Once and For All: An American Valor Novel

by Cheryl Etchison

  She smiled then shivered as the air-conditioning kicked on, her flesh erupting into a sea of little bumps.

  He stepped closer, using his palms to stroke her arms and warm her chilled skin.

  “How is it your hands are so hot?” she whispered.

  What he said in response, he couldn’t recall, only that it made her smile. And he knew in that moment, with her staring up at him with big brown eyes and heart-stopping smile just for him, Bree Dunbar was without a doubt the most beautiful girl in the entire world. Brave, too. Far braver than him. Of course she always had been. After all, she was the first to ride a bicycle without training wheels. The first to jump off the end of the Second Avenue Pier into the deep and murky waters below.

  The first to slowly pull one skinny pink string securing her bikini top.

  With that little bit of encouragement, he pulled the remaining strings while guiding her down the hall and into his bedroom. The pink fabric fell away, revealing all of her beauty. Until this moment, everything between them had remained so very innocent. Stolen kisses. Soft caresses. Brief touches of skin still hidden from view beneath clothing. But this time she bared herself completely to him, and breathing became impossible. He tumbled her onto the bed, his hands touching, his mouth tasting every inch of skin within reach. Her fingertips threaded through his hair, her blunt nails scored his back. Her long, willowy legs first twined with his then wrapped around his body. She encouraged every motion with a soft sigh or whisper of his name.

  Silently he prayed to God that the condom wouldn’t break as he rolled it on and asked her one last time if she was certain. Bree answered by pulling him closer, kissing him deeply, encouraging him to rest his weight upon her waif-like body. He remembered the hint of uncertainty in her eyes in contrast to the smile on her face since they both knew there likely would be pain on her part.

  They fumbled their way through that first time, as short-lived as it was. When all was said and done, what amazed him most, she invited him to return to her body again and again and again.

  Chapter Eight

  THE LOVESEAT WAS too short, too narrow, and lumpy as all get-out. To say he’d slept like shit would be an understatement. Of course the late-night stroll down memory lane hadn’t helped things, giving him the mother of all hard-ons. Then, as he slipped his boxer briefs from his hips, preparing to take matters into his own hand, one hell of a fucked-up thought popped into his head. Which segued into the next sleepless hour as he debated whether or not he was some kind of sick perverted freak for getting hard at the memory of a sixteen-year-old girl.

  So he spent most of the night moving from the loveseat to the recliner and back again, never getting comfortable. Around 0300 he seriously considered reneging on his agreement with Bree and relocating to his bed. Lord knew she didn’t need all that space. Danny made it as far as the bedroom door, took one look at the situation, and stormed back to his recliner in disgust.

  The damn woman didn’t even know how to make the most of a bed like that. His big, comfy bed was going completely to waste. Bree was curled up on her side, sleeping on the far edge of the bed with the covers still neatly tucked in place. At the very least he wanted to drag her to the center of it, spread her arms and legs out like a starfish, and draw all the blankets into the middle and twist them around her body.

  When did she become such a polite sleeper? Did she no longer know how to hog blankets?

  At 0530, Danny rolled off the couch and tried to straighten the kink in his spine. After quietly changing clothes and lacing up his running shoes, he scribbled a note for Bree then headed out the door and into the darkness.

  Still fuming about Bree’s poor sleeping habits, his irritation powered him through the first five miles. Then as the sky began to lighten and the world began to wake, his thoughts transitioned to work. All the paperwork he’d have to file, the changes in benefits and such.

  While Mike couldn’t wait to see how things went down with his Ranger buddies, Danny was more concerned about how the hell he was going to explain his sudden marriage to his superiors. One thing was certain—there would be questions. Lots of questions.

  They all knew him well enough to know he’d never planned to marry. Especially since he was that guy in his company. The one with the reputation. The one they’d all tell stories about for years to come. The one who rarely spent more than one night with the same woman, let alone a full week. He was that guy mothers warned their daughters about. That same guy commanding officers threatened with finishing out his military career in the fucking Antarctic if he so much as looked in the direction of their virginal daughters.

  And if by some miracle his superiors had been zapped by that memory-erasing light Tommy Lee Jones used in Men in Black and had forgotten all about his reputation, his asshole friends would be oh so happy to remind them.

  Then there was the fact he actually married a woman whom he didn’t intend to have sex with and, in an attempt to be a better man, his dumb ass agreed to not have sex with anyone. Fucking brilliant on his part. If the guys ever learned the whole story of their arrangement, he’d be better off cutting his own parachute cord during the next practice jump.

  Either way, it was time to pay the piper.

  Not that he regretted marrying Bree one bit. If given the option to do it all again, he still would. No way did she deserve the hand life had dealt her. Not to mention he felt like he put all that bad mojo into motion by his leaving her, even though it had been the right decision for his life.

  As the sun rose and the temperature warmed, his newest accessory made its presence known as he continued to run. The metal band constricted the blood flow, making his finger pulse. Danny turned the ring with his thumb on the same hand, unable to stop himself from smiling at the memory of their courthouse wedding.

  Danny slid his mother’s ring onto Bree’s finger then pulled from his pocket the ring she bought for him on their way to the courthouse and handed it to her. At first she stood there frozen, staring at the plain gold band she held with both hands. He held his breath, fully expecting her to turn tail and run. Only when the judge prompted her a second time did she look up at Danny. Her hands shook with nervousness and she dropped the ring, the two of them watching it fall in slow motion to the floor only to see it bounce once, then twice, and roll across the hard marble floor, coming to rest under a large wooden desk on the far side of the room. Dutifully, he went after it, ending up on hands and knees to fish it out from where it rested against the baseboard. As he rose to his feet and dusted off the knees of his pants, Bree covered her mouth. While she stifled the giggle, the smile showed in her eyes. The spark of it. And he knew from that moment on, life for Bree would only get better.

  THOSE FIRST FEW moments after she woke, Bree was confused by her surroundings. Then it all came back to her. The exchange of rings. The vows. The apartment in Savannah. Although she was now a married woman, she’d spent her wedding night sleeping all alone in a king-size bed.

  Still in her pajamas and stocking feet, Bree pulled on her wig and padded out to the kitchen. On the counter she found a note scribbled on a restaurant napkin. Out for a run.

  Most mornings she arrived downstairs to find her mother had made a huge breakfast. And more often than not, if she wasn’t feeling nauseated from the chemo, ate whatever was made so as not to offend her mother. But there were plenty of mornings when she looked at the fresh-baked muffins and eggs and bacon and thought she’d love nothing more than a slice of cold pizza. It was the little freedoms like that she missed. Not that her mother would have stopped her from eating what she wanted, but in the end the guilt she would’ve endured wasn’t worth the price of admission.

  Bree shuffled across the cold ceramic tile floor to the refrigerator only to learn Danny wasn’t kidding when he said there wasn’t anything in the place to eat. She would’ve sworn there was some Kung Pao left over, but no containers were to be found
now. That left her with Red Bull, Tabasco, a bottle of yellow mustard, and jar of bread-and-butter pickles. Sliced.

  Her gaze drifted to the pink pastry box.

  There’s always cake.

  Bree closed the refrigerator door and opened the freezer. Even less in there. In the cabinets she found coffee, boxes of protein bars, steel-cut oats, and an open bag of sunflower seeds. Um, no.

  Her stomach grumbled. It knew there was cake in the immediate vicinity and would not be denied.

  Bree took the pink box from the refrigerator and a plastic fork from the drawer. The first bite was heaven, just as she remembered. The second, even better. The third bite to reaffirm her earlier evaluation was correct. The fourth because, “Damn, that’s good.” And the pink fondant rose met its fate for simply being in the way of bite five.

  Oh, hell.

  She’d made a mess of the pretty cake. If Danny got a look at it he’d know in an instant she’d been in it. Time for a new strategy. Just a few more bites to even it out.

  Without warning the front door opened wide and in walked Danny, hot and sweaty and absolutely breathtaking. The gray T-shirt he wore stretched tautly across his shoulders and chest, the fabric darkened with sweat and clinging to his form like a second skin.

  He sure didn’t look like this ten years ago.

  She shoved the largest chunk of Italian Créme yet past her lips, if only to keep herself from drooling.

  “Good morning,” he said with a smile, wide and bright. “And here I was worried about there not being anything to eat and hurried back to take you out for breakfast. We can do that if you’re still hungry.”

  She narrowed her eyes at him, carefully licking the crumbs from her lips after she finished off her mouthful of cake. “That was just a snack,” she muttered, closing the pastry box.

  “Okay, then.” Danny chuckled. “Just give me a few minutes to hop in the shower and we’ll go.”

  AFTER A LEISURELY breakfast, Danny gave Bree the nickel tour of Savannah, beginning with Hunter Army Airfield where he and Michael were stationed. From there they headed downtown, past the historic squares and brick-paved streets until they reached the river. As the tourists began to emerge from their hotels and the traffic picked up, he changed gears and headed for the shopping center near home.

  They weren’t in any rush and the store was empty for the most part, so he and Bree took their time shopping, going up and down each aisle. Until they turned into one aisle where it appeared two rowdy boys were arguing over boxes of cereal.

  Oh, shit. He recognized those two kids.

  “Anything you want down this aisle?” he asked.

  Bree wrinkled up her nose. “Not a big fan of cereal.”

  Worked for him. He made a U-turn with the cart to go back the way they came when suddenly another cart was blocking their exit. And his best friend was pushing it.

  Fuck.

  So much for telling people in his own time.

  “And here I was wondering if you were back from your dad’s yet.” The smug look on Ben’s face was as if he’d just caught Danny with his hand in the cookie jar.

  “Got back just last night.”

  “Have a good trip?”

  Asshole. He was looking at Bree like she was a late-night hookup that ran over until morning. No point in beating around the bush; he only hoped Bree was ready for this. Feeling more than a little protective, he took a step closer toward her, taking her left hand in his. Ben noticed and raised a brow in interest.

  “Bree, this ugly guy here,” punctuating it with a slap to Ben’s chest, “is Ben Wojciechowski. Everyone calls him Soup. He and I’ve been in regiment together from the get-go. Ben, this is Bree Dunbar. MacGregor. My wife.”

  The smirk disappeared as Ben’s face turned serious. “I’m sorry. Did I hear that right? Did you say wife?”

  “I did. We got married yesterday morning.”

  “Wow.” Ben took a moment to compose himself then extended a hand to Bree. “It’s very nice to meet you,” he said with complete sincerity. Then quickly added, “And only the a-holes in regiment call me Soup. Please, call me Ben.” Then he turned to face Danny, clapping his shoulder. “Congratulations, man! Clearly, your vacation was far more interesting than mine. All I’ve been doing for the past two weeks is peeling off a hundred years’ worth of wallpaper and working on the boys’ jump shots.”

  “Basketball?” Danny asked. “I thought they were doing wrestling.”

  “Ah, yes. The nice thing about basketball is it requires a ball and a hoop. Which makes that an outside sport in our house. Unlike wrestling, which can be done anywhere. Speaking of which—” Ben’s attention shifted to behind them. Danny and Bree turned to see those two little hell-raisers scrabbling on the ground, a twist of skinny arms and legs as boxes of cereal lay in carnage on the floor surrounding them.

  “Jesus Christ, guys! Come on! Just pick one so we can get the hell out of here.”

  Bree stifled a giggle. “They’re yours?” she asked.

  “Afraid so,” Ben said with a laugh. “Which reminds me, I’m supposed to buy a bottle of wine for the wife.”

  “Better make it two,” Danny added.

  “It was nice meeting you,” Ben said, pushing his shopping cart past them. “Hope to see you again soon.”

  Bree smiled. “Same here.”

  Ben gathered the boys, threw two kinds of cereal in the cart then gave a quick wave before disappearing around the corner at the opposite end.

  Her eyes met Danny’s and she shook her head in amazement. “Wow. I’m worn out from just watching them.”

  “I know, right?” He chuckled. “And that was good behavior for them. You should see those little terrors when they’re really going at it.”

  “No, thanks.”

  They headed back the way they came, Danny pushing the cart past refrigerated cases as Bree walked alongside him.

  “Why do they call him Soup?”

  He stopped and looked at her, a bit taken by surprise. Calling Ben by his nickname had become such a habit he’d never thought it might be considered odd by others. “When we were in RIP together . . .” Bree crinkled her brow in confusion and he suddenly remembered she didn’t know army lingo. “The Ranger Indoctrination Program,” he explained. “Basically, it was a month of hell to get into regiment. Anyhow, one of the instructors looked at his name and said ‘Your name has more fucking letters than my bowl of alphabet soup.’ ” Danny shrugged. “It stuck.”

  Instead of a slight chuckle or polite giggle, she laughed right out loud, the sound music to his ears.

  “You guys are weird.”

  He smiled back at her, unable to argue the point. Truth be told, she didn’t know the half of it. And if the day did come she found out about all the crazy shit they’d done over the past decade, she might very well want that divorce sooner rather than later.

  WHILE DANNY RETRIEVED the last few grocery bags from the car, Bree began putting things away. When his phone chimed the first time, she realized he’d left it sitting on the breakfast bar. Before she turned back around to finish what she was doing, it chimed a second time. Then a third. Clearly, someone was trying to get his attention. For the briefest of moments she considered taking a peek at his screen, but quickly reminded herself that would be an invasion of his privacy.

  “Your phone is going crazy,” she blurted out the moment he walked in the door.

  Danny placed the last few bags on the kitchen counter. “Who is it?”

  Was that a test? To see how jealous a wife she’d be? “I don’t know. I didn’t look.” Although she was telling the truth, she couldn’t help but sound guilty to her own ears.

  “I’ve got nothing to hide, Bree. Mi casa es tu casa.” He grabbed the phone and smiled to himself as he scrolled through the messages on his phone. “Well, that didn’t take long. L
ooks like Marie knows.”

  “Marie?” Just as she’d feared. Her stomach twisted at the thought of an ex-girlfriend, ex-lover, whatever she might be, text messaging him the moment she found out he married.

  “Ben’s wife,” he answered and the knot in her stomach loosened a bit. “And it would seem she’s angry she found out about our marriage after the fact.” He looked up from the small screen to meet her eyes. “Which is really just code for ‘she’s pissed Ben found out before her.’ ” He typed a quick reply. “I wonder how long it will take for everyone else to find out.”

  “Really?”

  “News, good or bad, travels like wildfire on a military post. Sadly, sometimes the guy it directly involves is the last one to find out.”

  “That’s terrible.”

  “Tell me about it. I probably should have forewarned you that people will be all up in your business if you let them. Just be sure to establish clear boundaries right from the start. If you share too much too soon, they’ll come to expect it.” His phone chimed once again. “She wants us to come over for dinner tonight.”

  To be honest, she hadn’t considered this aspect of their marriage. That Danny would have longtime friends here who cared for him. Which meant this dinner would be an interrogation of sorts. To see if she was worthy of him.

  “You’ve got that look on your face.”

  “What look? I don’t have a look.”

  “The hell you do. You look like a deer in headlights. There’s nothing to worry about. And to be completely honest, I’d feel a lot better if there was someone else in town you could call if I’m away for training or you can’t get ahold of me.”

  “Then I’ll just call Michael.”