by Beth Rhodes
With a pause first, probably thinking about it, she acquiesced. “Fine.”
“Fine.” He grinned, determined to discover what her favorite meal was before they left. Maybe a call to her father would do it.
She cleared her throat. “Will I see you tomorrow?”
Kevin pulled up his Outlook and ran the mouse over the week. Tuesday. He had arms training until late afternoon. “Maybe. How about I call you when I’m done on base? We could meet for dinner.”
“I could make you dinner if you’d like. Just swing by whenever you’re done. I’ll be here.”
“You’re going to cook for me?”
“Sure. Why not? You’re a brave man, aren’t you?”
Yeah. Either that or he was a coward, because he wanted to make his relationship with her more, a lot more, but he hesitated. He couldn’t get past the stumbling block of her past. What if she said no? What if she couldn’t handle the lifestyle?
She’d already turned her back on it once. Would she turn her back on him because of it?
“I’ll be there with bells on.” Kevin hung up the phone, and his hand shook for a fraction of a second. God, what was he thinking? Sleeping with her? Definitely. She was a beautiful, giving person. Being in the same room with her made him ache with want. But marriage? A lifetime?
Swallowing hard, he got up from his desk and opened the small locker in the corner to get his running pants and sneakers before hitting the gym.
He took his cell, clipping it to his waistband as he left his office for a much-needed, mind-clearing run, and ignored the sound of his office phone jangling behind him.
Outside, the fresh air did wonders for putting him in a better frame of mind. After a quick stop at the gym to change, he took his workout back outdoors.
Each step led him to one truth—Valerie.
Knowing that the desire for her to be in his life long-term existed shook him, and excited him. Stopping short, he bent over, hands on his knees, and breathed deeply. Peace settled within him, because finally, he knew exactly what he needed to do and where he was going.
Now he had to convince Valerie to accompany him.
~*~*~
“I need you to meet me at the bank, Cheryl. Can you run over to my house and get the small envelope for me? It’s taped to the inside of the top of the firebox in my study.”
“All right, all right. But you owe me. I’m going to miss the end of my spin class for this.”
Kevin blew out a breath in relief. “Great. I do. I owe you, big time.”
“This is about that ring, isn’t it? Your grandmother’s. Holy crap, Kevin. You’re going to ask Valerie to marry you, aren’t you?”
He was going to ask Valerie to marry him. She was the one. He swallowed hard. “Look, I can’t talk now. My office phone’s ringing. I’ve got a half dozen voicemails to check on. I’ll see you in an hour.”
He hung up without giving her a chance to say goodbye, knowing she would hound him to no end, and picked up his phone. “Morgan.”
“Captain Morgan, I need to see you in my office right now.” General Standish didn’t need an introduction. The familiarity of his voice rang through the line loud and clear. It was the urgency that had Kevin’s heart pounding.
“Yes, sir.”
Kevin checked his appearance in the mirror on the back of his door and retrieved his patrol cap from the top of the file cabinet. He reminded himself that General Standish could not possibly know his intentions, as he’d only recently figured them out himself.
But still, he had to rub his hands down the side of his pants to dry them as he approached his superior officer’s desk. “Sir?”
Standish rose, a look of concern on his face. “I have orders here for the team. You’ll need to leave right away. There’s a flight itinerary that details your travel. First stop, DC. Then on to Germany, where you’ll meet up with Commander Beckett.”
Kevin shoved the civilian side of his brain into the hole he’d created years ago for this very purpose. Business at hand, he scanned the papers Standish handed him. “We’re working with the Seals on this one?”
“Yeah. You know Beckett and have worked with him before.”
Yes, he had. And though he admired the man and trusted his judgment in the field, there were other candidates he’d rather work with. Call it instinct, call it bias, but Kevin didn’t like a man who openly referred to his privates as Big Johnson’s boys.
“You know how I love being a chauffeur.”
“Think of the tips,” Standish rebutted drily. With a nod toward the door, dismissing Kevin, he added, “Gather your men.”
“Yes, sir.” Kevin saluted and turned to leave but before he reached the doorway, Standish spoke. “Oh, and Captain Morgan?”
“Sir?”
“Be sure you call Valerie before you fly out.” A warning, for sure.
The man’s acknowledgment of their relationship surprised Kevin, and he took the warning to heart, knowing that if he left without calling, he would hurt her. “General Standish, my intentions are honorable.”
Though Standish cleared his throat uncomfortably, some of the tension in his stance eased. “She hasn’t had it easy.”
“I know. I won’t hurt her.” Kevin struggled with his indecision before blurting out, “I’d like your permission to ask her to marry me, sir.”
“Well, hell.” Standish dropped into his chair. He rubbed a hand over his face, and Kevin worried that the shock might have been too much.
“Sir?”
Standish revealed a face full of laughter, his deep booming laugh echoed through the corridor. “You’ll have to tell me how that goes.”
Kevin shook his head as he left the general’s office. He’d never been laughed out of a relationship, but hey—
There was a first for everything.
“Oh, damn.” Kevin ran back and stuck his head through the doorway. “What’s Valerie’s favorite food?”
~*~*~
“Howdy.” Amidst the chaos of TJ Maxx shopping, Valerie answered her cell phone. Classes done for the day, she’d spent an hour working on her thesis and still got out for a little shopping.
What did a woman wear to meet her boyfriend’s mother, anyway?
“Valerie?”
“Kevin. It seems like all we’ve done for the past few days is talk on the phone. I can’t wait until dinner tomorrow.” She flipped through a rack with cute spring knit tops in an array of pastel colors before turning to one filled with jewel-toned, provocative tops. Lowering her voice, she teased him. “I’ve got a slinky, deep red silk top with a fabulous V in the front. It’s in my hand right now. Off-the-rack clearance, only twelve dollars. The price is enough to thrill me. What do you think? Will that work for you?”
Kevin’s wheezing laugh was muffled by what could only be the static of a windy day. Or a motor in the background. A big one, like a plane. Valerie paused, her eyes closing. No. No. No.
“Babe, I would love to see you in anything right now.” Regret filled his voice. “But I’m getting on a plane as we speak.”
Yes, she’d known this was coming. The disappointment hit her like it shouldn’t have, but this was life—military life as she knew it. And she realized the feeling that choked her wasn’t disappointment.
Slowly she returned her chosen items to the rack.
It was foolishness and humiliation. She’d been had, after all.
She felt stupid for thinking this time would be different.
Kevin called her name sharply, as if he’d done so already a few times.
“I’m still here,” she said.
“I’m sorry, Valerie.”
“It’s okay,” she insisted. “This is part of life. We both know it. Don’t be sorry. Hey, I’ll see you when you get back, okay?” On second thought, she retrieved the red silk shirt and hugged it to herself. “Be safe, okay?”
He must have walked nearer to the aircraft, because his voice was lost in the noise, but she could have sworn he s
aid I love you.
Then he was gone.
Chapter Ten
Sweat dripped from Kevin’s head onto the map-covered table. They’d made about fifty runs to the drop-off and pick-up zone in the last two weeks. His men were tired but going strong.
“Captain, the last of the Seals have flown out with Otto and Tyler.”
With a nod, Kevin folded the map in front of him. “Good. Let’s start breaking down camp. Five hours, and we’re going home.”
“Hoo-ah,” Specialist Quinn sang out with a grin. “We are finally out of this fucking sandbox. You know, it’s spring back home. The tulips are coming up and the trees are filling out. Damn, I know we haven’t been gone that long, but it’s always nice to go back.”
Kevin thought the same thing. And as the afternoon progressed, he began planning how he could put together the best salmon and shrimp ceviche Valerie had ever experienced. He wanted it to be perfect—a perfect meal, perfect mood, perfect company. Grand scheme to get a ring on her finger or not, he wanted to be with her.
With a self-conscious look around, he brought himself back to the task at hand. As the last tent was taken down, Kevin nodded at Quinn to radio the chopper.
At the sound of a car coming down the road through the scraggly brush, he turned to see and whistled, signaling for everyone to be on alert.
The driver smiled. Kevin recognized the face of one of the local merchants.
“ETA twelve minutes,” Quinn reported of the helicopter.
The car continued past their location, the driver giving him a slight nod of acknowledgment and a wave.
The rotors of the chopper drummed in the distance.
He smiled when a vision of Valerie came to him, the easy way she laughed, her cynical edge, ready to question any unspoken promises. She was a pistol, his Valerie, and she was never out of his mind for long these days.
One question remained. Could he charm her back into the military life?
“Yo, Capt’n. Look.”
He turned. The small foreign car sat ten yards down the road. The driver was on a cell phone and waving his arms emphatically. He had a flat tire.
Kevin couldn’t help it. He groaned inwardly and, at the same time, waved his men back. The helicopter was in sight. If he hurried, he could assist the stranded motorist without delaying their departure while everyone else loaded for take-off.
He jogged a few yards then slowed.
The man gave Kevin a deliberate look. His smile came up on one side, tilting his mustache. A glint—there was no other way to describe it—appeared in his eye.
The man spoke one word into his phone.
Kevin took a step back, instinct and survival racing through his veins.
The unexpectedly snazzy phone slid shut.
Kevin ran toward the helicopter, yelling, “Back! Get down! Down, down, down!”
An explosion lifted him from the ground. Glass flew past him, striking him like needles—his neck, through his fatigues to his arms and back. Jesus, not good. The ground came at him like a Mack truck, and he slammed into it.
For a brief moment, the world tilted around him, forcing him to close his eyes. When he shook it off and opened his eyes again, Tyler and Quinn were running to him.
Kevin dragged himself to his knees and stumbled to his feet.
Strong arms hoisted his body and dragged him toward the chopper.
His vision hazed at the edges, and he wondered if a storm was brewing. No. The sun shone too brightly, hurting his head with every step.
At the helicopter, he lifted his leg but fumbled the movement. Tyler jumped up and grabbed him under the arms.
Pain mauled his shoulder and he moaned as consciousness slipped.
“There’s lots of bleeding,” his medic, Jeremiah, spoke over the sound of the rotors. Jer stuck him. An IV. “The shoulder’s dislocated.”
“He hit the ground like a ragdoll.”
Tyler?
The sounds around him began to fade.
“…fucking glass everywhere, must have been a trunk full…”
“Gently…”
“Radio ahead, Quinn. Find out…”
Then, sweet oblivion as the thwap of the helicopter finally faded.
~*~*~
Growing up, Valerie had hated how close the military family seemed. Like fish in a fishbowl, she’d constantly been on display. What’s Standish’s daughter doing this weekend? Where did she eat dinner? Who is she dating?
Valerie bit her lip. Her experience as a resentful adolescent seemed far too petty, far too self-indulgent when now, she had no idea what was going on. No one would talk to her because she wasn’t part of the military family. Even her dad had gently redirected her questions, explaining only that Kevin would be home soon. Not to worry.
Cheryl mentioned that his team had returned. Not days ago either, but had been home for a week and a half.
In the quiet of the evenings, her temper would begin to boil. If this was his way of letting her down easy, of breaking things off…
Well, tonight she wasn’t going to take it anymore.
Perhaps he was home or maybe he wasn’t, but either way Valerie was going to find out for herself.
In that red silk shirt with her tight jeans and high-heeled strappy shoes, she was armed to conquer.
Now, she just had to find him.
If he wanted out, he would get his out, but not without seeing exactly what he was giving up. Taking her purse from the hook by the door, she strode to her car and climbed in. She pulled the mirror down, picked up the deep red lipstick from the console and applied it. There. Ready.
The drive didn’t take long. A short fifteen minutes to his house—his dark house. His big black truck occupied the driveway.
Nerves struck. Her stomach clenched.
What was she doing? Self-torture was hardly her cup of tea. He was gone, like her dad had said. He’d probably taken his leave, needing that break. She knew he needed it. Hadn’t he said so?
She turned off the car and opened her door.
The evening silence calmed her. The warm spring air brushed against her cheeks. She sighed as she strolled to Kevin’s front porch and sat on the top step.
Funny how she didn’t feel lonely here. His presence existed. The aura, the vibes. Whatever it was. Her memories, she supposed, feeling silly at her fanciful thoughts.
“Hello there!”
Valerie looked up.
An old lady with frizzy white hair stood at the fence on the opposite side of the driveway. The pink floral housecoat could have been a tribute to the late hour or perhaps she always wore it.
Rising with a smile, Valerie sent the stranger a wave. “Hi.”
“You looking for Kevin?” Her narrowed eyes deepened the wrinkles on her forehead, giving her the look of an old schoolmarm.
“Yeah. I was hoping—”
“You’re that gal. The one who’s been coming around.”
Valerie’s brow rose of its own volition. “I might be.”
“Sure. I recognized your car right away. Nothing gets by me.”
Amused more than offended, Valerie shrugged and ran a hand through her hair with a short laugh. “We’re friends—”
“Huh. Friends?” The woman’s brow furrowed even deeper. She harrumphed. “Seems like a friend wouldn’t up and disappear when things got tough. In my day, it meant something to serve your country.”
Valerie’s heart stopped. Tough?
Less amused, even a little frightened and not sure if she should be offended, Valerie kept her poise with a polite smile. “I guess I’ll have to fix that, won’t I? You wouldn’t happen to know where I can find Captain Morgan, would you?”
The woman sniffed. “They don’t tell me nuthin’. But I send cards, mind you. They go straight to the Commanding General. Yes, they do. I got the address programmed into my iPhone. You got one of those things? Handy little contraptions, aren’t they?”
“Yes.” Distracted by her own rising conce
rn, Valerie thanked the woman and promised to let her know if she found anything new. Somehow she made it to her car and onto the road. Taking a deep breath as another mile flew by, she found herself driving the familiar roads to her father’s house. He’d evaded her concerns and direct questioning.
His driveway met the road a quarter of a mile from the house. She slowed as she turned onto it and approached the front gardens where she parked the car.
His gardener could take most of the credit, though on occasion during the summers, she’d seen her father tending the vegetables that ran the length of the side of the house.
The motion lights flicked on when she hit the front walk in her heels, illuminating the tulips that outlined the yard along with the knee-high white picket fence.
She hadn’t grown up here.
Too bad.
The higher his rank, the less he transferred. She was happy for him. After all these years, he’d settled nicely.
Valerie knocked on the oversized wood door and waited a few moments before he opened it in a comfortable pair of jeans and flannel shirt. Sawdust covered his shoulders. He smelled of walnut—earthy and sweet.
“Mmm. Hi, Dad. Working in your woodshop?”
“Finishing up, right now.”
Kissing his cheek, she walked past him and into the living room. Dark tones, dark wood, and beautiful Tiffany lighting created a gem of warmth and masculinity in her favorite room of the house.
Turning, she used his silence to order her own thoughts. “I need to find Kevin.”
The slight slump in his shoulders sent guilt to her conscience. She stiffened her spine though.
“Honey, he’s busy right now, recuperating.” He frowned when she sucked in a breath. “I shouldn’t have to explain this to you after all these years.”
Her dad fidgeted with the chisel in his hand and paced to the large picture window that looked over the front yard. When he turned to her, there was uncertainty in his eyes. “I’m sure when he gets back, he’ll call you.”
But she wasn’t sure anymore.
“He’s hurt, isn’t he?”
