The OUT OF LINE Series

by Jen McLaughlin

  Maybe I was full of shit. Or…maybe it was bad news.

  The sun came through the curtains, and I opened my eyes again, sighing. When I had woken up earlier, my first conscious thought had been: Please don’t let this all be a dream again. Please don’t make me wake up alone.

  But then I’d breathed in her familiar scent that instantly calmed my racing heart, and I had relaxed again. It hadn’t been a dream. Thank fucking God. The real world was just as happy as my dreams—which made sense since she starred in both anyway. The woman I loved had forgiven me for secretly working for her father and all was right in the world. Her bright blue eyes were shut tight, her long red hair lay splayed all across her white pillow, and her soft lips seemed to be begging to be kissed.

  Her ginger eyelashes were swept low, shadowing her pale cheeks. If someone would have told me last week that Carrie would be back in my bed, in my arms, and in love with me, I would have laughed and asked them what the fuck they were smoking.

  Yet here she was. This was real.

  And she was late for class.

  “Ginger…?”

  I kissed her lips, savoring the unique flavor that was my Carrie. I made sure not to press too close to her, though, and give her the wrong idea. Or maybe it was myself I was trying to remind. But either way, there wasn’t any time for a quick morning fuck.

  I pulled back, and her lids fluttered open, showing me those baby blues I loved so much. “Hey,” she said, her voice soft with sleep.

  “It’s time to wake up.”

  She smiled up at me, stretching like a cat. “Why are you all the way over there?”

  I trailed my finger down the little strip of skin on her stomach, right above her green panties. Would I ever get sick of seeing little pieces of her skin bared for me and only me? “Because you’re—”

  Without warning, she snaked her arms around my neck, hauling me closer until I lay on top of her. So much for keeping my distance. Her hands played with the back of my hair. I loved it when she did that, and I had a feeling she knew it. She could ask me to walk along hot coals for her, and as long as she was playing with my hair like that, I’d do it happily.

  Without hesitation, she kissed me, her tongue slipping inside my mouth and entwining with mine. Damn it, I loved it when she took the initiative, but I had to stop this before it went too far. I pulled back and unwound her arms from my neck. Then I scooted out of her reach. “You’re late for class.”

  She sat upright, blinking rapidly. “I am?”

  “Yep.” I rolled out of bed, and away from the woman who held my heart in her hands. “You get in the shower, and I’ll make you breakfast to go.”

  “Thank you,” she called over her shoulder, bolting toward the bathroom in her tank top and satin underwear. I had to pause to appreciate the back view, but then I hightailed it into the kitchen to make her an egg sandwich.

  I passed my phone as I went, snatching it up, and quickly called her a cab before setting it down on the counter. As I made her breakfast, I eyed the fucking thing as if it was going to jump up and bite me in the ass. Sometimes, I felt like it could. It had been the root of all bad things that happened to me lately.

  First it had shown Carrie I was a liar. Then the call last night…

  Nothing was definite yet. Nothing at all. But when you got a mysterious phone call from your commanding officer on a Sunday night…well, you could put two and two together pretty easily. In this fucked-up world, someone was always a finger push away from starting a war with someone. And who were the first ones sent in?

  Marines. Always the Marines.

  But some small, stupid part of me couldn’t help but hope the call was nothing more than a red herring. God had a twisted sense of humor like that, didn’t He? It seemed like something He would do. Give me the sun and the moon, and then pretend like he was going to snatch away the sun. Then, at the last second, he’d laugh and be all, “Ha! I got you, didn’t I?”

  I shook my head at myself. Was I seriously having a fake fucking conversation with God in my head? I was losing it. Losing my mind. I needed to look at this rationally.

  Maybe the military thought there would be another attack in Egypt or something and were readying troops just in case. There were a hell of a lot of just in case situations in the military. It didn’t have to mean something.

  The possible threat could fail to come to fruition. Then I’d get to stay with Carrie.

  It’s not that I was scared to go fight for my country. I wasn’t. But I was scared of how Carrie would handle the news of me going. That’s not to say I didn’t think she was strong enough to handle it, because she was. She just worried about me.

  I flipped the egg and popped some bread into the toaster. As I waited, I eyed my phone and replayed the message in my head. Screw this. I needed to hear it again. I picked it up and hit play.

  “Sergeant Coram, this is C.O. Gunnerson. Report for duty at Pendleton Saturday morning at oh-eight-hundred, and be advised there will be news regarding a possible deployment for you in the near future.”

  The commanding officer’s gravelly voice rang in my head, making me want to throw the phone across the room. But, instead, I slammed it down on the countertop, my heart thumping loudly. Yeah. That didn’t sound good at all.

  I shouldn’t be surprised. This was a pattern in my life. The second things started to look up for me, shit always blew up in my face. Like the time I’d gotten the job of my dreams, only to learn it would require me to travel out of the country for ten months of the year. Or the time I’d gotten my Harley, and then an asshole in a pickup truck smashed it into pieces.

  This certainly wasn’t the first time I’d gone through this type of thing, and it wouldn’t be the last.

  The toast popped and I set it down on the Saran Wrap. After putting the rest of her sandwich together, I poured her a to-go mug of coffee and waited at the door. She came charging out of the bathroom with jeans and my t-shirt on; her hair in a sloppy ponytail. Hot damn, I didn’t want to let her walk out the door.

  But I knew I had to.

  She grabbed her bag, slung it over her shoulder, and came my way. “You giving me a ride?”

  I raised a brow. “Can you eat and drink coffee on a bike?”

  “No.”

  “Then no.” I kissed her quickly, not wanting to hold her up even more, and handed her the coffee. Her fingers brushed against mine, and I wanted to capture them and hold them close to my chest. Right above my heart. “I called you a cab, and it’s out there waiting for you.”

  She grinned at me, her warm eyes shining up at me. “Thanks, love.”

  “Love?” I scratched my head. “That’s new.”

  She shrugged and took the sandwich from me. “I’m trying it on for size. You have so many nicknames for me, it’s only fair I think of one for you.”

  “Hm.” I patted her on the ass, the universal signal to get going. “Well, Ginger, I’ll pick you up after class. Five, right?”

  “Yes.” Her cheeks flushed, and her gaze dipped to my mouth. “I have to study afterward with a friend, so make it six?”

  “Which friend?”

  “A new one you don’t know.” She kissed me. “A girl. She’s majoring in biology, too, with the end goal of occupational therapy. Just like me.”

  “Ah. I suppose I’ll share then.” I slapped her ass gently. “Off you go.”

  Her eyes darkened. “Do I have to go?”

  “You know you do. If your grades fail, then I do, too.”

  She huffed. “I had to go and fall for the guy whose job it is to make sure I don’t fail, didn’t I?”

  “Don’t look so sad. If you hurry up and get to class—and behave yourself all day—maybe I’ll help you study again.”

  She perked up at that. “Deal.”

  I pulled her in for one last kiss. “I love you, Ginger.”

  “I love you, too.”

  I watched her climb down the stairs and make her way toward the yellow taxi. S
he took a sip of her coffee and slid into the cab, her eyes on me as she pulled away. Once she was out of sight, I sighed and went back inside. As I made myself a sandwich and brewed another cup of coffee, I picked up my phone and unlocked it.

  Two texts already.

  Ever since I got sent here to guard her—babysit her, more like—I’d been on a daily text routine with her fucking father. He was like a needy teenager in some ways. If I didn’t immediately text him first thing in the morning, I got at least three texts before I could finish my coffee. The funny thing was she didn’t even need watching.

  Well, maybe she did a little bit.

  Only because she’d gone and fallen in love with me, despite my initial lies about my real identity and the fact I was her father’s lackey sent to spy on her. But no one was going to take her from me—not even her dad. I needed her too badly.

  She reported to class on time.

  Barely thirty seconds passed before the phone buzzed again. Good. Check on her after and make sure you actually text me back.

  I snorted. Will do, sir.

  After I sent the text, I spun the phone in my hand, debating my next move. Maybe I should call Dad and see what he thought was up. He’d been in the military long enough to get how things ran. I could practically hear his voice now. He’d say something along the lines of, “Griffin, you know what this is as well as I do. You’re going to war, son.”

  Maybe I would check in with one of my squad members. See if they knew something I didn’t. After flipping my egg in the nick of time, I dialed my buddy Hernandez.

  “Hello?” Hernandez said, his voice rough.

  “Hey. It’s Coram.”

  Hernandez set something down. Maybe his coffee mug? “What’s up, man?”

  “Did you get a call last night?”

  “From who?”

  I leaned against the counter. “Our C.O.?”

  “Um, no.” Hernandez cleared his throat. “Should I have? What’s going on?”

  “Shit, I don’t know. I thought…” I rubbed my forehead, but it did nothing to take away the ache between my eyes. “Fuck me.”

  “No thanks,” Hernandez said. “You’re not my type.”

  I snorted. “The hell I’m not.”

  “Yeah…no. I prefer blondes. But why would he call you and not me?”

  I shook my head. “I got a call from him that I have to show up this weekend. But if I’m the only one, what the fuck does that mean?”

  “I don’t know.” I heard a door shut. “I hung out with Smith last night, and he didn’t mention it either. So I don’t know, man.”

  So two people hadn’t gotten the call, but I had? What the fuck did that mean? It didn’t make any sense. “All right. Thanks, man.”

  “Do you think they—?” A muffled knock sounded through the phone. “Shit. I gotta go, Coram. I’ll call you later.”

  “Yeah. Sure.”

  I hung up the phone and set it down, my head hurting even more now. So I wasn’t being deployed with my unit, but I might be deploying soon?

  None of this made any sense, damn it.

  Later that day, I shoved all my school crap into my brown messenger bag. I’d just finished my study session with my partner from chemistry, and still had a crapload of homework to do, but that was hardly a surprise. Going to school to become an occupational therapist was not an easy thing.

  With it came tons of homework and labs and studying. I’d known it was what I wanted to do since I’d entered high school, and I hadn’t wavered from it at all. I loved helping people, so it seemed like a good fit for me to pick a career where I was, well, helping people. Hands down.

  But now I was finding that juggling a love life and school and lying to Dad about it was a bit hard to keep up with. Not that I was complaining or anything. It was a lot to handle sometimes. Tonight before I left, I needed to drop off a few articles of clothing in the main room so people could take what they wanted, then I also had to grab a change of clothes for me.

  I had a feeling I would be spending the night at Finn’s house again, and that was A-okay with me, thank you very much. Heck, if I had it my way, I’d never leave his side again except for school. Even that was a challenge, to be honest.

  I knew I had to focus on studies, and so I did. There wasn’t a question of me slacking in that area. I had goals and dreams, and they didn’t include flunking out of college. But it was better when Finn was with me. I even slept better with him beside me. I needed him there, being all hot, smart-assy, annoying, and irresistible all at once.

  You know. Being Finn.

  When I’d found out he was my father’s spy after falling in love with him, I never would’ve thought we could move on from that. Never thought I could move on from that. But when it came to a life without Finn, well, I didn’t want to live that life.

  I’d tried it. It sucked. I wasn’t going back.

  I heard someone come up behind me in the library and I gazed over my shoulder. One of the last people I wanted to talk to right now stood there, looking ashamed of himself.

  Good. He should be.

  “Hey, Carrie.”

  He scratched his head, barely managing to muss up his blond hair, and gave me a sheepish smile. His gold Rolex—which almost made me laugh, since Finn called him Golden Boy—glinted in the light, so at contrast with Finn’s G-Shock watch he sometimes wore that it made me wonder what the hell I’d ever thought Cory could give me out of life. He was my politician father about thirty years ago.

  I had no idea why there’d even been a hint of interest in my mind for this man when Finn was within a five hundred-mile radius of me. Cory was everything my father would want for me, and everything I did not.

  I tensed. “Hi.”

  “Uh…” Cory cleared his throat. “Can we talk about the other night? I saw you over here studying earlier, but didn’t want to interrupt.”

  I was trying to forget all about that ugly scene outside of the frat party where he said those awful things to Finn about him being nothing more than trailer park trash. Really freaking hard. It was kind of difficult to be the bigger person when I wanted to punch him for being so darn condescending to the man I loved.

  No one insulted Finn and got away with it. Call me overprotective, and maybe I was more like Dad than I cared to admit, but I wanted to claw out Cory’s eyes.

  I blew my hair out of my face and shoved my last book into my bag. It barely fit. “I don’t really think there’s anything to say.”

  “Look,” Cory said quietly, his eyes lowered, “I’m sorry that I—”

  “How’s your stomach, by the way?”

  Cory flushed and shifted on his feet. “It’s fine. I don’t even really remember what happened that night. I was pretty drunk.”

  “Yeah, I kind of noticed.” I headed down the stairs to the classroom’s exit, and he walked with me. “You said some pretty nasty things, you know.”

  He stopped walking. “To you?”

  “To Finn.” I looked at him out of the corner of my eye.

  He totally relaxed when I told him it wasn’t me he hurt. The jerk.

  Cory rubbed the back of his neck. For his part, he did at least look slightly ashamed of what he’d done. “I really don’t recall. I just remember waking up with a sore stomach and a copy of the police report I apparently filed. I feel horrible about the whole thing. You have to believe me.”

  “I’m sure you do,” I said, gripping the shoulder strap of my bag even tighter. My anger faded away a little bit, but not all the way. “He’ll be outside waiting for me, so you can apologize to him if you want.”

  He flushed and stumbled on a step. “Are you two…you know, back together?”

  “Yeah, we are.” I pressed my lips together, feeling as if I needed to explain myself or something. “I know you thought we were—”

  He laughed uneasily, but his red cheeks gave away his discomfiture on the topic. “I didn’t think anything. Really. It’s fine. I hope you’re happy with hi
m. That’s all that matters.”

  “No speeches about how it’ll fail this time?”

  He lifted a shoulder and averted his eyes. “I think I said enough on this topic already, don’t you?”

  “I guess you did, yeah.”

  He opened the door for me and motioned me through. Today he seemed different. I lifted my head, squinting through the bright sun for any signs of Finn. And then I saw him.

  He leaned against a huge palm tree, his bike parked behind him. He wore a pair of ripped blue jeans and a green T-shirt with a stick figure missing his back on the front. The other figure held it in his hand and smiled. It was funny and stupid and so Finn.

  His tattoos flexed on his muscular arms, making me want to trace each one with my tongue, and I took a big step toward him.

  Would that urge, that need for him, ever go away?

  God, I hoped not.

  I knew the exact moment he noticed me. His eyes warmed, and he ran his left hand over his short brown curls. His mouth tipped into a bright smile…that is, until his gaze skidded to the side and he noticed who was with me.

  Then he looked less sunny and more dangerous. Go figure.

  He tugged on his curls and he pushed off the tree, stalking toward me. As he crossed the grass, Cory stiffened beside me. “Is he going to hit me again?” he whispered.

  “No, he wouldn’t do that.” I hesitated, watching the storm gather in Finn’s blue eyes, making them look almost gray. “I wouldn’t say anything cocky, though, if I were you.”

  “God, no,” Cory said, straightening to his full height. “I’m not an idiot.”

  That might be debatable, but I kept my mouth shut. He’d said he was sorry.

  Finn reached us in record time, and he held his hand out for my bag. I gave it to him without a fight. As he slipped it over his own shoulder, he shot Cory a foul look.

  “What the hell is Cody doing here?” Finn snapped, his entire body throwing off anger in heat waves.