Code Name: Forever & Ever (A Warrior's Challenge series Book 5)

by Natasza Waters

  A perfect white smile broke from his full lips and the dimple in his chin deepened. “I promise you heaven, sweetheart. You can count on it.”

  With the sweep of his powerful arm, he drew her close and pushed through the undulating bodies in the bar. Instinct told her this man was one of a kind. Life had just become very interesting.

  * * * *

  Marg stretched, the bed sheets twisted into a rumpled mess around her. The air smelled sweeter this morning. What a night! What a guy! Thane had left in the early morning hours, but he’d delivered what he’d promised, an incredible night. Jumping out of bed, she threw on her white, silk robe and pushed open the balcony door. She’d pass on her run this morning. The work out she had last night had been enough to keep blood pumping through her veins for the next week.

  “Morning,” a voice said from the next door neighbor’s balcony.

  She tightened the belt on her robe and closed the cloth around her neckline. “Morning, Malcolm.” Creepy middle-aged neighbors who leered made her nervous.

  “Sounds like you had company last night.”

  Gross. Did he put a glass up to the wall or what? She gave him a raised brow. Malcolm sat in his deck chair with too many shirt buttons undone, revealing his chest and the gold medallion he always wore, lying against a dark mottled nest of hair.

  His stare gave her a serious case of the willies but being raised with daily reminders of etiquette, she said, “How is your mother?” He constantly talked about her and her failing health.

  “The same. I was telling her about you. She’d like to meet you.”

  “Maybe when she comes for a visit. Have a lovely morning.” As she turned, Malcolm jumped to the railing dividing their balconies.

  “I thought maybe you’d like to go out to dinner with me tonight. We could drop by and see her afterwards.”

  She stepped back toward her patio door. “A lovely idea, but I’ve got a date tonight.”

  His eyes narrowed. “I didn’t know you had a boyfriend.”

  Marg shrugged. “We just started seeing each other. Have a nice weekend.”

  She stepped back inside, slid the patio door closed with a rumbling glide, then locked it. She didn’t have a date, but a little white lie was better than the alternative. On her way to the kitchen, she saw a note scribbled on her telephone pad.

  Didn’t want to leave your bed this morning, but I gotta go. See ya around town, beautiful. Thane

  Thane had been her first one-night stand and the second guy she’d ever slept with. Losing her virginity in college hadn’t been something she was proud of, but for some reason having Thane’s eye for a night made her smile. Her sixth sense told her Thane wouldn’t be calling her for a second date. But she wasn’t exactly broken up about the thought.

  Coffee and a little catch up on cleaning and laundry topped the list today. Growing up, the maid tidied her room before she came home from school. Unlike her sisters, who redecorated their room with discarded clothes, Marg kept her space in order. Cleaning had a therapeutic effect on her. If the modeling didn’t work out, she’d seriously consider joining the Navy. Her parents would be mortified at the thought and she grinned, dropping the coffee grains into the filter.

  Between the two times they’d made out last night, Thane had talked about joining the SEALs. The danger didn’t outweigh the adventure, he’d told her, which had her thinking about going down to the local recruitment center.

  Around noon, the distinct ring on her phone told her someone was in the lobby of the condominium she’d leased.

  “Hello?”

  “Darling, I’m an old woman. Buzz me up.”

  She laughed. “Grams, hold on one second.” Marg grabbed her keys and took the elevator down to meet her. When the doors opened, her grandmother sat primly on a leather covered bench in the lobby.

  “I’ve missed you, my sweet girl. Lead the way.” Grams gave her a matronly hug.

  Marg hooked her arm in the crook of her grandmother’s elbow and led the matriarch of her family to the elevator. Sally Stines-Foster was her father’s mother and even though the spritely woman turned sixty this year, Marg and she were like two peas in a pod.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t visit sooner, but I’ve been so busy,” Grams said, barely using her cane.

  It had been over a month since she’d had a knee replacement. Marg knew she carried it for looks and maybe protection. Marg felt sorry for any hoodlum who thought he’d take on Sally Stines. Grams belonged to Hollywood’s elite list of well-respected women, but her roots were from hard-working blue-collar class.

  Marg opened the door to her condo. “Glad I cleaned up this morning.”

  Grams patted her cheek. “Unlike your mother, I don’t mind a little messy.”

  She chuckled and followed her in.

  “Let’s sit on the patio,” Grams suggested. “And have some tea.”

  “I’ll put the water on. Not sure if my creepy neighbor is outside, but sure.”

  Grams raised a brow. “How creepy?”

  Marg slipped Grams light jacked from her shoulder and hung it up in the closet. “Eight or nine outta ten.”

  Grams flicked her hand. “Not to worry, dear. Unless they’re a twelve or fourteen.”

  Within a few minutes, Marg joined her on the balcony with a tray, including cookies. Her grandmother still believed a good conversation always took place with tea and cookies.

  “I’m so glad you came to visit.” Marg settled down in the chair across from her.

  Grams poured their tea and sighed. “I figured I wouldn’t see you any time soon at your parents’.” She took a dainty sip. “Still pissed at them?”

  She laughed. “I’m not pissed, Grams.”

  “Bullshit.”

  She laughed again. Her grandmother played a good role of an old timer when it suited her, but she had brass balls and a tongue that could leave you flayed on a chopping block. Her second husband, Marg’s step-grandfather, had died last year. Sally Stines-Foster grieved in private and kept her social planner full. People in Hollywood still listened to her sharp tongue and sharper business sense.

  “I’m not angry at them. I just needed to get out of the house,” Marg said.

  “When I asked your mother for your address, she cursed it out.” Grams placed the china cup in its saucer. “You shocked both your parents when you announced you were leaving. I must admit, I was quite proud of you to stand on your own two feet without their help.”

  She gave her a faint smile. “They want to sell me off to the highest bidder. I want to make my own decisions on who I’ll marry.”

  Grams nodded slowly, her bright eyes evaluating. “Ever since you were a little girl, you seemed to walk a different road, but why San Diego?”

  “I don’t like L.A. I work there all the time. That’s enough for me. I like San Diego’s pace and my agency is located here.”

  “Lot of sailors running around this town.” Grams nibbled on the edge of a cookie.

  Marg shrugged, and her cheeks burned.

  Grams nibbled a little more and perused the baked good for a second, then set it down. “Met any?”

  Grams had good instincts while Marg’s mother had none. Claire Stines-Foster could read a lie on her bridge partner’s face, but not her daughters. The nannies always knew when Marg and her sisters were up to no good, and so did Grams. She chuckled. “Maybe.”

  “Margaret, don’t burn your wings when you’re just starting to fly.”

  “Like you?”

  Grams gave her a knowing smile. “So, moving to San Diego would have nothing to do with the fact that your parents are dead against anything military, now would it?”

  “It’s their choice and their prejudice. I support what our troops do for this country.”

  Grams let out a big sigh, and her gaze strayed toward the ocean. “You sound like a 1960’s draft poster.”

  “What was Grandpa Stines like? You never talk about him.”

  A reminiscent smi
le crossed her lips. “Between us?”

  Marg nodded, excited to hear a tidbit about her grandfather.

  “He was the one and only true love of my life.” Her gaze settled on Marg. “Of course, I found life with Arnold Foster acceptable. Your step-grandfather was a good man, but he wasn’t Braden Stines.”

  Marg leaned a little closer. “I think I always knew that, but tell me why.”

  “Because, dear, when you set eyes on the love of your life, you’ll understand.” Grams knitted her aging hands together on the table. “Your grandfather was a very handsome and brave man. We had twenty unforgettable years together. Many of those years he was gone, but when he was home, we loved each other as if it would be the last time we saw each other. When he was away, I was busy raising your father and working. Most of my friends were also Navy wives. We stuck together.” Grams let out a deep sigh. “And thank God for that. When Braden died, I thought I’d be alone forever, but Arnold was very patient and good to me. He knew your grandfather. In fact, he’d been trying to woo me when I met Braden. After Braden passed, Arnold gave me the time I needed. He knew my heart was broken and would never really repair itself.”

  “What did Grandpa do in the Navy?”

  “He enlisted at eighteen and that’s when I met him. We both came from simple roots. Initially, he was a regular seaman, but that man was the best swimmer in his platoon. Smarter than all the rest, too.”

  She nodded wanting to hear more. “Dad doesn’t talk about him, but I don’t understand his fervent dislike for the military.”

  Grams adjusted her silk scarf. “I wondered about that myself, but I think it was to bury his grief. He decided he’d blame the entire US Navy for taking his father away.”

  “But you don’t.”

  “No, darling, I don’t. I may have lost the love of my life to the Vietnam War, but I wasn’t the only one. Life goes on until it’s over, and one day your grandfather and I will be reunited.”

  “Not anytime soon, I hope,” Marg added.

  “I can’t live forever, Margaret. And I want to make sure my favorite granddaughter is on the right track before I do.”

  Marg smiled. “You’re not supposed to have favorites.”

  Grams rolled her eyes. “I love you all equally, but I’ve always seen a lot of myself in you.”

  When Marg was much younger, she’d found a photo album her father kept in his closet. They were pictures of Sally and Braden. Young and in love, Braden cradled her father in his arms. The resemblance between she and her grandmother left no doubt they were related. They could have been twins. Marg didn’t have to search very much to see her height came from her grandfather. Braden Stines had been a very handsome man with swarthy dark features and a wicked white smile.

  “Was it love at first sight?” she asked Grams.

  “It was 1951, darling. The hippy movement hadn’t started yet, but we got a jump on it. I didn’t throw myself into the Free Love movement like others but,” she paused and sighed with a demure smile on her lips. “When I saw your grandfather the first time, I was riding a bike. I drove right off the sidewalk and down a set of stairs, ending up on my ass.”

  Marg chuckled. “I never knew that.”

  Grams shrugged. “Reminiscing about your biological grandfather in front of Arnold didn’t seem very kind.”

  “Did Grandpa come to your rescue?”

  “He did, once he stopped laughing.”

  Marg’s shoulders rolled with laughter of her own.

  “He asked me if I’d like to join him at the cinema. I couldn’t refuse since I’d nearly rode off Ventura Beach into the sea, so I accepted.”

  Marg shunted her bum a little closer to the edge of the chair. “And?”

  With hands forked together and her thumbs turning slow circles, Grams grinned. “I made an exception for Braden Stines when it came to free love.”

  Marg snorted. “Do I have to do the math?” she teased.

  Grams batted her eyes. “It’s a good thing he loved me.” Her gaze drifted toward the sea once again. “I loved that man with all my heart. When the SEAL officers appeared at my door in their number ones, I couldn’t breathe. I didn’t want them to speak. I wanted to slam the door shut and pretend they weren’t standing there.” Her brows knitted together with memory. “It was the most horrible day of my life.”

  “SEAL officer?”

  Grams shook her head a little as if ridding the memory. “Yes, dear. Braden became a SEAL. They were considered a special maritime unit and were called upon for special missions. In the early days, they were known as Scouts and Raiders. SEALs have been in many of the fights throughout the years, but in Vietnam they grew into their own. Braden had been approached in 1966 to join this special warfare unit. He accepted without a second thought.” Grams offered a faint smile. “I hardly heard from him when he was away. We didn’t have computers and cell phones back then. In December of 1970, he came home. I thought it would be his last tour in Southeast Asia, but they asked him to do one more mission and he said yes.”

  Marg was riveted to her seat, listening to her grandmother. She’d never shared this story before. “Grandpa died in 1971, didn’t he?”

  Sally Stines suddenly looked her age. The aura of spit and vinegar that normally surrounded her, dissipated. “It was New Year’s Day. He was in Saigon when I last spoke with him, which was a month before he died. Kennedy was dead, and so was Martin Luther King. The sit-ins and vigils against our American troops fighting over there had reached an explosive pinnacle. Even near the end, no one really understood why our boys had been sent to fight a battle that wasn’t ours to fight. Everyone knew someone who had lost a son or a husband.”

  “Do you know what happened to him?”

  Grams released a long breath. “Not initially, but two years later a man showed up at my door. I thought at first he was a vagrant looking for a handout. His camouflage jacket was torn and dirty. He wore a long mottled beard and his gaze swung from panicked to distant. I was going to send him on his way when he said his name was Petty Officer Brookfield, and he was with Braden when he died.”

  Marg absentmindedly picked up the teapot and refilled her grandmother’s cup. “What happened?”

  “Braden was the strong silent type. He never had the need to boast or prove his strength. It wavered around him like air on a hot day. It was his most attractive aspect. He was always certain of his choices when he made them.” Grandma sipped from her cup and gently placed it back in the saucer. “He saved his team, but gave his life in the process. Petty Officer Brookfield told me they were extracting from a top secret mission. I heard Braden use that term before. It means they were leaving, getting out of the area when a troop of North Vietnamese came out of nowhere and cut them off from the boats waiting on the river. They all tried to shoot their way out, but the Viet Cong had backup, and before long there were hundreds of them. They hated the SEALs because they did a lot of damage to enemy troops. It was all very secretive and Braden didn’t tell me much, but I do know the Vietnamese called them the men with green faces.

  By 1970, Braden had become a lieutenant. He’d earned it, versus being handed the rank as so many had been. Many young men didn’t last in jungle warfare. Intelligence brought my husband home every time—but the last time. Braden ordered his men to get to the boats while he set demolitions meant to block the advancing troops. He almost made it to safety, but the enemy got past the explosives before they discharged.” Grams swallowed heavily and closed her eyes. “Braden was shot in the back. It wasn’t a lethal wound, but he couldn’t get out of the way of the explosives. He died on the river’s edge.”

  Marg shuddered. She once heard her mother say you got a sharp chill when a ghost was near. “I’m sorry, Grams. I wish he’d come home to you and Dad.”

  Grams reached across the table and they held hands. “Falling in love with a serviceman is a gamble, sweetheart.”

  Marg swallowed deeply, her thoughts swaying to Thane. He, too, seeme
d invincible, and he was a SEAL, well almost. “I met someone last night.”

  “Do tell.” Grams daintily plucked another cookie from the plate.

  Marg pushed the plate toward Grams. She paused, not knowing whether she should divulge, but if she could talk to anyone it was the wizened woman sitting across from her. “He’s almost a SEAL. He’s finished his first phase of training.”

  “I see.” Gram’s inquisitive eyes brightened slightly. “And is it love at first sight?”

  “He’s an exceptional man, but to be honest, I don’t think it’s love, but there was plenty of lust.” She blushed.

  “Marg, you are my special girl. I pray every day that your life will be blessed. That you’ll know love like I did. Eventually, you’ll have a family of your own. I believe in time, you’ll have it all. Whatever you decide when it comes to the gruffer sex, promise me you will make sure to use your head and follow your heart.”

  Marg rounded the tiny table and wrapped her arms around her grandmother. “I love you, Grams.”

  “I love you too. If you do end up with a sailor as your husband, remember to cherish every day as if it’s your last.”

  She popped a kiss on the soft skin of her grandmother’s cheek. “I promise.”

  Grams patted Marg’s hand. “Now tell me what it’s like to be an up and coming model.”

  She laughed. “A lot of standing, smiling and being ordered around. Kinda like being in the Navy, except for the smiling.” She stepped to the railing. “You want to go out for lunch? I know a few great places in town.”

  Her grandmother rose and crooked an elbow for her to take. “Lead the way, darling.”

  Leaving the living room, a warm gust of wind snaked across Marg’s neck. As she turned, the curtains covering the patio doors fluttered. “One sec, Grams. Think I left the door open.” She swept the sheers aside and her brow knitted. She pushed on the handle, but the door sat snuggly against the frame.

  “Everything all right, dear?”

  “Door’s closed.” The air conditioning vents sat on the other side of the room. Marg shrugged. “I’m just going to do a quick change.”