Private Maneuvers: Hot Zone Book 3

by Denise A. Agnew

  “Can we talk?” he asked.

  “About what?”

  “Earlier today. In the basement. It won’t happen again. Unless you want it to.”

  She inhaled slowly and deeply, her mind frazzled by the implication. “You’re saying you’d like it to happen again?”

  He leaned on the table. He picked up a plain, cheap glass saltshaker and examined it, then put it down. “Yeah. I sure would.”

  Heat boiled up low in her body at his admission.

  “There’s only one problem with it. I’m not going any further until I understand you better,” he said.

  Wow. The guy not only wanted to talk, he wanted to understand her. Not something she’d encountered with the average guy trying to get in her pants. Not at all. She didn’t know whether to be excited or alarmed.

  Jake pinned her with an inquisitive stare. “Tell me what I can do to make you comfortable around me.”

  “I’m not sure you can. Look, it has nothing to do with you.”

  Liar, liar.

  “If I’m working here for a month it sure as hell effects my environment. In my job with the Army I can’t afford any screw ups. What I do requires discipline and hard work. I approach everything that way. I need this environment to work for me now.”

  “You never relax.” She smiled reluctantly. “You’re like a coiled spring. I’m not sure anyone could be truly at ease when you’re prowling.”

  One of his eyebrows went up. “Prowling? That’s a dramatic word, isn’t it? I don’t prowl.”

  She didn’t usually enjoy goading a man, but something within her responded to him this way. “Oh yes, you do. You’re very physical. I suppose women respond to it all the time. Surely that doesn’t surprise you.”

  “I’ve been so damned busy over the last few years, I haven’t noticed.”

  “Now who is holding back? If the playing field is going to be level, then you have to tell me more about your relationships.”

  To her surprise, he complied. “Okay, there were two women in the last several years. One of them wrote me a Dear John letter the last time I was on a mission. Got home and read the note—she wanted nothing more to do with me. That happened three years ago. I didn’t even know anything was wrong.”

  Typical man, her biased mind wanted to say. Yet nothing about Jake screamed ordinary.

  “Then there was the ultimate Dear John letter ten years ago. I was married five years, got into Special Forces, and my wife left me while I was on a mission.” When she stayed silent, a bit shocked he’d revealed that much to her, he said, “Too much information? I wanted you to understand I’ve been through the relationship wars a few times myself. I understand.”

  He’d managed to intrigue her when she didn’t want to be. I’m insane. Insane. “Okay, that was fair. What do you do to relax? Take on odd jobs where you have to keep the unruly in line?”

  He blinked, his mouth opened, and he flicked a glance at her parted lips. “I read a lot. Fiction and nonfiction. I work out. Have cookouts for friends.” He tilted his gaze upwards for a second, perhaps thinking intently. “I like archery, and when I’m home I try to do as much of it as possible.”

  “That’s not something you hear people talk about often. Are you good at it?”

  “Reasonably. I use a traditional bow. Old school.”

  She smiled, and his answering grin sent heat blossoming inside her stomach and flooding lower. Oh, she’d lost it. Lost her immediate battle to ignore him on every level other than professional.

  “I also like to practice my proficiency with the weapons we use with our team.” When she didn’t press him for more answers, he asked, “Do you have something against the Army?”

  “What if I say yes?”

  “I’d live with it. And it would explain a hell of a lot as to why you’re as jumpy around me.”

  She realized their heads were way too close together, as if he’d narrowed the distance between them millimeter by millimeter until he’d gained ground. Typical military approach. See the hill take the hill. She inhaled slowly, a dangerous and heady craving stealing up inside.

  “I have a history with soldiers,” Marisa said.

  “What do you mean?”

  “You want the unvarnished truth?”

  “Of course.”

  “My fiancé, Alec Fletcher, was killed in Iraq three years ago. Three days after he arrived there.”

  Her confession had the desired effect. He drew back slightly, his eyes hardening. “God, I’m sorry.” Then he did something she never expected. He cupped her cheek for a moment in a tender touch that caused tears to surge into her eyes. “I’m so sorry.”

  His touch disappeared as fast as it came. They sat like that, trapped in a cocoon of her sorrow, a sharp and serrated edge she’d never quite relinquished in her heart.

  “Thank you. So you can see I know a bit about the American soldier. Far more than I ever want to know again.”

  He nodded, understanding now lighting his darkly intense eyes. “I know it’s personal, but if you ever need to talk, I’m here to listen.”

  She didn’t expect that. Silence enveloped them.

  “Tell me something else about you,” he said after awhile.

  Another unexpected request. The man was full of surprises. “Like what?”

  “Anything.”

  She took a deep breath. She pointed to the scar on her face, right along her jawline. Most of the time people couldn’t see it—the right application of makeup and time had faded the once dramatic mark.

  “I got this scar from an accident when I was fifteen. In Peru.” She pointed to the more noticeable scar on the inside of her left forearm. “My parents and I were in a car wreck there after we had a trip down the Amazon.”

  “The Amazon?”

  “My father was a biologist and my mother a zoologist.”

  “Were?”

  “Oh, they’re not dead.” She swallowed hard. “They’re disgraced.”

  His eyes widened, and she took some gratification in realizing she’d shocked him. Or at the least, surprised Jake. She had a feeling it took a lot to throw him off track, something the equivalent of an emotional grenade perhaps. His very toughness challenged her in a way she didn’t understand, but wanted to decipher with every fiber in her being. And wanting this also disturbed her way down where it counted, a fundamental acknowledgment where she surrendered all sense of direction.

  He folded his hands, almost like he planned to pray for her. “Disgraced?”

  She hadn’t told Alec about her parents until she’d known him a month, but here she told Jake after short acquaintance. It seemed natural, as if he should know and she could trust him not to paint her with a stereotypical brush.

  Marisa took a steadying breath. “It was about fifteen years ago. They made false claims about ecological and biological things they discovered in the Amazon. They love nature, of course, and they were so disturbed by what they saw…destruction of the rainforest…they flipped out and went too far.” She paused and took a measure of Jake’s reaction to this news. His brow creased, his concentration genuine. She continued. “Obviously, this didn’t go over well and they lost their jobs with their foundation.”

  He leaned back in the booth, his sudden relaxation in direct contrast to earlier tension. “I can understand their desperation. Heavy emotion can make people do rash things. When they want something so much they’ll do anything to obtain it. Your parents wanted to save an ecosystem. Good intentions, bad way to show it.”

  An odd delight filled her. She couldn’t believe he was being this easy about what she’d told him. “You’re very understanding. Even Alec condemned my parents.”

  “Your fiancé?”

  “Yes.”

  “I don’t know all the details, and I don’t know your parents personally. It’s hard for me to judge.”

  “That’s the interesting thing. Most people do judge.” She continued where he left off, touching the saltshaker, her finger c
urving over and around the smooth glass lines. “A lot of people back away from me when they hear what my parents did. As if their duplicity directly correlates to me. As if I would be just as dishonest.” She pushed the saltshaker back to the middle of the table. “They don’t understand that what my parents did has made me scrupulously honest. I abhor anything not on the up and up. I’ve had to learn that being honest with people and telling them about my parents might result in a rough experience.”

  He gave her an understanding smile. “I’m not most people. Anyone who’d treat you that way because of your parents is just plain stupid.”

  She smiled at his bluntness. “People are people. They do a lot of dumb things.”

  As he watched her, his expressive eyes showed total concentration on their discussion. She appreciated that more than she could say. Alec had often drifted when she became emotional about what she discussed.

  “That’s a hard thing to take when you’re a teenager,” he said.

  “No kidding. When I went to high school that fall, people had already heard about my parents. By then I’d already lost a few friends—people I thought would support me. No deal. Their parents didn’t want them under my influence. That next year was…difficult.”

  “You went to school here in Clarksville?”

  “Yes.”

  Understanding filled his expression. “You’re brave to come back. Are some of the people who gave you a hard time still here in town?”

  “I don’t know, and I don’t much care.”

  His lips curled upward. “Good. What’s that old saying? Don’t let the bastards get you down?”

  “That’s the one. It became my motto in life.”

  Jake’s eyes filled with honest compassion for what had happened. “It must have felt like a lifetime would go by before it all blew over.”

  “Gradually, people went on to other scandals. They didn’t discuss my family as much, but we were still shunned. My parents moved to Florida after I graduated from high school. I’ve wondered more than once if I’d moved to Florida earlier—moved anywhere away from Clarksville—if maybe I could have enjoyed my high school years more.” She smirked. “Or maybe I would have experienced other teen angst.”

  “It’s something we all go through, but it sounds like you had a double dose of the nasty stuff.”

  She nodded, then brought her water to her lips for a long swallow. The ice water bathed her aching throat—emotions from long ago clogged and choked her. She shoved them back in the past where they belonged.

  “Hey, this isn’t a poor-me discussion. I’m sorry,” she said.

  “Don’t be sorry. I want to hear more.”

  She shook her head. “I got over it.”

  “Did you? Everyone has baggage. No one escapes through life without it, I don’t care what they say.”

  “I’m not telling any more baggage unless you confess some of yours.” She injected a challenging tone.

  “You sure you want to hear it?”

  “Why not? If this is confession one-oh-one, I’m still awake.”

  Jake put his hands up in surrender. “As I mentioned before, I’m big brother to Sarah, Stacey, Flora, Alice, and Leanne. My parents are retired and live in a cabin near Estes Park, Colorado.”

  “Oh, I love Estes Park.”

  “So do I. I go there as often as I can. Which hasn’t been much in the last few years. Not as much as I’d like.”

  “But you said you get to see your sisters.”

  “Fairly often. They’ve got pretty crazy careers some of them, but we try to get together for holidays and during the summer. It doesn’t work all the time, but we do our best. Sarah is in the Army and Stacey is in the Navy. Both fly helicopters.”

  She beamed at him. “That’s fantastic. So the military is heavy duty in your family.”

  “Pretty much. My father served in Vietnam and so did my mother. She was an Army nurse.”

  “Did they meet during the war?”

  “Not until after.”

  “They must have stories to tell.”

  He gazed at the table, then back up at her. “They don’t talk about the war much. Not even when they’re asked. My mother has wrestled with post traumatic stress disorder for years.”

  Marisa believed she understood. She looked him straight in the eye. “I’ve felt strange since we got back from Mexico.”

  “Strange? As in bad dreams?”

  “A couple. Nothing terribly dramatic.” She frowned, hoping that he wouldn’t find her confession evidence she was a wimp. “Things just startle me more than they should.”

  “That’s natural.” He put his hand over her forearm and squeezed gently before releasing her. “You haven’t talked much about what happened in Mexico, have you? To anyone? If you need me, I can help.”

  “No.” She didn’t know if she wanted to bring out what happened, the things that weren’t obvious, into the open. “But how could you help? It’s something I can clear up on my own.”

  “You’re sure about that?”

  Conviction ran through her. “Yes.”

  He looked thoughtful and doubtful at the same time. “I had a mission a few years back that was pretty damned hairy. Left me feeling too edgy for a while. I saw a professional right away and after working with him, I felt much better.”

  His eyes assessed her without judgment, and right in that moment she believed she could tell him more about what happened during the twenty-four hours of hell in Mexico.

  She sighed and leaned back into the booth, resting her head on the cushioning and closing her eyes. “I sometimes kick myself over the whole Mexico trip thing.”

  “Why?”

  She kept her eyes closed, and a nasty reminder of the bad ass Ramon popped into her head. “Because I didn’t pay attention when I got on the bus the first time. I didn’t notice there was no radio.”

  “Don’t beat yourself up. Few people would have noticed that. Besides, you’d think they’d have cell phones. They did it on the cheap.”

  She groaned. “That’s for sure.” She shivered and opened her eyes. “I’d rather talk more about your family.”

  His mouth tilted up on one side in a wry expression. “Okay, what do you want to know?”

  “More about your sisters.”

  Jake scrubbed one hand across his jaw. “Flora is married and has two kids and is a stay at home mom. Alice is a professional photographer and she’s engaged. I’m heading out for her wedding in September. Leanne is busy getting her Bachelors in Nursing.”

  She reached for her water and finished it off. “Your two sisters who fly helicopters aren’t married, are they?”

  “No. How did you guess?”

  “Deduction. There are plenty of men who won’t marry a woman in the military if her job takes her away too often.”

  “Do you think that’s a good thing? That they aren’t married?”

  She shrugged, wrestling with feelings she’d battled for three years. “Maybe. Maybe not. Having a relationship with someone in the military isn’t easy. As you found out.”

  He tilted his head to the side. “Is that what you believe? That it’s the military that makes it difficult?”

  “Yes. There’s too much danger, travel and hardship for families. It just isn’t worth it.”

  His gaze hardened, and she felt a smidgen of satisfaction. Maybe he’d see now that he shouldn’t expend energy on her. Getting involved with her wouldn’t be a good idea.

  “Even though plenty of other occupations involve travel, danger, and hardship,” he said.

  “Of course, but…” She drifted, uncertain how to defend her position other than with the experiences she’d had with Alec. “You have an extraordinary family to support you.”

  “They have their moments. We’re pretty damn well-adjusted, though. We’re not even fashionably dysfunctional.”

  “Are you sure? I thought every family was dysfunctional.”

  His irreverent grin added to the twinkle l
ighting his eyes. “We rate right up there with wonderfully functional.”

  “That’s refreshing. What was your high school life like?”

  He shifted sideways, and his thigh bumped hers. She sucked in a breath and realized that talking about mundane life events didn’t keep her from feeling a sizzling attraction at his every touch.

  “High school was average I guess. I loved football but couldn’t get on the varsity. I was big enough and pumped iron, but our football coach didn’t believe in sharing the field with kids who weren’t his top performers. A hell of a lot of us spent time on the bench. He told me I was good, but not that good.”

  A pang of understanding made her say, “That must have been really disappointing.”

  “Damned disappointing. My parents tried to get me through it, but I was pissed at myself for not being good enough to play and pissed at the coach for not letting me play.”

  “Did you play in college?”

  “No. I went into the military at eighteen. I did squeeze in my Bachelors in Business, but it took me six years. Had too many military exercises. Then I trained to be 180 Alpha which is a Warrant Officer MOS. A lot of people don’t realize we’re officers and not enlisted.”

  She knew enough about MOS’s, military occupational specialties. Her time around Alec had educated her.

  “And you’re now a Chief Warrant Officer three?” she asked.

  “That’s right.”

  “And you’ve never regretted going the Special Forces route?”

  “Hell, no. It’s been fantastic. I love it.”

  His statement blurred the lines for her. Could she care about a man who loved a job that put him in such danger? After what she’d suffered with Alec?

  Silence enveloped them, and that’s when she decided she should cut the conversation short and head to her apartment. “I’m tired, Jake. Since we’re all locked up, I’m saying goodnight. It was great talking to you.”

  He seemed amenable enough to finishing the conversation, and when he smiled at her, heat still curled low in her loins.

  “About earlier,” he said, “when we kissed…I won’t be coy and I hope you won’t either. I’ve never been shy about much in my life. I won’t pretend I don’t want to kiss you again, but I can see you’re apprehensive about it. For that reason, I won’t kiss you again until you ask me to, or until you kiss me.”