Beneath the Layers

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Beneath the Layers Page 6

by Caitlyn Willows


  This had to stop, but she hated the thought of having to move. Living close to work was a blessing—especially today—and the condo was snug and homey with lots of room for her books and window ledges for Hades to perch upon. It was time to draw that line in the sand and order Bernadette not to cross it.

  What if she’d walked in on me and Orin?

  The thought made Midge laugh. It’d be worth it to see the horror on old Bernie’s face. She let images from the night before sink into her veins and couldn’t wait to do it all over again. She ached thinking of him filling her, of him making her come, of the way their bodies moved in perfect synchronicity. Her nipples tightened with her clit. She shut down the fantasy train and focused on her anger at herself for letting others walk all over her. Doing so was her fault, no matter what her justification. No more. It was time to fully resurrect the Midge who wasn’t afraid to back down.

  Her SUV’s tires squealed around a corner she took too fast. She checked the dash clock. Seven-fifty-five. No way was she going to make it. She turned onto the main thoroughfare leading straight to the Marine Corps base. At this rate, she’d be lucky if a cop didn’t pull her over. She accelerated to the guard gate, breaking hard at the last second. The armed military policeman on duty extended one hand for her ID card. He looked at her photo then squinted at her.

  “Doesn’t look much like you. Rough night?” He snickered and waved her through the gate.

  Shocked and confused, Midge eased into the base traffic. At the stoplight she turned the rearview mirror toward herself to see what the sentry was talking about. Her hair looked like a bird’s nest, her eyes were bloodshot and puffy from the club’s smoky air and she still had remnants of last night’s makeup smudged on her face.

  “I look like a train wreck.”

  Steering with one hand, she tried to wipe the mess away with a tissue. It was hopeless. There weren’t enough tissues in the world to clean her face. She turned the mirror to its correct position and tried not to think about her less-than-stellar appearance. At eight on the dot, she skidded into a parking spot at the Office of the Staff Judge Advocate, grabbed her things and sprinted for the door.

  It was a busy Friday morning. Marine clerks crisscrossed the long hallway, ducking between offices, carrying paperwork and delivering case files. Two civilian defense attorneys, preparing to meet with their military clients, paced impatiently in the reception area, waiting for the military police to deliver them.

  Midge raced down the corridor, ignoring gaping coworkers hovering around the communal coffee urn. She threw her tote and purse at her desk as she passed her office and headed straight for the courtroom at the end of the long building.

  One minute past eight. Late.

  Maybe they hadn’t started on time. Maybe the judge was still in his chambers. She opened the door and cringed.

  Lieutenant Colonel Epstein sat in the judge’s chair, twirling his silver pen between two fingers. He glared as she hurried to the court reporter’s station located directly in front of and below the judge’s box and slid into place.

  “Staff Sergeant Ellis, so nice of you to join us.” Judge Epstein’s voice carried through the courtroom with quiet, deadly precision.

  She forced emotion from her face as she readied her closed microphone equipment. “Sorry, sir.”

  From the corner of her eye, she saw the prosecutor and the defense counsel had broken off their chatter with Special Agent Davidson to watch the interplay between her and the judge. Embarrassment overwhelmed her to have Davidson see her this way, not that he’d ever been interested. She had Orin now. What did she care what he thought? But she did and, despite the killer sex last night, she still craved him.

  “Thank you for gracing us with your presence this morning. If it isn’t too much of an imposition on your time, I’d like to commence with the court-martial,” the judge said.

  “Yes, sir. Sorry, sir.” Were her cheeks as red as they felt? “I apologize to you and to the rest of the courtroom for my lapse.”

  He eyed her for a moment before he nodded. “This tardiness hasn’t happened before. Make sure it doesn’t happen again.” His mouth tightened as he looked her up and down. “Also, Staff Sergeant, next time you’re in here, I expect you to be looking like a Marine, not a bag lady.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Blind with shame, she double-checked her equipment. Faint snickers drifted from the bailiff and from the first sergeant, who attended the proceedings as a representative from the accused’s command. She gritted her teeth and began recording. She had no one to blame but herself. It had been pure carelessness on her part not to have prepared her uniform the night before and double-checked her alarm. She wasn’t a raw recruit and prided herself on being on top of things. Plus, she’d worked hard these last three years to not bring attention to herself—to keep her head down and do her job. She’d failed miserably this morning, all because of a hot guy.

  Midge fought to keep her smile inside. No way would she regret last night.

  The testimony dragged on. The accused made his plea for leniency in the face of the larceny charges brought against him by the government prosecutor. The young man had been caught pilfering gift cards from the convenience store on base. It was a slam-dunk case that didn’t need all these witnesses and didn’t require the presence of NCIS. At the one-hour mark, Lieutenant Colonel Epstein called for a fifteen-minute recess. Her bladder cheered.

  “I expect you to use that time to clean up, Staff Sergeant,” he told her.

  Heat burned her face. She was never going to live this down. To make matters worse, her stomach complained about the lack of food and the growling drew more looks her way. She counted the seconds until the judge’s chamber door closed behind him. There was a controlled surge to the exit—everyone heading for the coffee urn. She shoved her sliding glasses up her nose. She had fifteen minutes and knew she could get cleaned up in five— if everyone got out of her way. In her haste, she cut in front of First Sergeant Yost and Special Agent Davidson.

  “Hold up there, Ellis,” Yost said.

  She reluctantly turned to face him. Yost’s weathered face was sunburned from a recent training exercise out in the desert with his tank battalion.

  “You all fired up to get back to the Oasis?” He gestured at the distinctive ink stamp still visible on her hand. “I wouldn’t have thought it was your type of place. Did you wander in there by mistake?” His loud bray turned heads.

  Midge said nothing, hoping Yost would shut the hell up and not keep reminding her of her public embarrassment. He was the type of man who continued to joke about other people’s humiliating moments ad nauseum. She could only hope he got transferred to a remote location where she wouldn’t have to deal with him ever again. The moon sounded great.

  His Southern drawl continued as she hurried on.

  “She’s a fine court reporter but odd as all get out. Y’all know what I mean? Keeps to herself and walks around like she’s trying to hide all the time. God, did you smell her?”

  The reply from Davidson was low but audible. “The entire courtroom could smell her.”

  Yost snorted. “She reeks of something, that’s for sure. I’m surprised the judge didn’t order her to report to the shower the minute she walked in. Another court reporter could have filled in.”

  Davidson snickered. “I’m surprised the accused didn’t change his plea to guilty just to get the hell out of there. She also needs to lose the bun hair.”

  Midge jerked to a stop outside her office. Coworkers paused in the corridor and stood wide-eyed, waiting for her response. She’d had enough. Sometimes a woman had to make a stand. That started here and now. Yost’s comment was typical, but Davidson’s comment was unexpected and hurtful. To think this was the man she’d spent her nights lusting after. His unnecessary cruelty fueled the simmering anger inside.

  She whipped around to face the men, halting them in their tracks. Long strides put her five feet from them, though she longed
to stick her face up close and personal—nose-to-nose, drill instructor mode—so they’d really get the message.

  “With all due respect, gentlemen, I may not be a fashion model, but I have manners enough not to bad mouth someone behind their back. If you’ve got something to say, say it to my face.”

  Arms stiff at her sides, fists balled, she glared at Yost then turned her stare on Davidson. It was the first time she’d ever been so close to him. She already knew he was an extraordinarily attractive man. This close, he looked even better. That hint of a dimple in his left cheek begged to be licked. A flush covered his cheeks. At least he had the courtesy to be embarrassed.

  He waited, head tilted ever so slightly. His nostrils twitched and she swore he took a deeper breath. She hoped he had the sense to keep his mouth shut. All she needed was one more straw and she’d explode. She longed to tell them that the elusive scent Yost couldn’t identify was the smell of sex—hours and hours of hot, body-grinding sex. That if he’d had any, he would have recognized it. If she gave in to that urge, Midge was certain a charge of insubordination would be leveled against her. Was she brave enough to counter-attack with a charge of harassment? Maybe, but she doubted anyone would back her up. She’d learned that the hard way.

  She stood her ground, daring one of them to say something. As precious seconds ticked away, the hint of sandalwood drifted her way. Her body took notice—heart racing, nipples tightening, clit hard and ready for action. Midge swallowed and took a closer look at Davidson, appreciating his good looks and hating herself for it. She had a man, a hot man. Why give this guy the time of day? Again, her body disagreed.

  “Is there a problem here?”

  Judge Epstein came up behind Davidson and Yost. An empty coffee cup dangled from his finger and they were between him and his target—the coffee urn down the hall.

  “You’ve got”—he glanced at his watch—“thirteen minutes. Move it. Clock’s ticking, Staff Sergeant.”

  Midge didn’t have to be told twice. Her beef with Yost and Davidson would keep until she had time to plan a proper rebuttal, and the more distance she put between herself and Davidson, the better. She spun around and saw Major Zach Taylor standing behind her, and he was pissed. Dread crawled up her spine, until she saw his ire was directed toward Davidson.

  “I’d like a word with you.”

  “Right there,” Davidson replied.

  His voice struck her, so much like Orin’s that it added to her dilemma.

  Zach turned, clearly expecting Davidson to follow. Why wouldn’t he? They were friends and running partners at lunch. Once she’d realized that, Midge had put a stop to the occasional dinners at the Taylor and Stuart homes. She couldn’t risk anyone finding out she was fraternizing with senior officers, despite their history as friends. It wasn’t a big deal to hang out with Phillip Stuart since he’d left the Marine Corps. But Zach Taylor? She owed both men more than she could ever repay and loved their wives, but not at the risk of losing all she’d worked to hide. As much as she missed their company, it was over, and she didn’t have time to dwell on friendships lost. A hot shower called her name. She grabbed her tote and aimed for the women’s head, daring a parting shot of Davidson’s fine ass as he followed Zach.

  Goosebumps rose on her arms, making her shiver. He was memorable, all right, but in the same category as a caged leopard—beautiful, but dangerous, and quite capable of great bodily harm.

  * * * *

  Kurt followed Zach to his office in the building next door, wondering what the hell was wrong. Zach’s body posture screamed upset. Kurt worried if something had happened to Claudia. She was due to deliver their son within the next two weeks. Anything could have gone wrong.

  Zach whirled on him the instant the door closed them in privacy. His dark eyes shot lasers at Kurt. He jammed his fists on his hips. Kurt had seen this stance before. He hadn’t liked it then and didn’t now. This had nothing to do with Claudia. Zach was mad at him.

  “What the fuck is wrong with you? That was uncalled for.”

  He’d heard the exchange with Ellis and was rightfully pissed. Kurt had no defense. He wished he could take the words back. She didn’t deserve to be treated with disrespect. She was a top-notch court reporter who always did one hell of a job. He admired her work ethic and her dedication. So what if she wasn’t interested in him? It wouldn’t be the first time a woman had shut him down. But he couldn’t get her out of his mind or his fantasies, even after last night with Midge. Hell, he’d pretended it was her and not Midge he’d been with. He ached to see what was behind the mask Ellis showed the world, wanted to pull her hair from that bun, to open her uniform one button at a time to see the woman beneath the façade. Yet she remained prickly and standoffish. Her doing so only fired his fantasies.

  Then she’d charged up to him and Yost, putting them in their places. Fire and outrage spat from her and she’d been close enough to burn them both. Very close. Too close. Close enough for Kurt to identify the scent exuding from her pores. She reeked of sex. Jealousy strangled his gut. His cock had filled to bursting before he could blink. Worry over Claudia had helped subdue him. He wasn’t in the mood for a lecture from Zach on his behavior.

  “You’re no better than Yost. Worse, in fact.” Zach stabbed a finger at him. “You’ve complained about her from the minute she arrived here. I don’t understand why you dislike her. You barely know her.”

  Kurt rubbed at the headache blooming behind his eyes. “I don’t dislike her. I just don’t understand her.”

  Zach snorted. “Welcome to the club. I’ve yet to meet a man who understands a woman.”

  He straightened his shoulders, taking offense. “I understand women just fine.”

  “Being able to dress up like one for an undercover assignment doesn’t make you an expert.”

  Kurt’s irritation grew. What the hell business is it of Zach’s? Yeah, Kurt may have crossed a line with Ellis and he shouldn’t have engaged in good-ole-boy talk with Yost, but Zach was more than pissed. He was furious, and Kurt couldn’t figure out why. He pulled in a breath that did little to calm him.

  “Allow me to clarify. I don’t understand her. She looks like she could be a beautiful woman if she’d fix herself up a bit.” He cursed himself for the lie. There was beauty there waiting for him to discover bit by bit.

  Zach’s eyes widened. “She is a beautiful woman. What the hell is wrong with you? It’s not like you to judge someone based on what you see on the surface, especially when you look like shit this morning.”

  “I was working last night.” Had he stumbled over those words? Because it’d felt like anything but work being with Midge, and that was causing him all manner of angst.

  “Whatever. You were an ass back there. In fact, you’ve been a jerk about her since she arrived two months ago. I want to know why.”

  Fine. “If you must know, she shut me down.”

  His eyebrows inched closer. “Shut you down?”

  “I flirted with her and she ignored me.”

  Zach burst out laughing. “Oh my God. I’ve seen your sad attempts at flirting. You probably did something innocuous like offered her a stick of gum or a candy. She didn’t fall at your feet and you considered yourself kicked to the curb.”

  He’d almost nailed it. Anger flushed Kurt head to toe. He couldn’t find words to defend himself. She hadn’t said no. She’d said nothing.

  “This from the king of bad courting?” Kurt shot back. “How long did you pursue Claudia?” He stared into the corner as if the answer were there. “Five years, I believe.”

  “Don’t try to change the subject,” Zach replied. “I get it now. I should have seen it before. She’s bothered you too much not to mean something to you.”

  Kurt wanted to deny it, but the images of having her in his arms, slowly removing her clothing a piece at a time, swam through his head.

  “In any event, you owe Staff Sergeant Ellis an apology.”

  He wasn’t wrong, but he’d b
e damned if he’d let Zach know that. “I’ll think about it.”

  “No. You’ll do it. You were wrong. Instead of putting on your good-ole-boy persona for Yost, you should have worn your knight-in-rusted-armor one and defended her. That would have gotten her attention.”

  He hated that Zach was right—hated himself more that he’d missed that opportunity.

  “And if I don’t?”

  Zach smirked. “I’ll tell Claudia.”

  Fuck. Score to Zach. Claudia would tear Kurt to shreds with that sharp tongue of hers if she knew he’d disrespected a woman. It didn’t help that Kurt knew he was out of line and stupid on top of it all. Why hadn’t he seen the incident as a chance to win Ellis’ favor? He’d been too focused on how she’d ignored him to figure out how to correct it and too dumbstruck by the smell of sex that clung to her.

  “Fine,” he snapped, and whipped open the door.

  “I’ll know if you don’t,” Zach said behind his back.

  Kurt flipped him off and kept walking.

  * * * *

  Midge hurried through her shower in record time, returning to her desk to find an oatmeal-raisin energy bar, iced coffee with cream and a box of alcohol wipes waiting for her. She blessed whoever had taken pity on her—someone who knew she loved cold brew and the perfect proportion of coffee to cream. It had to be Zach. She’d thank him later. Midge wolfed down the treat, used the wipes to get the blasted club stamp off her hand and was back at her station with two minutes to spare. Yost and Davidson were gone—another blessing.

  The court-martial zipped along. By the time lunch rolled around, the guilty verdict and sentencing were announced—brig time, forfeiture of pay, demotion to private. The Marine had the nerve to look outraged. Midge bet he’d be back in court shortly after he was returned to duty. He had ‘career criminal’ written all over his expression.

  She gathered her work, looking forward to lunch, during which she might recover some of her reputation by working through the ninety minutes. That hope was dashed when she saw Zach coming down the hallway dressed in PT gear.

 

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