“I don’t think so, hon. He really likes you. Word on the street is he’s determined to make you his girlfriend,” she said.
I huffed out a breath. That was exactly what I didn’t need. If my mom heard about it, she’d either ban me from leaving the house or she’d encourage it to get me away from the base. “Well, do me a favor and put the word out on the street that I am not interested in Timothy. He actually approached me while I was in the truck with Ryan the other day. Mondo embarrassing.”
“Oh my God, you’re kidding,” she said.
“Not even a little bit. And it sucked. So yeah, I’m not into Timothy and I never will be.”
Paula smacked her lips and hummed – her telltale sign of contemplation.
“What?”
“Nothing, I just bet that the soldier dude was super jealous when that happened. I’d bet anything actually.”
“No, he wasn’t jealous.” He couldn’t have cared less. He drove off, most likely because Timothy overstepped his bounds and touched the car. I didn’t want to believe Ryan had any feelings for me, because if I let myself in on that possibility, I’d get my hopes up and only come crashing down.
“All right, so I’ll tell Timothy to back the fuck off because you don’t need no man,” Paula said. “Or I could tell him you’ve already got one.”
“Don’t start with me, woman.”
“Yeah, yeah. Well, if it weren’t for me you’d never have blown the cobwebs off your pussy.”
“You’re lucky I can’t slap you through the phone. Listen, I’ve got to go. I have to get some sleep before tomorrow. I have a full day of work –”
“And dirty, hot sex.”
“Work! Ahead of me.” I blushed despite my protest. I’d have loved another session with Ryan. He unlocked the passionate side of me, for sure.
“All right, baby doll. Sleep tight. Don’t let the soldiers bite. Unless it’s on your –”
“Byeee!” I hung up before she could finish the sentence. The woman was incorrigible. I wasn’t a prude, but Paula had always been a free soul. Free didn’t equal slutty. She was just uninhibited.
I envied her sometimes. She made snap decisions, where I spent ages deliberating over what to do or going back on what I’d decided. The only thing I could be decisive about was design. Perhaps, that was why I loved what I did so much.
I had a natural feel for it, whereas romance was beyond me.
I walked to my bed and sat down, then flopped back and stared at the ceiling with it’s boring bulb. Blegh, bland.
“Dad, I wish I could talk to you about everything. I wish I could ask you what you would do in this situation. Would you have left your mom’s house if she did this to you? Would you have run off to the big city?” I squeezed my eyes shut and blocked out the tears that pricked at their corners. “I just want a sign that everything is going to be okay.”
I waited and waited, the silence closing in around me, coating me in a layer of despair. Nothing came. No happy sign from my dad.
I got up and went to the desk instead, then sat down and opened one of the portfolios. I blinked and sucked in a breath.
A picture of my dad was stuck to the page, trapped between two swatches of fabric. I’d likely left it there after using it as a bookmark – a nice way to keep my father with me at all times.
“Thank you,” I said, and bowed my head. I let the tears fall.
Chapter 16
Ryan
“I appreciate your offer to come with,” Jack said, “but it won’t be necessary. I think I can handle this.” He reached for the list I’d printed out and I held it out of reach.
“No, this is a list for Miss Scott,” I said. “She specifically asked me to fetch this for her.”
“What is it?” Jack asked, then glanced left and right to make sure none of the other soldiers on base could hear our conversation. “Panties?”
“Jack, don’t make me put you down in front of everyone here. I’ve had enough of your insubordination.”
“Dude, chill. We’re friends, remember?”
I ignored him and walked around to the driver’s side of the vehicle. Not a chance would I let this asshole drive me into town like he was in charge of the supply run. I’d had enough of his attitude. If he pissed me off I’d drop him on the side of the road and make him run back.
Friends, ha. We hadn’t been friends since he’d shown his sneaky side.
I clunked the car door open, then folded the piece of paper and tucked it into my breast pocket. She’d handwritten it and given it to me this morning. I nearly pushed her into her room and took her right there.
Chanel stunned me with her ability to make me lose all sense of my self-control.
I hauled my ass into the vehicle, then waited for ass face to hop in beside me. I wasn’t interested in chatter from him, but it would be unavoidable on the way in.
Jack would try me. I got the impression he wanted me to fail on base. If I knew why, I would confront him, but what was the damn point? In my experience, men with ego problems didn’t lose them without a serious beating.
They needed to be helped right in life, and I couldn’t afford to beat anyone. In all seriousness, a punch at one of my own troops, no matter how annoying, would only end badly for me.
It was probably why he pushed me this hard. He wanted that reaction out of me.
Jack squished into his seat, then tugged on his seatbelt and patted the dashboard. “Let’s get this show on the road, Lieutenant Commander.”
I started the engine and the truck put-putted toward the chain link fence. A couple of soldiers stepped out and opened for us, with a salute, and I drove through the opening and toward the first check point below. The first of many to deter civilians from coming up to the base.
They tried in the beginning. In fact, they came bearing signs and anger. Thank God, that’d died down after a while.
I glanced in the rearview mirror – a final hope for a glimpse of Chanel, though she was safely indoors and working on her presentation – then steered toward the first outpost.
The soldier saluted there too, checked his clipboard, then let us through.
The truck’s tires hit the dirt road two minutes later and we rattled along.
“So –”
“We don’t need to fill the silence,” I said. “I’d rather listen to tires on dirt.”
“What’s with you, Baker? We’re buddies, remember? We’re pals. We’ve always been that way. I might be a dick sometimes, but you don’t have to be touchy about it. You weren’t before.”
“That’s because I was a dick too.” Hopefully, I changed. And if I hadn’t, it was probably a good thing I stayed away from Chanel.
I’d already developed an attraction to her, and it’d bloomed into something else I didn’t want to consider.
“You’re still a dick,” Jack said, and laughed, a hearty chuckle that didn’t suit his snake-eyed expression. “Listen, man, I know you’re pissed about what I said before. I’m just trying to look out for you. You get that right?”
I gritted my teeth. God, give me strength not to punch this mother fucker. Also, sorry for the bad language.
“I care about you, bud.”
“One helluva way of showing it, pal,” I said. Man, why did I have to put up with this? I had the power to contact someone and have Jack removed, but it seemed petty. He hadn’t done anything outright. He hadn’t hurt me physically or even tried to dent my reputation, as far as I could tell.
Everything on base continued as usual, including the crap aesthetic.
“All right, you don’t want to talk about it, that’s fine.”
“Talk about what?” I asked.
“The way you’re falling for that slut back on base.”
I pumped the brakes and Jack’s chest jerked against the strap. His head ducked forward then back again. “What the fu –”
“If you call Chanel that again, you’re going to wish you were never born,” I said, in cold tones
. “Do you understand? I will make you wish you were never born.”
“Jesus, relax dude. It was a joke. Sheesh.”
“Calling someone a slut is not a joke.”
Jack shrugged. “I didn’t meant it like that. Whatever,” he said. “I just meant you’re falling for someone you’ve slept with like once, right? You need to chill. It has only been once, hasn’t it?”
I took three deep, calming breaths, and tuned him out. Serenity. Peace. And all those other crappy buzzwords that didn’t drown out the growl of anger. He needed a hard kick in the nuts.
I continued down the dirt road and to the second checkpoint, mountain views flashing past our windows. I drove further down to the third checkpoint. Jack chattered on but I ignored him, other than to nod or shake my head when he asked one of his dumbass questions.
We reached the fourth checkpoint and the soldier stepped out of the little guard house and ran over to the truck, waving his clipboard.
“What’s this?” I asked, and slowed down.
Jack, for once, didn’t have an answer.
I parked the truck in front of the boom, then rolled down my window. “Private?”
“Sorry, Lieutenant Commander, I received the call that you were coming through and thought it best to stop you before you go into Meek Springs.” He saluted.
“What’s the problem?”
“Two things, Sir. We’ve got another storm coming in, according to the weather reports I’ve received,” he said. “If you go down and you don’t come back within the next hour, I won’t be able to let you through.”
“Understood,” I said. If we didn’t make it back in time, I’d simply put in a call to Chanel and tell her that she’d get her stuff in the morning. Wouldn’t want her to worry about it. “What’s the other problem?”
“Well, Sir, it appears there’s a protest in Meek Springs.”
“A protest?” Jack asked.
“Yes, Sir,” the private said. “I’ve heard that they’re lined up in the main street to prevent you from passing by them. They’re holding signs.”
Shit. We did supply runs at the same time every week, so they’d planned accordingly.
“We’ll have to go around them,” I said. “Thanks for the Intel, private.”
“Yes, Sir,” he said, and then saluted and ran to open the boom.
“Protests, eh?” Jack snorted. “These townies sure love the U.S. Navy. Think they know what we sacrifice to keep them safe?”
I kept my mouth shut and saluted the private, then drove under the boom and toward the town. I took a right once we hit main road and slowed to a crawl, glancing between the quiet buildings and stores at the road.
“There,” Jack said, and pointed in the direction of the crowd. “They haven’t spotted us yet.”
I brought civilian clothes just in case I needed to barter with someone to help Jack get our supplies – he wasn’t the politest dude around – but these folks, man, they looked mad enough to spit.
We wouldn’t get much out of them, now.
They marched up and down the road, chanting and holding signs.
No, No, Navy Must Go!
No More Secret Tests!
Give Us Back Our Town!
“Eloquent,” Jack said. “You think they came up with those themselves.”
“I can respect what they’re doing. They have a right to voice their opinions, and they’re standing up for what they believe in.” I focused on the street ahead, again, and made for Chanel’s mother’s house instead.
We’d start there, then head back into the center of Meek Springs once the crowds dissipated.
“If you say so,” Jack said.
The truck roared down the road and toward suburbia, away from the yells and marching. It was my experience that protests could turn ugly in a heartbeat. People who mobilized for a cause were already caught up in passion and excitement.
The anonymity of a crowd brought a false sense of safety, and that equaled danger most times.
I turned onto Chanel’s road and my pulse skipped up. Shit, I really wasn’t afraid of her mother, but the thought of making an ass of myself in front of her gave me the fear. I didn’t want to make a bad impression.
I parked in front of the house, then opened my door. Jack followed suit.
I stuck out my hand. “No, you stay here. I’ll handle these errands.”
The Petty Officer First Class rolled his eyes and settled back again. “Suit yourself, man. Good luck.”
I made sure to slap the door shut extra hard, and Whitmore’s responding yell brought me great satisfaction. I reached the front door of the Scott house, checked my uniform was neat and straight, then knocked, three brief raps.
“One moment,” Mrs. Scott called out. Footsteps approached the other side of the door.
I shook out my arms, relaxed my body, and assumed a professional pose.
The latch clacked, and she appeared, an older, taller version of Chanel, but mean. Harsh, somehow, as if she’d been tried and tested and made it through her trials.
“Good afternoon, Mrs. Scott.”
“You’re that soldier.”
“Lieutenant Commander Ryan Baker, ma’am. I’m sorry to bother you today,” I said, then drew the folded list from my pocket. “I’m here on behalf of your daughter, Chanel Scott.”
Her face changed immediately, a flash of concern, and then downright anger. “Oh? And what does the little miss want?”
“She asked that I fetch these items for her. I hoped you could help me ascertain them, ma’am,” I said, and handed over the paper.
She unfolded and smoothed it out, then scanned it. Her expression darkened. “Some of these things are at the store,” she said. “I can’t help you with them.”
“It’s my understanding that you have a key for Scott’s Interiors, ma’am. Miss Scott asked me to retrieve it, then fetch the items that she’s missing from there.”
“Oh? Is that what she asked? You seem to be close with my daughter, Lieutenant Commander,” she said. “Whenever I see her these days, she’s with you.”
I didn’t break a sweat. “I’m in charge of the project she’s working on, ma’am. I need her to have these things so she’s capable of finishing.”
Mrs. Scott stared at me a little while longer, the paper quivering between her fingers. “Fine,” she said. “Wait here. I’ll get the key and what’s on the list.” She backed off, then slammed the door shut in my face.
It was rude, but I thanked the stars that she wasn’t with the protestors in the center of town. Then again, that probably wasn’t her scene. I checked my watch and frowned. Given the delays in town, we likely wouldn’t make it back to the base in time to avoid the storm.
I’d have to call Chanel and let her know I’d have her stuff back by tomorrow. I drew my cell from my pocket and sighed. My palms had grown clammy at the thought of it. Of hearing her voice and knowing she was up there without me, waiting.
Chapter 17
Chanel
I swiveled in my office chair and frowned at the failing light, the gathering clouds. Ryan should’ve been back at the base by now. God, and he’d gone with that annoying Whitmore too. I couldn’t imagine what a long ride with that guy had to be like, and I didn’t want to.
I brought my phone out of my desk drawer, unlocked the screen and checked the time. “It’s almost 6 pm,” I muttered.
The cell trilled to life in my hand and I squeaked and tossed it upward. “Shit!” I caught it one-handed, then squinted at the name on the screen.
Paula.
I swiped my thumb across the screen. “Hello?”
“Hey! I’m calling before the damn storm hits. I wanted to tell you what’s happening before you hear it from someone else,” she said.
“What are you talking about? What storm?”
“Huge one. Another of those kick ass bar-time blizzards,” Paula said. “Except I don’t have my party buddy with me to kick it at the local spot.”
“Sorry,” I said, and my intestines twisted into a knot. The storm meant Ryan would either get trapped in it or have to stay the night. But if he decided to stay, why didn’t he call? Ridiculous. He wouldn’t call. He didn’t have a reason to call me. I wasn’t his girlfriend.
“Knock, knock, are you there?”
“Sorry, I zoned out for a second. You were saying?”
“I’m not calling to tell you about the damn storm,” she said. “I’m calling because I think we might’ve made a wee bit of a problem.”
“Since when are you Scottish?” I asked.
“It’s my natural defense mechanism. When I’m freaked I return to my roots,” she said, in a thick, fake Scottish accent. “In all seriousness, though. I might have followed your advice about telling Timothy to back off a little too well.”
“Oh my God, what did you do?”
“So, remember how you told me to like, talk to Timothy and tell him to back off because you’re not interested?”
“Yeah?” This couldn’t have anything to do with Ryan, so I allowed myself a little relief from the anxiety, and leaned back in my chair.
Those ominous storm clouds roiled, a flash of lightning arched across the sky, but the thunder didn’t rumble just yet. The weather would be worse up in the mountains, but the base had generators in case of this type of thing.
“Well, I kind of went a bit overboard. I confronted Timothy and asked him what his deal was. He told me the same shit, that he likes you and he wants to make you his girlfriend and all that crap.”
“No offense, but this is really juvenile. What are we, back in high school?”
“It gets worse,” she said, and her voice deepened. “I – uh, might have told him that you have someone to preoccupy you on the base. I didn’t mention names, but he probably figured it was the guy he sees you with all the time. The one that picked you up at your house.”
I winced. “Are you kidding? Please, tell me you’re kidding. If you are, this is the worst joke ever.”
“I’m not kidding.”
Protecting Her Heart Page 52
