Lieutenant Commander Stud

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Lieutenant Commander Stud Page 18

by Chance Carter


  “That won’t be necessary, ma’am. I’ve come on behalf of Commander Shepherd. He’s asked whether you’ve accepted the contract or not. I’m afraid he’ll need an answer before he leaves.”

  “When’s he leaving?” I asked, and steeled myself for the answer.

  “Tomorrow morning, Miss Scott.”

  “Oh. I see.”

  Petty Officer Jameson opened her mouth, then shut it again.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  “I heard that the Lieutenant Commander is being relocated,” she said. “I know that you were close with him.” She lowered her voice. “Just hang in there. Everything will work out. He’s a tough nut to crack, but once you get through to him, things will be easier.”

  Did she mean Commander Shepherd or Ryan? I bit my lip and worked everything over in my mind. I couldn’t cling to him any longer. He made it clear this was physical from the start, and I let myself fall in love in spite of all of that.

  To spite myself, in fact. Ridiculous – I should’ve stuck to what I knew, decorating and pretending I had control over my life and what happened in it.

  But the last time with him, in his office, he’s said he was falling for me. He didn’t want to, but he was falling for me. And now this was happening, and the extent to which he really felt for me was exposed.

  If he truly cared he’d at least have… talked to me first? Maybe explained how he truly felt instead of informing me in that flat tone that he would be shipped out and I’d stay behind with a broken heart.

  “ – the last thing he wants,” Jameson said.

  “What? Sorry, I was miles away. What did you say?”

  “Baker will do this because it’s commanded of him, but it’s the last thing he wants. I know that there’s something between you two, I don’t know if it’s more than friendship, but if it is, hang on to it. Dig your claws in.” Jameson’s eyes were expressive. “I lost someone once. Long ago. It was my fault. I let go. Don’t let go.”

  I gulped but the lump in my throat didn’t budge.

  “I’ve overstepped my bounds. Apologies, Miss Scott.”

  “No, it’s fine. Thank you for saying that. And thank you for the advice,” I said, “I’ll do whatever I can to – I – I’ll do what I can.” I couldn’t make him stay. I could ask, but I couldn’t make him stay for me.

  He had his orders and that was that. It wasn’t as if he could tell Commander Shepherd that he’d decided not to leave. That would be it for his military career and I didn’t want that on my conscience.

  Or did I? Maybe, Ryan wasn’t happy in the Navy anymore.

  “Have a good evening, ma’am,” Jameson said, and saluted. She marched off and I stood there, staring into the space she left behind, and the gray wall opposite.

  Jameson had helped me more than she knew, and I was going to repay her by leaving because Ryan wouldn’t be around anymore? No. That wasn’t who I was. That wasn’t how my father raised me.

  Movement flickered in my peripheral vision and I turned my head, then inhaled, sharply.

  Ryan strode down the corridor toward me, eyes hard, uniform buttoned and neat. He halted in front of my door and tucked his arms behind his back and planted his feet. “I need to speak with you, Miss Scott,” he said, and the professionalism actually hurt. “Do you have a minute?”

  Chapter 28

  Ryan

  I wasn’t able to stop myself from coming, regardless of how much I needed to distance myself from Chanel. I’d openly told her that I was falling for her, and that I didn’t want to. I owed her an explanation.

  I’d promised myself I wouldn’t care again because it would only end in pain. I was right about that.

  “Come in,” Chanel said, and backed away from the door.

  I hesitated, glanced past her at the carpet, the phone on the desk, and the quiet skies outside the window. Shepherd hadn’t left yet, but when he did there’d be an organized frenzy outside, soldiers preparing for the departure. It wouldn’t be the same when I left.

  Chanel examined me, her heart-shaped face upturned. “Ryan?”

  I walked into her quarters and shut the door behind myself. The heat of being close to her got to me, and I struggled not to retreat again. “I owe you an explanation and an apology.”

  “Of all the things you owe me those two are the last,” she said, evenly.

  Her eyes were red and puffy – it hurt knowing I’d caused it. I didn’t want her to break down because of me. I cleared my throat. “I told you I was falling for you,” I said, “and that was wrong of me. I shouldn’t have led you on.”

  “Led me on?”

  “Yes,” I said, “led you on. Nothing could ever have happened between us and it was wrong of me to let you believe that it was a possibility.”

  “Trust me, you were clear all along that it was the last thing you wanted.”

  She was bitter and there wasn’t anything I could say to change it, but I had to try.

  I walked past her to the window and rested my knuckles on the sill. The sky allowed for watery sunlight, and a grouping of fluffy white clouds drifted across the endless blue. What it had to be like, that sense of aimlessness.

  “I’m sorry for hurting you.”

  “Then don’t do it,” she said. “Don’t leave me.”

  “Chanel –”

  “No,” she said, and came up behind me. She didn’t touch me, though she was close enough that her breath feathered across the base of my neck. “No, don’t give me that bullshit about leaving again. You know that you’re meant to be here. You care about the people on this base, otherwise why would you have wanted to have it redecorated?”

  I bowed my head and stared at my white knuckles, willing my heart to stop beating a mile a fucking minute. Why did she do this to me? “I don’t have a choice. I have to leave.”

  “But –”

  “I have to leave,” I grunted, and spun around to face her again. God, she was close – I picked out the teardrop that clung to her eyelashes, and pictured smoothing fingers over her soft skin, tasting her lips and making the pain disappear.

  “You don’t have to leave. This is a choice you’re making. I – even if you did leave… I could come with you?” She phrased it as a question and trembled, terrified of my judgment.

  “No,” I said. “You don’t understand what it’s like to lose something you care about.” Flashes of pain and dust, grit, and screams. Blood. “I have to make tough decisions like this, and if I let you come with me it will only end in tears. What happens when I’m shipped out again, somewhere worse, somewhere more dangerous?”

  “I’m not afraid.”

  “You can’t follow me across the world. What happens when I’m deployed?”

  “There are plenty of wives and girlfriends who stay behind,” she said, and squared her shoulders.

  “I won’t let you have that life. I know what it’s like, moving from home to home, base to base. I know what it feels like to be uprooted. I’m a soldier. Do you know what that means?”

  She opened her mouth, no doubt to lodge another complaint or rebuttal.

  “It means I’m a tool.”

  A frown, and she snapped her teeth together with a click.

  “I do as I’m told and I go where I’m needed. Duty is a heavy burden to bear, but it’s one I will bear for this country to keep it safe.” To keep her safe too.

  “You’re going to keep the country safe from Hawaii?” She raised an eyebrow, a hint of that sassiness showing again. I loved that about her.

  “You wouldn’t understand.”

  “I do understand,” she said, fiercely.

  “No, you don’t. Don’t bother trying to convince me,” I replied, and waved a hand. “This was unbelievable. Being with you is a memory I’ll treasure. I have to leave, though, and there’s nothing that will change that. Orders are orders.”

  “But –”

  “Nothing will change,” I reiterated. I softened up despite my fear of caring and los
ing again. I let this woman into the personal space I’d walled off long ago, and it weakened me.

  We stood inches apart, staring each other down.

  “You’re so God damn stubborn,” she hissed, and anger flashed in her expression. “Why won’t you listen to me?”

  “Because it’s an exercise in futility, ma’am,” I said.

  “But I – we’re –”

  “We had our fun,” I said, stiffly. If I had to hurt her to get her to back off… no, I didn’t want to hurt her. I couldn’t. “It’s over now, the fun is over. Duty calls. You got the contract, didn’t you?”

  She pressed her lips into a thin line. Fierce and beautiful. I itched to kiss her again.

  It was the strongest sensation, a tug behind my navel forcing me closer and closer, but I resisted it.

  “Miss Scott?”

  “Now, I’m Miss Scott?” she said. “So, that’s the way you’re going to play it? Put up a professional front like what we had was nothing but a few fucks on the base?”

  “Keep your voice down.”

  “Why? Are you that ashamed of what happened between us?” Chanel tapped her heel. “Oh, I know, I know, you stand to lose everything if they find out, right?”

  My eyes widened.

  “For fuck’s sake, don’t worry, I’m not going to out you to your superiors. I’m not a total creep.” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “I just think it’s ironic that you’re so dedicated to the military but you risked everything when you got together with me.”

  I had, but I didn’t tell her why. It would only make the pain worse.

  Chanel had changed my life. She’d helped me realize that I had the potential to be more than just that tool. Just when I thought maybe, just maybe, I could have more than this base and that profound sense of duty, the Commander offered me a swift kick to the ass and a wakeup call.

  “It was a mistake,” I said.

  Her eyelids fluttered and she lowered her gaze. “A mistake,” she whispered. “That’s all it was to you? A mistake? So, you lied when you said you felt something for me.”

  “No, but I was irresponsible to say it when this was the only end it could reach,” I replied, evenly as I could manage. “I won’t let either of us fall because of what we did. I’ll leave and serve as I’m meant to. And you’ll – did you get the contract? You haven’t answered me, yet.”

  She kept her head down, but her shoulders shook.

  “Chanel,” I said, softly.

  “I got the contract,” she said, at last, her voice quavered. “I got the damn contract, but my mother is closing the business because of it. There’s a petition in town to push out the base. An uproar.”

  “They won’t succeed, and even if your mother closes the store, you can start your own one. You have the contract here, you can take the money you earn to start something of your own.”

  She looked up then, but there wasn’t a hint of excitement in her. “Okay,” she said. “Whatever.”

  “This is what you wanted, isn’t it? To get away from your mother? That’s what it seemed like.”

  “This was what I wanted,” she whispered, but it wasn’t really a confirmation, only an echo of my words. “This was what I wanted.”

  “I have to go now.”

  “When are you leaving?” she asked.

  “Two weeks,” I replied.

  Chanel straightened and blinked at me. “Two weeks?”

  “And in those two weeks we’re not going to see much of each other. I’ll be busy here, prepping my predecessor. And I have to deal with Whitmore. Understand?”

  She didn’t acknowledge what I said, but finally backed off. She walked to her desk, pulled the chair back and sat down, then drew the cellphone toward herself. She fiddled with it, opening up her messaging app.

  “I didn’t want you to get hurt, Chanel.”

  “Right,” she said. “That’s fine. If you’ll excuse me, I have to get to work here. I need to contact my suppliers and get started on the revamp for the base you’re abandoning.”

  That stung, even though she had to know it wasn’t the truth. “I wish you all the best,” I said, formally.

  “Same to you.” That came through gritted teeth.

  I turned on my heel and marched from the room, leaving the door slightly open behind me. That had gone as terribly as expected, but at least I had a better handle on the situation. I had to leave my feelings for Chanel behind when I left. This was the first step to doing that.

  I walked on confident that I’d made the right decision, but doubts crept in. I turned the corner and continued down the corridor, hesitated, started walking again, then stopped.

  “Fuck.” Had I done the right thing? I was torn between duty and love, a first for me.

  Footsteps approached from the far end of the gray passage and Petty Officer Jameson rounded the corner. “Good afternoon, Sir,” she said. “Are you well?”

  “Jameson,” I said, and licked my lips. “Aren’t you supposed to be with Whitmore, right now?”

  “No, Sir. Not according to the schedule,” she replied.

  I’d written that schedule myself, and it was definitely her slot. “Then who’s with him?”

  “I believe that Officer Wyatt is with him, Sir. That’s what I read on the timetable.”

  “Officer Wyatt is off base collecting supplies, Jameson.” My heart sank into my stomach. How was this possible? Had Whitmore somehow managed to change the schedule? No, this had to be a clerical error.

  Perhaps, the pressure had addled my mind and I’d made this rookie mistake. One that could cost me more than just rank. Whitmore was a damn maniac.

  “Sir?”

  “Walk with me, Jameson. We need to check Whitmore, now.” I led the path down the corridor, boots tapping on the tile. Jameson kept pace beside me, her jaw clenched.

  She didn’t like this either, and I threw out my doubt. No way had I messed up that schedule. Someone changed it, and it had to be Whitmore’s involvement that led to that change.

  We entered the passage leading up to his quarters. No guards outside. No guards inside. And no Whitmore.

  “Christ,” I muttered. “Find him. Jameson. Full alert. Find him before he hurts someone else. And for God’s sake, try to keep panic to a minimum.”

  “Yes, Sir,” Jameson said, and rushed out.

  My intestines writhed like snakes, twisting, snapping at each other. Where was the first place Whitmore would go? My office? Perhaps, he’d seek me out for revenge. But then, he knew exactly where to go if he wanted to exact the worst revenge of all.

  “Chanel,” I grunted, and sprinted for the hall.

  Chapter 29

  Chanel

  I’d never felt this defeated before. My dad would’ve told me that defeat is another obstacle to overcome, or a stepping stone. That I should be grateful for the failure because at least I’d learn something from it, but this wasn’t the type of failure I could embrace.

  This wasn’t a screw up with a design in the work place. It wasn’t a friggin’ cooking failure or a car crash. It was my heart on the line, except the line wasn’t even there anymore. Ryan had jerked it out of reach.

  I stared at the cellphone in my hands, and considered shooting off a text to Paula. She’d have some quick-witted advice or a shoulder to cry on, but I couldn’t continue relying on her for everything, especially if I planned on taking this contract.

  If I did, I’d be up here for the next month and contact with folks in Meek Springs would be limited. I doubted that Commander Shepherd would care what name I carried for my business, whether it was Scott’s Interiors or just me, alone. A freelance decorator. I’d nailed the presentation and that was all that mattered to him.

  The choice was mine. Go back to Meek Springs and live with my overbearing mother, or stay on the base and complete the contract without Ryan here.

  It wasn’t much of a choice.

  I opened the portfolio on my desk, then reached for my folder of contact
s beside it, and brought it across. My mind slued to keep up – my soul felt empty after the talk with Ryan.

  I’d fallen in love with him and he didn’t even know. He’d fallen for me and said it was a mistake.

  “Stop it,” I whispered, and blinked back tears. “That’s over now. Focus on your work. That’s all that matters.” I didn’t have a mother. I couldn’t lean on Paula and use her as a crutch. I didn’t have Ryan. “You never had him, dumbass.”

  I blinked back tears and flipped through the portfolio, to the information I’d marked with sticky notes. I turned to the corresponding page in my contacts folder and traced a line down the row of numbers. I needed paint, and help from some professional painters. I wasn’t about to trust that task to soldiers on the base – they didn’t have the necessary experience and I didn’t want to waste what funding I did have repainting.

  “Okay,” I said, “okay. This isn’t so bad. Easy. You can do this.” If I focused on all the tasks at hand, I wouldn’t have time to cry over Ryan or my idiocy in having fallen for him in the first place.

  The door creaked open and I frowned, turning toward it. My stomach dipped and whooped back up again. “What do you want?”

  Jack Whitmore stood there, gripping the edge of the door, a strange smile twisting his lips. “Is that any way to say hello to an old friend?”

  “An old friend? I’ve known you less than a month,” I replied, and tamped down on my fear. Jack’s expression was that of a predator – if I let him see he was getting to me he’d pounce before I got the chance to formulate a plan. “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be under guard?”

  He entered my room and shut the door. Didn’t lock it, though, thank goodness.

  “That’s the thing, I shouldn’t be under guard. I wasn’t the one who beat up that kid, and a lot of the soldiers on this base know it,” he said, then cast a glance around the room. He gestured to my bed. “Mind if I sit down?”

  “Yes.”

  He grinned and plonked down on the mattress anyway. “Thanks,” he said, and hooked one leg up to rest it on the other, knee jutting outward. “You see, most of the soldiers around here know what Ryan is capable of and they don’t believe that I was the one who hurt that kid.”

 

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