by Tawny Weber
“Dude, you are one grumpy mother.” Castillo grinned as he plucked a five and twelve ones off of himself.
Aiden clenched his teeth to keep the threat of an official reprimand from flying out.
Not because he had a problem smacking down insubordination, even if it was from a friend. Nope. What kept his mouth shut was that, officially, Castillo outranked him.
Aiden dropped his head and sighed.
And, yeah, that Castillo was a friend.
“What’s your problem?” the friend asked, pushing back from the table and making a show of counting his money as he crossed the room.
“I’ve got a lot on my mind,” Aiden muttered, scooping up the cards to deal a round of solitaire. A game he should be good at, considering he’d be going it alone. “I just need time to sort it out.”
“You’ve had time. And distractions. Whatever’s in there ain’t gonna sort itself. So maybe you should tell ole Castillo your woes and there ya go, quick as a snap—” which he demonstrated by snapping his fingers, the sound echoing like a shotgun blast through the barracks “—I’ll fix up your life.”
Aiden smirked. At six-four, two-twenty pounds of muscle, and Auntie as his call sign, Castillo was known for being bossy, pushy and, damn the man, always right. His cocky attitude, quick fist and ready hand to a friend made Aiden grateful he was on their side. But his insistence on fixing everything, everyone, was irritating at best. Hence, his call sign.
“I don’t need fixing,” Aiden said.
“You’re gonna keep throwing the cards around, copping an attitude and being a pain in my ass, you do.”
Three weeks back from leave, two days back from a training session in the Atlantic and Aiden was still in the same lousy funk he’d been in when he’d flown out of San Francisco.
He’d figured it’d take a couple days, max, to get over missing Sage. That’s all it’d ever taken before.
Of course, they’d never had sex before. They’d never been engaged before, nor had he been a complete dick and broken her heart before.
He figured all that would take at least an extra couple of weeks to get over.
He stared at the cards laid out on the table, not seeing a single move. Maybe because he’d made the wrong choice? He looked around the stark barracks, his bunk and wall-locker as barren and boring as the rest of the room. Was giving up all that, hurting Sage, worth this?
“You ever had to make a choice? A tough one?” Aiden asked quietly. Not looking up, he pulled the cards back into a stack and reshuffled.
“Life or death?”
Aiden grimaced, not surprised at Castillo’s tone. Yeah, yeah. Given the type of missions they went on, the objectives they carried out, that was a stupid question.
Crap. This talking about stuff was hard.
He debated sidestepping.
But, dammit, three weeks and he was still in a funk.
Clearly he wasn’t getting himself out on his own.
“No. More like, directions,” he decided with a vague wave of his hand. “Life.”
“I had to choose between a curvy blonde and a lithe redhead once,” Castillo said, dropping to his bunk, folding his hands behind his head and grinning. “Tough decision, given that they were both naked and offering up all sorts of enticements.”
“That’s not quite the life decision I was talking about.” Halfway through dealing out his solitaire pyramid, Aiden shot an arch look across the room.
“It was a life changer, my friend.”
“I’m sure.” Aiden dealt a hand of solitaire, his eyes locked on the cards.
“Don’t you want to know what I did?”
“I can live without the details.”
“Suit yourself.” With a wide grin, Castillo reached under his bunk and grabbed a small knapsack and started pulling out supplies.
“What the hell are you doing?” Aiden asked, eyeing the sports sock, blue buttons and a surgery-sized needle dangling thread.
“My nana sent me instructions for making a poppet. Sorta like a voodoo doll, but not.”
Despite his lousy mood, Aiden laughed.
“You’re making a Banks doll?”
The big guy glanced up from his awkward attempt to sew the toe into the shape of a head. His blue eyes were about as innocent as a three-year-old’s, and his expression pure as an altar boy. Yeah. He was up to something.
“A Banks doll? That’d be against protocol. I’m just researching a little family tradition. Sorta like an experiment.”
“That Banks’s sock?” Aiden asked, having read enough about indigenous beliefs to have a pretty good idea what the experiment involved. Since he had no belief himself in the possibility of it working, he didn’t bother asking about the hoped-for outcome.
If Castillo’s sewing was anything to go by, though, Banks’s head was in danger of falling off. Before or after he got a major belly ache and went bald.
“Found the sock in the laundry,” Castillo muttered, wincing when he stabbed the needle into his thumb. He wiped the blood on the cuff of the sock. Whether it was part of the ritual, or just sloppy sewing, he made a show of rubbing it in real good.
“Banks’s sock?” Aiden asked.
“Could be.” Castillo squinted over his sock project. “Got a problem with that?”
“As long as you stay outta my socks, I don’t care what you do,” Aiden decided. The last guy who’d had a problem with Castillo was an air-force jet jockey, and he’d ended up in the infirmary.
“Why do you have such a beef with the guy?” Aiden asked. “We’ve teamed with plenty of gung-ho, by-the-book, medal junkies. You’ve always taken it in stride before.”
“Dunno.” Castillo shrugged. “Why don’t we talk about those life choices that’ve got you all pissy. Then we can talk beef.”
Right.
Aiden tilted his head, conceding the point.
Before he could figure out if he wanted any more of Castillo’s questionable advice—because hello, who needed to think when the choice was between a blonde and a redhead?—the barracks door opened.
Petty Officer Brody Lane strode in.
“Yo, Castillo. Masters,” he said in greeting as he crossed the room.
Aiden responded with an absent nod, more interested in how Brody was moving than whatever he had to say. Even after two weeks of maneuvers, the guy moved with ease. Good. That meant he was completely recovered from the injury that’d jacked up his leg and almost taken him out of the game earlier that year.
“You’ve got company,” Brody said, tossing his cap on his bed before snagging his stack of mail off the table. The guy lived two hours away from his fiancée, saw her often enough that his toothbrush barely had time to dry, and she’d still sent him at least a half-dozen letters. Hell, she’d have had to be writing some of those when he was lying in bed next to her.
Love. It was crazy.
“What company?” Aiden asked.
“Pretty lady. Didn’t want to talk to you here in the barracks,” Brody said, one eye on Aiden while thumbing through his mail. “She’s in the Joint Reception Center.”
She?
Why she would visit him on base?
Dammit. Aiden sighed. As if he needed to wonder.
“Sage is here?” he asked, tossing his cards on the table, not caring that they sent the others flying. Clearly, he was through playing solitaire.
“Sage Taylor,” Brody acknowledged with a nod. His tone was casual, but the look in his eyes was piercing. “She claims she’s your fiancée.”
Aiden didn’t have to glance over to see that Castillo was looking just as intrigued.
Shit.
“You’re engaged?”
No. Before he could deny it, rule three flashed through his brain. Dammit.<
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“Yeah. Sorta.” He shrugged. “We had a fight.”
“Ahhh, one that made you question life directions,” Castillo surmised with a grin, pointing the sock at Aiden.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” Aiden said, not willing to have this discussion. Now, or ever. He grabbed his cap out of his back pocket and pulled it down to shade his eyes. “Can’t keep my fiancée waiting while I hang around chitchatting with you guys.”
“Not a problem,” Brody said, scraping the cards into a pile without glancing at them. His eyes still locked on Aiden, he nodded and tapped the deck on the table. “We’ll be here when you’re done.”
“Yep, waiting to chitchat,” Castillo said, holding his sock up in the air as if inspecting his lousy sewing. The eyes on the thing were lopsided, but it was actually starting to take on an eerie resemblance to Banks. Aiden made a mental note to refrain from pissing Auntie Castillo off.
“You said she’s at the Joint Reception Center?” he asked Brody.
“Yep.”
A nod of thanks and he headed out the door and across the base at a double-step.
What the hell was Sage doing here?
His guts were in knots, the emotions he’d been carefully ignoring churning. Maybe it was news. Something she didn’t want to tell him over the phone.
He’d just talked to the Professor two nights ago, so he knew the older man was recovering from surgery well and they were pretty sure they’d got most of the cancer.
He’d had his thrice-weekly email update from Dr. Brooke this morning.
They wouldn’t lie about Lee’s health.
Sage must be here for a different reason.
The logical ones all ran through Aiden’s mind and he let them run right back out. Because every one of them was tied to the emotional nightmare of their last encounter. But she wasn’t a masochist. Nor had she outed their engagement to her father. He knew she hadn’t because the Professor was still pitching job changes and property purchases.
So why ever she was here, he was sure it had nothing to do with logic.
He was equally sure his funk was about to take a nosedive, skating somewhere along heartache and misery.
He wondered what advice Castillo would have for that. A threesome with triplets, probably.
* * *
SAGE PACED. Five steps to the window wall, seven steps to the door, three steps to the lumpy couch, then do it all over again.
Nerves.
They sucked. She couldn’t decide what she hated more. The miserable pain that was now her constant companion. The sense of loss in realizing that she’d finally found the answer to everything she’d been searching for, only to have to let it go. Or the giddy rush that had her skin dancing in anticipation of being near Aiden again.
Find the silver lining, Sage, she warned for the millionth time this month.
At least she’d found her bliss, and had mind-blowingly incredible sex. Lots and lots of it, too. There were plenty of people who went through life without either.
As far as silver linings went, it was pretty weak. But she had the rest of her life. She’d shore it up eventually.
Feeling a smidge better after that dreary pep talk, she took a deep, meditative breath. Zen. Find Zen.
She’d just about found it when the door opened.
She spun around, her Zen fizzling like a wet firecracker.
“Aiden,” she said.
She’d rarely seen him in his military clothes. Fatigues tucked into gleaming black boots, a fitted T stretched over that gorgeous, rock-hard chest. A cap shading his gaze, and the glint of metal around his neck.
Oh, my. He was one sexy SEAL.
Suddenly a million doubts pounded through her mind, each one shaking its finger at her in warning. Aiden didn’t know why she was here. She didn’t have to follow through with her plan.
Instead, she could throw herself in his arms, declare her lust and beg him for a quickie. She glanced around the room. There was a chair, right there.
“Why are you here?”
Sage swallowed hard, mentally waving goodbye to that little fantasy. Might as well stick with the original plan since her sexy SEAL was clearly thrilled to see her.
“It’s so good to see you, too,” she said, not bothering to rein in her sarcasm. The ugly combination of heartbreak and sexual frustration tended to make her grumpy.
“What’s the deal? Are you here to try and talk me into playing another round of Mission Marriage?”
Clearly he’d rather play with pygmy cannibals. Still, if she thought it’d get him into bed one more time, it might be worth rounding up a few short, hungry tribesmen.
As if she were starving herself and he was a feast, she stared at him. He only looked better now than he had when he’d told her he loved her. Given that he’d followed that declaration up by deeming them impossible, she shouldn’t want to wrap her arms around that hard torso of his and squeeze.
“Sage?” he prompted impatiently.
“No more missions,” she said. Then, pressing her lips together to keep them from shaking, she forced herself to say, “Actually, I’m here to break our engagement.”
His eyes widened and for just a second he looked shocked. Hurt, even. Then he shook his head as if trying to dislodge her words.
“Break our engagement? The fake one?”
Sage sniffed. For a man who didn’t do sarcasm very often, he was very good at it.
“Well, it’s only fake to you and I,” she pointed out. She tried to smile, but could only manage a tilt of her lips.
“But not to your father.”
No. Her tilt fell away. But her father wouldn’t want her to ruin Aiden’s life by living a lie. Nor would he want her to be miserable spending her days and nights wishing that lie were real. Sage had been in—and out of—a lot of relationships. She’d thought herself in love at least a half-dozen times over the years. Now she knew better. With those, she’d easily gotten over the relationship within a week, easily able to ignore or dislike the beau in question.
But not Aiden. Despite his being the only person to ever break her heart, she couldn’t feel badly toward him. Since ignoring him was proving impossible, too, she knew she needed to take drastic steps if she was going to get on with her life.
Her long, blissless life.
“I know we went into this for my father, but it’s served its purpose,” she told him.
“The purpose was to provide your father a positive focus to help him get through treatments, to assist in his healing. How has that changed?”
Sage combed her fingers through her hair, wanting to tug on the long strands to relieve some of the frustration. This should be easy. She breaks up, he smiles in gratitude, they go their separate ways. Why was he arguing with her?
“Look, our engagement was good for my dad’s spirits. But it’s bad for you,” she reasoned. There. Logic. Aiden should love that.
“How? I’m here, you’re up there with your dad. I’m not seeing where this is a major pain in my ass.”
Sage wanted to ask if missing her like crazy was a pain in his ass, but was afraid to hear that he hadn’t missed her enough to even feel a twinge.
Stick with the plan, she told herself. She straightened her spine, pretending it was made of steel instead of mush, and took a deep breath. Get this done and get home.
“How many calls have you had from my father that included hints about leaving the service? Or beyond hints, that straight-out painted a picture of the happy professor life he’s putting together for you.”
He didn’t have to say anything. The truth was right there on his face. He shrugged, though.
“I’m a big boy, Sage. I can deal with hints, requests and nagging just fine.” He narrowed his eyes. “You came down here to
break up with me because your dad is nagging? Ponied up plane fare, flew to San Diego, rented a car, finagled your way onto base. All to tell me that our make-believe engagement isn’t working for you anymore.”
He made it sound so stupid. And maybe if it’d just been the nagging, he’d have a point. But it was more. It was her peace of mind. Still, Sage couldn’t resist correcting him.
“Actually, I borrowed Dad’s car and drove down. I-5 is boring, but a pretty easy trip.” At his dead-eyed stare, she blew out a breath, then lifted both hands in the air. “Don’t you think breaking up by email is the epitome of tacky? And something that, if intercepted, would ruin the entire engagement mission. Don’t you guys have rules against that kind of thing?”
“Sage?”
After a deep sigh, she pushed one hand through her hair, then shrugged.
“We need to end this. That’s the only way we can get past it.” Before he could argue, and he had a good one, she could tell from the stubborn look in his eyes, she held up one hand. “I don’t want us to be a mess, Aiden. This whole thing, it got out of hand. If it keeps going, we’re never going to be able to be friends again. We’ll lose each other for good.”
And she couldn’t stand that thought.
She could deal with not having him in her bed. She could handle him not loving her. But she couldn’t live without him in her life, even if it was just as a distant friend again.
“My dad’s nagging has to be a distraction. And that’s on top of you already being worried about his health. Drama between us will only cause you more stress, mess with your head. I don’t want to be responsible for any of that.” She swallowed hard and shrugged. “I couldn’t live with myself worrying what that’d do to you. To your performance.”
“So you’re doing this for my, what? Safety? Peace of mind?” He shook his head, giving her an icy look. “Do you have a pacifier and baby blanket in that big purse of yours, too?”
“I’m sorry.”
His glare was fierce, but she lifted her chin and stood her ground. After a solid, miserable minute-long stare-out, he finally sighed, rubbing both hands over his face.
