, and nothing’s changed.” Ah, there. He picked up the piece of paper torn from one of his notebooks, covered in Madison’s short, impatient handwriting.
Grabbed a cab. Needed at the hospital. Didn’t want to wake you. Thanks for the lesson.
She’d signed a big letter M. And at the bottom, under that, so quickly scratched he almost couldn’t read it, she’d added, I’ll miss you.
His heart clenched just a little at the reminder. That their time was limited.
“Jeremy.” His father’s sharp tone cut through the mental wandering. “Are you paying attention?”
“Hmm? Yes, of course, sir. Could you repeat that last bit?” He sank down into the computer chair, staring at the note without really seeing anything.
“I said you needed to get your head out of your ass and into gear. This is your career we’re talking about. Have you even looked into grad school? A master’s is the ticket for promotion here on out, you know that.”
“Not yet, sir.” He turned the paper over in his hands, wishing he’d had a chance to say good-bye. “I’m not sure what I’d want to study. Still thinking about it.”
“Stop thinking, start doing. You’re a Comm guy. Get a degree in something communications related. Hell, get a master’s degree in foozeball; it doesn’t matter. Just don’t waste any more time.”
Officer Breaks the Rules (Semper Fidelis. Always Faithful.) Page 19