A Proposal for the Officer

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A Proposal for the Officer Page 9

by Christy Jeffries


  When she stood up, her hands were braced on either side of the sink, her complexion slowly returning to normal in the mirror’s reflection. She thought she’d been so good by not eating any junk food today. Apparently, by avoiding everything, she’d gone too far in the opposite direction.

  “Ugh,” she groaned at herself, stopping just short of banging her fist on the marble countertop. There was no winning with this stupid disease. The military had trained her to adapt and overcome any snafu. She was smart, she was capable of anything her instructors and commanding officers had thrown at her and she’d always been healthy and physically active, taking decent care of her body. She’d thought she’d done everything right. So why couldn’t she get this damn thing under control?

  Maybe because she hadn’t felt like her old self since she’d gotten the diagnosis. And if she wasn’t herself, then who was she? Molly inspected the person in the mirror. The one with tired eyes and sunken cheeks and fingertips that looked like pincushions. More important, if she didn’t get control over things soon, what would she become?

  A knock sounded at the door. Molly drew in a ragged breath and squared her shoulders before turning the knob, bracing herself to confront Kaleb on the other side. Instead, she saw Julia, Kane’s fiancée.

  “Is everything okay in here?” the woman, who also happened to be a Navy surgeon, asked. Molly prayed for serenity, but decided she was too cursed to be spared another interrogation.

  “Never better.” Molly pushed her exhausted cheek muscles into a grimacing smile. But then she followed the doctor’s eyes to where the little black case lay open on the counter, the glucose meter and insulin pen all but jumping up and waving hello.

  She might not officially be a Chatterson yet, but clearly Julia had been hanging around them long enough to disregard the idea of personal boundaries because she pushed past Molly and asked, “Why don’t you wear a medical alert bracelet?”

  Molly sighed and shut the door, hoping nobody outside the hallway powder room could hear them. “I was just diagnosed and I’m not big on jewelry so I haven’t found one that I’m ready to commit to yet.”

  “Does Kaleb know?” Julia asked, and Molly nodded. “It certainly explains why he’s always stealing your drinks or offering you Diet Cokes. Does your commanding officer know?”

  “Unfortunately.” A look passed between the women and Molly didn’t have to explain to the military doctor that type 1 diabetes was a whole different breed from its more manageable type 2 relative, and that her need for insulin was an instant disqualification for keeping a pilot’s license. “I’m supposed to be seeing a few doctors over at Shadowview and get their reports before I can appeal a medical discharge.”

  “How’re you holding up?” The question seemed simple enough, but Molly felt her tough resolve slipping. Nobody had ever asked her that. The doctors pushed information and statistics and instructions at her. Her commanding officer asked her to keep him in the loop. She hadn’t told her squadron yet because she didn’t need their pity, nor did she want to be a reminder to them that even the best pilots could have their careers cut short like this. Kaleb, who was the only noncivilian that knew, seemed more concerned with trying to fix her than trying to understand her.

  “I was just trying to figure that out.” Molly sniffed, blinking back the tears.

  “From what I understand, it can be a very lonely and confusing road.” Julia put a gentle hand on Molly’s shoulder.

  The light touch stirred up something inside her. All the emotions and the burdens and the worries twisted into a tornado inside her chest, swirling around and lifting into a funnel of words spilling out of her mouth.

  “Every day for the past month, I’m constantly doubting myself, questioning myself, pricking myself to check to see that I haven’t eaten too much or not enough. It’s like taking a test I haven’t studied for and no matter what the stupid number is on the screen, it’s still a failing grade because it’s a constant reminder that I’m going to have to live like this for the rest of my life. From here on out, I will always be a prisoner to this disease and I hate it. I resent the power these numbers have over me. It’s so much easier to just avoid testing altogether and tell myself that I’m still the same person, that my body hasn’t betrayed me. So I guess I’m not holding up very well at all. I’ve lost a piece of myself, and no matter what I do, I’ll never get it back. I can never go back to what I was.”

  Unlike the rest of the medical professionals she’d talked to—which hadn’t been all that many—Julia just nodded, a calm understanding in her eyes. And then she did the most surprising thing of all and drew Molly into a tight hug. A sob spilled out of her throat, and the next thing she knew she was crying in a stranger’s arms. Yet, it felt so good to be able to just talk and have someone listen without giving advice or speaking in platitudes or trying to make things better.

  When every last tear had been wrung from her, Molly stepped back and looked at her splotchy red face in the mirror. “I hate being weak.”

  Julia grabbed a washcloth from the cabinet below and ran it under the cool stream of the faucet. She wrung it out before handing it to Molly. “You are not weak. You might have weak moments, or even weak days. But if you keep trying and fighting, you will always come back stronger. In fact, you’re about to find out exactly how strong you can be.”

  Another knock sounded at the door and Molly looked around the tiny half bathroom. “I don’t think we can fit anyone else in here.”

  Julia smiled and cracked the door open. Molly heard Kaleb’s hushed voice on the other side, and instead of being annoyed that he was checking up on her again, she melted. When Julia told him to wait in the hall and turned back to ask her how she wanted to proceed, Molly leaned a hip against the counter in relief. Finally, someone was letting her be in control.

  “I should probably go home. But I don’t want to cause...”

  Another knock, but this time, Kaleb didn’t wait for a reply before opening the door and letting himself in. So much for being in control.

  “Did you tell her?” he asked Molly, jerking his chin in Julia’s direction.

  “Lower your voice, Kaleb,” Julia said, trying to reach around him and squeeze the door shut. “Sorry, all the Chattersons can be a little loud and overbearing. But they mean well.”

  “Are you seriously comparing me to the rest of them, Julia?” Kaleb squished past his soon-to-be sister-in-law to stand closer to Molly. He put the back of his hand against her still-splotchy cheek, as if the only thing wrong with her was a slight fever. “You hardly ate anything this afternoon and your blood sugar got too low, didn’t it? I had a feeling that was going to happen.”

  Because he was now standing between them, Molly had to make eye contact with Julia in the mirror. “Do all of them also have a tendency to act like they know what’s best for everyone else?”

  “For everyone but themselves sometimes,” Julia said, then gave Kaleb a slight shove when he opened his mouth to respond. “Molly was just about to tell me how she wanted to proceed.”

  “I was saying that I should ho home, but I don’t want to cause a big scene.” Molly twisted her lower lip between her teeth before continuing. “I, uh, haven’t told Maxine or anyone else in my family yet, so...”

  “Don’t worry.” Julia winked. “Unlike the rest of the Chattersons, I know how to keep my mouth closed. And if anyone suspects anything and asks, I can claim physician/patient confidentiality.”

  Except Julia hadn’t acted like a doctor. She’d acted like a friend. And if she thought it odd that Molly would emotionally unload upon a complete stranger in a bathroom about things she didn’t feel comfortable sharing with her own sister, the kind woman didn’t mention it.

  “I can keep my mouth closed,” Kaleb muttered under his breath.

  “Do you feel up to driving?” Julia asked her.

  “I’ll drive her home,
” Kaleb said, causing Julia to roll her eyes.

  “Molly, what do you want?” she asked.

  Nobody was more surprised than her when she said, “I’d prefer Kaleb take me.”

  Chapter Eight

  For the second time that week, Kaleb found himself shoved behind the steering wheel of Molly’s cramped rental car, driving her to the apartment in downtown Sugar Falls. Julia, thankfully, had promised to come up with an excuse for their sudden departure while they slipped out the French doors of Kylie and Drew’s master bedroom.

  He had a million questions to ask, but he kept silent, letting Bruno Mars’s soulful melody on the hip-hop station do the talking for both of them. The streetlights came on as they turned off Snowflake Boulevard, and when he pulled into the parking spot behind the bakery, Kaleb finally asked, “Are you hungry?”

  “A little,” Molly admitted.

  “I’ll come up and make you some dinner.” He tried to make it sound more like an offer, but the truth was that there was no possible way he was going to leave her alone. Julia hadn’t told him what they’d talked about, and while Kane’s fiancée assured him that Molly was fine—physically—she’d also suggested that it wouldn’t be a bad idea for Kaleb to stay the night with her. Okay, so maybe Julia hadn’t come right out and made that suggestion, but he would’ve if he were the doctor in this situation. It was definitely implied that Molly shouldn’t be alone until her levels were stabilized.

  “I really miss the days of just ordering a pizza. I’m going to need to make that appointment with the dietitian because my diet is starting to get pretty limited,” she said halfheartedly, not quite convincing Kaleb that she was back to her feisty self.

  He was just happy that she wasn’t sending him on his way. When they got inside the apartment, she yawned, then said, “Make yourself at home. I’m going to go rinse off.”

  Kaleb was left in the kitchen, debating whether he had enough time to download another cooking lesson on his smartphone before she got out of the shower. Then he decided that he probably shouldn’t be thinking of her in the shower. He rummaged around in the fridge and found some sliced turkey and a block of Havarti...but no bread. He sliced it all up, then cut up an apple and grabbed a handful of grapes, putting it all on one platter. He inspected his culinary masterpiece. Nobody was going to offer him a contract for his own show on a cooking channel, but it’d do.

  When Molly came back to the kitchen, she was wearing a short white robe, her tan legs still damp from the hot steam. “That was fast,” Kaleb said.

  She helped herself to some turkey and grapes as she propped her elbows on the counter. “I was too tired to wash my hair.” She ate slowly while he stared at the sun-dried curls piled on top of her head in a messy ponytail.

  Kaleb’s lips turned down in worry. She really did look exhausted. He stacked a piece of cheese onto a slice of apple and popped it into his mouth. They were both hungry and ate in silence for a few minutes.

  He found a couple of bottles of unsweetened tea in the fridge and handed one to her. “Just for the record, I like your hair like that.”

  “If you think this looks good, just wait until morning.” Molly extended her hands a few inches away from her head. “When I wake up, it’ll be out to here.”

  Kaleb swallowed down his last bite. If he wasn’t so tired himself, he would’ve asked if she was suggesting he spend the night. But neither one of them were in the mood for teasing and he didn’t want to give her the opportunity to argue. Instead, he simply said, “I can’t wait to see it.”

  “Pfshh.” Molly ate more turkey and he was relieved to see that over half the plate was now gone. “That’s easy for you to say. Even after a day in the lake, Kaleb Chatterson, you still look perfect. Not a single, smooth brown strand out of place.”

  He held himself perfectly motionless as she reached out and ran her fingers over his head. But if Molly kept touching him like this, he wouldn’t be able to stay still.

  “Come on,” he said, grabbing her hand.

  “Where are we going?” she asked, although it had to be pretty obvious that he was leading her to the master bath.

  “I’ll wash your hair for you,” he said, his voice much gruffer than he’d intended.

  “How?” Her eyes suddenly seemed less tired in the bright light of the white tiled bathroom. In fact, they almost looked determined.

  “I’m sure I can think of a way.” He studied the sink, then the bathtub, weighing the options. “Wait here. I’m going to go grab a cup from the kitchen.”

  When he returned, Molly was standing in the same spot where he’d left her. Either she was too weak to protest, or she really wanted clean hair. Grabbing a stack of folded towels, he dropped them on the tile floor by the claw-foot tub.

  “Sit on these and lean back against the bath,” he instructed.

  Molly eyed him doubtfully, then plopped down, her tan, bare legs extending out of the center opening of white robe. Desire raced through him.

  Kaleb turned on the faucet, letting the water heat up as he looked around the bathroom for some shampoo. Coming back to the tub with the bottle he found inside the glass-enclosed shower stall, he slowly sank to his knees as Molly’s gaze never left him.

  It took a lot of trust for someone like her, someone who liked being independent and in control, to allow another person to perform such a personal task for them. Kaleb needed to prove that he was worthy of the responsibility.

  Pulling a hand towel off the nearby rack, he draped the terrycloth over the curved edged of the tub, then lifted the tendrils of hair off her neck as he guided her head back.

  When he paused for a second to study the elastic band holding up her ponytail, Molly said, “Let me get it.”

  Her voice was low, sounding as if it came from the deepest part of her throat, and Kaleb’s heart stopped as she reached up, causing the V-neck opening of the robe to gape open and revealing the silhouette of the top of one breast.

  When her hair cascaded around her face, his pulse shot back to life, beating at a more frantic pace. Molly closed her eyes as he used the plastic cup to slowly poor warm water over her scalp, smoothing back strands with the palm of his hand.

  Molly moaned, her relaxed shoulder pressing into Kaleb’s chest as he leaned over her. Even though his fingers were trembling, he carefully massaged the shampoo against her scalp, trying to focus on evenly distributing the suds instead of watching her chest rise and fall with the long, drawn out breaths she was taking.

  Kaleb didn’t know how much more of this intimacy he could experience without taking things to the next level. He began rinsing out the soap, but it was a longer process to get all the lathered suds out of her curls. When he finally shut off the spout and grabbed another towel to wrap around her wet hair, Molly opened her eyes, her lids heavy, her pupils dilated.

  Her voice was still throaty as she said, “Suddenly, I’m not so tired anymore.”

  Kaleb stood up, then held out his hand to help her rise to her feet. The towel tumbled off her head just as she looked at their reflections in the mirror. Molly ran a hand over the tangled, wet curls.

  Molly turned to him and Kaleb held his breath.

  Before he could say a word, she unknotted her robe and let it fall to the floor.

  His heart slammed against his chest and his lungs weren’t capable of expelling all the oxygen trapped inside. She’d been in a bikini all day and his brain had pushed itself to its limits imagining what was underneath. Yet, even his imagination and the tiny peeks he’d stolen earlier when her robe had loosened couldn’t do her body justice. She was perfect. Her small breasts were high and proud with tight pink nipples centered like regal crowns. Her waist was tiny, which made the curve of her hips that much more round. Her legs were lean, but strong and toned. And if he looked at the spot where they joined, he would be a goner. “You’re beautiful.”


  She blushed at his compliment before turning around and reaching inside the shower to turn on the spray. When the water heated up, she stepped in and left the glass door wide-open before looking back at him and saying, “I don’t know if there are any shirts here that might fit you, so unless you want to get yours all wet...”

  She didn’t finish her sentence, nor she didn’t have to. He heard a seam rip as he yanked the cotton T-shirt over his head. And then, because it seemed like the only fair thing to do, he untied his board shorts and let them fall to the floor. He set his glasses on the edge of the sink, giving silent thanks that he wasn’t farsighted, before stepping into the steamy shower with her.

  Her eyes were closed as the hot water sprayed against her scalp, steam misting over their bare skin. Kaleb wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her away from underneath the shower nozzle, then picked up the bottle of conditioner and squirted some in his palm. She put her hands on his chest, making slow wet circles against his pecs.

  He massaged the cream into her hair, and as his fingers slowly worked through the tangles, she dipped her head back and moaned. He didn’t trust his voice enough to say anything but her name. “Molly.”

  “Hmm?” she asked.

  “I need to rinse you off.”

  Their bodies slid against each other as they changed places once again and the water sluiced through her hair, causing silky rivers to trail over her nipples and past her flat stomach. He had to bite back a groan before he managed to say, “Okay, it’s rinsed.”

  She opened her eyes and he recognized the playful, yet determined look from when she’d wanted to drive the Jet Ski. “Now it’s my turn.”

  She reached for the bottle of bath gel. His chest rose and fell as she took her time sliding her soapy hands across the planes of his body. Except unlike her, he watched as she washed him, not wanting to miss a second of this erotic experience. When she lifted her hands to his shoulders, she looked in his eyes and smiled. “You’re beautiful, too, Kaleb.”

 

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