“Mmm. Yeah.” Madison didn’t resist as Skye took her hand and led her up the stairs, supervised as she readied for the night, and tucked her into the guest bed.
“Female Tim never would have let me drink,” Madison murmured as she started to drift off.
“I doubt it,” Skye whispered back. Female Tim seemed infinitely smarter than her. She set a trash can by the bed in case, though she doubted Madison would need it. With one last check to make sure she was breathing fine, Skye left her to sleep off the rum and pain.
Skye headed back downstairs to clean up the small mess. Normally, she wouldn’t mind leaving the entire thing until the next day. Especially not when she was so tired. But something about having Tim come home to a ripped up kitchen and living room made her finish the task. Just another thing she needed to start doing regularly.
She debated calling Tim to see how long he would be out with Jeremy and Dwayne but decided against it. Instead, she put on a pair of his old boxer shorts, an older T-shirt, and crawled into bed. With the thoughts swimming through her mind, Skye was positive she’d be awake for hours. But within minutes she was drifting.
***
Hours later, Skye woke to cold hands on her abdomen and a warm body pressing against her back. She looked over her shoulder, eyes adjusting to the silvery moonlight creeping in through the slats in the blinds.
“Hey,” Tim whispered. His lips moved over her jawline, neck, lower. “I wondered if you’d need help cleaning up, but you’re already done.”
Skye checked the clock and saw it was barely midnight. When had she started going to bed so early? “I didn’t want to leave the mess for later.”
Between kisses, Tim murmured, “Madison’s car is outside.”
She gave up on going back to sleep and rolled over onto her back. “She had too much to drink so she’s in the guest bedroom.”
Tim’s head lifted at that, a slight scowl on his face. “Why was she drinking so much?”
The truth wasn’t hers to give, so Skye evaded. “She just got a little carried away. No big deal.”
Tim’s scowl deepened. “That’s not amusing. She should have been more careful.”
Skye sighed inwardly. “She was with someone she trusted and she wasn’t driving. I made her drink an entire glass of water before she went to sleep and put her to bed on her side. I don’t know how much more careful you can get.”
“Drinking to excess really is never smart,” the walking safety pamphlet responded. “People act like idiots when they drink like that.”
Never smart. Act like idiots. The entire reason they were married was because Tim had been too drunk to realize the big step he was making that night in Vegas. And now he wanted to say that it was never a good idea? She shifted once again onto her side, her back toward Tim. Hopefully he would get the hint and drop it before she snarled at him.
“Dwayne wants you to come to the send-off tomorrow,” he whispered in her ear, taking a nip out of the skin beneath her lobe. “If you’re not working, that is. So do I.”
Okay, she couldn’t be silent when he said stuff like that. “Did he have fun tonight?”
“Yup. Simple guys’ night in. He’s ready to get out there. He thrives on deployment.”
Skye could hardly imagine someone who could thrive in a war, but she didn’t say so. Tim continued his slow meander over her neck, her ear, her jaw. When she didn’t respond—with words or action—he spoke again.
“Is something wrong?”
Not according to you, apparently. She sighed and shifted onto her back again, looking in his eyes. His look was sweet, concerned. But all the same, confused. Just like a man. Time to give the guy a break.
Only that I’ve been busy falling for my husband, and I’m pretty sure he’s not falling with me. “Nope. Nothing.” She smiled, determined not to bother him with her own rising insecurities. Neuroticism was never attractive.
Tim looked at her another long moment, then shifted behind to pull her back against his chest. His hand moved idly over her stomach, rubbing slow circles over her top until he came to rest under her breast. Her nipples hardened, despite her annoyance. Damn man and his ability to get her going no matter what.
“I missed you tonight.” His voice was low, husky.
“You had a good reason to go out.” She gave up resisting and nuzzled back against him. His hand pulled her shirt up over her breasts until he thumbed her nipples. They tightened painfully and her breathing quickened.
“Doesn’t mean I didn’t miss you. And this.” Suddenly she was missing one pair of shorts. The man was slick. He pulled her top leg until it lifted up and back, over his own hip. Spreading her wide for his touch. His finger grazed over her warm center and she shivered.
His fingers played her until she was panting. Grazing her clit, never staying long on the spot she wanted him most.
“Relax, baby.” His voice was a whisper over her ear.
She couldn’t relax. Because when she relaxed, she fell harder. And it hurt.
The blunt head of his cock pushed against her wet folds, insistent and demanding until he was completely seated inside her. His grip was hard, almost harsh, moving her hips until she was exactly where he wanted her.
She arched her back to make the most of the tight angle, not giving a rip that he chuckled at her sudden turnabout.
“More.” The embarrassing plea escaped before she could stop it. But he answered with a shallow thrust that made up for any mortification and more. The controlled, narrow space made deep thrusts impossible, but the friction was intense. Soon, too soon, Skye felt that tightening in her belly and reached down for his hand.
Touch me. The request was silent as she guided him to her, but he understood perfectly. And then her body sang as her nerves fizzled and her muscles clenched around him, milking her husband’s own climax until he went completely limp behind her.
“Good,” was all he could mumble into her neck. She chuckled and nodded.
His hand came up to rub between her breasts. The touch was soothing rather than sexual, and soon enough Skye heard his breathing change to the low, deep rhythm that said he was asleep.
Though she had been dead asleep not long ago, Skye spent the next few hours battling back the thoughts that worked their way through her mind.
***
“Are you positive Dwayne wanted us here to say good-bye?” Skye couldn’t shake the feeling that somehow she was in the way. Didn’t belong there.
“Yes. Wait here for a few minutes while I go help them load bags up.” He gave her waist a quick squeeze then jogged over to the two charter buses. Somehow, even compared to the multitude of Marines in their cammies, he looked intimidating. Important. Alpha in his simple polo shirt and khakis.
With nothing to do—and not wanting to wander around and get in the way—Skye took in her surroundings instead. There were crying women everywhere. Little children clung to cameo-clad legs. Hugs. Whispers. Promises. Kisses.
She felt almost like an intruder on dozens of intimate marital moments while she watched the Marines of D’s company say their good-byes. But she had nowhere else to look. Though nobody seemed to mind her presence anyway, as wrapped up in their own embraces as they were.
She looked for Tim and still found him busy loading bags into the cargo hold of the buses on some makeshift assembly line. Nothing to do but continue being a fly on the wall.
The vast difference in emotions was the most interesting. A few wives looked almost bored, as if saying good-bye was just routine. No big deal. Maybe to them it was. Depressing thought. Others wept, uncaring who witnessed their sorrow. The ones who cracked Skye’s heart were the women who refused to show weakness, no matter how it hurt. They stiffened their spines, rolled back their shoulders, and said their good-byes with dry eyes. But as those women turned away fr
om the buses, she could see their lips tremble, their hands shake, their eyes blink away tears.
To Skye’s surprise, one man said his farewell to his wife before she boarded. Just a small reminder that the military wasn’t as cookie-cutter as she’d previously thought.
“I’m pleased to see you supporting our deploying Marines.”
Skye gasped and turned, startled by the voice. “Mrs. Blackwater. You scared me.” In more ways than one. She rubbed a hand over her galloping heart.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart.” Mrs. Blackwater gave her a small, almost sad smile as she turned back to watch the boarding. “Heartbreaking to watch, isn’t it? No matter how many times you go through it yourself, or see others go through it… never gets easier.” She heaved a small sigh, as if remembering a distant memory. Probably the last time she’d had to watch her own husband leave.
Skye nodded. Interesting. She didn’t expect such compassion from the older woman. Perhaps that was her fault. Maybe she’d misjudged—
“Oh for the love… Would you just look at that?” The woman thrust a finger toward a young, very pregnant woman clinging desperately to her Marine. Mascara leaked down her cheeks as she let out a stifled wail. He pulled gently on his arm, but she only dug her heels in, gripping harder. They might have to get a crowbar for that one.
Skye couldn’t blame her for being upset. Clearly, her husband would miss the birth of their child. How hard. She couldn’t even imagine—
“Someone needs to slap some sense into her. She’s causing a scene. This is completely unacceptable.” Mrs. Blackwater shook her head and walked toward her husband standing to the side. Most likely to file an Overly Emotional in Public report.
The witch.
Okay. Apparently her initial judgment wasn’t so far off to begin with.
“Sucks, huh?” Madison walked up and laid her head on Skye’s shoulder. “I’m not gonna cry this time. I swore to myself this time I wouldn’t—”
“You always cry. It’s how I know you’ll miss me,” Dwayne said as he ambled up.
With an almost-silent sob, Madison launched herself at D, wrapping her arms around him. “You big dumbass,” she choked out into his shoulder. “Of course I won’t miss you.”
“Of course not,” D crooned, his honey-sweet voice soothing even as it gently teased. “I won’t miss you either.”
Madison sniffed. “’Kay.” As she stepped back, Skye took her place in the giant’s embrace.
“Stay safe.”
“No problem. We’ll rarely even step outside the wire. They never let us have any fun.” With one last squeeze, she let him go.
Tim slapped him on the back, a manly sign of affection appropriate for public. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
“Shit. Now I really won’t have any fun.” D grappled Tim into a bear hug, then pulled Jeremy in for the ultimate bonding moment. “Try not to be bored without me.”
“Jesus. I think you cracked my spine.” Jeremy rolled his shoulders but smiled. “I doubt boredom will be a problem. Besides, maybe Tim and I will be right behind you.”
“Just what Afghanistan needs.” With a grin and a handshake for the guys, he jogged to the buses, thick boots thudding on the parking lot pavement.
Maybe Tim and I will be right behind you. The words echoed in her mind as the bus engines roared to life. Tim stood behind her, and she leaned back just a little until she could feel him. Reassure herself he was still with her. For now.
But eventually his time would come. Sooner or later, he would deploy. She couldn’t delude herself into ignoring that fact. And she would be one of the women left behind, saying tearful good-byes. The knowledge that the day would come had been there, somewhere in the deep recesses of her mind.
But now, watching it live, the veil had truly been lifted. This was her life. Could she handle it?
She’d have to.
Chapter 20
Tim stuck his head through the cracked door of the office. “Sir? You asked to see me?”
Colonel Blackwater waved him in without looking up. “O’Shay, good. Come on in; just give me a minute to finish this up.”
Tim edged in, taking a seat in front of the massive oak desk in the CO’s office. While the Colonel finished flipping through the paperwork, Tim glanced around from the corner of his eye.
Rows of plaques and frames holding awards were lined on the walls, covering almost every inch of space. Several shadow boxes containing ribbons and medals sat on bookshelves or on top of file cabinets. A healthy, vibrant spider plant sat in the corner next to the big window. Probably watered by the administrative assistant, Tim thought. Blackwater didn’t seem like much for what anyone would call a domestic task. Too feminine.
“So.” Colonel Blackwater’s voice cracked through the silence, jolting Tim back. “How’s life?”
That’s what he was called away for? He left the rifle range early because the Colonel wanted to chew the fat? No, there was more to this. Tim approached the question with caution. And he hated that, at any point, he had to question his boss’ motivation.
“Training went well, sir. Only two failed to qualify today at the range, though it was a near miss both times. I’m sure tomorrow’s reshoot will see one hundred percent.”
Blackwater sat back and crossed one ankle over his knee, hands laced on his stomach. A casual pose, if someone was only paying half attention. Tim wasn’t fooled. The man was a study in underhandedness.
“Not what I meant, Captain, though I think you know that. How is life? How’s marriage treating you?”
Shit. And once again, the Colonel trapped him into personal talk. Tim hated bringing home with him to the office. Often refused to do so. It was nobody’s business, period, what went on in a Marine’s home. As long as what happened at home didn’t affect the Marine’s job performance, he never saw a need to discuss it. But try saying that to a superior officer.
“Things are going well, sir. Marriage is… better than I expected.”
Blackwater stared at him, waiting for more. When Tim didn’t continue, he sighed heavily. “O’Shay, you’re going to make me drag it out of you, aren’t you?”
Yes. Tooth and nail. “No. I’m just not sure what you’re looking for, sir.”
“Does your wife support your career?”
Jesus. How was it any of the man’s business? “She supports me.” He realized, as he said it, it wasn’t just some bullshit evasive answer. It was the truth. Regardless of her feelings about the military, she supported him. And that was enough for Tim.
The Colonel leaned forward and flipped a picture frame around to face Tim. Tim glanced at it. It was the Blackwaters, much younger, standing in front of an American flag.
“This was taken the day I pinned on my Captain bars. My wife was behind me every step of the way, without fail. Setting up house, breaking it down before a move. Hosting spouse events, mixing and mingling with other wives. Foregoing a career so she could concentrate on supporting mine. Keeping the home fires burning, so to speak.”
So far, it sounded much like his own mother’s life. And almost word-for-word what Tim had always expected in a wife.
“The saying is true, that behind every good man is a good woman.” Blackwater chuckled.
“Why not next to every man?” Tim murmured before he could think twice.
“Come again?”
“Nothing,” Tim said quickly.
The Colonel was quiet a moment. “My wife said she was pleasantly surprised by Mrs. O’Shay’s hosting abilities. She’s had… concerns. But your wife stepped up to the plate and delivered, as it seems. And also showed some good support during the send-off the other day. She’s coming around nicely. So congratulations to you.”
“You mean congratulations to my wife. For hosting a successful event.”
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Blackwater chuckled. “No, you. I had my doubts, I’ll admit. When I met your wife at the barbeque, I thought, ‘No, this won’t work.’ I thought you’d shot your foot off with your choice. Knowing you’re a career man, I just didn’t see what the benefit was having a wife like that.”
A wife like that. A slow rage simmered in Tim’s gut. How many years would he get in the brig for choking a lieutenant colonel? Too many. He kept his face carefully blank and let the CO have his say. His stupid, judgmental say.
“Turns out I was wrong. Yup, I can admit it when I am. I was wrong. You brought her to heel after all, and in quick time, too.”
Brought her to heel. Like a fucking dog. Tim bit his tongue. Every man was entitled his opinion, ignorant as it was. Tim didn’t have to agree with them. God, sometimes it sucked to be forced to follow orders.
The older man leaned forward, elbows on his desk, and dropped his voice a notch. “I know some people would say I’m old-fashioned for thinking this, but that’s not my problem. The fact is, I think a spouse has everything to do with how far a Marine will go in his career. Wrong wife can be a death sentence to your military dreams.”
The statement wasn’t even close to surprising for Tim. Many still believed that a wife’s “performance” was actually recorded on the military member’s service record. Completely false in this day and age, but the myth still persisted. And some felt it did matter. Hell, he used to. He used to think the type of woman he married mattered a great deal. Skye shot that one to shit. And thank God for it.
Colonel Blackwater was well known for his emphasis on “good, core family values.” Family values were great. But what Blackwater really meant was every man was to bring home the bacon and every woman was to stay home, barefoot and pregnant, baking pies. Tim almost laughed at the thought of Skye chained to the oven, baking anything other than a disaster in the kitchen. Then the thought of her pregnant flitted through his mind, and he felt a deep tug in his gut. Wasn’t hard to identify that one. Longing. God, she would make a fantastic mother.
The Officer Says I Do Page 24