He set the note from Madison on his keyboard, bumping the enter key and flashing his screen to life. The blinking cursor at the end of his last sentence captured his attention, taunted him. Dared him.
“Maybe this isn’t for me.”
“Comm? It’s a little late to change your MOS now, son. You picked it, you’ve got ten good years in. It’s a perfectly fine—”
“No, Dad. The Marines. Maybe I want to do something else.”
A stunned silence hummed through the phone, and he immediately wanted to take it back.
“There is nothing else. You’re a Marine. Just like me. This is what we do.”
“Dad, I—”
“I know what you’re going through,” his father said, more calm now. “I went through it as well.”
“You did?” That was the first Jeremy had ever heard of it. He would have sworn on a stack of Bibles his dad breathed the military, never wanted to do anything but.
“Sure did. I think most Marines go through this at one time or another. Perfectly natural. Usually came up around deployment time, or around a long exercise. I’d think how nice it might be to just be in one place for the rest of my life. Not move around so much. Have some stability.”
It wasn’t due to a deployment, but it was a start. “Right. It’s not so much the moving around thing. There’s more to it than that. Moving doesn’t bother me. But—”
“But that was all just a mind game. Trick the mind played, only the weak would give in to it.”
“It’s not a trick of the mind, Dad.” He had to see this through. See what he was up against for his own father’s affections. See exactly what level of disownment he’d reach if he actually grabbed the balls enough to pick another track for his life. “It’s something I’ve been thinking about for a long damn time.”
“Well, stop thinking about it.” He sighed. “Son, this is a good life. It’s job security, it’s health care, it’s pulling retirement pay at age forty-three.”
He knew all that. Had been hearing all that since he was eight and told his dad he might want to be a cop or a firefighter or a circus performer.
“Family legacy is important to me. This family’s legacy should be important to you too.” His father’s voice was quiet, almost emotional.
He sighed to himself. “Yes, sir.”
His father cleared his throat. “So get a move on. Now isn’t the time to go soft.”
“Yes, sir.” He stared at the cursor another minute after hanging the phone up. What he’d said to Madison was true. The opportunity to make a living from writing was rare. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t do something else he might enjoy while he tried, did it? Go back to school and get a masters in English. Teach. Or something.
No. He closed out of the document and flicked the screen off. He was a Marine. Just like his father. The man who hadn’t given up on him, even when others might have. He wasn’t about to give that up because of a dream that he’d never realize anyway.
Jeremy sat back in the chair and had the most odd feeling he’d disappointed someone, but he wasn’t sure who yet.
***
Skye stretched her arms up and over her head. “Having a girls’ day was a perfect idea, Madison.”
“We all work such weird schedules. It’s not often all three of us have the entire day off together. Gotta take advantage when we can.” Madison sat back in her own lounge chair, smug as she sipped some of the fruity concoction they’d tossed together in the kitchen with whatever juice they could find and a splash—or three—of vodka. “I think my drink needs an umbrella.”
“They’re wasteful,” Skye replied with a tsk to her voice.
“I think they’re pretty,” Veronica said, sipping her beverage, made virgin at her own request. Then she glanced at Skye and added, “But of course wasteful.”
Skye laughed. “You don’t have to agree with me. I’m not going to toss you off my patio for it.”
“This time,” Madison added in an ominous tone, and cracked up at the look on Veronica’s face.
“Right. Joke. Of course.” Veronica caught on—finally—and stuck her tongue out at both of them, which only sent them all into another peal of laughter.
“How are things at Chez O’Shay-slash-Gibson these days?” Skye asked.
Veronica smiled widely. “Great! My own space is so nice.”
Where in the world had this woman come from that she’d never had her own space before? Madison was dying to know but forced herself to keep to the no-questions-asked policy Skye had insisted on. “I like having a roommate, honestly. Living alone sucked. Too quiet.”
“Dwayne said that after a deployment, the quiet of his own apartment was a welcome change,” Veronica said thoughtfully, taking a sip of her drink.
Skye and Madison exchanged glances.
“You talked to him again?” Skye asked.
“She caught the tail end of my Skype with him before I got called in early. She picked up for me.” When Skye stared at her, she shrugged. “What? I know he’s feeling isolated out there, and she’s going to meet him soon enough when he gets back. Might as well know a little about him now.”
“He’s nice, I think. But a little outlandish at the same time. He calls me Ronnie, even though he knows I don’t like it.” Veronica paused, then reached for a grape, her voice casual when she asked, “What is he like, here in person?”
“You’ve talked to him several times now, it seems.” Skye set her drink down on the deck below her chair. “He’s a teddy bear. Sweet and friendly.”
“Country to the bone,” Madison added dryly. “And almost brilliant when it comes to numbers. But he almost likes it when someone underestimates him because of the accent. He thinks it’s funny, and keeps them off-balance, gives him the upper hand.”
“Hmm.” Veronica settled back in her chair, staring off into the distance. “I didn’t really mind listening to his voice.”
They were all silent for a moment before Skye asked, “So, Madison, are you seeing anyone?”
Madison choked a little on her punch. When Skye raised a brow, she waved it off. “Vodka down the wrong tube.”
“Uh-huh.” Not buying it, clearly, Skye rephrased the question. “You are seeing someone, right? I mean, you’re busy all the time, even when you’re not at work.”
“That’s true,” Veronica—the traitor—put in. “You’ve been gone so much we barely see each other anymore at the apartment.”
Madison took another sip to clear her throat and stall for time. It’d been almost three weeks since she and Jeremy first went at each other like monkeys in isolation. But that really wasn’t up for discussion. Though she trusted Skye to keep things confidential, and Veronica as well, she wasn’t about to put them in the middle of her deception. Keeping something from them was bad enough. Asking her brother’s wife to lie to him—even by omission—was crossing a line she wasn’t comfortable with. “I’m just very… busy. With stuff.”
“Hmm. So you’re free to set up then? I think I met the perfect guy for you.” Skye rotated to her side so she could see them better. “He’s pretty tall, which I know you’re not fond of, being as short as you are. But—”
“I’m not short,” she bit off. “I’m vertically challenged.”
“Whatever you say,” Skye sang.
“Walking pair of stilts,” Madison retorted, which only had Skye laughing again.
“He’s cute though. And funny. He’s—”
“No thanks.” Madison waved a hand in the air to stop her sister-in-law’s matchmaking efforts. “Not really interested.”
“Oh. Pity.” Skye sipped from her straw and rolled onto her back. “I guess Jeremy wouldn’t really like it, anyway.”
“Probably not,” Madison agreed, then shut her eyes in disbelief. Had she se
riously said that?
“Oh my Goddess!” Skye jumped up, heedless of her glass clinking to the deck floor, punch running over the wooden boards and dripping down between the cracks.
“Uh-oh. I’ll go get a towel.” Veronica excused herself quickly into the house through the sliding glass door.
“You are such a little sneak! You and Jeremy are doing the horizontal mambo! You’re burning up the sheets! You’re—”
Madison shushed her. “Quiet! Seriously, Skye, not another word.”
Her sister-in-law’s eyes widened, then her mouth clamped shut. But Madison knew she was dying, so she sighed and sat up, placing her own drink on the low table between her and Veronica’s loungers. She hadn’t planned to tell, but given she’d already figured it out, it might be better to set the record straight rather than let assumptions reign.
“You get the bare minimum. Yes, we are sort of seeing each other. No, it’s not anything serious. No, it’s not up for discussion. And yes, I’m sorry but you have to keep this from Tim.”
Skye’s excitement deflated like a balloon with the stopper pulled out. She sank to the chair, metal and plastic creaking. “Not serious? How is that possible? He’s always serious.”
“Not about this. Neither of us are. It’s just… something fun.” It hurt, admitting that out loud. Mostly because on her end it was a total lie. But Skye didn’t need to know that.
Skye shook her head. “I am absolutely positive that’s not the case for him. I know… something just tells me that he’s holding back.”
He is. He really is. But that wasn’t the point. She stuck one finger in Skye’s direction. “Not a word of this to my brother.”
“You mean my husband?” she asked dryly.
“Him too. I mean it. I shouldn’t have said anything. I can’t believe I let it slip to begin with.” She side-eyed Skye. “Exactly how did you think to ask about Jeremy anyway?”
Skye gave a negligent shrug of her shoulder. “Just a hunch.”
“Bullshit.”
“Complete and total.”
They both smiled, back on more even ground. Then Madison had to ask. “Does Tim suspect anything?”
Skye smirked. “He’s male. Do they ever suspect anything?”
“No,” they both said in unison.
The sliding glass door opened slowly. “Is it safe to come out now?” Veronica asked, towel in hand.
“Yeah.” When she approached, Madison added, “You didn’t have to go running off. I know you can keep a secret. The cat was already out of the bag anyway.” It seemed half of Veronica’s life was a secret. If anyone could keep something under wraps, it was this girl.
“Thanks. But it seemed like something between you two.” She stepped over to hand the towel to Skye, who mopped up the spill. “You might want to run some water through the hose in a little bit so that’s not sticky when it dries.”
Skye sighed. “Probably. Tim’s such a baby about messes. Goddess only knows why he married one.”
They all laughed again, and Madison felt lighter than she had before.
Chapter 16
The end. Holy shit.
Jeremy stared at the computer. Was that it? Could he honestly have finished the entire thing? A whole book, front to back?
He read the final two words again.
Apparently.
Damn, that felt good. He cracked his back on the chair, rotated his neck to relieve some of the stiffness, and stood to stretch his legs. After a quick check to his cell phone, he called Tim.
“Hey, you texted?”
“Girls are all over at the house. I got done with some work stuff early and I’m under strict instructions not to pop the estrogen bubble until after dinner. Wanna shoot?”
Jeremy couldn’t think of a better way to celebrate finishing up his work in progress. “Yeah. I’ll meet you at the range in twenty?”
“Roger.”
Jeremy was there in ten, having the advantage of living closer. He waited for Tim to drive up, then they headed in together. “Where’s your case?” he asked.
“I’m going to rent a .45. Thinking about buying one; wanna see how it feels.”
While Tim went through the process to rent the pistol, Jeremy set up in his assigned lane. They had the place to themselves for the moment. Mid-afternoon lull. As he clipped on the paper target, white with a black center, his mind floated back to the last time he’d been on range. With Madison in the lane next to him. The sight of her, legs spread, shoulders back, pistol steady in her small, delicate hands had him fighting against the fit of his jeans. Damn it. Now, of all times?
“What’d you bring?” Tim asked, walking in.
“Just my nine mil.” He removed the gun from the case, checked the chamber, and ejected the clip, ready to load in the first round of casings. “So the girls are all over at your place, huh?” Did that sound casual enough?
“Skye, Veronica, and the squirt, yeah. I think after dinner they’re going to go see a movie.” Tim ejected his own clip and focused on loading.
He knew most of this already, as Madison had told him via a text she’d be busy all day. Just like a girlfriend would tell her boyfriend. Dammit. “Good day to get out of the house then, huh?”
“Right. I had paperwork anyway, so it was a good excuse to head in to work. But it’s good to get out every so often. God knows I love my wife,” he added, snapping the clip back in his pistol, “but the break is good.”
He couldn’t relate. It was like Madison was a fever in his blood, and he ran hotter, faster, brighter when she was nearby. If he could tuck her in his back pocket and keep her with him all day, he would.
And that was just the most dramatic, corny thing you’ve thought for quite some time. Which is saying something, Phillips. Pull your head out.
“Sort of wish they hadn’t kicked me out though. Haven’t seen Madison in weeks, it feels like. I got so used to seeing her regularly, and now it’s like she’s not around much, even when she’s got time off.” Tim looked up suddenly, gaze sharp. “Hey, you might know. Is she seeing someone?”
Jeremy bobbled the bullet in his hand, the metal rolling off the edge of the ledge and into the lane out of reach. He took a deep breath and tried to morph his face into a look of impassivity. “What?”
“Seeing someone. Dating. Going out, whatever.” Tim loaded another bullet and looked back up. “She’s just gone or busy so much now.”
“Wouldn’t she tell you if she was?”
Tim snorted. “I’m her brother. Knowing her, she’d hide it as long as she could so I wouldn’t have a chance to warn the guy off.”
“Warn him off?” From what?
“She’s a handful.” Tim grinned. “I figure any guy who gets caught by her deserves a fair warning what he’s walking himself into. And who would know better what putting up with Madison is like than her brother?” He shrugged. “But if you don’t know, then I’m back to square one.”
Oh, he knew, all right. But like hell was he about to say anything right now. The man was armed and loaded, for Christ’s sake.
Jeremy looked down and realized he’d only loaded in three of his sixteen bullets, naturally not including the one round he lost into the galley. After fitting his required eyewear and ear protectors on, he put the task in the front of his mind, loading the rest with quick efficiency and snapping his magazine back in and slingshotting back. He checked quickly to make sure Tim had his ear protectors on. Using the white dots at the tip of his barrel to center himself, he waited between breaths and squeezed gently.
The shot rang out, even through the protectors. In the black. He breathed and fired again, again, and again. Sixteen total before he was empty, ejected the magazine, and laid the gun down gently.
“As you go on, you’re pulling down,” Tim said lo
udly behind him. He glanced back to see his friend standing at the bench where they’d set down their bags.
“Did you even shoot?” he asked, removing the ear protectors and letting them hang around his neck.
“Nah. Got a text from Skye so I read it first.”
Married people. Jesus. “You’re here to shoot, Rambo.”
Tim held up both hands in surrender, one still gripping the phone. “Hey, she was just letting me know the four of them were heading to an earlier movie and going out for dinner after, so we’re in the clear if we want to head back to the house to eat by ourselves.”
“We?”
“Told her I was with you.”
“Ah.” Something else clicked in his mind. “Four? I thought it was just Veronica, Skye, and Madison.”
“Looks like Madison’s friend, Matthew, is going to join up with them for the movie.” Tim shrugged and dropped the phone back in his duffle bag. “More power to him. I certainly didn’t want to see that one. Some chick flick I’d fall asleep during. Glad Skye’s crossing it off her list without me.”
Tim walked to his lane and started to settle back up, but Jeremy stayed at the bench.
Matthew. What the fuck? Had she invited him along? Did she think he wouldn’t care?
Did he even have a right to care?
A small part of him whispered… no. He’d made it clear that a relationship—a real one, with being out in the open, making plans for the future, doing things like going to movies together and not sneaking around—wasn’t in the cards. And she’d agreed.
Too fucking bad, a bigger part of him argued. Loudly. She’d made her choice, and she chose him. He wasn’t seeing other women; why would she see another guy?
It’s not exactly a candlelit dinner, the small, reasonable part of him reminded. Just a group of people going to a movie.
In a darkened theater, where nobody could see what other people were up to. Where every dude knows how to make wandering hands effective.
“Dude.”
Officer Breaks the Rules (Semper Fidelis. Always Faithful.) Page 20