by Susan Stoker
“They did?” Rayne asked, surprised.
“Yup.”
“Seriously?” Mary questioned.
“Yeah. Don’t ask me how I know, because I might’ve used sexual torture to get it out of Coach.”
The women all chuckled. “So? Mary, what do you think?”
Mary slowly nodded. “If Truck is game, so am I.”
“Holy shit,” Rayne said softly. “We’re getting married together, Mare.”
Mary knew things weren’t quite that simple, but she nodded anyway. She probably wouldn’t have agreed so easily if she hadn’t had four glasses of wine, but she knew deep down there was nothing more that she wanted than to marry Truck for the right reasons. She might not be ready to admit to his face that she loved him, might not ever be ready, but she was more than ready to spend the rest of her life with him. She couldn’t imagine not having him by her side.
Any thoughts she might have had of divorcing him had long since disappeared. If she was honest with herself, from the second he’d stood across from her at the courthouse and said “I do,” she’d been lost. She’d felt like crap and knew she might not live to see the marriage become a real one, but even though she’d bitched and moaned, she’d been thrilled that Truck had insisted on marrying her.
“The second they get back, I’ll let Beatle know what’s going on,” Casey said with glee. “He’s gonna be ecstatic. He’s been bugging me for weeks to set a date.”
“I think Blade’s been talking to Beatle, because he’s been a pain in the butt about setting a date too,” Wendy agreed.
“Can I ask a favor?” Emily piped up.
“What?” everyone asked.
“Can we please wait until I have this baby? I don’t want to be the only beached whale at this giant wedding ceremony.”
“Of course!” Casey told her.
“We can’t plan a quadruple wedding in two months anyway,” Wendy added.
“Don’t bet on it,” Rayne said. “I think the second Ghost hears I’m finally going to marry him, he’ll have everything planned and ready to go within twenty-four hours.”
Everyone laughed. Mary agreed with Rayne, but she kept quiet. She wasn’t sure what Truck was going to think about the entire situation, but she hoped he’d be happy. She wanted to start their married lives over. To get rid of the old excuses for marrying each other and do it because they both wanted to spend their lives together.
The rest of the evening went by quietly. Sadie and Annie came back in, more wine was consumed, Annie learned about the upcoming quadruple wedding ceremony, and that she was going to be a bridesmaid, and they all ate way too much sugar and junk food.
Late that night, Mary snuggled under the covers in one of Emily’s guest rooms with Rayne on the twin bed across from her.
“Are you really okay with this?” Rayne asked quietly.
“Surprisingly, yeah,” Mary said.
“I’d understand if you weren’t.”
Mary turned on her side and faced her best friend. “I’m more worried about what Truck will think. He hasn’t exactly been happy lately.”
“Really?”
“Really. After the thing at the bank, I thought things were fine between us, but they’re not.”
“He loves you, Mare.”
“I know. But I’m afraid he’s getting tired of waiting for me to reciprocate. What if he comes back and decides he’s done?”
“He won’t,” Rayne said, her voice full of conviction.
“I don’t think I’d survive if he left me,” Mary whispered.
Rayne propped herself up on an elbow. “I thought you guys talked. I saw you two at the bank. It didn’t look like he had any plans to leave.”
“We did. But…he doesn’t hold me at night anymore.” Mary was embarrassed to admit it. But this was Rayne. Her best friend in the world. If she couldn’t talk to her about what was going on with Truck, who could she talk to?
“What do you mean?”
Mary sighed. “He’s seen my naked chest. When I was sick, he’d pull me into his arms and hold me all night. Even when I felt like shit and told him to go away, he wouldn’t. When the radiation hurt so bad I couldn’t even stand having a tank top or sheet touching me, he’d wrap his arm around my belly, sleeping with his feet sticking off the end of the bed, just so he could be next to me. He never seemed to care that my chest was as flat as a kid’s. He always kissed me in the morning, on the forehead, and he’d constantly touch me. My arm. My hand. The small of my back. It used to drive me crazy…but now it’s like I have the plague. He’s right next to me, but he might as well be miles away.”
“Have you asked him about it?”
“No. How do I ask for something I always pretended I hated? I miss him, Raynie. I mean, of course I miss him now that he’s on this mission, but I missed him before that, and he was right next to me. I know he was happy I wasn’t hurt at the bank, but then I think he started having second thoughts when I didn’t immediately open up to him afterward. I’m afraid he’s trying to figure out how to tell me he’s setting me free. That he’s going to give up on me.”
Rayne sat up and threw the covers back. She padded across the small space between the beds and pushed Mary over. Without a word, she climbed under the covers and hugged Mary close. They lay like that, their arms around each other in the small twin-size bed, and Mary did her best to keep the tears from falling from her eyes.
After several minutes, Rayne said softly, “That man loves you, Mary. I’m one hundred percent sure of that. You have to open yourself up to him. Talk to him. Tell him everything you haven’t told me about your childhood, no matter how hard it is. Tell him what a bitch your mom was. Tell him about the uncles.”
“Then what?”
“Seduce him.”
Mary choked, and it took a couple of moments to compose herself. “Seriously? That’s your advice?”
“It worked for me and Ghost.”
“That’s different.”
“Not really.”
“I don’t exactly have the equipment to seduce him anymore, Rayne,” Mary said dryly, more than aware of her completely flat chest.
“He doesn’t give a shit that you don’t have boobs,” Rayne retorted.
“I do.”
“What does your surgeon say about reconstruction?”
Mary realized that because of the rift between her and Rayne, they hadn’t talked about this. “It’s possible. But it’ll take about a year and a half for the entire process. They have to do liposuction and insert fat cells from my thighs and belly into my chest to stretch the skin first. That’ll take several sessions and months. Then he’ll put in expanders, and I have to go in every week to have them filled. I’ll do that until I either get to the size I want, or the skin starts to deteriorate and the doctor says we need to stop. After several months, the expanders will have created a pocket the implants will fit into, and I can have that surgery.”
“And?”
Rayne knew her too well. “I hate the way I look right now. I can’t even look in the mirror. I can’t imagine exposing myself to Truck. I mean, he’s seen me, but I felt so awful at the time, I didn’t really care. I told you that first time I couldn’t stand to have anything against my skin when the radiation burns were so bad, but this is different. And the thought of getting fake boobs makes me feel like such a hypocrite. You know me. You know how I always made fun of women with implants.”
“This is different.”
Mary closed her eyes. “It’s karma, Rayne.”
“What do you mean?”
“My mama had her breasts done so she could get men. We didn’t have enough money to eat, but somehow she conned one of her boyfriends to pay for the surgery. She always said that men would do anything for a pair of good tits. Guess she wasn’t wrong. When I was old enough to understand, I told her she was pathetic. That only whores got breast implants. She smacked me and told me that I was a stupid bitch, and that if I didn’t understand by then
that men only care about tits and pussy, I would never make it in the world.”
“She was wrong,” Rayne said immediately, pulling back and putting her hands on Mary’s face. “Mare, your mom was wrong.”
Mary couldn’t hold back the tears anymore. “I’m damned if I do and damned if I don’t, Raynie. I want Truck to love me, but I know boobs are important to men. I don’t want to look like a ten-year-old kid when I’m naked, but at the same time, if I get implants, I feel as if that’ll make me no better than my mama.”
“Your mother was a bitch. I’m sorry, but she was also a whore. She used men, plain and simple. The men she dated were only with her because of what she looked like and probably because she was good at sucking cock. But Truck isn’t like that. I think he’s proved over and over again that he’s with you because of you. But you know what? Forget about him for a second. This has nothing to do with him or any other guy.”
“How can you say that?” Mary asked.
Rayne dropped her hands and pulled Mary’s head against her chest. “This is about you, Mary. How you feel. It doesn’t matter what I think. It doesn’t matter what Truck thinks. It doesn’t even matter what your doctor thinks. All that matters is what you think. If having the reconstruction will make you feel more comfortable or prettier, then you should do it. If you want to stay exactly how you are right now because of women’s lib or whatever, then do that. You can wear boob inserts in your bra, or don’t, and screw everyone who might look at you weirdly. The Mary I know wouldn’t give a shit what anyone else thinks about her. If you want to go and get tattoos over every inch of your chest and walk around bare-ass naked, then you should do it. If you want to get Dolly-Parton-size implants, then do that. Fuck what everyone else thinks.”
Mary smiled. “So if I asked what you think I should do, you’d refuse to answer me, right?”
“Right,” Rayne said immediately. “I’ll love you no matter what size gazingas you have, Mary. Flat as a board or huge as watermelons, it’ll make no difference to me. And it’ll make no difference at all to the people who know and love you, including Truck. The only people who will judge you are those who don’t know you…and fuck them anyway. Their opinion doesn’t matter.”
“Are you quoting me, bitch?” Mary asked, her words muffled because she was lying on Rayne’s chest.
“Abso-fucking-lutely. You told me that same thing when I was worried about people finding out about me and Ghost’s one-night stand.”
“You know I love you, right?” Mary asked after several minutes had gone by.
“Yup. I wouldn’t be lying in this small-ass bed if I didn’t love you right back,” Rayne retorted.
“You’ll stay?” Mary asked.
“Of course.”
“I’ll be okay in the morning.” Mary felt the need to explain. “It’s just that I’ve missed Truck so much and—”
“You don’t have to explain,” Rayne said, and tightened her hold on her friend.
“When Truck gets back, I’ll tell him again that I want a real relationship,” Mary decided. “Hopefully this time I can use the right words so he’ll truly believe me. I’m not sure how sex will go, but I’m willing to try.”
“That’s the Mary that I know and love. It’s good to have you back,” Rayne told her.
“I’m really trying to curb my bitchiness,” Mary said. “It’s not easy, but if I’ve learned anything over the last year or so it’s that life is short. And I want to try to stop being so angry and snarky all the time.”
“Just don’t lose the Mary we all know and love,” Rayne said. “I mean, I think there are times when you could use a little more tact, but we still love you exactly how you are. It’s nice to have someone who isn’t afraid to say what we’re all thinking.”
“Deal,” Mary said with a smile. “Do we have any idea when the guys will get back this time?” Mary asked.
Rayne shook her head. “Unfortunately, no.”
“I get why everything is so secret, but it still sucks,” Mary grumbled.
“Welcome to life as the wife of a Delta Force soldier,” Rayne said dryly.
Long after Rayne fell asleep, Mary remained awake. She was more than happy to have her best friend back, but despite the way Truck had acted toward her after the robbery, he’d still maintained a distance between them at home. It was confusing and frustrating and made her unsure about where she and Truck stood. She was happy for Rayne’s advice about the reconstructive surgery, even if she didn’t know what her decision about that was going to be yet. But she couldn’t help thinking the worst when it came to Truck.
She’d been awful to him. Horrible. If a man had done to her what she’d done to Truck, she’d never forgive him. But by some miracle, Truck hadn’t given up on her…yet. He loved her. He’d said it even that week, but Mary knew that loving someone didn’t mean things would automatically turn out well in the end.
Sighing, she resolved to apologize to Truck and show him that he hadn’t made a mistake in marrying her. To let him know that she could be more than the snarky bitch people thought she was.
Chapter Four
Truck raised the binoculars and peered through them at the clearing below. He knew his team was nearby, as was the other Delta Force group. They’d spread out and surrounded the area. Along with the commander’s meticulous research, they’d been doing reconnaissance for a few days now, and they knew the routines of the men holding the seventy-plus girls hostage as well as they were going to know them.
They’d been sent to this hotter-than-hell country in Africa because a French diplomat’s daughter had been kidnapped, along with seventy or so other girls. Rebels had stormed the international school in the middle of the afternoon, threatening to kill everyone if anyone interfered. The diplomat just happened to be visiting the school that day, of all days. And he’d brought along his ten-year-old daughter with him on this trip to show her how people around the world lived.
The rebels had taken the French girl right along with the others. Many of the students were from the nearby villages, but there were also around ten girls who belonged to the international aid workers helping out in the area. The students had been held hostage for over a month by the time the Deltas had been called in.
The rebels had been demanding the government release several hostages in exchange for the girls’ safe return, but so far, negotiations had failed to bring an end to the standoff. The French Special Forces were currently on the other side of the country, checking out another tip, but it had turned out the Deltas were on the right track after all.
Truck glared at a rebel through the lenses. He’d just smacked a girl—around twelve, if Truck had to guess—and was laughing at her tears. They’d seen some awful things over the last few days and everyone was eager to make a move. Truck thought about Annie being in this situation and it made his blood boil. No one had seen the little French girl, but there was no doubt she was there.
There were about forty or so rebels guarding the camp. At any one time, there were ten watching over the tents with the girls. There were three tents holding the hostages—and the guards took turns dragging the girls out one by one and taking them into a smaller tent nearby.
All the Deltas knew what was going on, but they couldn’t make a move to stop the abuse until they were sure they could take out the rebels without any retaliation against the hostages.
Truck couldn’t wait to kill the men. He wasn’t usually bloodthirsty, but he couldn’t help it in this situation. Anyone who hurt little girls deserved to die a slow and painful death. He’d always hated violence against women and children, but after getting to know Annie, and getting to know his best friends’ women, and after having met and married the love of his life, he abhorred it even more.
If anyone dared to look at Mary the wrong way, he wouldn’t hesitate to put them in their place. Mary could take care of herself, but she shouldn’t have to. It wasn’t cool that men thought it was okay to smack a woman’s ass because of what
she might be wearing. It wasn’t okay for them to make suggestive remarks or to tell her that she’d look better on her knees in front of him.
Truck hadn’t always been an angel. Before his friends started meeting their women, they’d gone to strip clubs, picked up women in bars. He’d wrapped his arm around a woman’s waist without asking if it was okay first. He’d palmed asses, stolen kisses, and pulled women onto his lap, even when he knew they’d feel his hard-on under them. But now that Mary was in his life, as well as all the others, he’d never disrespect a woman like that again.
Watching the rebels hurt the children they were holding hostage was unbearable. He wanted to move immediately and stop it. If they could prevent even one girl from horrible memories she’d have for the rest of her life, it’d be worth it. But he had to wait. They had to make sure they had their plan down pat. If they didn’t, those kids he wanted to save could end up dead.
Along with his hatred for the rebels, his frustration over his relationship with Mary wasn’t helping his emotions. While he was thrilled as could be for Hollywood and Kassie and their newborn daughter, he couldn’t help but be jealous of his friend as well.
He wanted that. Wanted to be able to hold Mary’s hand in public and not worry if she was comfortable with that or not. Wanted to have a family with her. Because of her cancer, he had no idea if she’d be able to have kids naturally, but that didn’t matter. They could adopt. Or if she didn’t want kids, they could go to the shelter and find some cats and dogs that needed homes. It didn’t matter what kind of family they had, as long as they had one.
He’d thought that, after the robbery, Mary would loosen up toward him, but things remained awkward between them. He could tell she was still holding back—and he wanted more from her. Wanted her to stop fighting what she felt for him.
“You all right?” Beatle asked after he’d crawled up next to him.
“Yeah.”
“You don’t look all right.”
