Men In Uniform Anthology

by Delilah Devlin

  “Damn straight it does. It was dirty and raw and probably the best sex I’ve ever had.” He let his hands slide down over the curve of her backside. Perfect. He pulled her tighter against him, smiling as he said, “Wanna do it again? I’m almost reloaded.”

  A flush came to her cheeks, and she buried her face in his neck. “Steve!”

  “What? I am.” He squeezed her ass. “Christ, you’re fucking hot, baby. Don’t you know that?”

  “Well, now I think you’re delirious from your happy ending.”

  “I’m not. I mean, I am, but not entirely.” He nuzzled her. She smelled of orchids and sex, and where he’d been teasing her at first, now he felt the renewed tingles of desire. They aligned perfectly, and that fluff of dark blonde hair, the delicate warmth of her against him, brought him to life. Christ, he didn’t want to leave.

  No, that wasn’t entirely true.

  “Come with me to North Bend,” he found himself whispering. “I want to do this every night with you. To wake up like this every morning with you.”

  “What?” She lifted her head, her green eyes clouded with confusion.

  “I know, it sounds crazy, right?” He reached up to trail his fingers through her hair, drawing a long blonde curl away from her face to tuck behind her right ear. “But this feels right, Ren. For the first time in months, something feels right to me.”

  He tried to pull her down to meet his lips, but she resisted, sliding off him as she murmured, “Steve, wait…”

  “Wait? For what?” His gut kinked. Somehow, he had the feeling he wasn’t going to like what she was going to say.

  “Where do you see this going?”

  “Where do I—wait a minute…” He sat up as she scooted to the very edge of the bed. “Where do you see this going?”

  She peered at him over her shoulder and shook her head. “I don’t,” she told him softly. “I mean, last night was fun. This,” she gestured to the disheveled bed, “was incredible. I needed it. I think you did as well, and while I’m glad you made it to the memorial, this is it.”

  “What?” He stared at her, wondering if maybe he wasn’t still asleep and this was all some fucked-up dream. “Hold on, isn’t it supposed to be the other way around, with me thinking of this as a one-night fling and you reading too much into it?”

  “That’s not funny.”

  “I’m not trying to be funny,” he told her, biting back a groan as she rose from the bed. Damn, if he thought she was beautiful in the half light, that was nothing compared to her at dawn, in all her glory. True, she was in great shape, but one part of her caught his attention—her stomach. It wasn’t perfectly flat, which gave him the wildest urge to leaned in and kiss his way from one hip to the other. She was beautiful, and that was that. “I thought we had something going here, Lauren. It seemed like it last summer. It sure as shit seemed like it a few minutes ago.”

  “We did, but now we don’t.” She crouched to fish her lingerie and underwear from the floor, wrinkling her nose at the thong in her hand. “Ugh, no. I’ll go commando.”

  The thought of her commando under the black jersey dress was almost enough to make him groan again, but he was a little too irritated to give into it. “We did, but now we don’t? What the fuck kind of answer is that?”

  “I can’t.” She eased on her bra and tugged the silk jersey over her head. It floated down to skim her curves. “I can’t…not now…”

  “Why?”

  “Because if something happened to you, I don’t think I could stand it. I just couldn’t.”

  “Nothing’s going to happen to me.” He kicked back the covers to stand, then marched to his suitcase to dig through it. He didn’t give a damn that he was naked, that the room was cold, or that it might not show him in the most positive light.

  “Mark thought the same thing. You guys have to tell yourselves that or else you’d never jump into that water.”

  He yanked on a pair of black boxer briefs, then turned back to her. “I know what I have to tell myself. I do it every damn time I make that jump. But it’s what I do, Lauren.”

  “I know,” she said, tucking a thick gold lock behind one ear. “And that’s the problem.”

  “So you’re saying you can’t be with me because I’m not quitting my job?”

  She shook her head, not looking any happier than he felt. “I wouldn’t ask you to quit. But I can’t be with you, either. Not for anything more than this.”

  “Than this.”

  “Somehow, I’m pretty sure I’m not the first woman you’ve spent only one night with.” She let out a dry, humorless laugh. “I find that hard to believe.”

  “No, you’re not, but you’re also not like anyone else.”

  She leveled a long look at him. “How do you figure?”

  “I—I…you just aren’t, okay?” He dragged one hand through his hair. His scalp felt itchy. His teeth felt fuzzy. All he wanted to do was brush his teeth, then pull her into a steaming hot shower with him until his legs threatened to collapse. That was it, and really, was it so much to ask? “You just aren’t.”

  “Why? Because I’m Mark’s sister?” She rolled her eyes. “If my last name wasn’t McKuen, you’d be out that door thanking God I wasn’t hanging all over you, demanding to know what I am to you. You’d be breathing a sigh of relief that one night was all I wanted from you.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  “The hell I don’t. I’m not stupid or blind, Steve.” She faced him, hands on her hips. She looked tired, but that wasn’t all. It took him a moment, but then he wanted to kick himself. He knew that expression, knew what it meant. It was the same emotion that made him dive into the nearest bottle rather than face it head on.

  Sorrow.

  “But?”

  “But I’m not naïve enough to think you’re about to declare some weird-ass undying love for me because we fucked each other.”

  “Well, that’s a load off my mind, since I was about to fall on one knee and beg you to marry me. Thank Christ you kept me from making a complete jackass of myself.” He stormed into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him.

  He brushed his teeth so hard, he thought he might have actually ground off some of the enamel, but by the time he spat a mouthful of toothpaste into the sink, he’d calmed down some. His invitation came as much of a surprise to him as it had to her, but for some reason, it felt right.

  Her reason for keeping her distance was perfectly valid, if aggravating. He certainly couldn’t fault her, and unlike some women he’d dated, she didn’t expect him to give up his career, either. He smiled. She was the first one who really did understand him. Mark told him she wasn’t like any of the girls he’d dated before. He’d told him how Lauren just got it. Now, Steve saw it for himself. She did get it. She absolutely got it.

  Hopefully, she didn’t expect him to give up on her, either.

  He rinsed his toothbrush, got the shower going, and opened the bathroom door, determined to seduce the hell out of her if necessary to get her to join him.

  Lauren was gone.

  Her purse was no longer on the table. Her shoes were no longer by the door. Not one article of clothing he’d tugged out of his way, from her dress, to her bra and thong, to her garter belt and stockings, lay anywhere in sight.

  It was as if she never existed and last night never happened.

  Well, fuck. Damn if he was going to chase her down. He didn’t chase any woman. They chased him, and he’d be damned if he’d start chasing now.

  Yeah. Sure he wouldn’t.

  Irritation flared in his gut. He’d chase, but after he showered and dressed in his second set of dress blues. Then he made his way to the front office to check out. “Did a woman come in here about an hour ago? Maybe five-two, blonde hair, smoking hot, in a black dress?” he asked the older man working the desk.

  “She certainly did. Hal McKuen’s girl, right? You better hope he don’t mind you shacking up with her for the night.”

  S
hacking up. Steve managed to refrain from rolling his eyes and even managed to smile, tapping his credit card on the countertop. “Yes, sir.”

  “She called for an Uber. Car showed up, and she got in.” The old man gave him a long look. “You in the Air Force?”

  “Coast Guard. Out of Cape Cod.”

  “Here for Mark’s memorial, were you? I heard quite a few people showed up for it.”

  Steve nodded, ignoring the pang in his gut. “He and I served in the same unit.”

  “Did you now?” The man waited for Steve to nod, which he did, then said, “Damn shame what happened to him. Were you there? The night he died, I mean.”

  Steve fought off a wince, even managed to hold the old man’s stare. “I was, sir.”

  “Lauren said you two saved six people that night. I always knew that boy would do good.”

  “He did, sir. He was a hero.”

  The old man’s eyes narrowed slightly. “You watch yourself with Lauren. She’s a good girl.”

  “I know. I’m trying to win her over.” Steve didn’t know why he spilled his guts like that. The words just came out on their own. “She’s not so easily won.”

  “Patience,” the old man told him, “that’s the key. You young people are always in a hurry. Take your time and stay away from roadside motor inns until after you marry her.”

  Steve had the good grace to grin sheepishly. “Sometimes the moment gets you.”

  “Yeah, I know all about that. You ready to check out?”

  “Yes, sir. It’s a long drive to Newark.”

  “Newark?” The old man punched something into his computer. “You flying back to Cape Cod tonight? That’ll be forty-eight sixty.”

  Steve handed over his American Express card and shook his head. “Flying to Oregon, actually.”

  “Oregon?” The man’s bushy gray brows shot up as he swiped the credit card. “Why?”

  “I’ve been transferred.” And that left him only a few hours to try to convince Lauren she was making the mistake of her life.

  Chapter Four

  Pop stood in the doorway, arms folded, expression serious. “You okay, Ren?”

  “I’m fine, Pop. Why?”

  “Normally, when one only gets home at seven in the morning, they spend a good portion of the morning sleeping. Guess last night didn’t quite go as you hoped?”

  “Pop!”

  “What? I wasn’t always an old geezer, you know. It was good to see Steve last night. I’m glad he could make it.”

  She looked up from where she sat at the end of her bed, tugging on one of her white Converse Chuck Taylors. “He asked me to go to Oregon with him.”

  “Damn, that boy works fast.”

  She fought back a sigh as she stood and moved to the dresser to pick up her pink and black Timex sport watch. Sundays were usually her day off, but Danny called and asked if she could cover Amanda’s shift. Sundays meant time and a half, so she jumped at it. Personal training was fulfilling, but the pay wasn’t the greatest, so any opportunity to score a few more hours was well worth the inconvenience of giving up a day off.

  “Pop.”

  “What? Mark told me Steve was interested in you. And has been for some time.”

  “What?”

  He nodded. “Last time I talked to him, right before…” He winced and cleared his throat. “Before his accident. He said Steve was driving him nuts, pestering him about you.”

  “He was?” She had no idea Steve had asked Mark anything about her. He struck her as the kind of guy who liked to flirt, who liked to fool around, and who’d rather be gone by the time the sun rose. Like Mark. Mark took everything seriously, except women. Steve seemed to be the same way, and she’d thought so ever since the first time Mark brought him home.

  “Yeah, he was, Ren. Mark was planning on bringing him back at Christmas, unless Steve hounded him into coming home sooner.” Pop unfolded his arms and came into the small room, moving to sink onto the bed beside her. “I thought you liked him. You sure seemed to glow last night when he finally showed up.”

  Glow? No. She didn’t glow, did she? That was stupid, and besides, that never happened in real life, only in romance novels, right? “I was glad to see him is all.”

  “He seemed nervous when you brought him over.”

  She glanced over at her grandfather. He’d visibly aged since Mark’s death—the lines around his eyes and mouth heavier. Heavier and deeper. His hair was now completely white. His losses ran just as deep, left their marks on him, and as she leaned her head against his shoulder, she realized how much bonier it seemed. He’d never been a large man, and the farm did more to keep him in shape than any gym ever could. It was therapy for him as well.

  But now he seemed a little more frail, and she tried to ignore the flutter of concern in the pit of her belly. Time finally caught up to him. If anything happened to Pop—

  No. She couldn’t even think about that now. Looking back up at him, she said, “He was nervous.”

  “Why?”

  “He was afraid you’d blame him for Mark…for Mark…” Her throat closed without warning. She couldn’t bring herself to say it so lamely finished with, “For what happened.”

  “Why on earth would he think that?”

  “He blames himself.”

  “Blames himself?” Pop shifted to face her. “Why?”

  “Because he didn’t go back for him.” She dropped her gaze to the moss-green duvet on her bed, tracing the stitching with one finger. “Commander Shaw told me Steve tried to find him. He stayed in that water, in pain and exhausted, until he had no choice but to let them bring him up.”

  “It wasn’t his fault, Rennie,” Pop murmured, his somewhat gnarled hand coming to rest on her knee. “Don’t blame him. It was terrible luck.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t. I don’t blame him at all, Pop.” She looked up to meet his serious, dark-eyed stare. “And I haven’t since the beginning.”

  “Then why did you tell him no? And don’t tell me you didn’t, because I know that tone of voice, and that sentence would’ve ended, but I told him no.”

  Her throat tightened again. “I can’t.”

  “Why? They don’t need personal trainers in Oregon?”

  “Pop.”

  “What? You like him, doncha? You sure as hell liked him enough to spend the night with him, and don’t even try to feed me some bullshit nonsense like he slept on the floor, because I’m old, but I ain’t lost enough of my marbles to believe that for a second. And you’re red, so—”

  She rolled her eyes so hard, she was sure she pulled a muscle. “I’m red because this is not a conversation I have ever wanted to have with you.”

  “Even still, it’s not like there’s anything amazing to keep you here. I’ll be fine, as long as the boys don’t up and quit on me. So go. Live a little, honey. He’s a nice boy. Go.”

  “He’s a rescue swimmer, and after Mark, I—I can’t.”

  “Lauren, listen to me.” Pop shifted to face her completely, his gnarled hand coming to rest on hers. “Don’t be a fool. What happened to Mark was an accident. Terrible timing and a series of equally terrible factors. Don’t let what happened to him haunt you. If Steve makes you happy, let him make you happy for as long as possible. If you don’t, trust me, you will regret it for the rest of your life, and you don’t want that.”

  “But what if something—what if this—happens to him?”

  “And what if it doesn’t?”

  “But what if it does?”

  “And what if it doesn’t?”

  “Pop!” She couldn’t keep the exasperation out of her voice. “You’re not helping at all.”

  Now it was Pop’s turn to roll his eyes. “Why? Because I won’t let you hide because you’re scared? Damn straight, I’m not helping. You will hate yourself one day, Lauren, and you know it.” The bed shifted as he got to his feet. “Don’t be an idiot and a coward. And don’t use Mark’s death as your reason to be an idiot and
a coward and as an excuse to hide away from men. He’d be plenty pissed if he knew you were, and I wouldn’t blame him.”

  She could only stare at him in shock. She couldn’t remember the last time Pop actually scolded her over something. Not even in her rebellious teen years did he snap at her that way or tell her she was a coward.

  He didn’t wait to see if she had anything to say back but stalked from the room, slamming the door hard enough something in the hallway crashed. The still life painting of the old barn that Nan had done back in the barn’s heyday was most likely the victim. It hung on the wall between her room and what had been Mark’s bedroom when they were kids. Now it was only a guest room, made up for company that they almost never had.

  Lauren glanced at her bedside clock, and her heart sank. It was nearly eleven thirty. Steve had no doubt checked out of the motel and was probably halfway to Newark by now. And Danny expected her for noon. It was too late to change her mind. Too late to listen to her heart instead.

  Damn it, she was an idiot. Those hours spent with Steve—both in bed and out of it—were the happiest she’d had since before Mark died. When she thought about it, some of the happiest times of her life were when Mark brought Steve home and the three of them hung out together. When they left, she missed Steve as much as she missed Mark—more even, if she was completely honest. That was why her unanswered texts hurt the way they did. Steve obviously didn’t miss her.

  But then again, he also thought she blamed him for what happened to her brother.

  With a low groan, she got to her feet and picked her gym bag up from her vanity bench. Communication. Her weakness. If only she and Pop had this talk before Steve came to Sidleburg.

  If only.

  Christ, she hated those two words.

  …

  The gym was fairly crowded for a Sunday afternoon, but she managed to find a parking spot in the main lot instead of the crater-filled side lot.

  She slung the bag’s shoulder strap over her shoulder, locked her Jeep, and made her way inside to find Riordan waiting for her in the stretching area, a small section of rubberized floor away from the free weights and machines, with foam rollers and mats instead.