Call of Duty [Class of '93 Trilogy Book 3]

by Felicia Forella

  "You know damn well that there's one thing we don't agree on.” He looked so smug and self-serving that Casey longed to reach out and smack the look right off his face. She clutched the folder even tighter.

  So there it was, the ever-present bone of contention and the one reason he hadn't yet signed the divorce papers. The man seemed to think that since he hadn't wanted a child, he wasn't responsible for providing toward his well-being. The Air Force, however, took a very strong stand when it came to its personnel and child support. Unless they had proof that other arrangements had been made, a certain percentage automatically got deducted from the absentee parent's paycheck. Brian had been after her for the past six months to give up her rights to child support for Jackson. He may have bailed out on the marriage, but there was no way she was going to let him slide on his obligation to his son. The last time she read a biology book, it took an egg and a sperm to make a baby. Since he'd personally deposited the sperm necessary to start the whole process, he had to take responsibility for their son. She'd never call him her husband ever again, but he'd always be Jackson's father.

  "And we'll continue to disagree, Brian. Nothing will ever change the fact that you are Jackson's father."

  "Child support is having a negative impact on my quality of life, Casey."

  "Oh, well I suppose your ‘quality of life,'” she said as she wiggled her first two fingers on each hand, “is a hell of a lot better than mine. Single parenting tends to do that. Not that you'd know."

  He didn't even have the decency to look chagrined. “I need that money, Casey, for Candi and her daughter and myself. I'm petitioning to sign away my parental rights."

  "Excuse me?” She wasn't sure where she found the strength to stand up to the idiot standing in front of her. She couldn't believe she ever loved him, or trusted him. Had he always been selfish and self-absorbed? Her face flushed, leaving her with splotchy red cheeks, and she'd spit nails if she could. “If you expect me to put the interests of some home-wrecking bimbo and her daughter over those of my own son then you're even more stupid than I thought. Get out."

  "This isn't over, Casey. Not by a long shot. But of course, I shouldn't have expected any different from a frigid little daddy's girl."

  She knew she should just walk out the door and ignore the comment. She knew he lashed out because he wasn't getting what he wanted. That had always been his way.

  "Are you implying you left me for the bimbo because you weren't satisfied with our sex life?"

  "I'm not implying anything. The truth speaks for itself. Every other woman in my bed pleased me more than you."

  Every other woman. She didn't want to know how many of those other women came after they married. “You didn't exactly help me out by telling me what to do. I was a virgin, in case you've confused me with one of your many other partners. I didn't have your wealth of experience.” She felt her cheeks flush scalding hot this time.

  "Don't remind me. Even being married to a general's daughter wasn't worth what I had to endure between your frigidity and your figure in that horror chamber called a bed."

  "You know what? Just get the hell out of my office before I call security. I'm sure my father would love nothing better than to see you again.” A score of butterflies took up residence in her stomach, threatening to cause her to toss her breakfast. Instead of waiting for him to vacate her chair and her office space, she squared her shoulders and left the room. She had no desire to embarrass herself any more than she already had.

  Wandering the halls of the hospital, Brian's words echoed through her mind. Frigid. Every other woman in my bed pleased me more than you.

  Had he really married her because of her father, because of what it might mean for his career? Memories of their time together flooded her mind, washing her away in waves of confusion. She searched for knowledge of when he could have learned about her father. Did he know before he seduced her? She shuddered at the cheap dirty feeling that broke over her at the thought. Did he know before he asked her to marry him? Had he ever loved her? She remembered how happy she was on her wedding day. She was just too stupid to see the truth.

  Blindly, she staggered down the hall, unable to breathe the same air as Brian had. She didn't even recognize the section of the hospital where her legs gave out and forced her to collapse in a nearby chair. Teardrops trickled down her cheeks one at a time until she could no longer hold them back. Deep sobs accompanied the tears until she had nothing left to give. She had given Brian so much. And now all she had left were the doubts. Doubts about her intelligence and her femininity.

  She lifted her hand to her nose before she realized what she was doing. Wiping her eyes instead, she searched for tissues for her nose. There's never a tissue box around when I need one.

  And then it hit her. He'd told her he was trying to have his parental rights terminated. If he succeeded, he'd no longer be Jackson's legal father. Ohmigod. How the hell was she supposed to explain that one to her son? She had no idea how to begin to explain that his father wanted nothing to do with him, legally, financially, emotionally.

  Sobs wracked her body and she struggled to breathe. Her heart hurt for her son, her stomach clenched, the pain making her nauseous.

  "Casey?"

  Her head snapped up at the sound of the familiar voice only to drop her gaze back to her lap. She had to look a mess. She'd bet her eyes and nose were red and puffy. Why did God's Gift—of all people—have to find her? He seemed summoned from the darkest depths of her soul. Conjured from thin air by hormones knocked completely out of kilter thanks to the conversation with the jerk.

  "Casey? Are you sick? Is Jackson hurt? Is that why you're here?” Fear mixed with concern tinted his hazel eyes, clouding them. They had to look better than her red puffy ones. He dropped to his knees between her legs.

  "No, we're both fine.” Time for a diversionary tactic. His nearness overwhelmed her. All she wanted to do was launch herself in his arms and be held. To rest her cheek on that broad shoulder and be comforted. “Why are you here?” She snuffled back the last of the sobs.

  Did he really blush before he began talking?

  "A buddy's wife is here for a doctor's appointment. He couldn't drive her, had a sortie, so I volunteered."

  "You volunteered?” There was that pesky human side again, at a time when she needed human contact.

  "What can I say? I'm a sucker for a beautiful woman."

  She had to be mistaken. She had to be. The look in his eyes implied that she was a beautiful woman. Too bad she knew different. Her heart turned a combination cartwheel/somersault when he placed two fingers under her chin and tipped her head up. Her lungs struggled to draw a breath as he gazed deeply into her eyes. His scent surrounded her, only making the task harder. What was it about this man that made her forget everything bad that had ever happened to her? Her palms itched with the need to lay her hands on his thighs, to feel the bunched muscles. She dropped them between her legs instead.

  "So why are you here?” He sounded like he really cared.

  "I'm supposed to be working; I'm a volunteer."

  "Is that what has you all upset? Something about work?"

  Dressed in his flight suit, Casey figured he'd either come from or had to get back to the flight line. Yet when he threaded his fingers through hers as they dangled between her legs, she felt as if he had all the time in the world for her. No one had ever made her feel that way. She didn't know why; she couldn't explain it if she had to, but the conversation with Brian spilled out of her mouth.

  She assumed he would take her ex-husband's side. It was a pilot thing she'd never understand. She assumed he wouldn't care one little bit about her pathetic life. Instead, he stroked his thumb reassuringly along her knuckles at just the right time and knew just when to squeeze her fingers in sympathy. This human side of God's Gift would get her in trouble so fast. As she gazed into his eyes, she could scarcely believe what she saw—anger and rage the likes of which she had never seen. They weren't di
rected at her. No. She knew that if Chad found Brian right now that her ex would get the stuffing knocked out of him. Part of her harbored the hope that Chad would find him. She'd even point the way if she knew it.

  Unbidden, her gaze dropped to his lips. They were so soft and full, almost feminine lips despite the fact that nothing on this man's finely formed face qualified as feminine. Thick slashes of eyebrows topped his deep-set eyes. His prominent cheekbones accentuated his nose. He parted his thick hair on the side; the waves tempting her to run her fingers through them. It was just past noon, but he already had stubble on his strong jaw.

  Back to those lips. She wondered how they feel pressed up against her own lips. Would he find her cold? She didn't feel cold around Chad, rather, she burned when he was anywhere near. With him kneeling between her legs, she feared she'd set off the hospital's smoke detectors. The position was too intimate and she was too vulnerable. But heaven help her, she couldn't bring herself to make him move. Except maybe closer. How would he feel pressed up against her, his hips forcing her thighs wide? Her tongue darted out, licking at her lips.

  She exhaled a soft sigh that was quickly swallowed up by his mouth. Briefly, before she had a chance to react, he brushed his lips across hers with a barely there kiss and then pulled back. Eyes darkened unmistakably with passion locked with hers.

  "I'm sorry.” His eyes never once broke contact with hers. “I shouldn't have done that, but I'm glad I did. I don't want you to ever doubt just how beautiful you are."

  A decidedly unfeminine snort escaped her lips.

  "Fine, don't believe me.” He turned his head in the direction of a very pregnant lady lumbering in their direction. “Listen, I'd like to take Jackson for a ride tomorrow. Can I take both of you to lunch afterward?"

  He flustered her so much that two coherent words were hard to string together. “Sure."

  "I'll be by around noon, if that's okay."

  "Sure.” Such sparkling conversation. Such an innocent contact. God help her if he ever really kissed her.

  A discreet clearing of a throat caused him to tense.

  "I'll see you then.” He gave her fingers one last squeeze when he had pushed to his feet and then joined the pregnant lady waiting off to the side.

  She couldn't help but notice how his hand went immediately to the small of her back in a very proprietary gesture. Her brain started to churn. The kiss hadn't meant anything to him. It was probably no more relevant than his hand on the other woman's back.

  So why did her lips still burn from such innocent contact?

  Chapter 7

  The ultimate responsibility of the pilot is to fulfill the dreams of the countless millions of earthbound ancestors who could only stare skyward ... and wish.

  Chad stood propped against the wall, feet crossed at the ankles, talking to a British Royal Air Force pilot in town to take part in the training exercise, but who had arrived early to take advantage of the location and sneak in a vacation. A cold beer dangled almost nonchalantly, as if forgotten, between his fingers. He hadn't bothered to run back to his apartment and change before heading to the Officer's Club to mingle.

  Most of the pilots congregated at the O Club after completing their sorties and debriefings for the day to unwind and unofficially debrief. They had the weekend off and didn't have to worry about being on the flight line at oh dark thirty Monday morning. No better place existed on earth to indulge in life's sins and vices than Sin City. He knew. He'd tried to find it.

  He had joined his fellow pilots at the O Club for the past few nights even though he preferred The Cockpit for his extracurricular activities. He had purposely stayed away from the bar—and from Casey—since his discussion with the general regarding her. He needed the time to reinforce his battle plan; he needed to convince his body that it didn't need Casey. He'd watched her from a distance, though, keeping his word to her father.

  He'd been doing a damn fine job of being surreptitious, too, until this afternoon. The second he laid eyes on her sitting in the chair in the hospital corridor with her slumped shoulders and her red-rimmed eyes, every instinct in his body sent him scurrying in her direction. Fear lodged in his throat; fear that something had happened to either her or her son; fear that he had been too late and had failed. Again. He had been unable to fight back the urge to comfort her as the tears coursed freely down her cheeks. His arms still ached from the effort involved in not folding her into his grasp, clutching her against his chest and drying her eyes.

  Little had he known that the source of her distress was none other than the son of a bitch in question. He'd taken an instant dislike to the man at Casey's first mention of him. Then, after hearing General Covington's suspicions and Rebel's information, his aversion had grown. After listening to the crap he heaped on Casey and Jackson, he was prepared to kill the man with his own hands. His first instinct had been to bolt through the hospital in an effort to find the creep. But that would have meant leaving Casey and he hadn't been willing to do that.

  He almost hoped the asshole was behind whatever was going on at the apartment. It would give him a chance to throw a few punches before he turned the son of a bitch over to the police.

  What kind of man irrevocably severed ties with his child? The fuckwad was willing to turn his back on his own son, denying him a father, depriving himself of the chance to watch that little boy grow into a man. God, he'd give his left nut for the lost opportunity to see his son, to watch his son grow up. No matter what would have happened with Brenda, even though he'd had his doubts about her, he'd have been one hundred percent committed to his son and had been from the very moment she sprang the news on him.

  Brian Wilkes was more than a colossal shit. The man had to be deaf and blind as well as dumber than dirt. Casey frigid? The woman sparked sensuality. She set off more heat than the desert asphalt. Just kneeling between her thighs had him primed and ready to go. Then when he kissed her...

  That kiss was a big mistake. He never should have done it. He couldn't resist. Her lips pursed so delicately as she talked to him, and she poured out her heart to him. He had almost embarrassed himself with that split-second contact by shooting off in his underwear. That brief taste of her left his body clamoring for more.

  The time had come for evasive maneuvers. He had been celibate for too long now. He needed to find a willing woman and release this tension roiling inside of him. Maybe that would help him be much more controlled when around Casey. No “maybes” about it, the doctor ordered up a round of wild monkey sex and he needed to fill the prescription. Soon.

  A now empty beer in his hand, Chad excused himself from the RAF pilot to search for a full one. As he crossed to the bar, a little towheaded boy caught his attention out of the corner of his eye.

  "Yook, Mommy! I tod you I saw his car!” Jackson came barreling into the bar before his mother could reach out a hand to stop him. “Hi, mister! ‘Member me? Are we gonna go for a ride in your car now?"

  He gripped the youngster's hand and guided him out of the bar to the safety of the lobby and his mother. He scooped the child up until he was at eye level. “As a matter of fact, kiddo, I talked with your mom this afternoon. How would you like to go for a ride tomorrow and then go for lunch at ... say ... McDonald's?” Why kids loved that place, he'd never understand.

  "Mommy! Mommy! Can we?"

  He watched as the child bounced up and down with obvious glee, even though he was being held. The bundle of energy wiggled in his arms, necessitating a firmer grip. It would definitely not do to drop the general's grandson on his ass. The effort it took to keep a secure hold helped him avoid staring at the boy's mother.

  Except he couldn't help himself. His eyes possessed a will of their own. She had changed since their earlier encounter, into a short-sleeved sundress, one that accentuated her voluptuous figure. The top swell of her luscious breasts peeked over the scooped neckline. The skirt flirted just above her knees, highlighting toned calves and long legs. He wondered how those legs
would feel wrapped around his hips.

  "Major Monroe."

  Her soft-spoken recognition jolted him from his wandering thoughts but didn't halt the stirring in his groin. Flight suits did little to camouflage a stiffy.

  "Please call me Chad.” He hoped his eyes conveyed the message that after the afternoon, they were most definitely on a first name basis. “It's a pleasure to see you this evening, Casey. You look ... stunning."

  "I ... well, I'm just ... we're meeting my father for dinner.” Her face flushed prettily. Even her neck and chest colored a tempting pink. He wondered just how far down that blush went.

  Damn! He was straining against the zipper now.

  "Mommy, you didn't answer my question.” Jackson leaned over and tugged on his mother's dress.

  Thank goodness for the kid.

  "Major Monroe did offer, yes."

  "Major Monroe offered what?” Chad's reflexes startled, his body jerking to an awareness other than Casey, his brain taking control of his pants as he snapped to attention.

  "Grandpa!” Jackson wiggled out of his arms and leapt into his grandfather's in one smooth movement. “I'm gonna go for a ride in a Corvette. Isn't that right, Mommy?"

  Casey greeted her father with a kiss on the cheek. Chad watched as she shifted her gaze between the two men. She opened her mouth to speak but he stopped her with a salute to her father.

  "At ease, Major. We're inside and I'm out of uniform.” The other man smiled knowingly at him. “Would you care to join us for dinner?” He set his grandson to his feet with ease. “We can get a table for four just as easily as one for three."

  "Thank you for the offer, sir, but I was on my way out. Casey, I'll see you and Jackson tomorrow.” Not to mention the fact that he wasn't sure if he had it in him to sit between his CO and his CO's daughter in his current aroused condition. He wanted to live to see tomorrow and a promising military career. “Is ten o'clock too early?"

  "Oh, no, we'll be up long before then."

  "Then I'll see you in the morning. Good night, Casey, General."