Love of a Marine (The Wounded Warriors Series Book 2)

by Patty Campbell

  Laughing, she handed him the package. “You don’t even know what bauru is, do you?”

  “Whatever this world-famous concoction is, I’m sure I’ll love it.” He removed the waxed paper package from the plastic bag and opened it. “Wow, it’s big. I confess my ignorance. What is bauru?” He studied the crusty roll and lifted the top to peek underneath.

  “It’s a Brazilian sandwich. Hollowed-out French roll filled with roast beef, tomatoes, pickles and oregano, and topped with slow-melted mozzarella. My mother, in Sao Paolo, taught me to make them her special way when I was a girl. Santos loves them.”

  “It’s huge.” He turned to the boy. “Were you planning to eat this whole thing by yourself, grasshopper?”

  Santos grinned through a mouthful of pastrami and nodded.

  “He could eat that and more,” Graciella said. “My lanky son has a hollow leg.”

  “So does my daddy.” Amber tapped her left shin. “But he couldn’t hide a sandwich in there.”

  Graciella’s cheeks got pink at Amber’s innocent comment.

  “Yep, old Dwayne has a hollow leg.” Cluny winked to reassure her not to be embarrassed.

  Santo’s eyes rounded when he spoke to Amber, “Your daddy has a hollow leg?”

  “Uh huh, his rill one got blowed off in the war.” She shrugged and took a big bite of sandwich.

  “Did it…?”

  To Graciella’s apparent relief, Cluny cut him off mid-sentence. “Eat up, soldier. I’m gonna challenge you to a footrace to the rocks and back. Think you can beat me?”

  Two hours later, Cluny packed up their beach supplies. “I’m taking Amber to her house. We gave Dwayne and Marla some alone time to rest on their first day home from the hospital. By now they’ll probably be ready for Amber to take over the baby. And she will, if I know her.” He grinned and shook his head.

  Graciella rolled her eyes. “I have a sister in Brazil who’s seven years younger than me. I know what’s in store for that baby boy. Amber will be his third parent, whether he likes it or not.”

  “You got that right. I offered to bring take-out for dinner tonight. Marla will be back on her feet in the morning, running her household like a battlefield general. She’s a terrific woman. My buddy is a lucky guy.”

  “Amber said you and he have known each other since school days. How wonderful to maintain such a long friendship. Is he from Spring Grove?”

  “He was born there, but when he was fourteen or fifteen he and his mother moved to her dad’s cattle ranch in Wyoming. That’s where we met in junior high school. We’re both a couple of ah-shucks cowboys at heart.”

  “I envy you. I left all my friends and family in Brazil when I married Marvin. I have many acquaintances, but the woman I see the most of here is Marvin’s younger sister, Krystal. She’s a royal pain in the arse, if you’ll pardon my unladylike comment.” She smiled when Cluny’s eyebrows went up. “I know you’ve heard worse, Macfearsome. I put up with Krystal for Santos’s sake. My Jefferson in-laws love their grandson. He’s all they have left of Marvin.”

  “I don’t have any brothers and sisters. Dwayne is like a brother to me. That’s why I followed him to California when his dad asked him to take over the family construction business. And by then I was in love with baby Amber.”

  “Do you work for Amber’s father? I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be so nosy.”

  “I don’t mind.” He stood and brushed sand from his knees. “No, I have my own plumbing company, but we often work on the same projects. I throw some business his way and he reciprocates.”

  “Do you have something to write on? I’ll give you my address and I will make good on that dinner offer.”

  “No, I don’t. Where’s your phone?”

  “Right here.” She dug in her picnic basket and produced her cell phone. When she handed it over their fingers brushed, sending a buzz through him. She quickly looked away. Had she felt it too?

  “I’ll program in my phone number. Call me when you get time.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Spring Grove

  Cluny’s headlights glanced off Misty Beachy’s Jeep parked in front of his house when he pulled into his driveway that night. She waved from the top step where she sat under the bright light on his porch.

  Cluny dropped the keys in his pocket, strolled up the walk, and sat next to her. Queen followed and settled at his feet. “Hey, sweet lips. What’re you doing here? It’s been months since you last darkened my doorstep.” He and the former Marine had history.

  “Hey, Mac, Queenie.” She leaned in and kissed his cheek. “I’m on my way to work in San Diego after visiting my parents in Portland. Thought I’d stop in, hang out with you, and ask if I could bunk here tonight. I could use some of your TLC.”

  He put his arm around her shoulders. “You’re welcome to stay, but I haven’t been sleeping too…”

  “The nightmares? Don’t worry about it. I’ll snuggle with you.”

  He squeezed her shoulder. “That’s what Queen does.”

  “You help me and I’ll help you, my old friend.”

  “I’ve missed you, Mis.” He stood and unlocked his front door. “Let’s go inside. Do you have a bag?”

  She tilted her chin at the Jeep. “I’ll get it.”

  “I’ll put on the teapot. I could use a cup of hot chocolate. How about you?”

  “Sounds good. Be right there.”

  A couple of minutes later she was back. “I’ll put this in the bedroom, Mac. Put lots of marshmallows on mine.” She walked through the bare dining room. “Hey, when are you going to put some furniture in here? You have so many empty rooms in this big house, it echoes.”

  “Come live with me and I’ll furnish it any way you like,” Cluny teased, and removed Queen’s vest. “Looks like you’ll be sleeping on the floor tonight, girl.” He took oversize mugs from the cupboard and scooped chocolate powder mix into each one.

  Misty came up behind him and put her arms around his waist and rested her cheek on his broad shoulder. “How you been, buddy? How’re Gunny, Jack, and Slim? Anything new?”

  “Dwayne and Marla had a baby boy. Named him Declan.”

  “What happens when the Dempsey clan runs out of D’s?”

  He laughed. “Could be soon, Marla’s twin sister’s married to Donovan. They’ll be on the baby bandwagon before long, I expect.”

  “They live around here?”

  “No. He’s a drill instructor at Kaneohe.”

  “Sweet duty assignment. He staying in?”

  “Looks like.”

  Misty poured boiling water in the cups while he stirred. “Remember how we used to make cocoa late at night at FOB Fallujah?”

  “Yep. We had the chow hall all to ourselves.” After piling too many marshmallows on top, he gingerly carried the mugs to the table. “These are too hot. Let’s catch up for a while and let ’em cool off.” He turned and kissed her. “What kinda trouble you been in lately?” He pulled out a chair for her.

  “The usual. I screwed up another relationship. I don’t want to talk about it. Tell me how the business is going.” She sat across from him at his small kitchen table and reached for his hand.

  Queen lapped at her water dish, pushed through the doggie door, and ambled outside.

  “Business is good. We’re closed for another week. I let my guys take vacation at the same time.”

  “Anybody I know?” She shifted in the chair and yawned.

  “I doubt it. They’re both ex-military, but one’s army and the other’s air force. They’re good men. I was lucky to find them.”

  She grinned. “I suspect they were the lucky ones, Mac.”

  “You’re the only person who ever called me Mac.”

  “It suits you.”

  “I met a nine-year-old kid at the beach a few days ago.” He chuckled. “He calls me Macfearsome. His name is Santos Jefferson. His dad was a SEAL.”

  “Was?”

  Lips pressed tight, he nodded. “Killed outs
ide Fallujah. Around the same time you, Gunny, and I bit it.”

  “Poor kid. He must not remember his dad after all these years.”

  “Never even met him. Carries his picture around.” He shook himself. “Enough about me. How’s it working out for you at Customs? What’s your assignment?” He didn’t ask her about the blown relationship. She’d work up to it and confide in him on her own schedule. Her attractive face carried wounds that only those who’d known her before the deadly battle in Iraq could see. Her right iris was slightly distorted and a small piece of her right ear was missing. Driving a truck in the convoy, she’d been caught in a deadly spray of shrapnel, and hearing in the right ear had been permanently damaged. Vision in her right eye was mostly restored since she’d undergone several eye surgeries. She’d disguised the scar on her shoulder with an ironic tattoo, I believe in love. Leave it to Beachy.

  “You’ll never guess, so I’ll tell you. I train sniffer dogs.”

  “No shit?” He raised his eyebrows and reared back.

  “No shit.” Misty shook her head and grinned.

  “I thought for sure you’d be toting a big weapon and arresting bad guys.” Cluny tested his hot chocolate, sucked some marshmallows into his mouth, and shook his head. “Still too hot.” Misty’s brown eyes contrasted with her natural blond hair in a way that stunned every man who’d ever met her. The deceptively feminine appearance hid the toughness underneath.

  “Mmm.” She rolled her eyes, ecstasy on her face. “Nothing is as good as melted or toasted marshmallows.”

  He winked. “Nothing?”

  “Nope. Not since we parted friends. Slim pickings out there.”

  Mis closely guarded her feminine softness. He suspected he was one of a very limited number of men who’d been privileged to touch that side of her.

  “You always were choosy. How’d I get so lucky?” He took a couple of careful sips of his steaming cocoa. Misty Beachy looked nothing like a battle-hardened soldier. She could have been a cover model. Instead she’d joined the U.S. Marines and served two tours in a combat zone. Nobody messed with her. Master Sgt Beachy was tempered steel.

  “Other guys lied to me. Said they loved me just to get me in the sack. You never lied, Mac. You just said what you wanted, then waited until I was ready to give it.”

  “You…uh, weren’t too lovable as I recall.” He cocked his head and smiled.

  “Yeah.” She huffed out a laugh. “The guys at the forward operating base weren’t talking about the latest Japanese sports car when they called me Misty Bitchy behind my back.”

  He pointed his finger at her nose. “You always out-manned the men. That pissed them off.”

  She flipped her hand, dismissing his comment. “They were pissed because you were the only soldier I ever let crawl into my bunk, and you wouldn’t yap about it later.”

  “Yeah, it drove ’em nuts.” Cluny remembered those days at the base in Iraq. Most female soldiers stationed there built invisible don’t touch barriers around themselves, but a few had a come-and-get-it-boys policy. Ironically, tough-talking, untouchable, MSgt. Beachy took him to her bed. He’d paid for the rewards of those hot, war-desperate nights in her billet with endless hazing from the guys in his unit.

  He reached for her hand. “Did I ever disrespect you, Mis?”

  “No, Mac. Never.” She winked and sipped the rest of the marshmallows off the top of her cup and rolled her eyes again. “You were always the perfect, appropriately grateful gentleman. I loved you for that. I still do.”

  He squeezed her hand. “You’re the only female best friend I’ve ever had, and I love you for that.”

  “Mac, come on. I want to talk about you. Share the nightmares. It’s been so many years since you got wounded. Is it getting better?”

  Beachy was the only person he’d ever completely bared his soul to. Talking to her sometimes gave him a lengthy respite from the PTS, but in spite of therapy, the passing of time, and Queen, it remained a persistent struggle. A struggle that prevented him from getting on with a healthy and rewarding personal life.

  “The flashbacks aren’t as frequent now, thank God. But I still wake up screaming and reliving that day. I taste the blood and feel the hot sand grinding into my hands. I couldn’t hear a thing for days afterward, so I don’t know I’m yelling until Queen wakes me. It’s a wonder my neighbors haven’t called the cops.”

  “Still not drinking?”

  “Clean as a whistle. Ancient history.”

  “Maybe you need more therapy. They’ve learned a lot since we were there. The old way was ‘Suck it up, soldier,’ but they’re coming to grips with it now. My grandfather told me he and his buddies were ashamed to talk about it. Some of the old guys are opening up, sharing their wartime experiences, because they see their sons and grandsons with the same invisible scars.”

  “Christ, I’m so sick of therapists. Endless talking doesn’t cut it. What scares me most is the thought of spending the night with a woman and waking up screaming.”

  Misty reached across the table and squeezed his hand. “Mac, there’s a woman out there for you. She’ll love you, she’ll accept it, and she’ll work with you. Don’t give up. You’re worth it. When you find her, she’ll be the lucky one.”

  He nodded, squeezed back. “I want to get married. Have kids.”

  She sat back and stared at him. “With me!”

  He nearly choked. “Heaven forbid.”

  “Good. You startled me for a minute. I thought you were going soft in the head.” She sipped the hot cocoa. “So who’s the lucky lady?”

  “Wish I knew.” He reached under the table to pat Queen’s head. “Nobody on the radar.”

  “What say I take a shower?” She stretched. “It was a very long drive today, and I’m totally wiped.”

  He grinned. “I’ll turn on the TV. We can cuddle on the couch and watch a shoot-em-up, blow-em-up war movie.”

  “I need a shoulder to lean on, Mac.”

  “I’ve got two of ’em.”

  He carried their half-full mugs to the sink. “Bedtime, Queenie. I’ll be snuggling with a different girl tonight.”

  Cluny followed Misty’s perfect ass to the bedroom. “What say we take a shower together for old time’s sake?” They weren’t a couple any longer, but that didn’t mean he was any less of a man. A man with a perfect memory.

  “Very funny.” She peeled off her shirt. “Go find a good movie.”

  Not surprised at her answer, he laughed and went to the living room and turned on the Military channel.

  Sunday morning

  Cluny woke on his big sofa completely rested. He’d slept straight through the night, wrapped in Beachy’s arms. Not a single nightmare. “Mis?”

  She called from the kitchen, “I’m making coffee. Go take your shower. I’ll have breakfast ready when you’re done.”

  Stretching, he smiled and hit the shower.

  The smoke alarm blared at the same moment he turned off the water. He bolted out of the bathroom, dripping wet, and ran to the kitchen. “Jesus, what are you doing? Trying to burn down my house?” He stood on tiptoe and switched it off. Water puddled on the floor at his feet.

  “I scorched some bacon.” She grinned and pointed the spatula at him. “You’re a magnificent specimen, Mac, but turn around now and find a bathrobe or put on some clothes. I have my limits.” She turned back to the stove.

  “You didn’t always.” He embraced her from behind. “Thank you for the best night’s sleep I’ve had in way too long.” He nipped her earlobe.

  “You’re entirely welcome, but you’re getting me wet!” She shrugged him off. “Now beat it. These pancakes are getting cold.”

  He returned to his bedroom, dried off, and dragged on a pair of shorts, showed up at the table, and was quickly ordered to get a shirt. “When did you get shy?”

  “Like I said, I have my limits.”

  He looked around the kitchen. “Where’s Queen?”

  “I unlocked her d
oor and let her out. I fed her too. Now, I’d like to feed you and be on my way. I have another long drive today. Shirt!”

  Cluny stood at attention, saluted, cast a snarky grin her way and said, “Yes ma’am, Master Sergeant, ma’am.”

  “And don’t you forget it.” She poked his bare chest.

  Misty’s pancakes were as delicious as he remembered. Even the burned bacon tasted good. He grinned through a big mouthful.

  She glared. “Don’t you dare speak until you swallow. I can’t believe you’re turning into such a slovenly pig. You need to find a full-time woman to shape you up. That’s an order.”

  “Hey!” He stared at her. “You want to drop in on Dwayne and Marla before you take off?”

  “Nah. I gotta get on the road. I’ll catch up with them at the reunion in July. Tell them I said ‘hi.’” Misty stabbed the air with her fork and smirked. “She still got that ring in Gunny Dempsey’s nose?”

  “Yep, and he’s loving every minute of it. Never saw him happier. You might consider it sometime, if you find the right guy.”

  “Not for me. The idea of marriage is a total turnoff.” She pinched her lips together and shrugged. “Not sure why, but as soon as the L word enters the conversation, I’m outta there.”

  “Too bad, Mis. You’d make some lucky man very happy.” He winked.

  “Not you though?” She arched an eyebrow.

  “You’re one of my best friends. Why would I want to take a chance of screwing that up?”

  “You know what? We’re weird, Mac. Even if you recorded this conversation, nobody would believe it.”

  “I don’t believe it myself. You show up every so often. No advance notice, just—there you are on my doorstep. We talk, we settle down in front of the TV, we cuddle the night away—you leave.” He grasped her hand. “Being your girlfriend is not very flattering to my massive male ego.”

  She squeezed his fingers. “Every time I leave here, Mac, I don’t expect there to be a next time. Then here I am using you again. I’m really screwed up.”