Shiver

by Nancy Lee Badger

  “Sarge,” a dozen voices yelled.

  His foggy mind searched for a way to connect his brain to his tongue and respond. With all the air having suddenly escaped the moment his back slammed onto the hard ground, his starved lungs concentrated on sucking in air as his ears picked up a high-pitched voice.

  An agitated female voice.

  “No!” The sound filtered in, comforting him for some ungodly reason. Grumbles and raised male voices filled the air again until the familiar voice shouted back.

  “Let me through, I’m a nurse.” Wispy blonde hair fluttered over the high collar of her bright pink parka. Her cheeks gleamed red from the cold. He couldn’t see her eyes, but he could smell her womanly fragrance. Or, was that ginger? I can’t seem to focus. Damn.

  Her gloves flew across his chest to land somewhere near his uninjured hip. Long, white fingers pressed his scalp, then danced along his brow.

  Damn. I’ve died and gone to heaven.

  * * *

  The thump shocked her from her daydream. Her mind whirled when a crowd ran toward a lump that lay in the dead grass beside the road.

  “No!” Jayne burst from her car and raced toward the shape. Several raised voices surrounded the groaning man, impeding her way. “Let me through, I’m a nurse.”

  The uniform-clad forest of bodies parted. She caught the silent protest in a few of them, their eyes raking her with a combination of disbelief, scorn, and downright rage. The disbelief might be an acceptable response. She wasn’t exactly dressed like a nurse, but she knew what to do.

  “You.” Jayne pointed to a burly sergeant holding a very scary-looking gun. She swallowed and then realized it wasn’t aimed her way. “Call 9-1-1. You, watch for the emergency vehicles,” Jayne said to the only other soldier wearing three stripes.

  Kneeling, she brushed a strand of windblown hair behind her ear and whispered, “Can you hear me?”

  He didn’t answer, but he was moving all his extremities. His camouflage pants, ripped along his left hip, showed a slice of army green underwear, but no blood. I must have caught him with the plastic bumper.

  She forced her gaze south, to his boots. Dust dimmed their shine. His patrol cap lay beneath his right wrist. His fingers grabbed blindly, as if searching for the missing piece of his uniform. How typical of a military man. Johnny never ventured out of their home without everything in its proper place.

  Why am I thinking of Johnny now?

  All of a sudden, she realized she was surrounded by a horde of strapping young men, all bent on taking revenge on the person deemed the cause for their comrade’s injury…

  “Holy Christmas,” she said when it dawned on her that they were targeting her. The driver of the car. The car that slammed into…

  Him.

  She sucked in chilled air as her patient’s green eyes snapped open.

  * * *

  At the sound of a voice from his past, Chris forced his eyes open, then winced when a knee nudged his bruised left hip.

  “I don’t care if it’s nearly Christmas. How is it you are here? Now. Jayne?” He must be dead.

  “Chris? Is it really you?”

  “Unfortunately.” The word was ground out between clenched teeth. He gripped his patrol cap with one hand and his hip with his other. He wanted to shut her out and toss away her words of concern. He needed to flush her delicious scent and silky touch back into the past.

  “Are you hurt?”

  “Jesus, Jayne. What do you think?”

  Several of his men laughed.

  “Okay. Back in formation. And, get out of the road.” His fellow non-coms had the situation under control, so he closed his eyes and concentrated on an internal check of all his systems. Everything moved while his chest rose with each breath. Something else rose as well.

  He tossed his hat onto his groin, then turned his head to look into the blue eyes he’d dreamt of for eight long, lonely years.

  “Jayne,” he whispered. A statement, not a curse, but her wide eyes and quick jump to her feet said she thought otherwise.

  Sirens poured through the gathering clouds.

  “We’re gonna get wet,” a private moaned. His buddy muttered something coarse and low. Even from this angle—flat on his back—Chris could see the boy suddenly drop to the ground, his arms pumping with each push-up.

  A smile pulled at the corners of his mouth until her fragrance intensified. Jayne had bent lower. Did she plan to kiss him? In front of his men?

  Her fingers brushed along his safety vest, then traveled down his chest, unbuttoning him as they scurried along, light as a feather. Her breath, smelling of ginger and spice and something sweet, hovered close as she leaned over him.

  So close. Too close. If she tries to unbutton my pants, I’m outta here.

  He struggled to a sitting position and stared. Fate had struck him smack in the face. And heart. What was he to do? How would he handle her if she thought to continue their relationship?

  Relationship? What relationship? I screwed her in my dad’s truck.

  Then she frowned as if she’d read his mind and didn’t like what she had seen.

  CHAPTER 3

  She felt the frown take over when all she really wanted was to smile. Chris. Hawkins. Here. How had fortune shined on her the same day she thought of him and…

  Crap. I hit him with my car.

  This wasn’t the cheerful reunion she’d dreamed about since her sixteenth year. This wasn’t his dreamy realization he should never have disappeared. When she’d heard he’d taken her virginity, left the state, joined the army, and fled, she’d still hoped he’d come to his senses.

  I wished for a letter, a phone call, an apology.

  Her sacrifice had been for nothing. Well, not nothing. He’d wrapped her in his warmth and had used his mouth, tongue, and fingers. He’d prepared her for the sudden pain, then drove her up to the heavens with exquisite joy while whispering words of love. And promises.

  “Promises you didn’t keep.”

  “What? I never promised you a damn thing.”

  Crap! I said that out loud. She really put her foot in it this time. Now he thinks I languished about, waiting for him, ever since that night.

  “Forget it. Let’s take a look at your head. Don’t move your neck.”

  “My neck’s fine. It didn’t get kissed by your bumper.”

  He said the word as if wanting her to remember. His kisses were the best she ever tasted. At the time, they’d been the only kisses. She went on to kiss a few more boys until Johnny appeared in her young life.

  Johnny was an expert kisser. She shivered when she recalled how he’d swept her off her feet three years after she’d seen the last of Christopher Hawkins. And, I have two lovely little girls to show for it.

  As she brushed dirt off his right cheek with her left hand, Chris’s gaze locked on her ring.

  Her wedding ring.

  Why hadn’t she thought to take it off? Because, I wanted the added hindrance.

  It was an easy way to keep a man at arm’s length. Only now, her scheme had backfired.

  * * *

  She’s married? Damn. No, that was good news. Right? He had to keep her at a distance. Couldn’t let his guilt force him into a relationship. He did not have to start up with her simply because he’d taken everything she offered, then ran.

  “I’m fine. Help me up, guys.”

  Jayne jumped to her feet and brushed dirt from the knees of her tight jeans. When had she unzipped her coat? The pale, freckled skin just above her breasts winked at him.

  I must be more out of it than I thought.

  He shook his head and allowed two men from his platoon to lift him to his feet. He winced then rubbed his hip.

  “Damn!” Chris said when he fingered the tear in his camouflaged ACU trousers.

  “That’ll have to come out of your pay, Sarge.”

  Chris threw a dark glare toward one of his sergeants, and it was enough to keep the rest of the group from laug
hing. This was not funny.

  “I’m fine, so give me a break, guys.” He motioned to the man with the mouth. “Take them back to the barracks. I’ll…deal with this.” He lifted his chin toward the flickering lights in the distance. The other non-com ordered two soldiers to guard the road until the MPs arrived.

  Having retreated to her car, Jayne, the woman of his dreams, stood silent. She bent and slipped inside, then stood holding some papers and what looked to be a woman’s clutch wallet.

  Probably looking for her cell phone. Has to call that husband of hers.

  As she pulled a phone from the small purse and dialed, he snapped his teeth together. What did he expect? She’d gone on with her life. Whereas he’d tried very, very hard to end his.

  * * *

  The ambulance’s sirens whined down as they pulled to a stop. A Jeep carrying two MPs halted near the small group. Jayne stood silently beside her car, her cell phone gripped in one trembling hand and the car registration in the other.

  “Hello?”

  “Marti? It’s Jayne.”

  “Your job interview over already?”

  “Not quite. I…I had an accident.”

  “You okay? Do you need us to come get you?”

  “And have you try to squeeze three kids into your car? Besides, my girls’ car seats are currently still strapped inside this car. No, I’ll get a ride back after the ambulance leaves.”

  “You are hurt.”

  “I am not. I…damn.”

  Silence. Marti probably never heard a curse from Jayne’s lips in all their lives. Too bad this day broke her resolve. And her heart. All over again. I saw the hate in his eyes.

  She sighed, said good-bye to her sister after promising to call back, and then leaned back against her small car. Weariness sucked all her strength, similar to the depression she harbored during the days following the news of Johnny’s death. Only this felt worse.

  She’d had one tiny pinprick of hope. That miniscule chance she’d once again succumb to the erotic pleasure of melting beneath the rock-hard shape of Christopher Hawkins. Until she ran him over with her car.

  “Double damn,” she muttered.

  “Miss?”

  She glanced from her dirty boots up and up until she saw her reflection in the sunglasses of a large, uniformed, gun-toting member of the base’s military police.

  “What!” Why did she snap at the man? No need ending up in the brig, or whatever. She’d miss her kids. Her sister. And the wedding.

  “Are you injured?”

  “Who, me? No. Shaken up. I never saw him. The sun…” She was rambling. Not the thing to do when questioned by the police.

  “Let’s talk over there.”

  Several men were ringing her car. One pulled open the hood latch and two bent over her engine.

  “They’re checking to see if it’s in running order before we call for a tow.”

  “Oh, thanks.” Her answer was automatic since she had trained her attention on Chris. He sat on the bumper of the ambulance, whose back doors were wide open. Two medics checked him out. He’d waved them over the moment they pulled to a stop. She watched as he pointed to his hip, then to her car. The medics nodded and both men gave her a quick glance.

  All three laughed.

  Great, now I am a subject of ridicule.

  She felt like she had the day she realized he was really, truly gone. The day her world crumbled in on itself.

  CHAPTER 4

  “You should have something to eat. This appetizer assortment looks fabulous. Much better than the mess hall.”

  “I’m not hungry.” She surprised even herself at how raw her words sounded. A week of sleepless nights and little food hadn’t helped.

  “How about a drink?” Marti asked.

  Jayne’s sister twirled a lock of her hair while looking around the hotel bar. Marti was more open-minded when it came to men and looked fabulous in her red cocktail dress, heels, and expertly applied make-up.

  “You look great,” Jayne said, and forced a smile.

  “I know. Now let’s hope someone besides my baby sister notices.”

  “We should head for the church.”

  “The wedding will wait. I’m hungry.”

  “Won’t there be food?”

  “Not until after the service. If I’m gonna live on MREs for a year, I am gonna fatten up now.”

  Marti looked serious, but if she added even one ounce to her frame, her slinky dress would split at the seams. While Marti filled a plate, Jayne walked outside. They’d parked between the church and this hotel, where the reception would be held. A stiff breeze swirled around her nylon-clad legs and lifted her skirt. She smelled something in the air. Snow? It was cold enough, but unfamiliarity with the cold white flakes didn’t help now.

  Lights twinkled in the trees lining the park across the street. It’s Christmas Eve, she thought with hope. She’d taken her girls and her nephew to see Santa at the PX and couldn’t help but make a silent wish for herself.

  God, please bring me whatever it is I need.

  * * *

  Chris saw Jayne first. She sat in a pew near the front of the church, her eyes trained on the tall, stained glass windows to the right of the altar. From the vestibule, where the groomsmen were lining up, he had a perfect view of her profile. Gathered in a soft bun and pinned to the top of her head, her gold hair gave her an angelic countenance.

  She’d pinned a pretty gold wreath to the bodice of her green velvet dress. Her straight nose and porcelain skin—peppered with the freckles he liked to count in his dreams before trying to will away his erections—radiated with innocent beauty. And desire.

  Did her husband satisfy her like the night he’d filled her damp heat with his pulsing, hungry cock and felt her shatter? Even now, he had to smooth the front of his kilt as he attempted to control the rampant erection that planned to ruin his entrance.

  “All set?” the groom asked. The men mumbled their affirmation. A smattering of late-arriving guests were quickly shown to their seats, and then the men walked single file down the far left side of the church while the minister gathered the attention of the crowd.

  “Showtime!” The best man shoved an elbow in Chris’s side. He grunted, then forced a smile. Chris followed the groom, best man, and two others to the altar. He sucked in a breath and turned to face the crowd.

  A sunbeam, shining down on her beautiful face, grabbed his attention.

  Their gazes locked.

  The organist’s stubby fingers twittered across the keys. His heart lurched when the strains of the familiar wedding march filled the chapel. His pulse ratcheted higher, and his palms grew damp when he recognized the want in her eyes. Until he remembered her ring.

  It should have been me.

  * * *

  Oh my, she thought. She couldn’t speak, not when the young man of her dreams stood before her as a mature adult in full Highland dress, from his kilt to his sporran, his shiny black ghillie brogues to the sgian dubh in his sock. She never realized how handsome a man could look. I wonder if he’s Scottish?

  Hawkins sounded…American. While Marti sat bolt upright and followed the ceremony, Jayne lost all sense of time. In a swirling mist, on a cliff above the roiling Scottish sea, her true love fought the demons of Hell and…

  “Jayne! Stand up. They’re leaving.”

  She stood just in time to watch the teary bride march up the aisle by the side of her new husband. The entire wedding party wore plaid. Even the bride sported a colorful length of matching wool wrapped over one shoulder then across her chest and pinned at her waist.

  Jayne’s throat choked closed at the beauty and splendor. Her breath hitched when Chris strutted by. When his gaze flickered over her for a fraction of a second, damp heat smoldered between her legs. She rubbed her sweaty palms down the front of her dress and tried to suck in enough air to live.

  * * *

  The catered buffet proved exceptional, and she and Marti giggled at the labels.
Bangers and mash? Meat pies she understood. She veered away from the bloody sausage called haggis. Too soon, she headed for the coatroom. She couldn’t stay. Not when dancing had started and the room closed in on her.

  “You ought to try it,” a deep voice stated from behind her left shoulder.

  She froze.

  “Chris?” She spun and faced him.

  He looked around at the nearly empty corridor. When he turned his heated gaze her way, she tried to speak. She failed. Miserably.

  “Expecting someone else? Looks like you came with Marti.”

  “You remember her?”

  “Sure. She was a fireball in high school. Too wild for me.”

  “She joined the army right after you…disappeared.”

  He had the decency to look chagrined. She hadn’t noticed that he’d cupped her elbow until she heard the whispered opening of a door. She looked around, but darkness filled nearly every corner.

  “And we are in this room, why?”

  “Where is he?”

  “Who?” Now he was scaring her. The timbre of his voice hardened, and his fingers gripped her upper arms. His vise-like grip would leave marks.

  “Chris, you’re hurting me.”

  As fast as he had grabbed her, his hands lifted away.

  “I want to know why he’s not here. With you.”

  “Who?” Why was he speaking in riddles?

  A slight shadow and a small breeze indicated he shook his head. A low snort filled the darkened room.

  “Your husband. How could he allow a woman—”

  “Wait one damn minute! No one gets to allow me to do anything.” She’d raised her voice, something she had promised never to do if they ever crossed paths.

  “How can he allow a woman as beautiful as you out of his sight?”

  “Oh.” She should have let him finish his sentence. What should she do? An impulse so raw and shocking flamed inside her, down to her womb. This man, tonight, was fair game. She’d taste him, use him, and spit him out. Then she’d get that nursing position, move on base, and forever have her dreams to keep her warm at night.