Hitting the Silk: A Career Soldier Military Romance

by Tawdra Kandle

  Shaw nodded solemnly. “I appreciate that, Delia. I feel so much better knowing you’re not planning to flirt or pressure me into some kind of meaningless fling that would only bring us both intense, unbelievable pleasure—possibly the greatest sex of our lives. Thank you for that. I’m relieved you won’t be drooling over me like I’m some piece of meat.”

  I tilted my head and pinned him with a steely, reproving glare. “Shaw. Can you please be serious?”

  He held up one hand with two fingers raised. “I’ll behave myself, Delia. Scout’s honor.”

  * * *

  It didn’t take long for me to suspect that Shaw Kincaid had never been a scout of any kind.

  He’d told me that he had the perfect spot for us to run. I’d suggested that he give me the address so that we could meet there, but apparently, that didn’t work for him, as he claimed that I wouldn’t be able to get there without him.

  “Wait a minute. This isn’t on post, is it?” I made it a point of staying as far away from Fort Lee as much as I could. Since my health care still came through the Army, I had to go there to see the doctors on occasion, and in a pinch, I shopped at the commissary and the post exchange. That did save me money. Still, I didn’t have any desire to run through the roads of the post, passing tons of soldiers.

  “No, it’s not, but you still need me to gain access.” Shaw had pushed his sunglasses back in place, so I couldn’t see his eyes to read them.

  “Okay, well, I need to go home and get changed. I’m not starting my runner’s training in heels and a dress.” I’d pointed to the pretty, flouncy sundress I was wearing. “And I assume you need clothes, too.”

  “My workout gear’s in the Jeep. I always keep a bag in there, just in case I feel like going for a quick run.”

  I’d frowned at him. “I thought you were slacking and needed to do this to help jumpstart your training, too.”

  He’d shrugged. “But I like to be prepared. Anyway, didn’t you say we’re burning daylight? Let’s go. I’ll follow you to your house, we can both change, and then you can ride with me to the trail.”

  None of that had sounded particularly safe and friend-zoney only to me, but I’d given up on arguing. I didn’t feel threatened by Shaw; it was my own body that I was worried might betray me.

  To his credit, he’d been the perfect gentleman so far, pulling his Jeep into my driveway behind me and changing in the guest bathroom while I’d ducked into my own bedroom to tug on yoga pants, a sports bra and a loose T-shirt. When I came back out into my small living room, he was bent over the side table, checking out the framed photos there. I tried to ignore the way his nylon shorts clung to his very fine ass and the intoxicating length of his thick, muscled legs. My fingers itched to test how hard his thighs felt.

  As though he’d sensed my presence, Shaw turned around, one eyebrow quirking when he caught me checking him out. I felt my face burn.

  “Uh, I just need to put on my socks and shoes.” I lifted the old sneakers in one hand. “And then I’ll be ready.”

  He scowled at the shoes. “How old are those?”

  “Um . . .” I tried to remember. “I don’t know. I got them for field day back when I first started teaching here, so I guess about five years. Why? Is there something wrong with them? I haven’t worn them for anything but a couple of field trips.”

  Shaw closed his eyes briefly and shook his head. “They’re not really running shoes. But if that’s all you have, they’ll do for today.”

  I lifted one shoulder. “I’m not planning to make a career of this, you know. It’s just a half-marathon, right?”

  He made a noise that I couldn’t quite decipher. “Yeah, just a half-marathon.” He pointed to the sneakers. “Just put them on so we can get moving.”

  Once I was safely shod, I locked the house behind us. Shaw opened the door to the passenger side of his Jeep, and I climbed.

  “Where are we going?” I asked, as he backed out, his hand gripping the headrest of my seat.

  “There’s a trail that runs through the battlefield. It’s a good one, packed down, and the scenery’s pretty this time of year. And it’s quiet, too. You won’t have guys from post running there.”

  I appreciated that Shaw had thought of that. “Thanks. Are we allowed to be there, though? Don’t you need to have some kind of clearance, or to buy a National Park pass or something?”

  “Yeah, most people do, but my buddy’s girlfriend works for the battlefield, and she always lets me use the trail. That’s why I said it would be easier for me to drive—they know me there, and no one will bother us.”

  We were quiet for the rest of the drive. I stared out the window, watching the familiar landscape. Shaw turned down a side road, waving to a ranger in a guard booth as we bumped along the barely-paved narrow passage. After a few minutes, the road widened slightly, and he pulled off to the side, parking the Jeep and removing the keys.

  “Okay, this is the best place for us to start.” He climbed out, and I did the same, eyeing the woods around us with a good deal of wariness.

  “Is it safe for us here? It feels very. . . remote.” I glanced around at the tall trees, which extended as far as I could see. The silence was complete, too. I couldn’t even hear passing cars.

  “Sure, it’s safe.” Shaw didn’t even look up from where he was fussing with his very high-techy looking watch. “Well, as long as you’re with me, anyway. I wouldn’t suggest coming down here by yourself.”

  “Don’t worry. I wouldn’t.” I suppressed a shudder. “So, what do I do now? Just start running?”

  He spared me a glance of pitying disbelief. “Is that what you were going to do if I hadn’t happened along to help you train? ‘Just start running’?” He shook his head. “Did you read anything about it? Articles, books, maybe a post online?”

  I frowned. “No. I figured I’d just, like, start off slow, maybe five miles today, and then ten by next week . . . and you know. It would eventually get easier, and those last three point two can’t be that bad, right? I’m not looking to break any speed records.”

  “Delia.” Shaw was trying to keep the impatience from his voice, I could tell. “You’ve never run any distance at all. Five miles is a long way for your first try. Let’s work on some interval training, to begin. We’ll run for five minutes, and then we’ll walk for ten, and then . . . we’ll see how you’re doing after a half-hour of that.”

  “That seems like it’s going to take a long time to work up to the whole thirteen miles,” I objected. “I mean, how hard can it be to just run? People do it all the time, don’t they?”

  “I guess they do, if something or someone is chasing them.” He leaned a little closer to me. “I could chase you, if you think it would make you run a little faster.”

  My heart beat picked up. “Thanks for your willingness to help, but we’ll try the intervals first, since you seem to think it’s a good idea.”

  He nodded. “I’ve got my watch set. I’ll call out when it’s time to switch, so pay attention.”

  I walked with him over to the trail, squinting ahead of us. “Got it.” I shot him a saucy grin. “Ready to eat my dust, soldier boy?”

  Shaw gazed down at me, his expression carefully neutral. “Watch it, lady. You know you can only push a guy so far before . . .” He didn’t finish the threat, but the look in his eyes told me what he didn’t say. I swallowed and cleared my throat.

  “Let’s run.”

  Chapter Five

  Shaw

  “I think I’m dying.”

  Delia collapsed onto the trail, hugging her knees up to her chest. Her face was redder than her hair, which was hanging in sweaty tendrils where it had come loose of her ponytail. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, and her arms were shaking.

  “Yeah, I don’t think you are.” The snarky smartass part of me couldn’t help adding, “And you were going to run five miles today, huh?”

  She glared up at me, tilting down her sunglasses so that I could ge
t the full weight of her laser eyes. “Bite me, soldier boy. How long was that, anyway? It felt like five miles, at least.”

  I struggled not to laugh as I looked down at my watch. “Um . . . it was one point two miles.”

  “What?” Her green eyes went wide. “No way. No fucking way. Your watch must be messed up.”

  “It’s not. It’s very accurate.”

  She fell back, draping one forearm over her eyes. “I’m never going to be able to do this, am I? I was such an idiot to sign up for it.”

  “I wouldn’t say that.” I took advantage of her closed eyes and prone position to let my eyes range down her body. The skintight yoga pants outlined her legs perfectly, and where the T-shirt was rucked up to her waist, I could get a partial view of her cute little ass. Her chest was almost flat, thanks to what I assumed was a binding sports bra, but I was pretty sure I’d spotted one stiff nipple where the cotton of the shirt was pulled tight over it.

  All in all, Delia Rollins was a sexy package, and my body, always primed and horny after any form of exercise, was raring to let go just now. I wanted to toss one leg over her, bracing myself up above her, and lower my mouth to kiss her lips before I worked my way lower, down her tits and then to the dip between her legs, where I was sure she’d taste—

  “Shaw?” She’d lifted her arm away from her eyes and held her sunglasses folded in her hand. One green eye was watching me curiously. “Did you hear me?”

  “Hmmmm?” I licked my lips, my mouth suddenly unbelievably dry. “Sorry. What did you say?”

  “I said, do you really think it’s going to be possible for me to do this in six weeks? To be ready for the half-marathon by then?” She looked anxious, insecurity and doubt playing on her face.

  “Of course, it is. Anything is possible if you want it badly enough.” I hoped she got the double meaning. “But it is going to mean working hard, every single day. I’ll put together a training schedule, and we’re going to have to stick to it.”

  “Shaw.” She pushed herself to a sitting position, replacing her sunglasses. “Thank you so much for doing this. For helping me. I can’t ask you to work with me every day, though. I know you have a life and plenty of other stuff to do. You don’t have to hold my hand the whole way.”

  “Hey.” I kicked gently at her foot where it rested on the ground. “You let me worry about what I can and can’t do, okay? If I say I have time to give to you—to your training, then I do. Okay? Are we clear?”

  She stared up at me for a few beats before she nodded. “All right. But you’ve got to promise me that if I’m a total loser at running and you realize you’re wasting your time, you’ll tell me and cut your losses.”

  “It’s not going to happen, but sure. I’ll promise.” I offered her a hand and dragged her back to her feet, steeling myself against the strong desire to tug her body against mine. “Let’s get back to work now. Remember to even up your breathing, or you’re going to be working against yourself. Keep to a steady pace.”

  Delia rolled her shoulders. “I know I can run faster, though. Maybe not farther, but we were going pretty slow.”

  “Yeah, but even so, you ran out of steam. This is a longer race. If you run as fast as you can right out of the gate, you won’t have enough energy to make it the rest of the distance. You’ll use up all your reserves too quickly, and you won’t have enough to even drag your ass across the finish line. Let people pass you, and remember that you’re working toward the long-term goal, not just a temporary outrunning.” I smiled a little, thinking that my advice applied to myself, as well, and not only to running. “Sometimes, a goal worth reaching requires patience and stamina more than speed and fancy footwork.”

  From the way she tilted her head at me, I had the sense that she understood my double meaning. But she didn’t say anything as she chugged down some water, screwed the cap back on it and tossed it to me.

  “You’re the boss. Let’s do this.”

  * * *

  For the next three weeks, my life fell into a steady rhythm. It was a new way of doing things, yeah, but strangely, I found that I liked it. It felt somehow right, even if the more time I spent with Delia Rollins, the more certain I was that I wanted even more.

  Every day after work, I changed back into my running clothes and drove to Delia’s house, picked her up to head out to the trail. We ran rain or shine, no matter how she complained. Each day, we went a little further, pushed a little harder and made some headway.

  After that first time, I didn’t go into her house; Delia was waiting for me on her front porch every time I pulled up. She’d jump into the passenger seat of the Jeep, offering me a ready smile, and we’d take off, both of us chatting about our respective days. She told me stories about her students and what they’d done that day. I could hear her love both for the kids and for her job in her voice.

  For my part, I’d share what my guys had done that day or conversations I’d had with my friends. I’d introduced Delia to Samantha one day when we’d run into her at the national park, so she was familiar with her. I made her laugh when I told her about Kade and how he was dealing with new fatherhood, and I’d even shown her pics on my phone of me holding baby Emma.

  “She’s so sweet.” Delia had sighed, her eyes glued to the screen. “Does she smell amazing? I love the scent of babies’ heads. They just . . .” She closed her eyes. “There’s nothing like it. So new and fresh, and yet warm and snuggly at the same time.”

  I thought about how the baby had smelled. “Uh, I guess she smelled okay. I didn’t really notice.”

  “Men.” Delia rolled her eyes, but I saw the hint of smile around her lips.

  “Did you want kids?” I knew it was an abrupt change of subject, but we’d grown comfortable enough with each other now that we didn’t really fuss over that kind of thing. “When you were married, I mean. Were you planning on them?”

  She turned to stare out the window, my phone still in her hand. “Oh, yeah. At first, we’d thought we’d wait until after Dane left the army, but then before he was deployed, we’d talked about maybe starting sooner, since we’d get medical coverage for my pregnancy and delivery if we were still in the military. We actually tried for a few months before he . . . left, but nothing happened.” She lifted one shoulder. “I was disappointed—well, crushed is probably the better word—when I knew I wasn’t pregnant, but later, I realized that being a widowed mom would’ve been tough.” She bit her bottom lip, and I wondered if she was trying to convince me or herself.

  “I want kids.” I surprised myself by saying the words. “I always thought I’d wait until after I retired to have them, but I don’t want to be an old man when I’m a dad, you know? I want to do the cool stuff with them.”

  “Like teach them to run?” She grinned at me. “I bet your kids will be naturally athletic, and you won’t have to put up with the same crap from them that you have from me.”

  I shrugged, sliding her a sideways glance. “Or maybe they’ll take after their mom, and I’ll have my work cut out for me.”

  She laughed. “You’ll end up marrying a super jock, Shaw. Some girl who wants to do all the exciting things that you love. And your children will be little mini-yous. You’ll be this perfect family who everyone envies.”

  My chest tightened. “I don’t know. That sounds pretty damn boring to me. Perfection is the pits. I like some spice and variety in my life, myself.”

  It was getting harder and harder not to say what I knew I wanted . . . which was the woman in the seat next to me. The time we’d been spending together had been like a drug to my system: the more I had of it, the more I wanted. It was beginning to be physically excruciating to drop her off every day at the end of our running sessions, and I’d found myself trying to come up with excuses to see her on the one day of rest per week that I’d built into the training schedule.

  If she’d given me even the slightest sign that her resolve was wavering, I’d have jumped all over that. But she didn’t. Delia he
ld onto that wall of just-friendship, clinging to it for dear life. She ignored all of my vague double entendres and the suggestive comments I made under my breath. I was beginning to give up hope, no matter how encouraging Sandra was.

  “Give her a little more time, Shaw,” she told me when I’d stopped by one day to check on them. “She talks about you all the time, and I don’t even think she realizes that she’s doing it. Every time she mentions your name, her whole face lights up.”

  And so I kept up what had become our daily routine with a smile on my face and hope in my heart. Part of me wondered what would happen after the half-marathon was over and I no longer had an excuse to run with her. Neither of us brought that up; although Delia had definitely improved and was now able to keep a decent pace for over five miles, I didn’t expect her to get so attached to running that she’d want to continue training with me. If something was going to happen between the two of us, it had to be before the race.

  Just to complicate matters, I was leaving for air assault school in five days. I’d be in Kentucky for ten days and come back home to Fort Lee less than a week before Delia’s race. I hadn’t mentioned the course to her, and there were a couple of reasons why. First, I didn’t want her to panic about having to train by herself for ten days. By this time, she was more than capable of doing it, but I realized that her mental state and confidence were at least half the battle. Second, I had a feeling that Delia would see this course as a confirmation of what she saw as my high-risk lifestyle, and it would be just another brick keeping me firmly in the friend zone.

  I’d been thinking about that looming deadline as I drove to her house. She trusted me now, and if I wasn’t honest with her about air assault school, I might lose the faith she had in me. I didn’t want to do that. I knew I had to man up and spill the beans . . . preferably after our run today. I reasoned that there was no sense in telling her beforehand, when the news might upset her and throw off the day’s training.