Officer Breaks the Rules (Semper Fidelis. Always Faithful.)

by Murray, Jeanette

Tim grimaced. “How the hell you get any work done around here when your desk looks like that, I’ll never know.”

  “Easy there, Mr. Clean. Your stick is showing.”

  Tim just rolled his eyes as Jeremy laughed, the last of the tension seeping out of his shoulders and gut.

  Tim was known for being anal, even earning the nickname Lieutenant Stick in TBS—for having a stick up his ass about regulations and rules. He’d relaxed considerably since his marriage to Skye, but he still had his moments of compulsive organization and super-cleanliness. But his wife usually eased those rough moments, and he’d become even more easygoing in the last few months.

  “Are you all ready for your week out in the field?”

  Tim grunted. “It’s action, at least. A little notice would have been nice, though. I feel like we’re always playing catch-up around here.”

  “Nature of the beast.”

  “Hurry up and wait,” they both intoned at the same time, then chuckled together.

  “I’m ready,” Tim went on. “I just hate not having a warning. Forty-eight hours isn’t much.”

  “That’s not exactly uncommon. We rarely have that much notice before heading out to the field. Plus, you’re only gone for eight days,” Jeremy pointed out.

  “Yeah, but I like to let Skye know as soon as possible if I’m gonna be gone.”

  He resisted the urge to roll his eyes. A year ago, heading out to the field at the last minute wouldn’t have given Tim a second thought. As organized as he was by nature, he could have been set and ready to roll in an hour. Shit changed when you added a wife to the mix.

  “Can I ask you a favor for while I’m gone?”

  Jeremy sat up straighter but smiled. “Only if it’s not paperwork,” he joked.

  Tim smiled and shook his head. “Nah. It’s easier than paperwork. I promised to help Veronica set up a new bedroom set for her over the weekend, but now I’ll be gone. I don’t think she wants to wait a second longer, but she’s too polite to say so.”

  New furniture? Piece of cake. “Sure. No problem. Do you need help dismantling what you’ve got set up now?”

  Tim shook his head. “No, the furniture in the guest bedroom stays there. We would have let her have it, but she’s got new stuff coming in. Skye’s parents bought her a new bedroom set… something about making up for years without her own. No clue what that means, but whatever. She’s moving into Madison’s guest room. They’ll be roommates now.”

  “Madison’s place. Roommates. Really?” Jeremy’s throat did that uncomfortable closing-in thing again. Damn, could he just not catch a break? He made mental plans to avoid her whenever possible for the near future, and suddenly he’s right back at square one.

  “Yeah. I think Madison works all weekend, but Veronica has keys now. So if I give her your number, can she text you to come over when she’s ready?”

  “Absolutely.” He’d scoot in, assemble in record time, and scoot back out again. Like a thief in the night… only during the day. And without stealing anything.

  “Great.” Tim slapped his palms on his knees, then pushed to stand up. “I’ll let them know you’re able to help. Thanks.” And before he left, he leaned back and said, “And keep an eye out for my girls while I’m gone. All three of them. Yeah?”

  Jeremy scoffed. “Corny, dude.”

  Tim smiled lazily. “Probably. But I’m not used to leaving someone behind. Just in case, you know. Makes me feel better knowing they have someone to call if something comes up.”

  “Sure. No problem.” Yeah, he’d keep an eye out… for ways to not act like an idiot. Prime example, the other night.

  Impressive, really, when a guy managed to insult a woman by claiming she was seducing him, when all she was doing was taking off a sweatshirt.

  But she wants me.

  He knew it as sure as he knew the Marine Corps Hymn. And he had no clue what to do with the information, other than ignore it.

  Because he’d been doing such a fantastic job of that so far.

  But this time he had no more chances to screw up. He and Madison were flammable together. Lighter fluid and a spark. He couldn’t afford to go after her, and she wouldn’t give up coming after him.

  Just like in battle, he’d play it by ear. Planning only took you so far. After that, instincts kicked in. He’d prepare, steel himself against the effect she had on him, and hope for a good show of resolve.

  ***

  The only thing worse than being alone with your own thoughts was being alone with your own thoughts for days at a time.

  And therein lay the problem with Madison’s three days on, two days off shift schedule at the moment. If she didn’t make the effort, she’d spend way too much time with herself. God knew that was a recipe for disaster.

  She stared at the clock, calculated how long it would take her to grab a shower and get dressed, and reached for her cell phone on the nightstand.

  “Hey, Veronica. It’s Madison.”

  “Hello,” Veronica’s smooth, cultured voice answered. “How are you?”

  Madison smiled. Veronica always sounded so proper at first, like she’d been raised by nuns in a convent. Luckily she loosened up as conversations went on. “I’m free for the day and I don’t want to spend it alone. Wanna grab some lunch?”

  “Yes!” Veronica squealed, then coughed. “I’m sorry. Yeah. That would be wonderful.”

  “Cool. I’ll pick you up in forty-five minutes, okay?”

  Veronica agreed and they hung up. Madison trudged out of bed—the payment for making the phone call—and snatched a towel from the cupboard before turning the water on ultra hot.

  An hour later, she sat with Veronica in a local bistro, ordering a diet soda and watching as her friend ordered a smoothie with glee.

  “It’s just crushed ice and fruit stuff,” Madison commented as Veronica handed her menu back to the server.

  “But they’re delicious.” Veronica closed her eyes as if already savoring the flavors. “I can’t believe I missed out on these for so long.”

  “Neither can I,” Madison murmured. “Ready to spill your beans yet?”

  Her friend’s eyes snapped open like window shades pulled too hard. “What beans?”

  Madison laughed. “Your backstory. Everyone’s got one. Yours is pretty unknown. You know, where you grew up, what you did before you got here, your parents, siblings.”

  “Only child,” Veronica said, eyes growing distant, as if she lost where she was in the conversation. “I’m an only child. No brothers or sisters.”

  Madison watched her friend for a moment, then sat back in her chair. “Normally I’d joke and say you could have mine, but even when my brother’s a pain in the ass, I still love him. I take it you wished you had one or two?”

  “Oh, I would have loved a dozen siblings. But that just wasn’t in the cards.” Veronica graced their server with a sunny smile as he set the smoothie in a parfait glass in front of her. “Thank you so much. This looks great.”

  Madison nodded as her own soda was placed in front. She toyed with the straw, waiting for Veronica to go on, elaborate more. But she didn’t. “So it was just you and your folks?”

  “Yes, just us three.”

  Awkward silence.

  Madison tried again. “Where did you grow up?”

  “We moved around quite a lot. This really is very good. Would you like a sip?” Veronica held the glass out in offering, eyes silently pleading for the conversation to end.

  “I’m good, thanks.” And that brings us to the end of the fishing expedition. For the day, anyway. “I can relate to the moving part. Thanks to Dad being in the Marines, we moved around a ton. Every few years, a new base. Or a new country.”

  “Were you lonely?”

  “Nah. I mean, I had
Tim no matter where we were. And as much as I give him crap about being annoying—mostly because he is—he’s a good brother too. When we moved to an area where there weren’t many kids, he didn’t ditch me. He let me hang out with him and his friends, even though they were older and I’m sure I slowed them down.” Madison smiled at the memory of a young Tim lecturing her all the way to the park about not being a dork or a dweeb or embarrassing him. And then kicking the ass of another boy who dared call her a dork himself. Name-calling was a right and privilege reserved for siblings.

  “And your father, is he the reason you decided to join the military?”

  “Ha!” Madison laughed, then laughed harder and doubled over, clutching her stomach, letting the chuckles roll out unchecked.

  Veronica quickly grabbed her soda and moved it to the side. “Are you okay? Because if you are, people are staring.”

  “Oh my… Oh my God. Ha. Whew.” Madison wiped her eyes and straightened. “Sorry. That just hit me as so funny. Somewhere across America, wherever my parents are on their road trip of a lifetime, my dad just got a huge pain in his side and he doesn’t know why. No, he wasn’t the reason. For Tim, I’m sure the legacy played a big part. But he had his own desires, and the military was a good fit for him, with or without Dad’s experience.”

  She traced a fingertip over the glass sweating on the table, drawing a pattern in the drops of water. “I wanted to be a nurse, for sure. I went to college. Did my thing. Knew I would walk away with student loans and hated that thought. So I figured, hey, why not do Navy ROTC? Get a few years of experience and then get out, take my degree, and live where I wanted to as a civilian.”

  “I’m sorry, I am a little confused.” Veronica held up her hands in question. “Why not the Marines? Why Navy?”

  Madison smiled. “Ah, there’s the wrench, isn’t it? The Marine Corps doesn’t have medical personnel. All medical staff are Navy.”

  Veronica looked confused again, which Madison couldn’t blame her. “I don’t understand. Why?”

  “Long story short, the Marines are a department of the Navy.” Madison lowered her voice and leaned in, grabbing her drink back as she did. “But don’t say that to a Marine. It’s true, but they’ll hate hearing it.” And she gave her friend a wink.

  Veronica nodded, but Madison could tell she was still confused.

  “Anyway, despite his bluster and grief he gives me over being in the Navy, Dad’s still proud. He knows I’m doing what I love, and that matters most with my parents.”

  A shadow crossed over Veronica’s face, but her tone of voice didn’t change when she asked, “And you’ll be getting out soon, right?”

  “Nope. That’s the thing. I thought it would be a good way to get some experience and have college paid for. But now that I’m in, I love it.” She shrugged. What could a girl do? “I love the Navy. I have no plans to leave.”

  “And the thought of seeing action doesn’t frighten you?”

  Madison thought about that for a moment, then waited while their server placed lunch in front of them. She cut into her quesadilla, watched steam rise out, and put her knife down to let it cool. “I think I’d be a fool to say that the thought of action doesn’t worry me. Not being afraid doesn’t make you brave. Having no fear makes you foolish, in my book, if there’s a real threat. But it’s accepting and recognizing the fear and doing something to work around it.” She picked up one of the tortilla wedges and pointed it at Veronica. “That’s bravery. So says my father, anyway.”

  Veronica sighed and stabbed a piece of chicken in her salad. “You make it sound so… easy. Dwayne just made it sound like a big game. Though, now that I think about it, that was probably his way of coping.”

  “Dwayne?” Madison’s eyes shot over to her. “When did you meet him? Wasn’t he already deployed when you got here?”

  “He was.” She was staring at her salad, but Madison would have sworn the other woman blushed a little. Though it was hard to tell, since she was so shy, what the rising color was in response to. “He and I actually crossed paths over Skype the other day. I finished up with my aunt and uncle, and he called in to see if Tim or Skye were home. I was the only one there, so he got me instead.”

  Madison nodded. “And you guys talked?”

  “Just a little. I know I wasn’t who he’d hoped to reach so I didn’t want to take up much of his time.”

  Madison laughed at that. “I’m sure he wasn’t at all displeased with having someone—anyone—to talk to. You probably made his day. Dwayne’s a social creature.”

  “I could tell.” Veronica went back to her salad.

  Madison dug in to her quesadilla. After polishing off a wedge, she asked, “Are you ready to move this weekend?”

  Veronica’s eyes lit up like a plugged-in Christmas tree. “Oh, yes! All my things are in boxes. I mean, it’s not much. But the furniture is in Tim and Skye’s garage and it’s all ready to be assembled. I’m so glad Jeremy could help.”

  Madison set down her Diet Coke, glad she hadn’t taken a sip yet. Otherwise, she would have choked and made an ass out of herself. “Why is Jeremy coming over to help?” That wasn’t in the plans. She had no clue yet what to do with him. Too soon!

  Veronica shrugged. “Tim was called into the field for the week, so he asked if Jeremy would mind terribly coming over to set up the furniture. Tim said he knew I was looking forward to the move, and he didn’t want to hold things up.” She smiled so widely, Madison did her best to fight off the massive bad mood that threatened to take over lunch.

  It was important to her friend, and so she would be happy for her. She could manage that much. It wouldn’t kill her to figure out a plan of action in a few days. Just like nursing, you tackled one issue at a time.

  “This really is a lovely smoothie.” Veronica sighed. “Are you sure you don’t want a sip?”

  “Does it have any rum?” Madison asked, eyeing it hopefully.

  Veronica laughed, as if that was the best joke she’d ever heard. “Of course not!”

  “Now that’s too damn bad.”

  Chapter 6

  Matthew bent over to grab extra supplies from the lower cabinet, his scrubs lifting up his back to reveal a few inches of tan skin. Madison slapped a hand over his back with a loud snap that had him straightening and jumping a few feet.

  “What the… ah. Madison. Shoulda known it was you,” he said with a grin as he reached out to pinch her arm.

  Madison ducked away just in time. “You need to keep your clothes on. Or wear something under that scrub shirt.”

  “Aw, look. If you can’t resist me and my sexy body…” Matthew wiggled his eyebrows at her in a comical way and flexed one of his rather impressive biceps at her. “I know this is just a temptation too sweet for the ladies.”

  “Uh-huh.” She slammed the top cabinet shut and reached in a drawer for packs of empty syringes. “Too bad you aren’t out for the ladies.”

  “Well.” He winked at her and pushed the cart they were loading with supplies to refill after their shift closer. “The guys don’t mind it either.”

  She laughed, glad he was starting to feel more comfortable mentioning it, even in jest. Though he was a civilian, not a military member, and Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell was a thing of the past, Matthew had always been of the mind to keep it all to himself. He felt as if his job depended on him being closeted rather than out. Madison was one of the few people he let know.

  She could understand the hesitation on his part, though she didn’t agree with how strict he felt he needed to be. But it was his choice, not hers, who he shared the info with. So she kept it to herself.

  “So, how is road rash man?”

  “Hmm?” She counted the gauze pad packets. “We’re a few short on these. Remind me to make a note on inventory.”

  “Sure. And don’t stall
. The hottie from the other day. The motorcycle Marine with the bad case of ass-meets-asphalt? Jeremy something. I thought you two knew each other.”

  “Oh, he’s fine, just… wait.” She spun slowly on her heels to stare at Matthew’s back. “How did you know we knew each other?”

  He glanced over her shoulder, his sarcastic face obvious even in the low light of the supply closet. “Come on, Mad. You walked out of that exam room like your scrubs were on fire. Plus, you’ve mentioned his name like a billion times since we first met. Hard not to remember. I knew something was up.”

  “I have not mentioned him a billion times.” She paused a moment, hand hovering over a pile of freshly laundered gowns, mind rewinding over the past year. “Have I?”

  “Uh-huh. You have,” Matthew answered cheerfully. “It was always in passing, always a simple Jeremy this or Jeremy said that. I doubt anyone else would have noticed. But as your official not-so-stereotypical gay best friend, it’s my duty to tell you that you were a tad obsessive about it. In a cute way,” he hurried to add before she clocked him one.

  Madison huffed. “See if I ever listen to you obsess over your latest crush again.” But though her voice jested, her mind whirled. She mentioned Jeremy, subconsciously, more often than she could remember. Damn. It was worse than she thought.

  “So what are you doing about it?”

  “Doing?”

  Matthew checked the door, made sure it was closed, then hopped up on the counter. “Yeah, hi. Hot guy, single, and you’re semi-obsessed. So what’s the plan?”

  “Not obsessed,” she murmured, mostly out of habit to deny, deny, deny. “But there’s a plan.”

  “Yes. I knew it. That’s my girl. Spill.”

  The door swung open, shining light on the dim room like a floodlight in a police raid. Nurse Henley, one of the supervising floor nurses, poked her head in, lips pursing in disapproval.

  “You two shouldn’t be in here with the door closed for so long. People are gonna talk,” she said.

  “Talk?” Madison asked innocently, biting the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing. “What do you mean?”