by Lizzy Ford
This isn’t going to work. I watch her deposit oil into each corner then under the window, unable to find a polite way to tell her that her priorities suck.
When she’s done, she faces me. The tension between us isn’t normal. She doesn’t look at me; she glares. There’s always fire burning in the depths of her gaze, and she’s tense. There’s a tiny part of me that wants to say something to help her.
The rest … well, I’m not sure what to do. I can’t remember anything ever feeling so awkward. Unaccustomed to dealing with civilians, I have a feeling my preferred way of handling her won’t go over well.
“This is gonna be a long week,” she voices what I’m thinking. “It’s not too late to go back to Iraq. You won’t be stuck with me.”
“I’m not afraid of you, Katya,” I assure her. “Even if your brother and father are.”
“You’re right. Staying here might keep your men from getting killed.”
“Might teach you a thing or two about what it means to work with someone else instead of running people like Petr over.”
“I don’t run him over. I’m taking care of him, something you should’ve done in the first place!” The fire is in her gaze. She strides up to me, pausing in my space.
The beauty glaring up at me might be a turn on, if her tongue wasn’t so fucking lethal.
“Maybe instead of telling him what he can’t do, you can have him show you what he can do,” I suggest.
“Maybe you should’ve been there for four months watching him heal instead of screwing him up and dropping him in my lap.” That glint is in her eyes, the one that says she’s about to slap me again.
“You got a freebie at Mikael’s funeral,” I warn her. “Slap me again, and things will go differently this time.”
“What? You’ll hit me back?”
“No, ma’am, I won’t ever raise a hand to you. But you won’t like what does happen,” I assure her. “There will be consequences.”
The taut silence that follows makes me think there’s more than frustration between us, something I’ll keep attributing to not getting laid in too long. She’s small enough for me to lift with one arm, her flushed features and the challenge in her gaze warming me on the inside.
Someone like this would be wild in the sack.
“If we’re done here, leave please, so I can change,” I tell her with forced politeness.
Another pause, and then she stalks out, slamming the door behind her.
I release my breath, suddenly identifying what I feel. It’s the sense I get before I walk into battle, the combination of roaring adrenaline, exhilaration and extreme focus.
Shaking tension from my shoulders, I know she’s angry but can’t quite write off everything she said.
Maybe you should’ve been there for four months watching him heal instead of screwing him up and dropping him in my lap.
There’s some truth in that, a sense of guilt I experience whenever I think of Petr. I promised to be there when he woke but wasn’t. I don’t know exactly what goes into amputation and giving someone a new leg, but I can’t imagine the experience is simple or remotely pleasant.
If there’s one thing I know about Katya, it’s that she didn’t leave his side the entire time. Which means, I brought the war home to her, too. One dead, one crippled for life, and one scarred emotionally.
I fucked up her family, her world. She’ll never forgive me.
That makes two of us.
I change quickly. The others are wearing jeans. After so long in uniform, I’ve lost some fashion sense, so I pull on dark jeans and don one of the polos, tucking it in. It irks me not to wear a belt; I end up using my uniform belt. I’m pulling on stiff hiking boots when someone knocks.
“Captain Mathis?” It’s Petr’s voice.
I cross to the door and open it. He’s dressed similarly, wearing an assigned polo.
“Can I talk to you for a minute?”
Assuming Katya said something to him, I step aside and sit on my bunk, waiting.
“Just, uh … a request, sir,” he starts with a smile. “Please don’t trade Katya. I know she’ll be a pain in the ass. She’s never camped a day in her life. She’s a good girl, though, and I’d feel safer knowing she’s with you than anyone else.”
Assuming he’s thinking of the creep Harris, I nod. I owe him this, if nothing else.
“She’ll be a challenge.”
“I never back down from a challenge.” As much as I’d like to this time.
“I think you’re the only one here with the temperament to handle her, and …” Petr pauses. “I really want the man who saved my life and the woman who sat beside me for four months while I healed to be friends. Or maybe, at least not hate each other.”
Understanding softens some of my anger. “You asked for us to be partners?”
“I might’ve recommended it to Zach when he was creating the teams.” Petr gives a roguish grin.
“It’s my pleasure,” I reply with diplomacy I’ve learned as an officer.
He laughs. “No, it’s really not, sir. But I appreciate it.”
I can’t turn down a request like this, especially from him. It’s just a week and just an angry woman. It can’t be that bad. After all, she’s sexy as hell, even with the attitude.
“Your leg holding up okay?” I ask, glancing down at it.
“Awesome.” He slaps it. “Can’t wait to show the kids. I loved that shit when I was little.”
Smiling, I motion to the door.
We exit the dorm into the humid, warm afternoon. I automatically take accountability whenever I walk into a room or situation involving my men. The others are there, and I’m not surprised to see Riley flirting with the brunette, Brianna. Katya is the only one missing, and I glance around.
“Horse stables, sir,” Petr says before I can ask. “If you ever can’t find her, she’s there.”
“I’ll go get my partner,” I say. Not about to show him how reluctant I am to be dealing with his sister, I strike off in the direction of the stables and follow the stone trail.
The trees rustle from a warm breeze while blue sky peeks through the canopy above. I breathe in the scent of forest deeply. I can’t get the peppermint out of my nose, which makes me think there’s a drop of it somewhere, maybe on my shoes. Being overseas, I’ve missed four seasons and vegetation such as this. The setting is serene, cheerful, and a little surreal.
Katya is at the corral near the stables, her arms draped over the railing as she watches the horses in the paddock. Her position has caused her shirt to hitch up, and my gaze lingers on the perky ass and long thighs clad in her snug leggings.
Not now. Not her. I remind myself. I go to the railing a few feet from her, eyes following the movement of the two horses. A glance at her makes my jaw clench. Her eyes are rimmed with red.
Fuck. “I did that, didn’t I?” I ask quietly.
Chapter Six: Katya
The asshole’s question makes me look when I swore I would ignore him the rest of the week. His tone is soft for once. He’s dressed in jeans fitted enough to reveal the long, lean lengths of his thighs and the narrow width of his swimmer’s hips. The polo is snug across his broad shoulders and tight around his biceps. Even without his uniform, he’s got the detached, commanding air that tells people he’s something different.
“No,” I lie.
Captain Mathis holds my gaze.
“I went too far,” he continues in the same tone. “I apologize.”
I’m not expecting an apology from the Iceman or the way my face feels warm under his direct look.
“I’ll be at the reception center.” He pushes away from the railing and walks away.
I turn to watch him, uncertain what to think.
He pauses, saying over his shoulder, “I’m a stickler for details. Your belt is on wrong. If you want help, let me know.”
I look down at the camp-issued belt, irritated, and then back up at him. Confident and strong, he’s got a q
uick gait and a nice ass. The man I think he is never would’ve apologized. Nor would I want him to. I want to hate him, because I don’t know how else to deal with Mikael being gone.
After a moment, I receive a text from Zach saying he’s waiting in the parking lot with my stuff. I go there instead of the reception center. He helps me carry everything to the lodge where I’ll be staying with the jackass. I set up my side of the room, wash my face in the bathroom and leave.
The others are laughing and talking when I enter the reception center. Brianna is the center of attention from all the guys, even Harris. I want to throw something but sit down in my seat to look at the paperwork they’ve been going over when I was out.
First aid procedures. Ugh. Schedule with two days marked as being offsite camping. Double ugh. I’m not the kind of person who wants anything to do with living in a tent. I don’t know any of this stuff, and everyone else seems a lot more comfortable with it.
“Ten minute break, then we’ll get started again,” calls Brianna. She’s definitely relishing being in charge.
I tell myself not to give her an ounce of thought, but it’s kind of hard. It doesn’t help that I have an unpleasant history with her. I’m feeling raw again, a combination of being somewhere I’ve never been without Mikael and feeling out of place with the others here.
God, I miss him so much.
“Hey, Kat.”
Dammit, Brianna. Leave me alone. I plaster on a fake smile and rise to talk to her.
“You’ve lost weight.”
“Been taking care of my brother. Hospital food leaves much to be desired.”
“Hmm.” A shadow crosses through her features. “At least you’re not up to your old antics anymore.”
“Some things are more important than my personal life,” I reply innocently.
That gets the response I want. Unable to provoke Captain Mathis, I know I haven’t lost my touch by the flare of red that goes up Brianna’s pretty face.
“We missed you at the hospital,” I add, digging in deeper.
“It wasn’t my place to be there,” she snaps. “I’m sorry what happened to your brothers, but –”
“You came here,” I point out. “You’ve always preferred the easy road, I guess.”
“This coming from a trust fund baby who spends every night at the club and has done nothing with her life!”
“Wait a minute.” I pretend to consider. “Weren’t you sleeping with both my brothers when you agreed to marry Petr?”
“Ohhhhkay, ladies.” It’s Riley. He’s looking between us. “Let’s just step away and cool off.” He plants a large hand on each of our shoulders and pushes us away from one another, moving his muscular frame between us. “Hey, Iceman, come get your partner before she tears mine apart.”
At least he knows who’d win. I take some satisfaction out of the acknowledgment and whirl.
Captain Mathis is across the room, hands on hips, watching. Impossible to read as usual, though one eyebrow is up in either accusation or inquisition. He nods his head to the side in a silent command for me to join him.
I have no idea where this guy gets off thinking he can boss me around. It might work with his men, but not with me.
I go outside instead, feeling claustrophobic.
Maybe being here is a mistake. I want to think it’s for Petr and Mikael – and it is – but there’s another reason I feel compelled to stay. I think there’s a piece of me that needs this, too, though I’m not sure why, when this is totally not my scene.
Tossing my head back, I gaze at the late afternoon sky, so blue and beautiful. The forest calms me, and I shake out my shoulders.
“Is there anyone here you don’t have a problem with?” Captain Mathis asks from behind me.
“We’ll find out, won’t we?”
He’s quiet. I have a feeling he’s not entirely certain what to say in response.
After a minute, he circles and stops in front of me, reaching for my belt. Not expecting the sudden proximity, I freeze where I’d normally move or push him out of my space. He smells lightly of coconuts once more, and I find myself staring at the width of his chest and the shapely arms and shoulders. His brown eyes are the shade of dark chocolate, his skin rendered golden by the sun and his hair kept in a neat high-and-tight. His heated strength is different than that of my brother’s.
I notice his body, how close he is to me, the way his roped forearm muscles shift with the movement of the long fingers unsnapping my belt. I’ve never paid any attention to my brothers like this.
“Grommets on the outside,” he instructs me. He steps closer to pull the belt out and twist it before settling it again at my waist. Snapping it into place, he drops his hands but remains a little too close for my comfort.
“Thanks,” I murmur.
In a manner of seconds, I’ve forgotten why I hate him and Brianna. It’s uncanny, as if my senses overtake conscious thought when he’s around.
“Your brother’s old enough to fight his own battles.”
Anger stirs, and I look up at him. “I know that!”
Captain Mathis is calm, always so calm. I wonder what it feels like not to experience emotions the way I do.
“So you’re just picking fights today?” he asks.
“None of your damn business!”
“For this week, it is,” he says firmly. “We’re a team. If you’re going to be picking fights all week, I’d like to know.”
“Why? So you can trade me?” I challenge, crossing my arms. Being so close to him is a little too intense right now. I step back self-consciously.
“So I can make sure I have your back, if it elevates,” he responds. “It’s what teams do. Take care of their own.”
“Except for Mikael.” I can’t help it. I’m feeling furious with the handsome man before me once more.
Captain Mathis doesn’t even blink. If anything, he seems to grow colder. “Whatever you think you know about me, I will have your back, because that’s the way this works.”
It’s not what I’m expecting to hear. He has a way of either infuriating me or deflating my anger. The weird tension stretches between us, the one that manages to replace thought with a physical awareness of his body.
We’re evaluating each other.
“Hey, guys! We’re starting again!” Harris calls from the porch.
I don’t like the idea of backing down – ever – and Harris’s shout is well timed.
Spinning, I retreat towards the reception center. Harris smiles at me, but I ignore him, returning to my assigned seat. Captain Mathis sits beside me a moment later, and I wait to see what new torture the counselors are about to be put through.
What the hell am I doing here? Really?
“This is a fun one!” Brianna is grinning. “Basically, an interview. You interview your partners then do a little verbal report to the group about what you’ve learned about your partner! Cool childhood memories, hobbies, favorite songs, anything.”
Really? Are we in junior high? Or maybe hell?
“Ready, go!”
Captain Mathis and I face each other. I sense more than see he’s uncomfortable with me. I suspect Mikael will always be between us. We stare at one another, neither speaking, until the silence gets so awkward, I shift in my seat. I can’t read him, don’t know how to take anything he says or how he looks at me. He’s so calm, it’s almost unnerving.
“This is what we call an interrogation in my line of work,” he breaks the silence at last. “I’m not a fan.”
I laugh at his dry humor, suspecting this is as bad for him as it is for me.
“Let’s do the opposite,” I suggest.
A curious smile tugs up one corner of his mouth. “Like what?”
“Instead of telling each other about ourselves” I roll my eyes “let’s make up stories about each other. It’ll be a lot more fun.”
He shifts.
I lean forward. I’ve caught him off guard. Finally.
“Ah
. So you’re a total gingerbread man,” I assess. “Cookie cutter, same as everyone else, no imagination or ability to think for yourself.”
A spark of something lights in his gaze. Captain Mathis leans forward as well, elbows on knees. “You don’t get to where I am by not thinking for yourself.”
“Prove it,” I challenge. “Tell me a story about me. Make it good.” I’m almost curious about what he’ll say but convinced he’ll prove me right about being unable to think outside the box of discipline and nicely folded corners of his bedding.
Captain Mathis studies me for a moment, long enough for familiar heat to stir inside me, before he begins.
“Katya Khavalov is the kind of person who thinks throwing lemons at enemies is better than making lemonade. Fiercely independent, she learned at a young age how to use mind control on those around her. It worked on everyone but her dog, Sawyer, who was immune to the mind control and would chew on her shoes every night.”
By the end, I’m laughing again. Captain Mathis has a wry, subtle sense of humor that catches me off guard and a deadpan delivery that makes me wonder if I’m supposed to laugh or not.
“Not what you thought?” he asks with another of the faint, half smiles.
“Okay, my turn.” Composing myself, I spend a few seconds righting my story then share it. “Sawyer Mathis was born as a statue in a garden near a witch’s cabin. One day, the witch made him human, and sent him out to win her battles with the garden gnomes that were invading her lands. Handsome, dashing and indestructible, Sawyer won every battle, until he came across the dragon Katya. She swallowed him whole one evening but he turned back into stone in her gut and was stuck there forever.”
He’s smiling more widely this time. Dimples form in his cheeks that turn his features from handsome to almost charming.
“Isn’t this more fun?” I ask.
“I would’ve preferred to be a garden gnome to an orphan.”
“Oh. You’re an orphan? No family at all?”
“Not since I was two.”
“That’s sad,” I murmur, studying him. “Is that why you’re in the Marines?”
He raises an eyebrow. “I’m in the Marines because the man who set me straight was a Marine. He taught me a few things about life, and I decided I wanted to be like him.”
