Three young ladies had ventured in, shopping for the miracle dress and had each found a possibility. Girl number one, who I’ve labeled as ‘Oh my, God girl’, because in the six and a half minutes she has been looking in the mirror, she had said it fifteen times. She was a size two, with legs to die for and definitely the self-imposed ringleader of the group, speaking for all the girls.
Girl number two, ‘Cell girl’, as she'd had her damn phone glued to her ear since she walked in and hadn't said a word. I'll give her a pass though, if I had a friend like ‘Oh my, God girl’, I’d zone out on my cell too.
Girl number three, I assume is the new girl in the group, she was by far the prettiest in the bunch, but I’ve labeled her Gullible as her friends were trying to convince her the hot pink mini-dress they found was perfect for her. First, the dress was a double zero and wasn't going to fit the majority of the population on the planet, much less this chick.
Enter pregnant Sarah, walking out of her sewing room. "Oh, no! Girl, that dress is all wrong for you."
"Excuse me?" ‘Oh my God girl’ responded.
"Oh, don't play stupid! You and I both know that dress will barely cover her ass and she'll be the girl everyone whispers about."
"Don't listen to her, Lisa. She probably wants the dress for herself."
"No, Lisa, listen to me. I don't give two shits if you buy the dress or not, but your so-called ‘friend’ over here, wants you to wear it so she can talk shit about you behind your back." Sarah took the dress from Lisa and tossed it to ‘Oh my God girl'.
"Here, if you like it so much, you wear it."
She went to the back of the store and brought out a gorgeous Chanel wrap-dress. "Try this on and see if I'm right."
Pissed off, ‘Oh my God girl’ tossed the pink dress on the floor at Sarah's feet.
"Oh, hell no! You better pick it up and hang it back on the rack."
The look Sarah gave her could have ended World War III. ‘Oh my God girl’ quickly picked up the dress and hung it back on the hanger. Lisa emerged from the dressing room and holy shit, she looked like a dream. The dress fit her like it was made for her and the smile on her face was priceless.
Once the girls were out the door with dresses in hand, I let loose the laugh I had held in. With the triplets safely in their car, I locked up the shop and shut off the lights.
Early the next morning, hours before the sun made a decision to rise or hide behind the clouds, my store was full of reporters, friends, and board members. Meredith came in late last night, she and Weston looking incredible as ever. The Forbes’ possessed the ability to take any question head on and look fresh as the driven snow, no matter how much dirt the local paper wanted to toss their way. Mona stood among the press, her judgy eyes shooting daggers at Meredith. It was comical, watching the envy swallow Mona up, her flower boxes would never bring her a spread in People magazine. Even her attempts at photo bombing backfired, when a wayward cup of coffee went flying in her direction, its owner remaining a mystery.
Josh brought his wife and children. They arrived just as we were loading into the back of the limo, a jab at Mona I suspected, as they were brought in last minute. Amanda flanked my right side, nearly out of breath as she ended a call on her cell phone.
Kissing my cheek, “That’s from Ross. He told me to tell you how proud he is and wishes he could have been here for you.”
My breath caught in my chest, “When did you talk with Ross?”
Amanda was in the process of refreshing her lipstick, the applicator gliding over her bottom lip, leaving a polished shine in its wake.
“Last night, and again this morning.”
Rubbing her lips together, spreading the gloss to her upper lip, she sends me a toothy smile and tosses the wand back into her purse.
Clearing my throat, a distraction to mask my disappointment. I had checked my email practically every minute in the last twenty-four hours, praying to hear even a short hello from Logan, but had come up empty every time. I’d rationalized the lack of correspondence to be from a communication freeze, something I’d experienced on a number of occasions. But with Ross’s well wishes, my heart broke a little.
“Weston, love, didn’t you say Logan sent you something last night?”
Meredith and Weston had climbed into the limo, giving a few last quotes to reporters who had traveled across the country to cover this event. Weston had removed a small tablet from his jacket as soon as the car began to move. Without looking up from his screen, dark glasses poised on the end of his nose.
“Yes, I did. He returned an email I’d sent him regarding Senator Green's phone call last week.”
My belly filled with dread and with trembling fingers, I swiped the screen of my phone, my heart crumbling as I stared at an empty mailbox.
Chapter Nineteen
Logan
Red and white stripes, in perfect alignment drape over the coffin of Kevin Ramsey as it rolls down the conveyor belt of the airplane. White stars on a deep blue background come to rest directly in front of me. The American flag, a symbol of pride and honor, led the way to our fallen teammates final resting place.
The seven of us stand at attention, deep blue, crisp uniforms flanking each side of the mahogany coffin. Fellow passengers were asked to remain seated as I exited the plane in reverent silence. I take notice of the tear-stained faces pressed against the glass from the waiting area above, grief for a faceless man they will never know.
Reaper and Viper are the first to grasp the silver handle. White-gloved hands moving in unison to bring the coffin off the conveyer belt, and closer to the waiting hearse. Havoc and Ghost are next, as award metals move in the wind, the roar of the plane's engines drowning out the clang. Chief stands opposite me, his solemn face matching mine, as the silver handle comes into view. I watch as my own gloved hand reaches out to join the others, Ramsey’s coffin now in our reverent hands. Diesel stands at the top of the coffin, his cover obscuring his face.
“Forward face.”
I can barely hear Viper call out the command, but we’ve been a team so long it is more of a formality than a necessity. Using the ball of my right foot and the heel of my left, I drop my left hand and pivot to the left.
My heart is heavy as I place the edge of the coffin onto the guide at the opening of the hearse, the metal catching and allowing us to glide Ramsey into the back. From the corner of my eye, I notice the driver standing at attention, his arm raised to the edge of his brow in a salute, eyes fixed in the distance showing his respect.
We climbed into the waiting limo, an arrangement I asked my father to help me schedule. When the Red Cross returned the call confirming Ramsey’s brother would not be allowed out of prison, nor had the funds to arrange a proper burial, I had less than two hours to pack my gear and get myself, and Ramsey’s remains, on a cargo flight out, breaking my cell phone in my rush to get ready.
Kincaid helped me pack, offering to tell Harper I was on my way. Just as I was about to climb into the truck, I caught his attention and told him not to say anything to Harper, I wanted to surprise her. Viper had been available to come to Arlington, making the final arrangements for the honor guard and Chaplain. We all agreed, Ramsey deserved a funeral with honor and respect.
Being back in the States, something I had wanted with everything in me for months, seemed lackluster without Harper beside me. I’d nearly caved and called her several times, but I reminded myself I wanted to see the look on her face as I walked into her store.
Looking into the face happy face of Viper, the beautiful Kennedy at his side, I knew it would all be worth it. While I didn’t have the closeness they shared with Harper, I was damned determined to get there.
“Hey, man.”
Viper untangles himself from Kennedy's arms and moves in my direction. With an outstretched hand and determined look on his face, he leaves no room for doubt to fill the small space between us, that he has something he wants to discuss.
“I heard some bull
shit story about you taking off with a Hummer belonging to Aarash.”
“Something like that.”
In all the hurried planning of this trip, I'd nearly forgot to speak with Zach about what we uncovered in Aarash’s fortress.
“I’m glad you brought it up, though. We found something much more interesting, something you need to know about.”
Zach’s face contorted in worry as I told him about the files Aarash had in his possession. The amount of detailed information he had on each of us.
“You know, I've wracked my brain trying to figure out how he knew about my brother.”
“I wish I could tell you how he got it. All I can say for certain is he won't be able to do anything with the information or causing any more problems for anyone.”
“Oh, trust me, I’m thankful as fuck. But—” Zach tips his head to the side as his mouth contorts into a frown. “I still would have loved to wrap my hands around his neck until the truth came tumbling out as to who fed him the intel.”
“Has to be someone on the inside.”
We snap our head simultaneously in Ryan’s direction. His eyes flashing between Zach and myself as he rocks back and forth on his heels.
“It’s the only thing that makes any sense. He has the funds to pay someone in the right position for the type of information he had on this team.”
Neither of us wants to imagine someone in Washington selling us out to a murderous prick like Aarash, but we’ve all seen how corrupt men can become when money is dangled before them. Those black-souled bastards crave power more than doing what is right.
After the last shovel of dirt had been tossed into the grave, we make our way to the parking lot where Diesel’s family waited patiently. Two tall men stood on either side of him, muscular and built, much like Diesel, each with their own defining characteristics.
“Hey, Doc. I want you to meet my brothers.”
“We’re not in the desert anymore, Chase. Logan will be all right.” His mega-watt smile comes out as his hands find his hips. Switching his feet back and forth, bouncing on the balls of his feet.
“Logan, this is my oldest brother Dylan.” The largest of the three leans over, extending his hand in my direction. Dylan is my height, but if I had to guess, about thirty pounds lighter than me. It’s clear he spends a fair amount of time in the gym, but is nowhere close to my muscle mass.
“Pleasure to meet you, man.”
“This is my middle brother, Austin.”
I’d heard about this one, some goddamn computer genius who has broken through every firewall ever put before him. Where Dylan has an edge of ruggedness, the same hard edges Chase has, Austin uses his brain over his brawn. Not that he is soft, the opposite is true, his build is solid, yet less so than his brothers.
“Logan Forbes graduated in the top three percent from BUD/S training. One of twelve physicians allowed to engage in combat operations outside of search and rescue.”
His knowledge of my history didn’t surprise me; hell the man was a master of the internet.
“Nice to meet you, Austin. Should I be worried you know my credit score too?” I joked, everyone joining in as the lightness of the moment helped to quiet the flurry of emotions around us.
“What this I hear about you going to Twenty-Nine Palms?” Ghost nudges me from my left, “Haven’t you had enough sand and shit?”
Glancing back to Austin, his arm now around a beautiful girl I suspect is his wife, Lainie. “You got this one?” I tease, cocking an inquisitive eyebrow in his direction.
“I’m thinking the same thing he is.” Nodding his head in Ryan’s direction.
Taking a step back, needing room to collect my thoughts and the ability not to sound like a douche. “Remember when we were on the hill, listening to those Boots talk about warm pussy?”
My eyes flash to Lainie, unaccustomed to having female ears around when I spoke with my team. “Sorry.” I back peddle, but she rolls her eyes and snuggles into Austin’s side.
“When you brought the mail over, Zach got a letter from Kennedy and I got one from Harper Kincaid, introducing herself. I assumed it was a mistake, but it turned out to be the best thing to ever happen to me.”
Ryan nodded his head as Zach placed a kiss to the forehead of the girl standing beside him. How incredible was it to think all this happiness originated from a single mailbag.
“Harper and I have been exchanging emails and almost daily Skype sessions, building a friendship that has become a monogamous relationship. When I found out I was headed to Twenty-Nine Palms, I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t be so close and yet so far from the girl who has my shit wrapped around her little finger. So, I swallowed my fucking pride and made a phone call, cashing in a favor from a family friend. I’ll still have to serve my remaining time, but it will be in Norfolk, Virginia, and not the fucking desert of California.”
“Wait a fucking minute.” Aiden interrupts, his hand gripping my right shoulder hard enough to make me wince if I’d chosen to let him see me, which I didn’t. “Mr. Honor and Commitment did something selfish for once?” Exchanging a look with him, considering my answer carefully before letting it run free, once it’s out there I will be unable to take it back.
“I love her.”
Letting my admission hang in the air, the sound of my honesty settling well within my soul. Falling for Harper was effortless, her generosity and ability to love those around her called to me, pulling me into a place I have no desire ever to leave.
“Holy shit!” Aiden shouts, thrusting his head back in laughter. “Harper Kincaid is a goddamn miracle worker.”
After a round of congratulations from my team, we make a firm plan to go forward with our mercenary for hire business. With the exception of Havoc, we all lived fairly close to one another. Alex made it clear he would not be leaving Florida anytime soon, his mother’s plans to marry him off getting closer to reality. Aiden wanted to go and enjoy a beer, but I had a four-hour drive ahead of me.
“Sorry, man, I’ve waited months to meet her. With some careful planning, and my father's help, I will get to see her beautiful face in less than twenty-four hours.” My dad was keeping me informed as to how Harper was doing.
“Any more trouble out of that guy you had me follow?”
“I haven’t spoken to Harper in a few days. With Ramsey’s death we went into River City. By the time it was lifted, I was boarding a plane home.”
“You let me know if he starts any shit. I can be there in a few hours.”
After giving Aiden and my team my word I would be in touch, Dylan and Austin started sharing the files on the latest requests for our teams help. The amount of money being offered for our services is absolutely ridiculous. Zach explained there was a need for men willing to ignore the rules of polite society. As SEALs, we didn’t have any.
My need to see Harper clouded my better judgment to follow the speed limit between Arlington and Norfolk. Pulling into town much later than I had planned, her shop was closed for the day and the apartment above dark as a tomb. I stood on the sidewalk, taking in the stores around her, smiling as I saw the candy shop across the street and the salon where Amanda and Stacy worked. Ross had boasted about how the sidewalks rolled up as the sun dipped behind the horizon. The smallness of this section of the city, refusing to change with the new age.
Continuing down the street, the center of the city was illuminated by replica turn-of-the-century street lamps, their warm light chasing the dark shadows from delicate flowers, which surround a statue in the center of the square. A pair of stray cats riffled through a nearly full trash can, looking for what I would imagine were scraps of food. A subtle reminder I needed to find some food for myself, as the last time I ate was an MRE on the cargo plane.
My father selected a hotel far enough away from Chesapeake I wouldn’t accidentally run into Harper, yet close enough I wouldn’t have to fight the traffic Norfolk is famous for. Once inside my room, I changed out of my uniform and ordered room s
ervice. The polite lady behind the desk had handed me the package my father said he would send. Inside I found a new cell phone and bank cards, as well as some cash. It had been so long since I’ve needed these things, but I intended to take care of my girl. There was a note tucked around the cash, and I recognize my father’s script.
I want to go on the record as saying I advised you to call her when you arrive. -Dad
After inhaling the first rare steak I’ve enjoyed in months, I climbed into a shower with endless hot water, letting the force of it redden my skin. I watched the water swirling around the drain in the bottom of the tub, taking with it the final remnants of the desert. I didn’t bother to put any clothes on, as there was zero chance of a corpsman dragging me out of this bed for an emergency. Sliding between the crisp sheets, the soft give of the mattress extracting a sigh from my lips. With my hands behind my head, the firm pillows coaxing the sleep to take over sending me into dreams filled with Harper joining me in my bed, her hands appreciating every inch of me.
An alarm on my phone brings me out of the dream, just as I’m about to taste the juncture of Harper's thighs I’ve envisioned for months, creating the fantasy inside my head I used to release the tension in my brief shower back in Afghanistan. Today, I will get to see her, touch the skin of her face I've craved to all this time. Today, I would see for myself if her lips taste as sweet as I imagine they do.
When I thought of how I wanted Harper to see me for the first time, I recalled the first letter I received from her and the paragraph where she dispelled any officer and a gentleman notion I may have accused her of. Today, I will give her a reality, a new chapter in her world she can share with our grandchildren, a moment so incredible Hollywood will have a bidding war to own the rights.
Operation SEAL: Book Two Trident Brotherhood Series Page 20
