by Lori Leger
“It’s good you gave his son the name, then. I’m sure it would have meant the world to him.” He adjusted the towel around Meagan’s neck.
“Can you tell me a little of what happened over there, Tex? I never found out what it was like for Chris, but I’d like to know what it was like for Mitch.”
“Like I said, he took care of his men. It’s commonly known that Jarheads don’t have much use for officers, but they’ll go to hell and back for a good Sergeant. Mitch was one of the best I’ve ever known, and the men respected him.” He regaled her with tales of the years they’d worked together…in Afghanistan, everything from daily life and pranks they’d pulled on each other to drunken leave in Hawaii. He left out details about the fighting, telling her when she asked, that some things didn’t need to be relived or repeated.
After an hour, he took the cloth from her neck, ran it under more cold water and replaced it. “You’ll develop some ugly bruising, hon. Mitchell’s gonna wish he could kick his own ass ten ways from Sunday for that. He might even ask me to do it for him.”
“Which, of course you won’t do.” She gave him a look of warning before closing her eyes to breathe in the scent of his freshly laundered shirt and spicy masculine cologne.
His chest vibrated with a deep rumble of laughter. “Not if he asked me, but I might consider it if you did.”
His attention grabbing tone had her eyeing him curiously, as he sent her a sexy as hell grin. “I wouldn’t ask, and you damn well know it.”
“I know that. I also know my old buddy has a thing for you, and I wouldn’t dream of making a move on you for that reason.”
She shrugged. “It wouldn’t matter if you did. You’re not my type. Now, my roommate, Niki…she likes her cowboys.”
“Niki, huh? So, when are you going to introduce me to this cowboy lovin’ roommate of yours?”
“We…ellll,” she said, drawing out the single syllable as she approached Mitchell’s fridge. “I’m not sure if I want to, considering how I found your number.” She pulled the card from the fridge and spun on her heels to show it to him. At least Tex had the good grace to cringe as he pointed to the tacky card.
“I hope you realize that I would never have ordered those myself. Haley had ‘em made as a joke and gave them to me for my coming home party. Ask her next time you see her.”
Meagan jabbed the card in his face. “Don’t you worry…I’ll do that…before I introduce you to my roommate, who is also my soul-sister, as well as best friend in the world.” She placed the card back in its spot and tiptoed into Mitchell’s room to check on him. She re-entered the living room a few minutes later, feeling a tremendous relief. “He’s sweating out his fever, Tex. Hopefully this will be the end of it. Nik says the symptoms don’t last long.”
“That’s good to know.”
“Looks like I wasted your ti—”
“—Don’t even think that! Nobody in their right mind would have expected you to handle him after what you’d just gone through,” he said, pointing to her neck. Tex waited until she’d reluctantly agreed before he leaned back in the recliner and stretched out his long legs. “Now…we’ve established the fact that Mitch has a thing for you. What I’m most curious about is whether or not you, Meagan, have got a thing for him.”
Her mouth twisted in a grin. “Do you honestly think I’d be here—tonight—if I didn’t?”
He aimed his long forefinger at her face. “Good answer, Pee Wee.”
“Pee Wee! I’m 5’4”.”
“I know; you’re a tiny little thing.”
She snorted. “It’s not like I’m a midget. I can’t help that you’re freakishly tall.”
“Hey, just ‘cause you’re willing to settle for ordinary, doesn’t mean other women don’t appreciate—” he paused to flex his arms and kiss both bulging biceps, “—real men like me, who come in Double XL.”
She shook her head, and burst into laughter. “My Granny had a name for people like you. She called ‘em ‘Shine-ola’.”
He cocked his head. “There’s an old shoe polish called Shinola. I still have a container of it in a box of stuff from my great grandpa. That’s not so bad.”
She choked back her laughter long enough to answer him. “It came from her saying… ‘He’s so full of himself, it’s hard to tell the difference between the shit caked on the bottom of the boot and the shine-ola on the top’. So of course, to those of us acquainted with the saying, when she called someone ‘Shine-ola’, it was just a polite way of calling them—”
“—Shit!” he finished for her. “I get it. Gee, thanks, Granny.”
Meagan snorted with laughter. “On behalf of my beloved Granny, if the shit-caked, double XL boot fits—wear it!”
A call from Mitchell’s bedroom cut through Tex’s booming laughter. Meagan jumped up and ran to the room, surprised to find Mitch seated on the side of the bed, his feet flat on the floor.
“Hey! It looks like someone’s feeling better,” she said, pleased at his quick recovery.
“Not really, but it’s hard to sleep with someone braying like a jack-ass out there.”
Tex leaned up against the doorjamb, his muscular arms crossed against his massive chest, and casually bent one leg to cross a booted foot over the other. “Yeah, he’s feeling better. Feeling a touch of the green-eyed monster, are ya, Master Sergeant?”
****
Mitch fairly growled at his old pal. “Stand down, Marine. And what the fuc—flip—” he added with a quick glance toward Meagan, “—are you doing here, anyway?”
“Well, once this little lady realized she couldn’t handle you alone, she called on the only other person in the world who’d know how to keep your ass under control.”
“Bull shit.” Mitch threw a grunt in for good measure then turned an irritated glare in Meagan’s direction. “It couldn’t have been that difficult.”
Her eyes widened perceptibly as she took a deep breath, held it, and spun on her heels to leave the room without a word, or a backward glance.
A low chuckle from Tex had Mitch glaring up at the annoying mountain of a man. “What the fuck are you laughing at, you east Texas piece of trash?”
“Cajun Heat,” he drawled, “You don’t even know how bad you fucked up…but you’re damned well about to find out.”
He left for several seconds, and came back in, dragging a reluctant Meagan with him. He pushed her forward, settling her in front of Mitch. “Apologize to her…now.”
The sight of Tex’s big hands resting so familiarly on Meagan’s shoulders infuriated him. He’d be ready to kick his ass if he didn’t feel like he’d been run over by a Humvee and starved for a week. “Okay, I apologize, but what the hell for?”
Tex puffed up like a bullfrog. “Show him, Meg,” he demanded.
“Show me what?” Mitch was just a little tired of this asshole’s attitude, which is why he didn’t want him here. No Marine wanted another human being to perceive him as weak. He tried hard to convince himself that was the only reason he was pissed.
“Show him,” Tex insisted, as Meagan rolled her eyes and reached for her collar, pulling it back to reveal the bruising around her neck.
“What the…” Mitch reached up to inspect, jerked his hand back when she flinched, pulling away from him. She shuttered her gaze, but not until he saw the flicker of fear in her eyes. “Aw…fuck no! I couldn’t have done that! Did I?”
The sight of her biting her lower lip was all the answer he needed. He sat back, all the air leaving his lungs like a deflated balloon. “Shit…shit…what happened?” He had to know.
“You - you didn’t know what you were doing, Mit—”
He lifted one hand, stopping her. “—Don’t defend me. Just tell me what happened.” He listened, heart sick and humbled, as she told him how close he’d come to choking the life out of her.
Once she’d finished speaking, the three of them remained where they were, speechless; the steady drip…drip…plop…of the faucet in his
bathroom, the only sound in the otherwise silent room.
He took a deep breath, released it, and forced himself to look up at her, still standing with arms crossed as though trying to protect herself from—God forgive him—him.
“There are no words to express how sorry I am.” He hung his head. “I can’t—can’t even imagine why you stayed—why you’re still here.”
“I told you, it’s highly contagious,” she mumbled. “Dangerous for kids and I don’t want to bring it home to Buck.” She lifted one shoulder. “I really don’t have any other place to go.”
He nodded, full understanding hitting him squarely in the face. “You’ll be safe here, Megs, you know that, right?”
“Um, I guess so,” she said, sending a quick glance at Tex.
That one brief glance felt like a knife wound to Mitchell’s gut. Gathering all his strength, he forced himself to stand and face her. He moved slowly, reaching out for her, held his arms there and waited for her to move on her own. She did, finally, stepping into his embrace. He kissed the top of her head and closed his eyes, holding her close. “I’m so sorry, Megs. I promise you will never have to be afraid of me again.” He smiled at her muffled response.
“I’m gonna hold you to that, you dumb Jarhead.”
Tex cleared his throat. “And I’m gonna make sure she does. Now, if you two think everything’s okay here, I’ve got a few things I need to take care of back home.”
Meagan pulled away suddenly. “You can’t leave!” she objected. “You’ll bring it home to your family.”
“I live alone and I’ll tell everyone to keep away.” He backed away from the two of them.
“You shouldn’t be alone, Tex!”
Mitch placed a comforting hand on her arm. “He’ll be okay.” He followed his Marine brother to the door. “Do me a favor, buddy. Make sure you have a bucket to hurl in, aspirin for the headache and water…plenty of water…because for a brief period, you’re gonna feel like you’re burning up from the inside out.”
Tex flexed his guns again and shot them each a big grin. “This big old Texas boy’s got it under control, don’t you worry.” With a flash of Wrangler jeans and Justin boots, he was out the door.
The engine of Tex’s Ford F-350 truck came to life, cutting through the quiet stillness of the early October morning. He revved it up and drove away, the sound fading slowly until all was quiet again.
Meagan turned to him, her face a mask of worry. “I sure hope he listens and doesn’t bring this stuff to his family. You think he’ll be okay?”
Mitch nodded. “Tex will fare all right, and I’m pretty sure he’ll go right home. He’s not that stupid.” He turned away from her, still muttering under his breath. “At least I don’t think so, anyway.”
“How are you feeling?” she asked, her voice tinged with a hint of shyness.
He flexed his shoulders, testing his muscles a little, and winced. “Everything hurts except for my head, but I’m not burning up or barfing into a bucket. All things considered, I guess I’m doing pretty damn well.” He sent her a look of concern. “More importantly, how are you doing?”
“My, uh, my head is starting to hurt some.”
“Seriously?”
She rubbed at her forehead and nodded. “Yeah. Niki was right. This thing is contagious as all hell.”
“You realize, of course, we probably both got it from the club. I mean, I do a lot of hand shaking, and you handle people’s drinks and money.”
“I know,” she said, nodding. “And if it’s an air-borne virus, we didn’t have an icicle’s chance in Hades of escaping this thing.” She rubbed at her head again and at the back of her neck. “I’m not too worried about the nausea because I never throw up.”
“Never?”
She shook her head. “Not since I was a little girl. Not even morning sickness.”
He searched her face for clues, wondering if she was serious. “Well, for your sake, I hope like hell your luck holds up this time around, too.” He cringed at the thought of his all too recent experience with that very thing.
****
“Oh…oh…that hurts so freaking bad!” Meagan fell back on the pillow, her hand plastered to her forehead as the pain sliced through her temporal lobe. “This is so humiliating,” she said, as Mitch sat on the side of the bed, wiping her face with a cool, wet washcloth. She would have laughed at the face he made, if she wasn’t so afraid it would make her heave…yet again.
“Never say never, Meg’s.”
“I won’t,” she groaned. “Oh man, I hope Buck doesn’t get this.”
“What about Niki, working as a receptionist in the doctor’s office?”
“She works behind a glass window, but wears gloves. They also spray this stuff in the air to keep the workers from getting sick. It seems to work for her.”
“Good to know.” He reached over to feel her forehead. “No fever yet. Think you could sleep now?”
She grasped his hand and pulled it close. “Could you stay with me? I hate to be alone when I’m feeling bad.”
He cast a doubtful glance in her direction. “You sure you don’t mind?” The look she gave him made him want to shield her from any pain the world had to offer. “God, you look pitiful, Megs.”
He took the towel from her neck, dunked it in the bowl of fresh water and arranged it so it looped the most bruised areas, hating himself even more, for what he’d done in his fevered condition. “Sonofabitch…” he whispered to himself.
“Wasn’t your fault,” she said, her eyes cracking open just a slit. She laid her hand on the side of the bed. “Come here.”
“Hang on…” Mitch emptied her bucket and rinsed it before placing it on the floor beside her. He crawled in bed, molding himself to her back as she lay on her side facing the edge of the bed. “Is this okay?” He heard a barely perceptible grunt of approval before she settled into a deep sleep. Still exhausted from his own bout of illness, he followed her lead.
****
A soft groan broke through his consciousness, alerting him. He lay there, eyes closed, waiting for her to speak. “Megs? Did you say something?” No sound came from her, no movement other than a violent shivering, causing the entire bed to shake. He moved his hand resting on her hip, slid it under her shirt, and muttered a long, low string of curses at the heat radiating off her skin. He jumped out of bed and piled the blankets on her before getting fresh cloths dipped in water to cool her head and face.
She rolled over on her back, flailing her head from side to side, as though trying to escape the cool cloth.
“Hang on Meagan. Jesus, you’re burning up!” He tried again to pass the cool cloth over her face, her eyes, her heated cheeks, with some measure of success. He reached for the cloth around her neck, no longer cool, but warm from her heated body temperature. He soaked it and rung it out loosely. As soon as he placed it around her neck, her eyes flew open. She cried out then gasped for breath, slapping and scratching at him, her long nails connecting with his face, her right fist connecting with his eye.
“Ah…shit! Meagan! Shhhh…it’s okay, Megs. I’m not going to hurt you, babe. It’s all right…that’s right…calm down, Megs.”
Finally she settled, calmed into letting him care for her. He bathed her face, all the while beginning to feel sickened by a new realization. In his fevered state, he’d been back in Afghanistan, fighting off members of Al Qaeda, the terrorists, the enemy. But clearly, she’d been fighting him. He knew by the way she’d gasped and struggled for breath. In place of the cool, wet cloth around her neck, she’d only felt his hands wrapping tightly around her, cutting off her supply of air.
A fresh batch of shame washed over him. Shame and horror at having done something like that to a woman he cared so deeply for, along with something else—a knowledge that it could happen again. Was it likely to happen again? The odds were, no. Was it possible it could happen again? Hell, anything was possible.
He bathed her face, praying for the fever to ab
ate. Hoping she’d feel well enough to go home soon. The sooner he got her out of here, the better off she and Buck would be.
CHAPTER 20
Costumes and Camouflage
Mitch waited three days before accepting a dinner invitation to Sarah and Tanner’s place, hoping to spare the family from catching whatever it was he had. Once his brother-in-law, the doctor, had assured him they’d be fine, he showed up with a nice bottle of wine for Sarah, a six-pack of Dos Equis for Tanner, and cute little ladybug shaped lollipops for his nieces.
Sarah hugged her brother and grabbed the lollipops from him before her twin girls could see them. “Oops! Not until after their supper, Uncle Mitch, your nieces have a fondness for sweets. Those girls will pass up a decent meal over sugar any day of the week.”
Mitch placed the wine on the cabinet and the beer in the fridge then looked around the otherwise empty living area. “Where are the munchkins? Usually they’re all over me by now.”
“Tanner couldn’t wait to see them in their Halloween costumes.” They turned at the sound of a door opening and screeches of laughter from the two little girls.
Mitch couldn’t help but laugh at the sight of Tanner Collins toting not one, but two adorable little insects in each arm. One twin…Mitch hadn’t mastered the skill of telling them apart yet…was dressed as a bumble bee, all yellow and black striped with fuzzy antennae sticking up from her furry little bee head hood. The second twin was just as cute as a red ladybug, complete with black spots, multiple legs, also sporting a pair of antennae protruding from her equally furry hood.
“Oh man,” Mitchell gushed. “Have you ever seen anything as cute as that?”
“Hmmm…Nope!” Tanner admitted, putting the twins down to shake Mitch’s hand. “Though I’m thinking your sister will run a close second in the costume she just brought home.”
“You’re dressing up too?” Mitch asked, squatting to scoop up his nieces and cover their giggling, adorable faces with kisses.
