Like a Good Wife (Oahu Naval Officers Book 2)

by Drea Braddock

  It hasn’t been all amazing sex and emotional connections. First thing Monday morning, Nalani went to get the BRCA test done. We won’t know the results for three weeks and I’m trying not to let the worry eat at me. She doesn’t want to talk about it. At all. She says there’s no use borrowing trouble, but I’m familiar with the saying and it doesn’t completely apply here. I agree with the sentiment, but she’s avoiding thinking about it more because she doesn’t like dealing with unpleasant things. I know how important keeping the peace is to her. I’ll let her ignore things. For now. Meanwhile, I’m doing as much research as I possibly can. It’s still early days and I don’t know how much she’s going to be willing to share with me. But I can’t bear to not know what’s happening with her. I need to be ready in case she needs me. For when she needs me.

  I’m at my old place, finishing working out with K. Jameson is helping Everett Dawes move into Nikki’s old room. She and her boyfriend are taking mine and Norah’s old room. I’m glad they’ve found roommates to replace us. At least this way we’re all still close. K and I are using my squat rack and weights in the old carport. I need to talk to Nalani, figure out if I should move it to our place or keep it here. Right as I’m thinking about her, she texts me.

  Darlin: I got a last-minute call out to tune a piano at a church in Aiea before a funeral tomorrow. I probably won’t make it home for another 90 minutes or more.

  Me: Ok, thanks for the heads up

  Darlin: Want me to bring dinner home?

  Me: Sure! Whatever sounds good

  to you

  Darlin: There’s a pretty good taco place over here

  Me: Awesome

  Me: Miss you

  Darlin: Me too. See you soon

  Knowing it will be a while before she’s back, I get an idea. I send another text, hoping she’s available.

  Me: I have a free hour until Lani gets home, can I come over?

  I get an affirmative and drive over, not wanting to waste a minute showering even though it might make a less than stellar impression.

  I park and Connie is waiting for me, their front door open. “Hello son-in-law!”

  “I’d hug you, but I came straight from weight lifting at Ka‘eo's and I’m gross. I don’t want Nalani to have to wait for me when she gets home. Do you mind?”

  “Not at all! I’m a bit sweaty myself from gardening, although Daniel doesn’t let me wear myself out too much.” She ushers me inside, getting us both glasses of water.

  “How is Daniel?” I ask tentatively.

  “Still working on being okay with everything, I guess. He’ll come around, I’m sure of it. He loves Lani too much to maintain this distance.” She leads me to their back lanai.

  “Is all of this your doing?” I gesture to their perfect landscaping.

  “It is! I actually came to Hawai‘i to study botany. Then I met Daniel and never left. It’s my passion.”

  “My friend Jameson would love this. He’s really into plants and gardening.”

  “You’ll have to bring him by sometime! I never tire of talking plants, but my family does get tired of listening!” She tucks her feet underneath her in the chair, exactly like Nalani does. “I gather you were hoping to talk without our girl?”

  “Yes, if that’s ok. I don’t intend to keep secrets from her, but you know what she’s like when she doesn’t want to think about something.”

  “Ah, yes. She shuts down. Some of that is simply who she is, and I’m all for understanding our own strengths and weaknesses, not trying to be something we’re not.” I nod in agreement. “I guess I just want you to know I’m not advocating trying to change her. I hope you understand. But you should be aware that a lot of the unease over how she processes things is residual shame left by how others, particularly her exes, have treated her.”

  “Really?” My fists clench involuntarily. “I’ve gotten the impression that there was more there, but she’s doesn’t seem to want to talk about it.”

  “If she wants to share details, I’m sure she will. Still, I thought you should know that, when it comes to being loved, Nalani has never been treated with very much in the way of patience or soft words. No one has cared about her for who she truly is. She’s beautiful — it’s easy for men to be attracted to her — but they’ve never ended up liking her for her. She’s been lectured, berated, shamed, and dumped time and again without an ounce of appreciation for what makes her special. As if being quick and decisive supersedes everything else.”

  Knowing she was treated that way makes me livid. She is so much more than a pretty face. I can feel myself tensing up, my fists clenched once more and my shoulders raising on their own. I take a deep breath and make myself relax.

  “I think I understand how she thinks. I really try to give her space and manage our options, so she doesn’t feel overwhelmed. I don’t want her to be anyone else. I like who she is, Connie.”

  “I can see that.”

  “The managing options and talking through difficult things is kind of what brought me here.”

  “What is it she doesn’t want to talk about?” She asks gently.

  “She got the BRCA test this morning.”

  “And she doesn’t want to even think about it.”

  “Nope. I understand not wanting to worry until we have more information, but that’s sort of my problem. I don’t have any information. I’m worried about her, but I don’t want her to have to hold the weight of my worry along with her own. I’m supposed to be helping her shoulder these burdens, not adding to them.”

  “You’re a good man, Ames Cabot.” I wave it aside. I’m here for Nalani, not to boost my ego.

  “I was hoping, since you’ve been through some of this yourself, you might be willing to talk me through it.”

  “Of course. Should I start with the test?” I nod and she settles back in her chair. In this light, with the sunshine streaming through the window behind her, I can see the weariness she’d never admit to lining her face. “The test will tell her if she carries the mutated gene. It’s likely, considering I do, and it’s a hereditary thing. If it is positive, she can have up to a 65% higher chance of developing cancer before the age of 70 and the chance of that cancer spreading or returning is higher as well. BUT, having the gene doesn’t mean she will get cancer.”

  “What about having kids? Or choosing preventative treatments? Is that something you considered, if it’s not rude to ask that.”

  “I’m an open book, Ames. I have the BRCA2, which is the slightly lesser of the two. Daniel and I weighed my options carefully. In the end, we caught my cancer really early. It hasn’t spread at all and is only in one breast. My doctor feels confident that we can get rid of it with chemo and with this type of cancer, with early detection and no metastasizing, the 5-year survival rate is 99%. I’m good with those odds. I’m not sure how differently we would have felt if I had found out when I was younger. We already had Nalani when my sister was diagnosed with stage 4 breast cancer and subsequently passed away. Thinking about how chemo might affect Nalani’s ability to bear children is something you two will have to work through together. Same with considering preventative measures like mastectomy. That reduces the risk by 90%, but even completely removing the breasts doesn’t get her to 100%.”

  My head sinks into my hands. Nalani was right, there’s no use in borrowing trouble, robbing today of joy by burying it in tomorrow’s worries. Knowing that doesn’t keep the fear from sliding like a sliver of ice into my heart. The thought of Nalani sick scares the shit out of me and that was supposed to be the whole point of this contract. How can I take care of her if I’m crippled by my own worries?

  “You guys will get through this, Ames. Let the knowledge you have give you peace and take everything else a day at a time. That’s all you can do.” I check my watch and see I should head home. She walks me to the door, patting my cheek kindly. “Don’t take on too much, son-in-law. No matter how organized you are or how many tasks you take on, you can’t
control everything and trying can break you.” Connie sees too much, but I don’t have the mental capacity to add worrying about myself to the list.

  I make it home before Nalani and hop in the shower. I’m standing under the spray, letting the warm water run over me when she steps in behind me, wrapping her arms around me and pressing her body into my back. I turn around to hold her too, kissing her forehead.

  “Sorry, I thought I had time to get cleaned up before you got home.”

  “You’re good, I just wanted to be with you.”

  “I went and saw your mom this afternoon.” The heat of the water is nothing to her skin against mine.

  “You did?” She’s still holding me tight, water pooling between us. “How did she seem?”

  “A little tired, but good overall. She talked me through some of the BRCA stuff.”

  “Oh.” She stiffens, the muscles in her back tense under my hands.

  “Don’t freeze up on me, love. I don’t function well without details. I was really stressing about it. It helped me to have more information, and to get to spend some time with your mom.”

  She rests her head against my chest. “I bet she really liked getting to talk to you. Company always helps distract her when her body is hurting. I’m glad you went.”

  We wash each other, kissing under the spray of the water until her hands start exploring.

  “The tacos will be cold,” I say against her neck as I’m making my way back up to her mouth.

  “We can reheat them,” she tells me, taking my cock into her hand.

  “I support your plan.” I groan.

  “I need you to support more than my plan, Ames, if you intend to be inside of me.”

  “Yes, ma’am. I’m all about supporting you.” I lift her up, bracing her against the wall as I slide in. She’s everything I want, right here in my arms. “Anything you need, Darlin'.”

  28

  Nalani

  I think I may have a problem. All I can think about is getting my husband naked. We went from barely touching to going at it whenever possible. He has duty tonight and I’m not sure what to do with myself. It’s especially ridiculous because, before that fateful night at The Blue Note Hawai‘i, I was always by myself. How did I get attached this quickly? So much for being careful, giving myself time to trust his feelings and my own. I’ve tidied up and am sitting down at my piano when I hear my phone ding.

  Ames: Today sucks

  Me: What’s up?

  Ames: I miss you

  Ames: And I forgot the dinner I packed

  Ames: Mostly I miss you

  Me: Want some company?

  Ames: You’d do that for me?

  Me: Of course! I can’t have you wasting away on that ship. You have to keep your strength up so I can use you for your body once you’re back home.

  Ames: I’m all for that plan

  Me: Meet me in the parking lot in 30?

  Ames: You’re the best

  I find his forgotten dinner in the fridge: a good-sized container of salad and a steak sliced up. I throw the same thing into a second container for myself, adding some bread and grabbing a couple of the flavored seltzer waters he likes. Then, feeling a little silly, I change clothes. Whatever. I want to feel pretty. I pull on a knee length dress and grab a jacket since he said the air conditioning on board is frigid.

  He’s waiting for me when I pull up and I practically jump out of the car. He looks good enough to eat in his blue coveralls and ship ball cap. His hello kiss leaves me dizzy and I’m still blushing when we cross the brow to go on board. Taking my hand, he tells the guy on the other side that he’ll be in the Ward Room, eating dinner.

  “That’s the quarterdeck,” he motions to the sort-of counter area the sailor was standing behind. “On the front there is the ships insignia and motto.” I love Ames in teacher mode, brimming with knowledge and excited to share what he knows. He leads us down a darkened hallway to a metal door, dropping my hand to lift a heavy handle and lock system. He keeps talking while he closes it behind us, before turning to open the next door. “This is an air-lock door, for safety. I’ll just seal the outer door closed, and then I’ll be able to open the inner one so we can get inside. Captain likes to tell his kids they have to spin around 3 times, otherwise the door won’t open. I won’t do that to you, though. I’ll settle for a kiss as your payment.”

  I give it happily but feel weird being affectionate on a Navy ship. “This all feels very official. Do they let you give the tours? Like Tour Guide Ken, but in coveralls?” He pokes me in the ribs, startling me into a giggle.

  “No, I’m not a tour guide, smart ass. And I’m going to make you pay for the Ken joke.” The glint in his blue eyes sends heat between my legs. We step over the shin-high lip into the hall, and he seals the heavy door again. “This is a passageway, or p-way, not a hallway, and we’ll head up these steep steps to the next level. Hold onto the chains carefully. I’m right behind you. I won’t let you fall down the ladder well.”

  I’m chastising myself for my decision to wear a dress, not knowing I was going to have to climb open steps, until I glance down and catch Ames looking up my skirt. He’s always such a gentleman, it makes those little slips of straight-up horniness extra hot. I’m no longer climbing, distracted by watching him, and his eyes meet mine. I’d be blushing if I was in his position, but Ames slides his hand up the back of my leg, cupping my ass while staring me down.

  “Just keeping you steady here.” I laugh and his responding, downright naughty grin has me laughing harder right up until he slides his other hand up my legs, fingers squeezing. “Keep climbing, I don’t want anyone else getting a peek.”

  I scramble up to the next p-way, turned on and anxious at the thought that someone else could have seen us. I’m not as bold as Ames makes me feel.

  “Straight ahead, the door with the brass plaque, is the Ward Room.”

  I push open the heavy door and step awkwardly inside. He wasn’t kidding, the AC in here is freezing. We sit on the chairs at the far end of the table, talking while we eat our dinner. When we’re done, I pack our dishes up and Ames gets a rag from the galley (apparently that’s what they call the kitchen) to wipe down the blue vinyl tablecloth.

  “Do you think you can stay for a bit? I don’t have watch until 2300. I was planning on sitting here, watching Murder, She Wrote.”

  “We can do that. I’m not particularly anxious to go home to our empty apartment.”

  He pulls me down into his lap, nuzzling at my ear. “Did you miss me, Lani?”

  I twist to kiss him properly. I still feel a little weird, but not as exposed here, behind closed doors. “Of course. I don’t want to go to bed alone.” I press my lip out in an exaggerated pout and he nips at it, teeth scraping deliciously before he kisses me, his velvety tongue slipping into my mouth and around my own. Someone clears their voice at the now open door.

  “Cabot?” Heat rises to my cheeks, and I bury my face in his neck. Ames, however, isn’t bothered at all.

  “What’s up, Scott?”

  “I was checking to see if you were up for watching something, but you look busy.” I can hear the mirth in his voice.

  “I don’t think you’ve met my wife yet, have you?” I bring my face up to see him, Ames holding me firmly in his lap. “This is Nalani. Lani, that’s Scott.” Scott is tall and broad with smiling brown eyes and a cleanly shaved head.

  “Nice to meet you. I don’t want to interrupt,” he starts to back out the door.

  “If you don’t mind Murder, She Wrote, you’re welcome to stay. But no mean jokes. Lani loves Jessica Fletcher as much as I do, and I won’t tolerate anyone being an asshole to my girl.”

  Scott holds his hand up, solemnly swearing to respect Jessica with laughter in his eyes, and stays to watch an episode with us. Ames spends the entire forty plus minutes toeing the line with me on his lap. He wraps his arms around me, skating fingers over my breasts. He whispers in my ear, nipping and licking where Scott
can’t see him. His long, nimble fingers stroke and caress, teasing me relentlessly. By the time the end credits are rolling, I’m a woman teetering on the edge.

  Scott stands up, giving us a wave. “I’m gonna go up on deck and call my kids to say good night. Later, Cabot. Nice to meet you, ma’am.”

  As soon as the door closes behind him Ames clamps his hands on my hips and rotates his, grinding his erection into me. “Do you see what you do to me, Lani?”

  I push against him, looking at him over my shoulder. “This is not my doing. You were misbehaving during our show.”

  His voice is low and sexy in my ear. “I think you like when I misbehave.”

  Too right. I want him badly. I like flirting with him, but this isn’t fair. “Maka, it already sucked that I have to go home to sleep in our bed alone. It’s a little mean to make it harder than it already was.”

  “That’s what I’m saying,” he jokes, grinding into me again. I glare at him. “Too far? No erection jokes when you’re sexually frustrated? Roger.” He loses the grin and drops his voice, using that sexy tone that makes me tingle. “I didn’t intend to get you all hot and bothered and send you on your way, Darlin'.”