Hitting the Silk: A Career Soldier Military Romance

by Tawdra Kandle

  “I guess it just never came up, because you were never trying to strong-arm me into hooking up with someone before now.” I slumped in my chair. “You’ll tell him not to use my number, right? You’ll explain? I really don’t feel like going through all of this again, and I don’t want to hurt his feelings, either.”

  “I’ll mention it.” Sandra tilted her head, studying me. “But I can’t make any promises about Shaw. He can be pretty stubborn.”

  * * *

  She wasn’t wrong.

  I’d just gotten home and collapsed onto my bed when my phone began to buzz. Groaning, I reached over and checked out the screen.

  Shaw: Hi, Delia Rollins. This is Shaw Kincaid. Sandra gave me your number. Please don’t be mad at her, because I basically begged it out of her.

  I took a few minutes to bury my face in my pillow and scream out some frustration before I composed my response. I ended up typing several lines and then deleting them before I finally decided on a short and enigmatic reply.

  Delia: I’m not mad at Sandra.

  Shaw: Cool. Did you have time to think about my question? Do you want to grab some coffee with me some time? Say . . . tomorrow night?

  I bit my lip. If this were any other man texting to ask me out on a date, I’d be sensitive about not hurting his feelings or coming off the wrong way. But I’d gotten the distinct feeling today that it would take a lot to dent the ego of Shaw Kincaid.

  Delia: Sorry, my answer is the same. Thank you for being so nice, but I can’t.

  Shaw: You mean you won’t. ‘Can’t’ implies that you aren’t physically able.

  Delia: All right, then, I won’t.

  Shaw: Is this because of my disability? Is that why you won’t go out with me?

  My mouth dropped open. Oh, my God, he had a disability? I wracked my brain, trying to figure out what I might have missed earlier. Sandra hadn’t mentioned anything, but maybe she hadn’t wanted to make me feel bad.

  I decided to play it cool and indignant, as if I knew exactly what he was talking about.

  Delia: Of course not. Why would you even think such a thing?

  Shaw: Some people might. Some people only see . . . that.

  Holy shit, what was it? What hadn’t I seen? I considered calling Sandra real fast and begging her to fill me in, but I was mortified to admit that I might’ve been too preoccupied with fending off Shaw’s advances to see something right in front of my face.

  Delia: I’m not like that. This isn’t about you, it’s about me. I promise.

  Shaw: Are you being truthful with me?

  Delia: Are you saying I’m not?

  Shaw: Give me a yes or no to this question: are you turning me down because I’m in the Army?

  Too late, I realized I’d been cornered. Shit.

  Delia: Sandra told you, didn’t she?

  Shaw: She might’ve mentioned something. Is that true or not?

  Delia: Okay, yes. It’s true.

  Shaw: So basically, you won’t go out with me because of my disability.

  Delia: Your disability is that you’re in the Army? That’s kind of a stretch, bud.

  Shaw: That’s one way of looking at it. But it’s disabling me from getting you to say yes.

  Delia: Wow. Did I say stretch? It’s actually ridiculous.

  Shaw: Maybe from your POV. But you’re discriminating against me because of my career.

  Delia: No, I’m choosing not to go out with you because of that. You’re not losing out on anything valuable.

  Shaw: Beg to differ.

  Delia: I guess we’ll have to agree to disagree.

  Shaw: Could we go out for coffee and discuss it?

  Delia: You are relentless, aren’t you?

  Shaw: Is that a yes?

  Delia: Sorry. It’s a no. And I’ve got to go now, so I’ll ask you to accept it gracefully and move on.

  I sat there for a few minutes, staring at the phone, waiting to see if Shaw would reply. When he didn’t, I told myself that I was relieved and not at all disappointed. This was what I’d wanted, wasn’t it? I wanted peace, without the complications that things like passion and attraction brought with them. Since Dane had been killed, I’d worked hard to keep my life even, predictable and calm. It was important and necessary for my emotional well-being.

  The minute that Shaw Kincaid had closed his humongous hand over mine this afternoon outside the cafeteria, I’d known that he was the very opposite of calm and peace. The zing of instant attraction I’d felt had shaken me to the core—the core that was both melting and throbbing at the same time. I hadn’t been that drawn to any man since my husband had died.

  But it had been the additional appeal of his personality that had set off warning lights and whistles. The guy was funny, interesting, kind and good with kids. He’d shown the same interested attention to the three kids at our table that he had to the adults. He’d been polite and respectful, and he’d exhibited true humility in the face of the appreciation the other parents and grandparents had shown for his military service.

  All in all, there wasn’t a doubt in my mind that Shaw Kincaid was the kind of man any woman would be lucky to date. My mom would have called him a real catch. Even when he’d gently probed about my marital status, I had realized that he hadn’t meant to be intrusive, and his apology later had been sincere.

  Any female in her right mind would’ve jumped at the chance to go out with him, which was probably why I’d let myself get so carried away, flirting as much as I had. When he’d teased me about liking Captain America, I hadn’t even considered not teasing right back. Our chatting had been easy and natural . . . until he’d almost touched me and begun asking more personal questions, like my first name and my phone number. Suddenly, the reality of the situation had hit me like a ton of bricks, and I’d had to back-peddle fast.

  It wasn’t that I planned to live the rest of my life alone. I was only twenty-seven, and although I had some friends locally as well as my family back in New Jersey, no one could call me a social butterfly. I spent most of my time working, either in the classroom or at home doing prep. In the summer, I taught summer session or took tutoring jobs. I cooked my own meals, which I enjoyed doing, but outside of that, I didn’t have any hobbies.

  It seemed like a lifetime ago that the world had been laid out before me. Dane and I had had big plans: we’d enjoy the ability to travel and see new places that life in the Army would offer us, and then after he’d fulfilled his service obligation from college, he’d take the honorable discharge and we’d settle in civilian life and start our family.

  None of those plans had ever come to anything at all. We’d had six months at officer basic in Georgia before Dane had been assigned to Fort Lee prior to his unit being deployed. Since there was no housing available on post, we’d rented a sweet little house in Petersburg. I’d decided to put my teaching degree to use and taken a job at the elementary school in town, since I’d have to do something while he was away. I’d never expected that five years later, I’d still be there, by now a veteran and tenured staff member.

  My life had been on hold, in limbo, since that horrible June day when the official vehicle had pulled up in front of our house, and two men had come to the door. I’d known before I’d answered. All the spouses had gone through a deployment readiness training before our husbands and wives had left, and I knew the protocol. For a wild moment, I’d considered not answering the door and slipping out the back way, some addled part of my brain reasoning that if they didn’t officially inform me, it wasn’t true.

  But reason had taken over, and I’d opened the door and stood there, unspeaking and staring as the older man had delivered his spiel: “I have been asked to inform you that your husband has been reported dead in Kandahar, Afghanistan after a skirmish involving small arms fire. On behalf of the Secretary of Defense, I extend to you and your family my deepest sympathy in your great loss.”

  I’d nodded, and instinct had kicked in. I’d invited the men inside,
offered them coffee or iced tea. They’d declined, kindly, and after a few moments, one had asked me if there was any family member or friend they could contact for me. There hadn’t been, because my family and Dane’s were both up in New Jersey, and I hadn’t made any close connections here yet. For some reason, the name of the school’s guidance counselor popped into my mind, and I’d called her, asking if she’d sit with me, because I knew that the soldiers informing me couldn’t leave until I had someone else present.

  After the military men had departed, I’d told the guidance counselor that she could take off, too. But she hadn’t. She’d stayed with me all the rest of the afternoon, through the arduous and grueling process of talking with the casualty assistance officer, and through the night, until my parents had arrived early the next morning. She’d galvanized the entire faculty to visit over the following weeks, bringing food, helping me through the planning process and simply being present with me during the worst days of my young life.

  Later, when I’d had to make a decision about whether to move away from Petersburg, my family had assumed that I’d return to New Jersey. But I didn’t have anything up there anymore, except my memories of Dane, and when I thought about the support my school family had offered, I’d decided to stay put, at least for the time being. That had been nearly four years ago.

  Of course, being right outside the post, avoiding reminders of the Army had been damn near impossible. But I’d grown used to it, or perhaps I’d become numb. Even seeing men in uniform didn’t jolt me as it did in the beginning.

  But that didn’t mean that I was anywhere near ready to tempt fate by getting mixed up with another soldier. I’d lived through the grief, the pain and heartbreak once; I’d survived the loss. I wasn’t sure that a second time wouldn’t destroy what was left of my splintered heart.

  Chapter Three

  Shaw

  One of my favorite parts of being in the Army was something many of my fellow soldiers hated. Our daily physical training got me up and moving every day, and I loved both the calisthenics and the run, particularly when Lieutenant Larson, who was one of my own guys, was leading us. He always came up with the greatest cadences, some that he found on-line and others that he actually made up himself.

  Today, he’d opted for an old classic, and I had to say that I approved.

  Around her hair she wore a yellow ribbon

  She wore it in the spring time, in the early month of May

  And if you asked her why the heck she wore it

  She’d say she wore it for her soldier who was far, far away

  Far away

  Far away

  I ran along, my feet hitting the pavement in time with the guys around me, our breath regulated by the chant. This was my happy place, where I felt most at home and the most connected with my soldiers and my fellow commanders. I could’ve kept it up for another five miles, but since not everyone agreed with me, we eventually came to a stop outside the barracks.

  “My God, I think I’m going to die.” Kade Braggs, one of my buddies, staggered backward a little, hands on his hips. “Seriously. Cardiac arrest right here and now.”

  Jake Robinson, another of the company commanders, smirked and pounded Kade on the back. “Awww, poor Braggs. You feeling a little peaked, buddy? Not getting enough sleep at night?”

  Kade flipped him off. I had a hunch he wanted to say more than that, but he didn’t want to waste the breath.

  “Hey, leave him alone. None of us know what it’s like to live with a newborn in the house.” Max Remington cast Kade a sympathetic glance. “Baby’s still not sleeping?”

  Kade shook his head. “Leah says it’s normal. She tells me all newborns wake up every three hours or so to eat. I think that sounds like a design flaw.”

  “You’re not kidding.” Jake winced. “Every three hours? All fucking night?”

  “All fucking night,” Kade confirmed. “Apparently, it’ll get better when she hits six weeks or so, but right now, I’m not sure I’m going to live that long.”

  “How’s Leah?” I asked. Kade and his pretty wife were practically newlyweds. They’d met through a mutual friend nearly a year before and hooked up for one night of fun. Neither of them had expected to see the other again, but as it turned out, Leah had gotten pregnant that night, as Kade found out when he ran into her while he was on temporary duty. They’d had some rough times, but now they were married, and their baby girl was just about three weeks old, I thought. Kade was knee-deep in love with his daughter, even if she did deprive him of some shut-eye.

  “Leah’s a trooper,” he answered me. “She fucking amazes me. She’s nursing the baby, so I’d think she should be exhausted—and she is, don’t get me wrong—but she just keeps smiling. I asked her the other day if she’d lost her mind and was covering up by pretending to be happy, but she only laughed at me and said she’d never been happier in all her life.” He paused. “I wonder if she’s delirious.”

  “Samantha’s off today, so she’s going over to your house to give her a hand.” Max smiled sympathetically at our friend. “She told me that she’s going to try to convince Leah to sleep while she’s there. She pretends it’s just to be helpful, but I think the truth is that she wants to get her hands on that baby.”

  Kade chuckled. “Samantha’s a good friend. And hey, maybe some of the baby magic will rub off on her, and then you can join the new parents club, too. Misery loves company, and all that. Not that I’m miserable,” he hastened to add. “Just really, really tired.”

  “We understand.” I leaned over to stretch. “Anything we can do? Do you need to take some more leave?” Kade had only taken a week off when the baby had been born, since his mom and sister had flown in from California to help.

  “I might, but we’re trying to save some of my leave so we can fly out to California when the baby’s a little older. I want to show Leah all my old haunts.”

  We began walking toward the barracks, though I knew Max and Kade would veer off to the parking lot, since they drove home to shower between PT and our regular work day. I thought about how my two friends’ lives had changed over the past months. Max was now living with his girlfriend, Samantha, and I suspected that wedding bells would be ringing before too long. And Kade was already married and had a kid. I’d thought we would all stay footloose and fancy free a little bit longer.

  Unbidden, an image of Delia Rollins flashed across my mind. Getting the teacher’s number from Sandra hadn’t been too much of a challenge. My friend’s wife had peppered me with questions about my intentions, and she’d admitted that Delia didn’t date very much. When I’d told her that I wasn’t sure how Delia felt about me, she’d volunteered to do some recon and then report back. Knowing Sandra, I’d expected good news once she’d completed her mission.

  Instead, though, she’d sounded subdued when she called me back, explaining what Delia had told her. At first, I was a little bummed, too, because I hadn’t even thought about that angle. I understood; I knew what it was like to lose a buddy to enemy fire, and I realized being widowed had to be a hundred times worse. She had a good reason to be gun-shy about dating another soldier.

  But I also had confidence in my own ability to convince Delia that I was worth taking the risk. I’d decided that building my case via text was the best way to make inroads, and for a few minutes, I thought I might be getting somewhere. But ultimately, she’d shut me down, kindly but firmly.

  “Hey, you guys ever date a widow?” I knew my question was abrupt, but I wanted to bring it up before Kade and Max took off for home.

  Max frowned. “Not me. Why do you ask?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know. I met this chick yesterday, and she was kind of hot. I asked her out, but she told me that she doesn’t date military men because her husband was killed in Afghanistan four years ago. She says she doesn’t want to go through that again.”

  “Huh.” Jake rubbed the back of his neck. “I guess I couldn’t really blame her for that. I mean . .
. damn, that’s tough. If I were a woman who’d lost my husband, the last thing I’d want to do is date someone like you.”

  “Why me?” I scowled at him. “What’s the matter with me?’

  “You’re danger ranger.” Kade said it as if I were stupid. “You’re always running off to climb a mountain or jump out of an airplane or shit like that. You’re not exactly the safe and cozy type, bro.”

  “Huh.” Briefly, I recalled our conversation topics from lunch the day before, wincing a little when I remembered taking about the airplane jumps. “But I’m not an idiot. I don’t just do this stuff without preparation and training.”

  “Yeah, you know that, and we know that, but to a chick who’s been through loss and grief before? I’d want to steer clear, too.” Max paused, regarding me with curiosity. “So, what’re you going to do, Shaw? How’re you going to get her to say yes?”

  I hadn’t thought that far. I’d figured that Delia had slammed the door shut, and I had to respect that. She’d said as much, hadn’t she?

  “Maybe I should just leave her alone,” I mused aloud. “I don’t want to hurt her or bring up painful memories.”

  “Yeah, that’s one way to go,” agreed Kade. “You could just forget about her. But in all the years I’ve known you, Kincaid, I don’t think I’ve ever heard you talk about asking a girl out. You’ve asked women about hooking up, yeah. But going out on a date?” He shook his head. “Maybe it’s the sleep deprivation talking, but it sounds to me like this woman might be worth the effort.”

  “You know what you should do?” Jake sounded thoughtful. “You shouldn’t do the full-court press on her. Not right away. Why not be her friend? You know, get better acquainted. Find stuff you have in common. Then if she relaxes enough to trust you, you can make your move. If not, you’ve been kind about it.”

  “He may have a point.” Max nodded. “I know you only met her, but do you two have anything in common that you know of?”