Forever, Blue Eyes

by Daisy Dexter Dobbs

  An Ellora’s Cave Romantica Publication

  www.ellorascave.com

  Forever, Blue Eyes

  ISBN # 1-4199-0834-0

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

  Forever, Blue Eyes Copyright© 2006 Daisy Dexter Dobbs

  Edited by Briana St. James.

  Cover art by Syneca.

  Electronic book Publication: December 2006

  This book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.® 1056 Home Avenue, Akron OH 44310-3502.

  This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the authors’ imagination and used fictitiously.

  Content Advisory:

  S – ENSUOUS

  E – ROTIC

  X - TREME

  Ellora’s Cave Publishing offers three levels of Romantica™ reading entertainment: S (S-ensuous), E (E-rotic), and X (X-treme).

  The following material contains graphic sexual content meant for mature readers. This story has been rated E–rotic.

  S-ensuous love scenes are explicit and leave nothing to the imagination.

  E-rotic love scenes are explicit, leave nothing to the imagination, and are high in volume per the overall word count. E-rated titles might contain material that some readers find objectionable—in other words, almost anything goes, sexually. E-rated titles are the most graphic titles we carry in terms of both sexual language and descriptiveness in these works of literature.

  X-treme titles differ from E-rated titles only in plot premise and storyline execution. Stories designated with the letter X tend to contain difficult or controversial subject matter not for the faint of heart.

  Forever, Blue Eyes

  Daisy Dexter Dobbs

  Dedication

  For Bree, for being an editor whose attention to detail keeps me out of hot water, whose intuition is uncanny and whose continued support and encouragement are invaluable.

  Trademarks Acknowledgement

  The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:

  Marshall Field: Marshall Field & Company; The May Department Stores Company

  Chapter One

  Chicago, December 1942

  “Hiya, fellas! Welcome to the USO Christmas party. I’m Betsy, and…” At the outbreak of wolf whistles she paused, savoring the appreciative din for a moment. Speaking into the microphone again, Betsy continued, “And this is Nancy and Linda.” She gestured left and right, beaming a smile as she and her two best friends were treated to more whistles, cheers and clapping.

  “We may not be pinups like Betty Grable or Lana Turner,” Nancy said into her microphone, smiling at the vigorous disagreement of the servicemen.

  “And we may not be the Andrews Sisters,” Linda added.

  “But, brother,” Betsy continued, “we sure know how to swing!” She kicked out her leg, slapping her knee and a cheer went up from the enthusiastic audience of uniformed men. “And we do a mean rendition of “Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy“. Which one of you boys is gutsy enough to come up on stage with us and do a little pantomime while we sing?”

  As she hoisted the bugle in the air, Betsy’s eyes immediately fell on the handsome guy she’d locked gazes with earlier. She’d had been manning the coffee urn when she felt the heat of his gaze on her. Deliciously dashing in his army uniform he stood there watching her for a long moment before ambling up to the table and requesting a cuppa Joe. Tall with a head of wavy black hair, he had a velvet smooth voice, hypnotic brown eyes and a smile that tugged at her heart. When their fingers brushed as she passed him the cup, something electric zigzagged through her body.

  Now he was right up front and flaunting that same devilish smile he’d given her before. “How about you, soldier?” She winked at him.

  The men around him nudged the soldier, urging him to get on stage. “Sure,” he shrugged, “what the heck.” He climbed on stage and took the bugle from Betsy. “But I don’t have to pantomime,” he said, returning Betsy’s wink before putting the horn to his lips and blowing out a jazzy version of reveille. Another cheer went up from the audience.

  “Hey, this boy can blow,” Betsy said to the men. “You’re a real killer-diller on that horn, soldier.”

  “Thanks, blue eyes.”

  The timbre of his voice and sensuous linger of his gaze were unsettling. For an instant, Betsy could almost believe they were alone—and she found herself wishing they were. She took in a deep breath and cleared her throat. “Tell us your name and where you’re from,” she said, easing herself back into her playful stage persona.

  “Johnny,” he answered. “Private John Lakeside of the United States Army, by way of Minneapolis, Minnesota.” He saluted. A few of the men whooped a holler and Johnny laughed. “Sounds like my buddies from Camp McCoy.” At the mention of the Wisconsin base serving men from the upper Midwest, another round of cheers were heard.

  The foursome entertained the audience with a rousing performance of “Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy”, complete with exaggerated gestures and plenty of humor. As Johnny left the stage Betsy and the girls treated the men to Irving Berlin’s hit song, “This is the Army, Mr. Jones”, followed by several other tunes on the hit parade. Although she tried hard, it was difficult for Betsy not to keep her eyes glued on Private Lakeside as she, Nancy and Linda performed.

  As soon as they’d left the stage, and the dance music blared over the speakers, Johnny snagged Betsy’s arm. “Hold on there, blue eyes,” he said. “You don’t think you’re getting away from me that fast, do you? How about a dance?”

  Betsy felt a rush at the touch of Johnny’s hand on her elbow. Before she had a chance to answer, Johnny had whisked her into a jitterbug. He was as impressive with his feet as he was with his mouth, which suddenly had Betsy wondering what else about him might be just as impressive. Her gaze dropped to his groin as he danced, lingering on the olive-drab material a bit longer than prudent.

  The USO events were always chaperoned and dating the soldiers was strictly forbidden. Even so, romance often blossomed. While she and the other volunteers were there to dance with the servicemen and make their visit enjoyable, as a rule Betsy didn’t like to get involved with the servicemen. Why chance getting hooked on a guy when she’d probably never see him again? Rules, however, were meant to be broken, Betsy reasoned as she found herself falling under the charming, dark-eyed soldier’s spell.

  “Another jitterbug,” Betsy lamented three dances later, wrinkling her nose as the music started. She loved swing dancing but had been hoping for something slower this time so the handsome soldier could hold her close in his arms.

  As if he’d been reading her mind Johnny said, “It’s getting warm in here. I could go for a walk outside to cool off, how about you?”

  “Sure.” After grabbing her wool coat and scarf Betsy suddenly became nervous about spending time alone with the soldier. Not because she was afraid of Johnny, but because she was worried she’d bore the poor guy to tears. It wasn’t like she led a very interesting life. Entertaining servicemen at the USO and doing smalltime performances locally, it wasn’t as if she and Nancy and Linda were celebrities. The everyday Betsy was nothing more than a salesclerk at Marshall Field and Company’s glove counter in downtown Chicago. What could she talk to him about to keep him entertained enough not to think she was a complete dud? A smile took hold when Betsy came up with an idea.

  “You mentioned that you liked Abbott and Costello,” she said, thinking a movie would be a great way to be close to him without having to carry a conver
sation. “Their new movie is playing just down the street if you’re interested. I think this one has the Andrews Sisters in it too.”

  “Normally that would be swell.” Johnny hugged Betsy close. “But right now I’m more interested in getting to know you better, blue eyes.” He winked at her.

  She tried to act nonchalant but the way he kept calling her blue eyes made Betsy want to trill out a dreamy sigh. The most delicious sensation zipped through her when Johnny looked at her like that with those glittery eyes of his. It was like she’d never been fully alive until she met the matinee-idol-handsome soldier.

  “Is there some place we could grab a cuppa Joe and something to eat around here?” Johnny asked as they left the dance and stepped into the chilly early evening air. His stomach growled loudly and he and Betsy chuckled.

  “There’s plenty to eat back at the USO.” She hiked a thumb over her shoulder. She hoped that wasn’t what he wanted. She’d like nothing more than to keep Johnny all to herself.

  He gave her that mesmerizing look again. “I meant someplace more private where we could get to know each other better. Someplace where there’s not a hundred other uniformed dogfaces hanging around making eyes at you.”

  “Oh.” A ripple of excitement made her shiver. At that moment Betsy felt so buoyant she expected to look down and find herself walking on air.

  “Cold?”

  “No.” Betsy shook her head. “In fact the temperature is surprisingly mild for December. Bullard’s is a couple of blocks that way.” She pointed to her left. “It’s a corner drugstore with a great soda fountain. They make the best chocolate malts and vanilla phosphates.”

  “Uh-uh. Not private enough.”

  With minimal forethought she opened her handbag and plucked out a folded paper. “Look what I have.” She waved it under Johnny’s nose.

  Holding her hand to still it, his eyes brightened when he opened the paper and read it. “A sugar rationing coupon. Hey, those are like gold.” He licked his lips in exaggerated fashion.

  “I traded a beef coupon for this.” With the coupon an inch from her lips, Betsy smooched the air. “Ever since some of the markets began selling horsemeat because of the meat shortage I’ve been a little leery of buying beef.” She shrugged. “I mean, what if the butcher accidentally slaps a beef label on a package of ground horse.” Now she shuddered.

  “Whoa, Nellie!”

  Betsy nodded. “Exactly. People who’ve tried it say it’s supposed to be pretty good, but I’d much rather take my chances on the sugar.”

  “I’d have to agree with you on that. So we’re off in search of sugar?”

  “Maupon’s Market just down the street should still open,” Betsy answered with a quick glance at her watch. “We can stop in, pick up my eight ounces of sugar and go back to my apartment. I’ve got some flour and just enough chocolate to make a quick batch of chocolate chip cookies.” She felt like a sinful, wanton woman inviting a virtual stranger up to her apartment just a few hours after they’d met. Neighbors would surely talk and her reputation would most likely suffer but right now it didn’t matter. She had to be with him. There was something special about Johnny, something almost magical that made her feel whole and complete when she was with him.

  “Sounds swell.” Johnny linked arms with her. “Got the coffee too?”

  “And a percolator and two aprons.”

  “Two?”

  Betsy giggled. “You’ll need one if you don’t want to get your uniform all full of flour when you help me bake those cookies. So, what do you say, soldier boy?”

  “Putting me on KP, huh?” He laughed. “Well I guess that’s better than LD. Just point me to the kitchen.” He gave a salute.

  Betsy thought for a moment. “Okay, I know KP is kitchen patrol, but what’s LD?”

  Cupping his hand over his mouth Johnny leaned in close. “Latrine duty.”

  “Oh. No, I wouldn’t do that to you.” She laughed to herself as the wicked thought of engaging in a little BD, bedroom duty, with Johnny came to mind. Betsy felt herself flush as succulent images of her and the gorgeous soldier, naked, hot and sweaty jitterbugged across her mind.

  A short time later they were bustling around Betsy’s kitchen, talking up a storm about anything and everything as they tossed cookie ingredients into a big glass bowl. Johnny was so masculine that he still looked every inch the man all dolled up in the ruffled over-the-head apron. By the time the cookies came out of the oven, Betsy felt as if they’d known each other for years. She felt so comfortable with him, so at ease. In fact, she’d barely even given any thought to her usual anxiety about her weight. Not that she was huge, but she certainly wasn’t a delicate small-boned creature. The way Johnny sort of ate her up with his eyes made her feel slender and entirely appealing.

  Crazy and sudden as it seemed, Betsy could actually imagine spending a lifetime with this man. Not only was Johnny handsome as all get-out, he was charming and bright and witty and…well, he was everything she’d ever dreamed about all rolled into one big sexy package. She sent up a silent prayer of thanks that she’d had the good sense to volunteer at the USO dance instead of staying home to curl up with a good book. Oh, what she would have missed!

  “So tell me,” Betsy said as she lit a snowman-shaped candle and pair of angel candles the living room. “Where’d you learn to blow a horn like that, soldier? Are you fixing to be the next Harry James?”

  “I wouldn’t mind.” Johnny chuckled. “I’ve been playing the trumpet ever since I was a kid. Maybe when the war is over I’ll form a band and you and your friends can come on board as the singers.”

  “Nancy and Linda plan to retire to go the apron and baby bottle route soon, but I’m your girl if you need a singer.” Excited at the prospect of spending time with Johnny in the future, she turned her attention to the Christmas tree, fussing with the ornaments. The small tree shone with tinsel and was dotted with an eclectic assortment of mostly homemade trinkets.

  “Not the homebody type?” Johnny asked.

  “Maybe,” Betsy said with a shrug as she fiddled with the paper chain garland. “Someday. If I find the right guy.” She felt her cheeks warm and scooted back into the kitchen for the refreshments.

  Once situated with their coffee and fresh-baked cookies, Betsy turned on the radio and joined Johnny on the sofa. She watched as he took a warm cookie off the plate and bit into it. Closing his eyes, he murmured his appreciation before darting his tongue over his lip to lick the residue. It had her wishing more than anything she were that stray bit of chocolate.

  “Join us on Christmas Day,” the announcer said, “as Lionel Barrymore treats listeners to his annual portrayal of Ebenezer Scrooge in Charles Dickens’ A Christmas Carol.”

  “Oh, I love that program,” Betsy said. “I listen every year. If…if you don’t have other plans for Christmas, Johnny, you’re welcome to come over and listen to the broadcast with me. I’m not the world’s best cook, so there won’t be a big, fancy Christmas dinner, but I think I can manage not to ruin some meatloaf, peas and potatoes.”

  “Aren’t you spending the holiday with your family?”

  “No, it’s just me.” Betsy gave a wistful shrug. “I lost Mom, Dad and my older sister in an automobile accident a few years ago. Grandparents are all gone too.”

  “I’m sorry. I lost my parents too, about five years back.” Johnny took her hands in his. “Aw, Betsy, I wish I could spend Christmas with you—more than anything I do—but I can’t.”

  “Oh.” Betsy sucked in a deep breath as sexy images of the two of them engaged in a passionate Christmas romp fizzled. What did she expect? Of course the man didn’t want to spend Christmas with her. He hardly knew her. “That’s okay. So you’ve already made other plans then. Is it…are you spending Christmas with your girlfriend back in Minnesota?”

  “There’s no girlfriend. Blue eyes, since you came into my life I only have eyes for you.” He looked at her mouth and his dark eyes glittered.

 
When he leaned in close, cupped her face in his large hands and brushed his lips across hers Betsy thought she’d melt into a puddle at his feet. Every cell in her body zinged to awareness and she felt a series of insistent flutters between her thighs. She’d been with two other men so it wasn’t as if she were a virgin, but she’d never experienced the physical and emotional sensations with them that she felt with Johnny. At the touch of his lips against hers she was tempted to devour him, to taste every inch of him.

  “I can’t be with you,” Johnny continued, “because I’m shipping out on Christmas Eve. I got my orders three days ago.”

  “No.” Betsy bolted upright in her seat.

  Johnny nodded. “I came down here to Chicago from Wisconsin on leave because I’ve never been here before and wanted to see it. And now I’m mighty glad I did.” He kissed her again.

  “Johnny,” she said, her voice almost frantic at the possibility of never seeing him again, “Christmas is just a couple of days away. They wouldn’t make you go on the holiday. They can’t.”

  “Unfortunately war isn’t put on hold for holidays.” Johnny smiled as he caressed her cheek. “They wouldn’t have issued those orders if it wasn’t necessary, Betsy. Did you hear President Roosevelt’s last Fireside Chat on the radio?”

  Betsy nodded. “I never miss a single one.”

  “Remember, FDR said the fate of democracy rests with the Allied Forces. The more troops we have in the field, the sooner the war will be won, and the less casualties we’ll have.” Betsy nodded again as he spoke, this time with an audible sigh. “It’s my duty to serve my country,” Johnny said with resolve.

  Gazing into his determined eyes, Betsy felt her eyes well up with tears. As the sound of Bing Crosby singing “White Christmas” came over the airwaves, she grabbed Johnny’s hair in both hands, hauling him hard and close and kissing him like she’d kissed no other man before.