Forgive & Forget (Love in the Fleet)

by Ashby, Heather

  He stood up and that’s when she saw he was clearly six-foot-three. “Tomorrow’s fine. Feel free to come up and see me anytime, McCabe. Just call ahead. Keep up the good work on the news.” And then looking her right in the eye and smiling one more time, he said, “If there’s ever anything you need, you know where I am. Carry on.”

  It hit her like a ton of bricks just as she reached the door. Out of the blue. As if a voice whispered in her ear. Philip had never called Sky anything but “Sky,” although it wasn’t his given name. It seemed everybody in the Navy had a nickname, especially aviators. So maybe?

  “Excuse me, sir, but I have one more question for you, if you don’t mind.”

  “Shoot.”

  “What was your call sign when you flew F-14’s? Pilots always have interesting call signs, usually with a funny story behind them. Care to share?”

  Captain Amerson laughed. “Well, now that is an embarrassing story, and no, I don’t care to share its origins with you. But since my call sign is probably well known within the air wing, I guess I can share it with you. It’s ‘Ricochet.’”

  Rick O’Shea.

  My big, strong Irishman.

  Game. Point. Match.

  Chapter 19

  Philip folded her in his arms again. “You’re going to make one hell of an investigative reporter.” He’d only interrupted her twice. When the CO called her by her first name and when he said that he was enjoying watching her.

  But damn if Philip wasn’t proud of her for calling him out on both occasions. Hallie had never told him her mom’s line about having a daughter with balls and he thought it described her perfectly. And John Paul Jones? Only Hallie could find humor in a situation like that. Hallie McCabe could take care of herself. Another reason he loved her so much.

  But her bravado was fading fast and he saw the pain return to her face. “I held it together while I was in there, but once I left I fell apart.”

  Hallie had wanted to vomit. Her own father flirting with her. Wasn’t verifying that he was her father bad enough? But to have him come on to her like that. She ducked into the nearest female head and did vomit, until there was nothing left. Then she shut the door and sobbed against the bulkhead. Shock had turned to pain and then to anger. The son of a bitch! All she could think about was taking a shower. He’d made her skin crawl.

  Knowing her chief wouldn’t know how long she’d be with the CO, Hallie cleaned herself up, went back to her quarters, stumbled into the head there, and dry heaved. Gasping and choking and crying. There wasn’t even a place where she could go and have some privacy to deal with this. Hallie stripped off her clothes and climbed into the shower.

  Immersing herself in warm water, she wished for her mother. She was torn between the loneliness of missing her and the hatred she felt for her mom ever being with that man. Hallie cried with the anguish of knowing the Captain was Rick and then she doubled over with the emotional pain that he’d been so familiar with her. With those eyes. Her eyes. All the longings of wanting a dad in her life caused her to crumple to the deck, when she thought about Captain Amerson being that man.

  But wait. Rick wasn’t her dad. Her mother had been right. Rick was a bastard.

  The water turned cold, letting her know two minutes were up. Reality reared its ugly head. All she wanted to do was to dry off and go crawl into her rack. Curl up into a ball and never get up. In a perfect world, she’d curl up in Philip’s arms and let him rock her while she cried.

  Not make love. Just cry. And rock. And he’d understand. He wouldn’t ask her anything. He wouldn’t ask for anything. He’d just hold her. And soothe her. Because that’s the kind of man he was. A real man. A man she could count on. But she couldn’t go to him. He wasn’t a part of her life anymore and that was her own fault.

  And she couldn’t climb into her rack either. She had a show to broadcast in three hours. And she had work to do. First she had to clean herself up and then she had a few things she was planning to say on tonight’s show. Trying to pretend she wasn’t on the verge of a panic attack wasn’t going to be easy, but as Philip had said, she was pretty good at pretending. So Hallie pulled herself together.

  Dressing in a clean uniform, she dried her hair and put on make-up. The very thought of Captain Amerson “enjoying watching her” on the TV made her stomach cramp up all over again.

  “Okay, Mom. He beat each of us once, but he’s not going to beat us again.”

  It was all Philip could do to restrain himself, both from wanting to kill the CO and wanting to kiss Hallie. But he just stood there with his arms around her, whispering endearing words, swirling comforting strokes up and down her back. Holding her close and letting her cry. She clutched him like a lifeline. His heart swelled and surely it would burst with how good it felt to have her in his arms again.

  Hallie raised her head to look at him through her tears and then grabbed him around the neck, pulled his mouth to hers, and kissed him hard and rough, taking away all his restraint. She whimpered and moaned at the same time. A cross between pain and desire. He hadn’t kissed her in weeks, since the night she’d told him goodbye, and he had his own pain to exorcise.

  This kiss was not their usual. Neither slow, nor deep. It was shallow and hungry and ruthless. Their hands were all over each other, demanding and greedy. His massaging her breasts, hers now in his back pockets, cupping his ass, bringing him closer to her. And still their kiss went on.

  They tried to climb inside of each other and be one soul again.

  Philip backed her against the door and writhed against her. And with her. Angry, demanding, ceaseless. All the pent-up tensions of the past month crying for release.

  Frustration tore at him trying to feel her breasts through the thick pockets of her aquaflage. He slid his hands up under her shirt, ripping her T-shirt from the waist of her uniform pants.

  His hands glided up her smooth stomach until they found her lace-covered breasts. He massaged them roughly, then caught himself, slowed down, and settled for stroking her nipples with the pads of this thumbs. Moans escaped from her mouth into his and he sucked them down to blend with his own sounds.

  He unclasped her bra in the front and was nearly brought to his knees when her breasts spilled into his waiting hands. But it wasn’t nearly good enough. He needed to have his mouth on her, to feel her heat and taste her skin.

  His hips continued to grind Hallie into the bulkhead and Hallie ground right back. He slipped his hands out to unbutton her shirt, mouth plundering hers, while his nimble fingers worked. Philip pulled her shirt apart and pulled up her T-shirt, his mouth zeroing in on a nipple. Suckling, his groans mingled with her quiet moans.

  Philip didn’t know what they were going to do or how they were going to do it, but his primal brain told him he needed to make her his own once again.

  He returned to her mouth, his hands making love to her breasts. Hallie reached for the zipper on his coveralls, her other hand stroking him through the fabric. A jolt of fire slammed into him and he practically went through the steel overhead.

  Too impatient to fiddle with snaps and zippers and thankful for the elastic waist in aquaflage pants, Philip hooked his thumbs in Hallie’s belt loops and yanked her pants halfway to her knees in one swift motion.

  She grabbed for them. “No!” she whisper-cried. “We can’t do this!”

  He jerked away from her, turned, and placed his hands flat on the bulkhead, gulping in air. “You’re right. I’m sorry I…”

  Hallie pulled her uniform pants back up, reached under her T-shirt to hook her bra. “No, it’s my fault, Philip. I’m sorry I started that.” She tucked her T-shirt in, started buttoning her shirt. “I want you so much, but there’s no way we can do this.”

  He rested his head against the cool, gray steel and tried in vain to catch his breath.

  “Do you
have any idea what could happen to you if…”

  “Me? Not just me, Hallie. We’ve got your career to think about too.” He sucked in a deep breath and blew it out again. “I’ve just missed you so damn much.”

  “You have?” Hallie finished buttoning her shirt, finger-combed her hair.

  He turned just his head and looked at her in disbelief, his hands still leaning against the bulkhead. “Oh, God, are you kidding? You don’t know how hard it’s been to see you and not be able to be with you. To hold you.”

  “To talk to me? To write to me? To let me know if there’s a chance for us?” she added pleadingly.

  “I’m sorry I’ve been acting like such an ass.”

  “No. You had every right after what I did. But I’ve been so afraid that you’ll never forgive me. I love you so much, Philip.” She tried to hug him, but he took her by her forearms and kept her at a distance.

  “Hallie, I was angry at you, but I never stopped loving you. I know you got in over your head and then you were trying to protect me. And you were right. I probably would have walked away if you’d told me the truth in the beginning. But I honest to God cannot imagine living my life without you. I’m sorry.”

  “I just need to know there’s a chance we can be together again. Maybe not now, but in the future. When the cruise is over. When I get out of the Navy. When it’s safe. I’ll be fine as long as I know there’s a chance.”

  Philip melted. “Look, we’re pulling into Port Said in a few days. We’ll get off the ship and go somewhere. We can talk about us and Rick and what we’re going to do about everything. Because we can’t meet like this. I’m sorry things got out of hand. And anyway, I suppose sex isn’t necessarily the best antidote for being harassed or hit on. Can you hold on for a couple days and then we’ll meet and talk?”

  “Yes. Thank you.”

  “Don’t do anything until then, except to stay clear of the CO. If that son of a bitch comes near you, call me on my brick. I mean it. Radio me. Don’t email me. Don’t send a note. Call me. I’ll be there.”

  “I have to go back up there tomorrow to film the segment.”

  “No way. You stay away from him.”

  “I’ll be okay. I’ll have James Hall, my cameraman, with me, and I’ll ask Lieutenant Latimer to go too. Besides,” She raised an amused eyebrow. “If he tries anything, I’ll just ask him to tell me if he knew an AG2 Suzanne Chandler in Atsugi in 1986.” A trace of humor lit her eyes. “And I’ll have his response on film. Don’t worry. I can take care of myself.”

  “Okay. But I’d rather you didn’t go anywhere alone on this ship anymore. I’d prefer you have someone you trust with you always. You don’t hear the kinds of things I hear. Just sit on everything until we get to Egypt. Can you do that? Can you keep this Rick thing under your hat until then? We’ll meet somewhere in town, so we can talk and I can hold you and love you. Will you be okay until we can meet?”

  “I will now.” She smiled a gentle, trembling smile. “All I needed to know is that you still love me.” Her blue eyes took on an inner glow.

  He wanted to kiss her so badly. His eyes dropped to her lips, but he forced them back to her waiting eyes. “I do love you, Hallie. By the way, in the future, don’t send a guy you had unprotected sex with a month ago an urgent email saying ‘Something horrible has happened. Story at 2130.’ Okay?” He rolled his eyes, a wry edge to his mouth.

  “What?”

  “Hallie. I thought you were pregnant.”

  “Pregnant? We’ve never had unprotected sex. I would never do that. Look how I came to be.”

  “From my point of view, it could very well have been unprotected. Please understand where I’m coming from. That’s all I’m asking.”

  Hallie winced. “Ouch. Weird trust issues?”

  “Something like that.”

  “I’m so sorry,” Hallie said.

  “I know. It’s all right now, but you scared the crap out of me. Okay, write me tomorrow and tell me how the filming went. Call me right away if you need me. I mean it. Just remember that the phones are non-secure lines. And no more emails. Oh, and promise me Trixie knows nothing about us.”

  “Nothing. Just that I have a boyfriend back home.”

  “I assumed so because she wouldn’t be able to keep a secret if she knew about us, but we need to talk about a lot of things in Egypt. Okay?”

  This time when he hugged her he held the embrace, but he didn’t kiss her. He knew better. Philip leaned away from her and pulled down the golden tendril, playing with it.

  “Don’t worry. Everything’s going to be okay. I promise. And Hallie? Remember. I love you.” He kissed her on the forehead, cracked the door, scanned the passageway, patted her on the bottom, and sent her out.

  Philip couldn’t believe what they’d almost done. What had she said? “You stripped away my ability to reason?” Well, she sure as shit had stripped away his tonight. And then he thought about why she’d contacted him. The son of a bitch had hit on her. Maybe he hadn’t thought he did, but if he made Hallie uncomfortable, then he had. Philip wanted to strangle him. Hallie. His Hallie. The fucking CO of the ship. And he was her father. Not that he knew it, of course, but the reason he didn’t was because he was a prick.

  Philip had always thought Amerson was a slick guy. Probably smart too. He knew just how much he could get away with before she filed a harassment complaint against him. He had no business meeting with her in his cabin alone. But he’d probably planned it that way.

  But, oh, how good it had felt to hold her. Hallie, back in his arms again. Her body. Her breasts. Her lips. Her. He’d missed her so much and he wanted her so badly. He’d never get to sleep tonight thinking about her stroking him.

  Thank God she’d had the presence of mind to stop them. If they’d gotten caught, not only would there have been severe consequences for him, but he doubted CNN would want to know she’d gone to Captain’s Mast for frigging in the rigging when she was in the Navy.

  And then all his anger and desire dissolved into humor. First he grinned like a fool, then he shook with laughter that echoed off the bulkheads. All tension drained from him when he realized a fan room on a Navy ship would definitely not be a good place to have illicit sex with a screamer.

  Chapter 20

  “Ramadan is a time of fasting—refraining from eating, drinking, smoking, or having sexual relations from sun-up to sun-down from the new moon of the ninth month in the Muslim calendar until the new moon on Eid al Fitr.”

  Rashid pushed his tray aside, food unfinished, to focus on McCabe’s broadcast. He didn’t give two hoots in hell about Ramadan, but he did feel a certain rush whenever he watched McCabe. It wasn’t exactly sexual energy, but it was just as potent.

  Maybe it was the fact that he held her pretty-girl life in his hands?

  “Fasting is meant to teach Muslims patience, humility, appreciation, and spirituality. The devout are expected to show their devotion through self-restraint and good deeds. Not only by fasting, but also by saying extra prayers and helping those less fortunate.”

  He wondered if Ibrahim was observing Ramadan back in Jacksonville. Must be hard with the punks walking around with their sodas and the smells from the food court wafting into the kiosks. And he was pretty sure Ibrahim was a smoker. That would make for a long day too.

  McCabe smiled at the camera. “The faithful begin observing Ramadan at puberty. Children are exempt, although many practice a scaled-down version. The elderly, pregnant and nursing mothers, and those who are chronically or mentally ill are exempt.”

  Would his sadiqs qualify as mentally ill? There was a fine line between fanaticism and mental illness—if there was one at all. Some might say he was mentally ill, plotting what he was about to do to the ship. But he disagreed.

  His heart thudded when he found himself finally able
to put it into words. Sometimes people just needed to take justice into their own hands.

  Ibrahim had shared some inside stories of Ramadan. Because the date changed by eleven days every year, it occurred at different times in the solar calendar year. Winter wasn’t a problem. It was easy to go without water during the daylight hours in winter. But when it occurred in summer, like it did this year, it was very difficult. And he’d said some people were so devout they not only abstained from drinking water, but refused to swallow their own spit all day too.

  Crazy ragheads.

  It was supposed to teach people what it felt like to do without, but Ibrahim said the well-to-do played the system and slept all day, rising at sunset for Maghrib prayer, and then spending the nights eating, drinking, and making merry. Didn’t sound like much of a religious sacrifice to Rashid. The fuckers at the bottom of the food chain had to endure the heat and go without water from dawn to dusk. Just like back in the States, life sucked for the poor man.

  “The word, Ramadan, came from the words, ramida or ar-ramad, meaning intense heat or scorched earth and shortness of food. The daily deprivation humbles the people and reminds them of those less fortunate, who do not have enough food or water. Water being more important even than food to those living in a desert-type environment.”

  Rashi smiled at the thought of the Muslims on board the Blanchard, some even observing Ramadan. They were quiet, pleasant, decent guys and girls. Probably what the majority of Muslims were like. But he bet security followed their asses twenty-four seven, at a distance of course. Wouldn’t want to be accused of racial profiling.