by RC Boldt
“Kavanaugh,” Kane tossed back with an easy grin, totally uncaring that he was poking the bear.
“So, you guys,” Laney led in, obviously recognizing the tense situation and deciding to steer it in a safer direction. Miller felt his shoulders relax.
Until her next words.
“Does everyone know that Miller and Tate are together again?”
He felt Tate go eerily still beside him at Laney’s words. And, hell if that didn’t make him uneasy.
* * *
Shit, shit, shit. What the hell was Laney thinking saying that? They had just talked about that earlier, for crying out loud!
Eyes flying to her friend accusingly, she instantly saw the apology written all over Laney’s face. Knew that her friend had probably grasped for something to help salvage the dinner conversation and hadn’t thought. That didn’t mean she had to like it, however.
Momma K.’s eyes lit up while Laney and Raine both looked on with uneasy expressions. “Is that so?” the older woman asked.
“Um, I …” Tate trailed off, unsure of how to answer. She turned to Miller with a pleading look.
His expression was guarded and she couldn’t quite decipher the look in his eyes. His gaze held hers for a split second before focusing on Momma K. with a smile. Just as he opened his mouth to speak, Pearce chimed in.
“It pains me to admit that I’m no longer in the running for this sweet woman’s affections.” He gave a long, drawn out sigh. He met Miller’s gaze over top her head and gave a quick wink.
“So, Vaughn, if I might be so bold as to make a suggestion as to how to convince Tate you’re serious about her,” Lawson began and they all collectively groaned. With his attention on Miller, he said, “I bet if you get a ‘love fern’ and manage to keep it alive, it’ll convince her you’re for real.”
They all stared at Lawson. Even Momma K. appeared dumbfounded.
“A love fern …” Miller repeated uncertainly, giving a slow nod. “Huh. I’ll take that into consideration.”
“Which means he’s dismissing it, right now,” Zach said under his breath.
Lawson shook his head. “I’m telling you, man. That’s the way to go about it.”
Laney scoffed. “Says the man who inserted a cue card about boning into my presentation for Zach.”
Lawson held up his hands. “What? Like that wasn’t memorable? Clearly it was since you’re still talking about it nearly a year later.”
Laney rolled her eyes, returning to finishing her last bite of orecchiette pasta.
Yep, it was just another typical Sunday night dinner at Momma K.’s with her friends.
And Tate wouldn’t change a single thing.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
“CAN YOU PLEASE STOP WITH the bodywash shit already?” Miller yelled from inside his bathroom. Kane had been leaving little travel-sized mango scented bodywash containers for him.
“But I thought you’d enjoy lathering up and smelling like your woman.” Kane’s voice carried in from the living room.
Seriously? Did the guy buy an entire case? Because he was looking at probably twenty bottles now. This was getting out of hand.
“Fucker,” Miller muttered to himself as he placed the newest addition under the sink.
“Stop with the dirty talk, son.” Kane’s southern drawl seemed especially pronounced, his voice getting closer. “You know it gets me all hot and bothered.” He stopped in the doorway of the bathroom.
“Dude. Stop buying this shit.”
“Just trying to help a brother out.”
“No, you’re not. You’re trying to piss me off.”
Kane’s face broke into a smile. “Oh, darlin’. I wouldn’t ever try and do that.”
The two men stared at one another before Kane smirked. “Besides. It was either this or a ‘love fern’. I figured I made the better choice.”
Miller scrubbed his hands over his face, muttering, “Why me?”
“Because you’re loved, buttercup. Because you’re loved.”
Wearily, Miller fixed his gaze on his friend, hopeful. “And if I request for you to stop loving me?”
Kane shook his head before making a fist and bringing it up as a pretend microphone, singing, “I’m gonna keep on lovin’ you, ’cause it’s the only thing I wanna do.”
Was he actually singing REO Speedwagon? Great. Now, he was going to have that damn song in his head all day.
Kane sang on, getting into it, now, his voice growing louder.
“Windham?”
Kane immediately ceased his singing. “Yeah, Vaughn?”
“If anyone else hears about you serenading me, you know they’ll give us shit for days.”
Kane made a face. “Of course.” Then, his eyes lit up with dawning realization at what Miller was getting at. He held out a hand and Miller gave it a brief shake.
A second later, he and Kane broke out their best rendition of REO Speedwagon’s “Keep On Loving You”, playing the imaginary drums and guitar intermittently, their voices carrying throughout the otherwise quiet house.
Yeah. Even with all the shit-talking, he wouldn’t trade his friends for the world.
He just wished they’d stop with the whole “love fern” shit already.
* * *
“Hey, Tate? Do you have an extra laminated Venn Diagram chart that you don’t need?” Raine popped into Tate’s classroom. It was Thursday following dismissal and neither of them had afternoon bus or carpool duty.
She wrinkled her brow in thought. “I think so. Let me check in the closet. I might have one stashed back there.” She walked back with her key to unlock the door to the walk-in storage closet, Raine following behind.
“Any news with you and Miller?” Raine asked casually.
“Nope.”
“Bummer.”
Tate rolled her eyes, opening the door and they both entered. She headed over to one of the tall shelving units which held extra pocket charts along with other laminated charts. “Oooh, I think there’s one or two in this stack.”
“So, no comment?” Raine prodded.
“Raine,” she said her friend’s name on a sigh.
“Tate,” Raine mimicked.
Tate pulled the requested chart from the stack, handing it to her friend. “Here you go.”’
“Awesome! Thanks, sweetie. You’re a lifesaver.” Raine held the chart in her hands and the two women exited the closet. “Are you coming over tomorrow night?”
“Of course.” After locking the closet, she turned to her friend. “You want me to bring anything in particular?”
“Hmm.” Raine considered her question for a moment. “I don’t know that we’ll need much of anything. Mac wants to try out his new grill so we’ll be cooking all kinds of stuff.” She broke off with a laugh. “He’s like a kid at Christmas. He practically bought out the grocery store.”
“Men and their toys.” Her classroom door opened midway through her sentence, Pearce and Lawson entering, letting the door fall closed behind them.
“Hey, hey, ladies,” Lawson greeted them. “What’s the good word?”
“The good word is we’re getting together tomorrow night and Mac’s cooking on the new grill.”
“Sweet! I’ll be there with bells on.” Lawson paused. “Is everyone going to make it?”
Tate and Raine exchanged a curious look before Raine asked, pointedly, “Who exactly are you asking about, Laws?”
Pearce laughed. “Yeah, man. That was the furthest thing from subtle.”
Lawson attempted nonchalance. “Just wondered if maybe Langley would be there.”
Oh? Lawson was asking about Foster’s new hire? Hmmm. That was decidedly interesting.
“I’m not sure,” Raine answered slowly. “You could check and see if Foster knows.” She turned to Tate. “We should probably exchange numbers with her because, God knows, being surrounded by men is sure to be trying at times.”
“I think Langley is used to that, Raine,” Pearce to
ld her.
“Still,” Raine protested. “Every woman needs a support system of sorts. Especially if she doesn’t have family in the area or whatnot.”
Pearce shrugged. “Just don’t get offended if she’s a bit resistant to it. Being one of the few females the military beta tested in the inclusion of women in the Special Ops field, she’s had to put up with a buttload of crap and worked hard to eliminate any obvious feminine tendencies.”
Tate’s classroom door opened and Mac entered. “Having a get together without me?” He walked over to Raine, pressing a quick kiss to her forehead. “You should have been at carpool duty today.” He shook his head in disbelief. “There was a mother who went ballistic because she complained that Zach was treating her daughter, and I quote, ‘like a dog’. Because he politely asked the girl to stop kicking up the dirt along the sidewalk where they were all standing.”
Raine made a face. “Seriously?”
Mac blew out a long breath. “I had a dozen students still, so Laney walked over since her group of students had been picked up already and tried to referee things. The mom went off on her and called her a slutbag.”
“What?” They all stared at him in shock.
“Yep. So out comes Mr. Pratt and, man, the guy had steam practically coming out of his ears.” Mac chuckled. “He walked up to her and told her that she was verbally assaulting his teachers and he wouldn’t think twice about calling the police to report her. Needless to say, she turned and ran back to her car, peeling out of the parking lot.”
Pearce was wide-eyed. “Geez. That’s crazy, man.”
“Tell me about it.”
“You get all the excitement,” Lawson remarked.
Mac gave a humorless laugh. “Yeah, well, I could totally do without that kind of excitement, as I’m sure Zach and Laney feel the same.”
“Speaking of couples,” Pearce led in. “What’s the verdict with you and Vaughn?”
Tate blew out a long breath. “You guys are wearing me thin asking me all the time.”
“Because we want to see you both happy.”
Turning to Raine, she said, “But we are happy.”
“But wouldn’t you be happier if you …”
“Put a label on it?” Tate offered with a hint of sarcasm.
“Yes.”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because—”
“Because,” Pearce interrupted, “she’s—”
“Scared,” her friends said in unison.
Tate threw her hands up. “Seriously, you guys? Can you stop ganging up on me about this? Just let it go.” She walked over to her desk, beginning to pack up her bag to head home. The silence held and she was hesitant to look over at where her friends still stood. Pearce was the one who broke the silence.
“It’s because we care, Tate.” His tone was gentle.
“This is true,” Lawson added, sliding his hands into the pockets of his khakis. “We show our love by means of harassment. You should know this by now.”
Offering a weak smile, Tate nodded. “I know, Laws. I know.”
“So, we should lay off? Is that what you’re saying?”
Wearing a hopeful expression, she asked, “If I said yes, would you?”
Lawson’s look was one of utter seriousness and he responded without any hesitation, “If you truly ask anything of any of us, I can pretty much confirm that we’d do it in a heartbeat.”
Tate felt herself go soft at Lawson’s immediate reply. Because she knew he was telling the truth. And as her gaze swept over the rest of her friends, seeing them nod in affirmation, she was further reminded of how lucky she was to call these people her friends.
“But I still want first dibs on being a godparent.”
And there was Lawson. Always pushing the envelope.
Tate,
We did some really crazy shit last night. This morning. Hell, I don’t even know what time zone I’m in right now. I should be sleeping but I’m still wound up from our mission. It was successful. Messy, but successful. The best part about it was doing a HALO, high altitude, low opening. We basically don’t open our parachutes until pretty damn late. Timing is everything. But, we did it, got in and out and no additional holes accounted for, as Shaw likes to say.
I had a dream about you the other night. I dreamt I was stateside and ran into you. You were holding hands with this little girl who looked to be about five years old. She was beautiful, like you. She looked at me and said, “Daddy!”. Except just then a guy behind me called out to her and rushed to scoop her up in his arms. That dream fucked with my mind. Because for that split second, even though it was only a dream, the idea of you and I having a daughter made me feel happier than I’d ever been.
There has to be a way to get over you. This hurts way too much.
M.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
MILLER WAS LYING IN TATE’S bed, on his side as they faced one other, naked with the covers to their waist, talking. Well, it hadn’t started out with talking, of course. Hell, he didn’t think he’d ever be able to get his fill of her. And it wasn’t just hormonal. He really felt like they were … well, like they were making love.
Wow. How he’d managed to think that without throwing up in his mouth spoke volumes. The only problem was he felt like Tate was holding back.
Noticing the crease between her eyebrows, he reached out to smooth it with his index finger. “No frowning, ma’am,” he told her softly. “You’re too beautiful for that.”
He watched as her eyes softened at his words but he could still tell something was on her mind. “What is it?”
Tate studied him for a moment before she spoke, her tone subdued. “I wondered about your scars, mainly the one I felt in your scalp in the back.” Quickly, she added, “But, if you don’t want to talk about it …”
“It’s fine.” His fingers traced a path from her shoulder down her arm, his eyes following it, deep in thought. Inhaling deeply, he forged on, “Our guys got news about two aid workers—both women—who were kidnapped by Somali pirates and taken to their compound. They were kept outside in the elements, forced on a starvation diet for months.”
He gave a humorless laugh. “The stupid Somali pirates expected the US to pay eighty million dollars in ransom. They sent periodic video calls for proof of life. But it was in the final one where the one woman said that she believed she had a severe urinary tract infection and it had become so bad, so painful that she could barely move. Our government consulted with physicians who, after going over what the woman described, determined that her infection had spread to her kidneys and she would die within a matter of days if we didn’t take action.
“The stars aligned that night because it just so happened there was going to be a new moon. And, you know,” he gave a half smile, “we operate best under the cover of darkness.”
He blew out a long breath as his mind went back to that night. “We parachuted in from a C-130 Hercules about eight miles away from the compound where the two were being held. We traveled to it on foot, found the two hostages, and engaged in brief firefight with the pirates, killing all of them.
“We split off into groups—one half of our group took the one woman while we took the other—hustling our way back to the drop zone and Hendy thought he detected something. And, when Hendy says something like that, everyone pays attention. Because, I swear, that guy normally has some sort of sixth sense.
“Luckily, nothing transpired, but just the same, we immediately stopped, laid the woman down on the ground and laid around her, covering her with our bodies in case of enemy fire.”
He looked up at Tate’s indrawn breath. Her eyes were wide with a dawning realization. “I remember hearing about that rescue.”
At his nod, she added, “I cried during the woman’s interview. It was so awe-inspiring and emotional. She said you laid there, protecting her with your bodies, that she was in awe that men she didn’t know, would be so willing to take a bullet for
a complete stranger.” Tate’s voice grew hoarse.
“That’s our job.” Clearing his own throat, emotion making it tight as he recalled the rescue, he continued. “Anyway, once we determined the threat was a non-issue, we made our way to the drop zone and the chopper met us.” He broke off with a small smile. “As soon as she was safely on board, it took off and we went on our own way.”
Tate frowned. “But … you didn’t go with her?”
Miller shook his head. “No. The hostages had to be flown out to the nearest base. They had medical personnel flying with them since the woman desperately needed to be treated. We, on the other hand, still had another job to do. Our intel said that these Somali pirates worked closely with Al-Qaeda and there was another compound not far from where we were.
“That was when Hendy’s freaky sense of impending danger actually came to fruition. Because after we had trekked another eight miles northeast,” Miller paused, a grim look upon his face, blue eyes focused on her, “shit hit the proverbial fan.”
* * *
Tate felt her stomach flip at Miller’s words. Felt the impending trouble that was certain to follow, to be described. She watched as he laid on his back, folding one arm up and resting the palm of his hand beneath his head. He was staring up at the ceiling, gaze unseeing, mind a million miles away lost in memories.
“We were supposed to gather some intel on the other compound, see if our HVT—high value target—was there. We weren’t supposed to engage. It was supposed to be quick recon.” Miller huffed, shaking his head. “Instead, some young Somali teen, armed with an AK-47, higher than a kite from chewing on khat came out of nowhere.”
Tate’s brows furrowed. “Khat?”
“It’s a plant which grows wild around that area. They normally chew the leaves and stem tips and get high off of it. Pretty potent stuff.”
His jaw clenched and Tate laid a hand on his chest, feeling the tense muscles beneath her fingertips.
“So, he comes out of nowhere with a couple of goats, about to come right up to where we’re hiding. Problem is the rules of engagement are fucking ridiculous.” He broke off in obvious disgust.
