“What, no high pressure to sign now?” I tease, and Beanie laughs.
“Nah. You've got a while left still. Six months from now, I might be pushing more, but hey, the earlier you sign, the earlier we can throw you a keg party,” Beanie says.
“I thought we're in the new Army, where we don't fuel everything by beer?” I ask, mock shocked.
“We'll party responsibly. Sergeant Washington, in Alpha Company, can't drink alcohol at all. He can be the designated driver. Stuff like that,” Beanie says, gathering his papers. “Here, keep these. I'll get you that packet I was talking about for when you and the CO are done. I have the websites saved. You leaning one way or another?”
I shake my head, gathering up the papers. “Not yet. I've got to think hard about this, Beanie. You know that. But thanks for the information.”
“No worries,” he says, standing up. “If you need any more help, gimme a ring. I know I'm the re-enlistment NCO, but I'm not totally biased.”
I leave Beanie's office and knock on the CO's door, where he has me wait a moment while he finishes up a phone call and waves me in. “Have a seat, Morgan.”
“Sure, sir. Beanie said that you wanted to talk with me about something?”
Captain Lemmon nods, then gets up and closes his office door. “Sorry. This is highly unofficial. I just wanted to give you a chance to explain something that Top saw this weekend. He brought it to me, and I felt like I should be the one to ask about it.”
“What's that, sir?” I ask, confused. “You sound pretty grim about it.”
“Sorry, I just wanted to talk with you before someone else gets involved,” Captain Lemmon says. “Basically, Top was doing a drive through of the housing area Saturday night with the guys on patrol. He went by your place, and he saw an officer's car parked out at the curb. He brought it to me after he ran the post tag, mainly because I was a little surprised at who it was.”
“Lieutenant Simpson?” I ask, trying to control the stab of fear that goes through me. “Oh yeah, he mentioned that you two were in the same company at West Point.”
“Yes, he was two years behind me. Now, I'm not saying you did anything wrong, Morgan, but what was he doing at your house that late on a Saturday night?”
At least I have a good reason for it, and I lean back, smiling. “Sir, I pulled weekend duty Saturday, remember? Aaron signed up through his battalion for their Big Brothers & Sisters program, and he agreed to watch Lance on Saturday. The fight in the barracks delayed my getting home. Aaron stayed late to make sure that Lance was put to bed properly, and then he let me vent about my frustrations for the day, that's it. Nothing inappropriate happened.”
Captain Lemmon hums, then nods. “Okay. I'll talk to him face to face on it, just to confirm. I'm a little pissed that someone at the battalion level, his or ours, didn't notify me that you had signed up for it, but that's not on you. Can I give you a bit of warning though, Sergeant Morgan?”
“Go ahead, sir.”
Captain Lemmon sips his coffee and sets the cup down, taking a deep breath. “I try to treat the work of every soldier professionally, evaluating you on the merits of your work alone. But I'm not blind. You're an attractive single woman, Lindsey. And Lieutenant Simpson is a single guy. I'm not saying that you two were fraternizing on Saturday, and I'll make sure that Top knows what happened so that any rumors can be squashed, but I can't promise that people won't talk. I know you need help with Lance, and I'll be honest, Aaron's one of those guys that I would put first in line for being a good role model. Just be aware that you might need to be loud and proud about the setup, and still . . . just be careful, got it?”
“Roger that, sir. And thanks for the heads up. Can I ask you a question, sir?”
“Sure, go ahead,” Captain Lemmon says, scribbling down a note. Knowing him, he's making sure that he has my info right for talking to Aaron.
“What was Lieutenant Simpson like as a cadet?”
Captain Lemmon laughs and sets his pen down. “He was a total spaz as a plebe, but most plebes are. Got pretty squared away by the end of his second year. By the way, when you talk about him . . . make sure he's Lieutenant Simpson anytime you're on duty. You called him Aaron twice. I understand off duty, as part of the program, we set the uniform aside, and I think of him as Aaron too. But it'd help if you make sure that to anyone else, he's Lieutenant Simpson.”
“Understood, sir. And thank you for your understanding.”
Watching Lance snuggle down with his favorite stuffed animal, I make sure he's sleeping peacefully before I head out to the living room, sitting down. Now that I've got a few moments of peace and quiet, I have the chance to actually think about what Captain Lemmon said.
The fact is, I liked that twenty minutes or so just hanging out with Aaron. And I didn't just like it because I was tired and appreciated the tea, or as a way to thank him for watching Lance for the extra time with no complaints.
But when I think of last Saturday, the memory of his thumb on my cheek is powerful, and the fact is that I haven't called him yet this week because I wanted to make sure that I'm clear on why I'm calling him. Am I calling for Lance? Or for me?
I guess it doesn't really matter, though. Aaron knows that, I think, which is why I reach for my phone and dial. To hell with it. Lance needs time with him. “Hello?”
“Aaron? It's Lindsey. How's it going?”
Aaron's voice in my ear helps me relax more than anything I've tried today, and in that instant, I know that I have to spend time with him too. Friend, lover, whatever . . . I need him. “Hey, Lindsey. This is the second time I've heard your name this evening.”
“Ah, Captain Lemmon called you?” I ask, smiling. “I thought so. He talked to me in his office, off the record.”
“That's Pete. He always prefers doing things person to person, if he can. Called me on my cellphone about an hour ago, just after I got home. We'd swapped numbers when we ran into each other at the O Club, just kinda networking at the time. He asked me about the Big Brother program and confirmed that I was there taking care of Lance. Actually, it was helpful that I did get called away. It gave me a clear time when I left. Did you hear?”
“About your soldier who got busted in the bowling alley? Yeah, that was on the blotter,” I tell him. “When I saw Delta, I cringed for a moment, hoping it wasn't one of yours.”
“Mighty Regulator, that one,” Aaron says, laughing for a moment. “So . . . what's up?”
“I'm calling to ask if you're free this Saturday.”
“You sure about that?” Aaron asks, surprised.
“Yes, I’m sure, and after the way that Lance went on about your day together, I wouldn't want it any other way,” I answer, lying to myself even as I say it. Sure, I want Lance to see him, but I want to see him too. “What do you say?”
“Of course,” Aaron says, and I can hear him smiling. “What do you have in mind?”
“Well, I seem to remember that you and I used to enjoy biking together a lot,” I say, smiling. “While I don't have the bike shorts anymore, and my bike's built to carry Lance around as much as it is to ride, what about the three of us meeting up at your house and going for a ride? You can't keep dropping a hundred dollars every time you spend time with Lance, you know.”
“Oh, I can't?” Aaron says, chuckling. “Isn't that why I make the big bucks? To spoil my . . . sorry, to spoil Lance?”
“I do love that you two are getting along.” I pause for a second before continuing. “Okay. I'll bring my bike. We can have a date on Saturday.” It's only after I say it that I realize what I just said, and I feel heat creep up my neck. “I mean, a play date.”
“Right. What time, say . . . three or four? I don't know how long you like to ride anymore.”
“Four is better,” I tell him. “I'll get Lance up from his nap, if he'll go down at all, knowing he's coming to see you. We can ride for an hour, then maybe dinner?”
“I can't promise fresh grilled burgers, but it sounds li
ke a plan.”
I laugh and shake my head. “Nope, I'm bringing dinner. It'll keep in your kitchen while we ride. How's that sound?”
“Sounds like a great afternoon. I'll poke around and see if I can find some decent bike routes in my neighborhood, nothing too hard. I'll see you Saturday. Good night, Lindsey.”
“Good night, Aaron.” I hang up the phone, smiling. I wonder, is it time? Aaron certainly likes Lance, and Lance likes Aaron a lot too. Am I rushing things, considering they've only hung out together twice? But, for three years now, Lance hasn't known who his father is, and I know he's starting to notice. It's not a big thing right now, but back in June, when the kids at daycare all made Father's Day cards, Lance was the only one who couldn't. He still made me a card, but I could tell he was thinking about it.
But if the Army finds out that I got pregnant from a man who’s now an officer, we might as well stand side by side in the middle of a machine gun live fire. It'd do the same thing to our careers. But still, it's not fair to Lance, and it's not fair to Aaron either.
Chapter 15
Aaron
I'm just finishing up lubricating my pedals when Lindsey's RAV4 pulls into my driveway and I see her wave. There's a surge of motion in the back seat, Lance, obviously, even if I can't see him clearly because of the tinting. I can see a bike on the back of the vehicle, and while it's not the standard 'Mom with Kid Special' that I've seen some parents riding around with, it's certainly a step down from her custom-fitted Specialized she used to roll on.
“Hey, guys!” I call out. I haven't had a good ride in a few weeks, and this is going to be fun. “You're a bit early.”
“Hi, Aaron!” Lance calls as Lindsey sets him down, running around the front of her vehicle and rushing over. He stops, and I can see that he wants a hug, but he isn't sure if it’s okay.
“Come here, buddy,” I reassure him, holding my arms open. He laughs and jumps in my arms, knocking me on my ass and making me laugh, and we roll around in the grass.
I see a flash of red in the corner of my eye, and I turn my head. I'm stunned, left breathless seeing Lindsey standing there. She's not dressed for hard biking, that's for sure. Instead, she's wearing a pretty red smock-like top that is kind of tight around her shoulders and breasts before flowing out like a dress to about her mid-thigh, too short to be a real skirt but still mostly covering the shorts she has on underneath. I can just barely see the white hem of her shorts.
“Hey, Aaron,” Lindsey greets me, tucking a stray bit of hair behind her ear. She's letting it flow today, and while she's not wearing any makeup, she’s never needed it. Her lips are looking moist and inviting, even more than I remember.
Fuck, I'm popping wood, and I haven't even said anything. I stay down on the ground, pulling my knees up to allow my cock to stay hidden inside my shorts, and instead, I smile. “How was your morning?”
“Good,” Lindsey says, squatting down and taking a seat next to me on the grass.
Her presence is like a burning heat near my body. “So what ever happened to your old Honda?”
“I got rid of it when Lance was two,” Lindsey says, looking over at her SUV. “I got tired of fighting his car seat in and out of the back, and when he got big enough that he needed to sit up and have a real seat, I just said I’d had enough. So, I traded it in. I didn't get much for it, as you can guess, and I picked that up.”
“And the bike? Don't tell me you totally got rid of that Specialized that you used to ride.”
Lindsey nods sadly, then shrugs. “When I got to Lewis and realized what was going on, I knew it was going to be a long time before I got a chance to ride like that bike deserved again, so I sold it to a reservist who was into bikes. When she offered me six hundred for it, I jumped at it. What about you?”
I'm in control of myself now, at least enough that I'm able to get up without embarrassing myself, and I brush off my shorts, offering Lindsey a hand to get up. When our fingers touch, it feels like old times, and I can see it in her eyes too, but we don't say anything about it. “Take a look. It’s a lot like your old one.”
Lindsey squats down, and I have to stop myself from staring at her legs. They’re luscious, and I want nothing more than to run my hands up them like I used to. My cock gives a warning twinge, and I remind myself that no matter what, I'm going to have to ride where I can't see her ass. Now is definitely not the time for this to be happening. “Looks good. And it looks like it’s helped keep you in tip-top shape.”
The look in Lindsey's eyes does nothing to calm the growing hunger inside me as she gives me a little half-smile. She opens her mouth to say something when Lance speaks up. “Come on, let's ride!”
“So Lance, what’d your Mommy bring for dinner?” I ask as we put up our bikes. “What, is it a surprise?”
He grins and nods. I give Lindsey a glance, and she just gives me a smile. “You two just relax and let me handle the food,” she says.
“Okay. But if you need help, just ask. My kitchen, well, you know where most everything important is.”
Lindsey holds something wrapped in a towel that looks somewhat heavy, and we go inside, where Lance already has his book out for me. We sit on my couch, and I tell him the age-old story of the engine that could while Lindsey puts together plates of whatever, bringing out three bowls of what I take at first to be lasagna. “Didn't know you knew Italian food.”
“Oh, my grandmother would beat you for that!” Lindsey says with a laugh. “It’s Greek.”
“Good to know. What is this, then?”
“Moussaka,” Lindsey says. “Looks a lot like lasagna, but it’s a little different. Enjoy.”
We dig in, and it's delicious, rich, and just a little spicy, but lighter than a lasagna. Lance keeps grinning as he eats, and as soon as his bowl is finished, he doesn’t waste any time. “Can I watch TV now?”
“Sure, buddy, but only if Mommy says you can. Want to use my green blanket to lie on?”
Lance nods and waits while I fold it into thirds and lay it on the floor for him to use as a cushion. Within fifteen minutes, his head is drooping, and just as my kitchen clock beeps eight o'clock, he's snoring on my green girl, his head nestled in his arms. “Is he going to be okay?”
Lindsey nods, smiling wistfully at her son. “He's fine. He loves sleeping on his stomach, and if he doesn't need to pee, he'll be good like that all night.”
“Good,” I say softly. “He's had a busy day. Let him sleep.”
Lindsey nods and turns to me, laying an arm over the couch so that we're nearly touching hands. “Every day you've spent with him has been amazing.”
I nod and reach out, closing the distance between our hands and touching her fingers. She doesn't pull away, but she smiles instead. “This was the best Saturday I've had in years.”
“Me too,” she says. “Aaron, last time . . . well, never mind. I've been thinking, and I'm not saying we can do this right away, but I've been thinking about telling Lance about his father.”
I nod but don't smile. “So you want Lance to know . . . what, that I'm his father? That we used to see each other?”
Lindsey nods, but I see the indecision in her eyes. “Aaron, what else can I tell Lance? That you and I—”
I lean forward, cutting off her words. My lips crash against hers, and she doesn't resist at all. In that moment, I know for certain that rules be damned, I have to have her in my life. She's too important to me. My lips find her neck, pulling her close, her body against mine the way I've dreamed for too long, for so many lonely nights. When I reach her ear, I kiss her earlobe like I used to, and she moans lightly in my ear. “I’ve had too many empty, sleepless nights. I've missed you. I don't care about rank. I don't care about the rules anymore. I want to be more than just Lance's father.”
Chapter 16
Lindsey
Aaron's looking into my eyes, and I'm still breathless from the kiss we just shared. My heart's racing, and more than anything, my body is crying out. His kis
s was water in the desert, and when he looks at me, I know exactly what to do.
I stand up, leading Aaron toward the back of his house. We reach his bedroom, and I close the door behind us, turning to him and putting my arms around his neck. “Four years . . .”
He nods, kissing me again, and the years evaporate in the heat of his hands on my body and the feel of his lips on mine again. We stand there, kissing and reacquainting ourselves with our bodies, for what feels like an hour, just moving slowly and dancing to invisible music that only we can hear. His hands run up and down my back, and when he lifts the hem of my smock, I'm more than ready for it, lifting my arms above my head and letting him pull it off. He looks stunned, seeing me in just my bra and shorts, and I feel the spinning in my mind settle just a little, the warmth still in my belly. I still want him, I still need this, but I don't need to lose my mind over it . . . yet.
“Like what you see?” I tease, lifting my breasts. “Little bigger than last time. Everything is, actually.”
“Everything is perfect,” Aaron replies, pulling his shirt up. He drops it to the floor, and it's my turn to go dry mouthed as he stands in front of me in just his shorts. He's not as lithe as he was before, and all of that extra weight has gone into muscle on his upper body, along with something that he didn't have four years ago. I reach up and trace the design on his chest across all the ripples in muscle. Another time, I’d love to trace it with my tongue, but not right now. I need something else.
I literally leap into his arms, wrapping my legs around his waist. I expect that he's going to take me to the bed, but instead, he pushes me against the wall, effortlessly pinning me there while we kiss and grind against each other. His cock is straining at his shorts, rubbing between my legs and sending tingles from my clit throughout my body.
Duty: A Secret Baby Romance Page 14
