“Oh, a concussion!” Madison was almost relieved at the thought. At least that would end the damn thing, if one of them was unconscious.
“Knock it off, squirt!” Tim yelled at her.
“Don’t yell at her,” Jeremy shot back through clenched teeth. Though whether it was anger or pain from the punch that had him clenching, she wasn’t sure.
Tim ignored that. “There I was, talking about some guy I thought my sister was sneaking around with, venting to my supposed best friend, looking for an outsider’s perspective. Meanwhile, you’re the fucking guy. And you’re not outside at all. You’re right in the thick of things. Damn, dude.”
“Need I remind you, when you brought all that shit up, you were holding a loaded weapon? I didn’t feel it was the best time to break out the heart-to-heart confessions.”
“I’m perfectly capable of being rational,” her brother said through clenched teeth of his own. Which Madison knew had to be from anger, since he hadn’t been punched in the jaw. Yet.
“I beg your pardon?” Madison asked from her perch on the couch. “What about this scenario screams rational to you?”
“You. Be quiet.” Tim whirled to face her and shot her a look that likely had his junior Marines pissing in their pants. To her? That face stopped intimidating her when she was seven.
“Right. Forgot my lines. I’ll just sit here and swoon at the first sight of blood. Oh fiddle dee dee.” Madison punctuated the fake Southern accent with a one-fingered salute special for her brother.
Despite his best efforts, Jeremy’s face split into a wide grin, then winced at the pain. “She’s a total smartass, isn’t she?”
“Always has been,” her brother agreed. He glanced sideways at Jeremy. “You seriously put up with her? Voluntarily?”
“I’m still here,” Madison sang out.
“Quiet,” they both barked back in unison.
She opened her mouth on autopilot, ready to sass them right back. She could give as well as receive. But then she snapped it shut again. If they were busy talking trash about her, then they weren’t killing each other. While not her favorite option in the world, it did save them all a trip to the ER. She chose the path of least resistance and let them bond over mocking insults.
Jeremy walked to the fridge, reached in the freezer, and pulled out a frozen bag of veggies—one of those deals you could microwave right in the bag—and gingerly placed it over the bottom of his jaw.
Tim smirked. “Pussy.”
“I’d rather avoid the swelling, to be honest. It didn’t hurt. You punch like a girl.”
“That’s not what your ass said when it hit the floor.”
Lord, but men had the most bizarre way of showing affection. Madison realized they weren’t going to kill each other after all and took the opportunity to slip past Tim’s back and into the bedroom area. This would be so much easier to face if she were properly dressed, including underwear.
“I saw that, squirt.”
She froze, one hand gripping her shirt from the floor. Shit.
“We’re not done.”
“Bite me.” She did some fancy maneuvering to pull her bra on under the oversized man’s shirt, then her own shirt replaced Jeremy’s. A quick change for her bottoms and she was at least decently attired for the inevitable awkward moment.
Peeking out, she couldn’t see either Tim or Jeremy. Nor could she hear them. She tiptoed around the corner and gasped in surprise when she saw them sitting on the couch together, both gripping bottles of beer, staring at the blank flat-screen.
They looked zoned out, completely unaware of her presence anymore. Or even each other.
Men. Were. So. Bizarre.
“Should you really be drinking? It’s like eleven in the morning.”
Silence.
“Is everyone all right in here? Are my stellar skills as a nurse required?”
The joke didn’t crack the tense air.
She took a step forward, intent on checking Jeremy’s jaw. Not that she didn’t think he could handle his own, but a possible broken jaw wasn’t something to mess around with. Reaching out, her hand was almost to his chin when he grabbed her wrist.
“Go home, Madison.”
“Just let me look at—”
“Go. Home.” When she raised a brow at the condescending tone, he added a terse, “Please.”
Looking between Jeremy and Tim, she shook her head and stepped back. “You know, men are completely illogical. Which is the nicest word I can come up with for what you two are acting like right now.” When neither responded to her insult, she tossed her hands in the air. “Fine. I know when I’m not wanted.”
“That’s not it,” Jeremy said quietly, enough to soften the blow of being removed from the whole situation like a child being kicked out of the room when Mommy and Daddy were arguing.
She huffed. “I’m going, I’m going.” Slipping on her shoes, she grabbed her bag and slung it over her shoulder. With a quick glance to Tim, she ordered, “Do not kill him. I don’t have that much money for bail, and Mom will just murder you afterward anyway.” Then she walked out and shut the door behind her, not at all sure she should have left.
***
The clock over his desk ticked the time, each second louder than the last. One minute passed in silence. Then two. Seven minutes later, neither man had spoken and Jeremy started to wonder if he could completely escape the entire scenario without saying a word.
“She’s my sister.”
Damn. There went that idea. He took a swig of beer. “Yeah. I know.”
“I’ve always protected her. Or, okay.” Tim stopped to smile ruefully. “When I wasn’t the one giving her shit like a big brother should, I was protecting her.”
It sounded so easy, so simple, the love and affection of one sibling to another. Jeremy had nothing to base that on, so he just nodded.
“It’s hard going from big brother, ultimate protector, and defender of her playground experience to…” He shrugged. “I don’t even know. Just a friend, I guess.”
“Still her brother,” Jeremy said, taking another sip. The drink was growing warmer by the minute between his hands. The liquid rolled and sloshed in his empty stomach, making him regret the choice of beer over water. But his hands needed something to do. “She still wants you to be her brother. She loves you like crazy.”
“I just need to dial back. Right. I’m starting to figure that out,” Tim said, self-deprecation painting every word. He sighed. “I just never want her to feel hurt. It’s the same way I feel with Skye. Some asshole hurts my wife? I’d break him.”
“Rightly so.”
“Are you going to be that asshole with Madison? The guy who hurts her?” Tim asked. The please don’t be was silent. But understood.
Jeremy thought long and hard about it. It would be easy to say no. That he’d warned her up front it was nothing, that the simple affair had zero strings attached. That he tried to avoid getting involved to begin with. That it was Madison who approached him, not the other way around. But was that all the truth? Could he not have tried harder to push her away? Couldn’t he have done more, been more stern with his decision not to become involved?
Yeah. He could have. So in the end, he couldn’t blame Mad, much as he’d love to not have any focused on himself. They both did a bang-up job fucking this one up.
Finally, he answered quietly, “I don’t want to be.”
Tim thought about that for a moment, then nodded. “I believe that. Now. How are you going to fix this?”
“There’s nothing to fix. We’re friends. We knew that walking in, we’ll still know it walking out. The end.” And what a way to go. Nothing said this has been fun, but now it’s over quite like having the woman’s brother knock him on his ass.
“So that’s it? You were just
in it for the easy goods?”
He snorted. “Please. You know your sister. Is there anything easy about that one?”
Tim tilted his head in acknowledgement, tapping his bottle against Jeremy’s in agreement. “I’ve got twenty-six years of experience that says no. If there’s a way to complicate a situation, Madison will find it and excel.”
He let his head fall back, then stared at the popcorn ceiling. “I fucked up.”
“Yup.”
“This is a complete mess.”
“Sure is.”
“I could not have handled this worse.”
“No way.”
“Stop agreeing with me.”
“Okay.” Tim tipped the bottle, took a drink, and made a face, as if just now registering the taste. He rotated the bottle around, trying to read the label. “This tastes like piss. What the hell kind of beer is this, anyway?”
“Cheap.” Jeremy grabbed both bottles and walked to the sink to dump them down. “Let’s head out for a real drink.”
“At what, eleven in the morning? On a Sunday?”
“Hell, why not? Aw, shit,” he said, remembering his delivery. He checked the clock once more. “I had a sub being delivered… but that was supposed to be here like half an hour ago.”
“Check your phone. Maybe they called.”
Jeremy slid his phone out of his cargo shorts pocket and realized it was still on silent. He’d turned the ringer off the night before, not wanting anything to interrupt his time with Madison. “No voice mail. But a text.”
He read the message and smiled, in spite of himself.
“What?” Tim asked.
“Madison ran into the delivery guy on her way to her car. She signed for it and took off.” He looked up and grinned at Tim. “Your sister stole my lunch.”
Chapter 19
“Okay. So let me get this straight. You’re in the middle of a serious discussion with Jeremy. You’re wearing his shirt and nothing else—”
“Boxers,” Madison corrected Matthew. “I had on boxers under the shirt.”
“You’re really ruining the dramatic effect I’m trying to build here.” Matthew sighed. “But it’s not like anyone could see them though. Am I right?” When she nodded, he went on. “You answer the door, hair still wet from the shower, and it’s your brother. Whom you’ve been keeping this torrid affair a secret from this entire time. He storms in, figures out what’s going on, and defends your honor with a sucker punch to lover boy’s jaw?”
Madison sprawled out on the couch in the break room, arranging her scrub top so it covered her stomach. “That about sums it up.”
Matthew was silent for a moment. She finally dared to crack one eye open and check. And found him shaking his head as if in disbelief. “What?”
He sighed morosely. “I always miss the good stuff. Why didn’t Jeremy defend your honor with a punch to my jaw?” He stood and found his reflection in the metal paper towel dispenser by the sink, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “I might look pretty badass with a black eye, don’t you think?”
“Shut up.”
“What? It’s like a telenovela! Right there in his living room. All that’s missing is someone shouting ‘Ay, caramba!’ That’s good gravy. You can’t make this stuff up.”
“I wish I was.” She stared at the pockmarked ceiling tiles. “I’m supposed to be napping, you know. I took that extra shift to cover for Liz, thanks to her kid being sick. And you’re distracting me.”
“Oh please. Like you weren’t dying to blab the whole story the minute you walked in. You all but bounced over to me.”
“I did not bounce.” Maybe just a little.
“Fine, then you pounced. Tigger-style.”
“Does that really get the guys hot? You quoting Winnie the Pooh at them?”
Matthew flipped her off then pulled out his wallet and shuffled through until he found a dollar to feed into the soda machine, making a selection and pressing the button. After the plastic bottle rattled to the bottom, he cracked the top and took a sip. “Ah, better. Now, where was I? Oh. Right. So where does this leave you and lover boy?”
“For the seven hundred and forty-ninth time, stop calling him that. And I don’t know. He’s so intent on fulfilling his dad’s bizarre legacy dream that he’s not even remotely close to giving us a shot.”
Matthew used one long-fingered hand to spin the cap on the scarred tabletop in the break room. “You can understand the legacy thing though, right? I mean, you’re what, O’Shay generation number three in the military?”
“Four,” she murmured. “And yes, I do get that. But the thing is… if this wasn’t what Tim or I wanted, our parents would have been fine with it. There might have been some good-natured teasing, but at the end of the day if we were happy, that’s what would have mattered most. It just so happened that both of our dreams coincided with our family’s tradition of serving.”
“Can you say the same for Jeremy’s parents?”
“Parent. Just his father, from what I understand. I guess his mom was just never in the picture. He’s never talked about her. And I don’t know.” She bit her lip. “But he’s an adult. His dad lives on the other side of the country. He’s been basically on his own since he left for college.”
Matthew sighed. “Sometimes even independent adults struggle with how to break news of their lives to their parents. Remember when I said it took me three years to get up the nerve to come out to my parents?”
Madison gave him a side look. “Totally different.”
“How?”
Good question.
Matthew took her silence as an invitation to continue. “My parents love me. My orientation was never brought up before. I had no reason to think they’d disown me. Not to mention, I’m an adult, completely independent from them both financially and emotionally, and they live three states away, thank the good Lord.”
Madison snorted.
“Well, hey. I love my folks. But we all do better with a little distance. There was nothing standing in my way from telling them the truth and letting the chips fall where they may. But I held back.”
“Because it was scary,” she guessed.
“She gets it in one.” Matthew rolled the soda between his palms, little droplets of condensation flying from the bottle to the cheap laminate tabletop. “You never really know how a parent will react. And deep down inside, I think there will always be this little voice that encourages us to please our parents, no matter how old we are. You and I have it lucky. Our parents are pleased if we’re happy, which makes being selfish and just doing whatever we want that much easier.”
She smiled, mostly because she knew he wanted her to. But her brain was working a hundred miles a minute.
“I don’t know the relationship he has with his dad. It sounds like you might not really know, either. Maybe that’s something to investigate.” He stood, capped the soda, and set it down on the floor by the couch where she could reach it. Leaning down, he brushed a kiss over her forehead. “Get some sleep. I’ll tell the desk nurse to wake you in thirty.”
“Thanks. Love you.”
“Love you too, Mad.”
***
Jeremy opened his work email early Monday morning, glad to be back in the swing of things. In his office, nobody could bother him about Madison, or writing, or his future. Nobody would tell him to make hard decisions… or at least not personal ones. And he could simply breathe and do his job without feeling the pressure breathing down his neck.
He quickly skimmed through two reports, one schedule update, and then hovered his mouse over an email from his father. The same father he hadn’t called last week, like normal.
Time to bite the bullet. There goes my peaceful morning.
He clicked the email header, titled simply “My
Son,” and read quickly, hoping to treat it like ripping off a bandage.
Ten minutes later, he was on his third read-through when a knock came at the door. He held up a finger and finished the paragraph. Though why he couldn’t stop going through the words time and time again, he wasn’t sure. They weren’t changing. Finally, he tore his eyes away to see Tim lounging in his doorway. “’Sup?”
Tim gave him an assessing once-over. “Little bruised, but not bad.”
“Probably because you only grazed me. Your aim’s off.” Jeremy pushed back from the desk a little ways so he could prop his knee against the edge, leaning back in his chair. “That all you came for?”
“I promised Madison I’d make sure you weren’t officially broken,” he admitted before sitting down. “For some reason, she was worried I’d damaged your pretty face.”
And two for two. Both subjects he would rather have avoided—Madison and his father—in a ten-minute span. Lucky day. “I’m fine.” He worked his jaw a little, as if to prove to himself how fine he was. With a wince, he rubbed at the soreness below his ear. “Okay, a little tender. So I won’t eat steak tonight. I’m good to go.”
“Glad. You could use a refresher course in hand-to-hand combat, dude. I’m pretty sure I telegraphed that punch and you didn’t even try to deflect or dodge.”
“No. I didn’t.” He said it simply, looking his best friend in the eye. A moment later, Tim nodded.
“So that’s the way of it. Figures.”
“All you’re doing is playing nursemaid then?”
Tim shrugged. “Blackwater needed to do some work in the system and his computer locked up so he’s using mine. I made myself scarce. Not like I can do much without the system myself anyway right now.”
Jeremy shuddered. “When’s he outta here?”
“Few months. Should get word of the new CO sometime soon.” Tim clapped hands over his knees and stood. “Guess I’ll go wander around and pretend like I’m busy.”
“Take some guys out for a combat lesson,” Jeremy suggested. “Your right hook could use some work.”
Tim flipped him off as he disappeared down the hallway.
Officer Breaks the Rules (Semper Fidelis. Always Faithful.) Page 24
