* * * *
Chris watched Callie and Rebecca stumble from a cab and fling a handful of cash through the window. He shook his head in pity for the driver. Callie and Rebecca were oblivious, their arms around each other for support. Their laughter was loud and so happy that Chris struggled to maintain his stern visage.
The two women blended their voices in a classic drinking song as they walked toward the door. “How dry I am! Hiccup!” They sang the same line repeatedly, faking their hiccups until Rebecca stopped and slurred, “Hey, that’s the only line I know.”
Callie actually hiccupped and looked around thoughtfully. “What about this one?” She grinned and her entire face lit up.
“You take the high road—” Rebecca joined Callie’s raucous singing at this point, “—and I’ll take the low road, and I’ll get to Scotland afore ye…”
Their fake Scottish accents made Chris cringe; as they approached the door, he swung it wide to allow Callie to enter. Callie placed a wet kiss in the center of his chest as she walked by and then continued inside, dragging her hand along the wall for balance. He watched her until she collapsed on the sofa and turned to Rebecca.
“I’ll walk you to your door, drunkard.”
“Hey!” Rebecca punched him playfully on the arm. “I am not a drunkard.” She frowned and leaned against him. Chris took her arm as they walked across the lawn, trying to keep her upright. “Well, maybe I am tonight.”
Chris rolled his eyes and steadied Rebecca as she dug through her purse for keys. “Need some help there, Red?”
Rebecca made a face as she pulled her keys out. “Ugh, don’t call me ‘Red’. I believe I’ve asked you that before.”
“Yep, you sure have.” Chris grinned at her and leaned down to whisper conspiratorially, “But you’re not going to remember this tomorrow, so I’m going to take advantage of it.”
Rebecca shoved Chris away and sneered at him. Chris didn’t take offense. He and Rebecca had a back and forth insult game going on that neither of them was serious about. It was all in good fun.
“Are you also going to take advantage of my drunken friend?” Rebecca opened her door and slipped inside before turning to look at him.
Chris grinned at her again. “You bet your ass I am.” No way was he going to pass up a drunk, inhibition-free romp with Callie. Hell no.
Rebecca gave a short bark of laughter and slammed the door in his face. “Get to it then!” Her voice was muffled through the door, and Chris shook his head with a laugh before turning back toward Callie’s side of the duplex.
When Chris got back inside, Callie was sitting on the couch, frowning down at her feet.
“I kind of like whore-red,” she murmured.
Whore red? Chris lifted an eyebrow and looked at her feet. Oh, red toenail polish. Before Callie even acknowledged his presence, Chris scooped her up and carried her to the bedroom.
Callie laughed and gave him a seductive little smile that made his cock twitch in his pajama pants. “My hero,” she crooned, running her fingertips across his chest.
Chris used his foot to push open the bedroom door and tossed Callie on the bed. She landed with a laugh and immediately rose to her knees and began stripping.
“That’s right, baby. Show me those tits.” Chris shoved the pajama pants down, kicked them off, and climbed onto the bed. He groaned when Callie swung her bra in a circle over her head, her heavy breasts swaying and bouncing. Jesus.
“Oh! Wait!” Callie stopped swinging the bra when Chris jerked her against him. He groaned. She’d stopped him an instant before it was too late. He muffled a curse against her neck.
“What is it, baby?” Chris honestly didn’t care, but Callie obviously did, so he waited, his hands clenched on her ass, for her to tell him whatever it was that was on her mind.
“You know Chief Davis, right? The guy that lost his leg?”
Davis? What the fuck? Chris pulled away and looked down at Callie. “Yeah,” he drawled, confused.
“He’s got a five-year-old kid!” Callie smiled up at him proudly, and Chris froze.
“Chief Davis? Mike Davis? He’s got a kid?” Chris tried to tamp down irritation over the fact that Davis’ love life was fucking with his own.
“Yup. Left Tara high and dry when she told him she was preggers.”
Preggers? What the fuck was preggers? Oh, pregnant. “Whoa, wait a minute.” Chris pulled away from Callie, a little pissed off that he wasn’t already balls deep, and it was Davis’ fucking fault. “Are you telling me that Chief Davis got a girl pregnant and left her? Knowing she was pregnant?”
Callie nodded drunkenly and struggled to stay upright. “Yup-yup. Her name’s Tara. She teaches pre-k at…uh, I don’t know which pre-k she teaches at. Butler? Polk?” Callie trailed off, and Chris waved a hand to stop her.
“It doesn’t matter where she teaches.”
“I guess not.” Callie frowned. “But I wish I could remember. Maybe it was Franklin.”
“It’s okay, Callie. Don’t worry about where the woman teaches. Are you absolutely certain it’s Chief Davis’ kid?”
Callie nodded vigorously, lost her balance, and sat down. “Oh yeah. I saw a picture! She looks just like him. The little girl. Not Tara. ’Cause that would be creepy, right? Looking just like your baby’s daddy.” Callie covered her mouth and giggled. “Baby’s daddy.”
Chris fought a smile at Callie’s drunken antics before he turned away and sat down, scrubbing a hand down his face. Fuck. Now I’ve got to fucking do something about it. He turned back to Callie when he heard a thump and blinked several times. She was lying across the bed, her eyes closed. He growled in frustration when she let out a loud snore. Yep, I’m gonna beat his one-legged ass.
Chris moved Callie gently to her side of the bed, slid in, and pulled up the blankets. He tugged her against him, wrapped one arm around her waist, and slipped the other one beneath her head. Now he was going to have to sleep with a case of goddamn blue balls.
Chapter 6
Tara woke up, memories of the night before coming to her slowly. She stretched and yawned, and thought idly that a glass of water sounded better than all the gold in the amazon. She sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed. The house phone rang loudly from the living room. So that was what woke her up. Glancing at the clock, Tara got up and padded into the living room to answer the phone. It could be almost anyone calling since it was ten thirty. She didn’t sleep in often, so on her one weekend a month without Maddie, she took advantage of the quiet and slept as late as her body wanted to.
“Hello,” she answered, her voice groggy and low.
“Good morning.” A rough, masculine voice replied from the other end of the phone.
Michael.
“Uh, hi, Michael.”
“You recognize my voice without having to see me!” Surprise and pleasure were clear in his tone. “I just wanted to call and make sure you weren’t going to renege on our conversation from last night.”
Their conversation? For a few seconds, Tara remained silent, confused. Then she remembered. Shit. She’d practically told him she wanted to try again. “Michael, I…”
“Because they might discharge me sometime this week, and I’d like to come see you. You’re not backing out, are you?”
“Michael, I had a lot to drink last night. I shouldn’t even have talked to you, much less made promises.” She rubbed her forehead, sure that the slight hangover she had might not give her a headache, but this conversation probably would.
Michael was silent on the other end for several heartbeats. “Tara,” his voice caressed her name, “alcohol is called truth serum for a reason.”
She remained quiet, thoughtful.
“Can I at least come by when they turn me loose? I don’t know when it’ll be. Hell, I don’t even know if they’ll let me leave. My physical therapist started my discharge paperwork this morning, but I still have to get a release from the psychiatrist.” He spoke hesitantly, softly.
“I’d like to meet Madelynn and see you.”
“Of course you can come by. Just…” Tara hesitated. “Just let me know, okay? I’ve never brought a man around Madelynn before, and she won’t know what to think.”
“It may take me a couple of days to get there. I’ll be flying Space A, not commercial, and I don’t know when I’ll be able to get a flight.”
“Where will you stay when you get here?” He would have to stay somewhere until he could find an apartment or a house, and it was certainly not going to be with her. Tara made a mental note to pick up a real estate guide at the supermarket this week.
“I’ll get a hotel room or something. I’ll have to find out where they put my car in storage so I can get it, but until then, I guess I’ll rent one,” he said thoughtfully.
“Are you coming back here on a permanent basis?” She’d just taken it for granted that he would, but now that Michael was getting discharged he could go anywhere. Maybe he’d come visit and then head back to Cincinnati to live. Tara remembered that was where he was from.
Michael was silent a long moment before responding, “I don’t have anywhere else to go. Everyone I have in the world is right there. You, Maddie, the team.”
Tara’s heart skipped a beat. He’s completely alone. I’ve never been that alone. “Then come here. I’ll find you an efficiency hotel until you can get an apartment.”
Silence. “Thank you, Tara. It means a lot that you would help me out.” In a rough voice he said, “I need to go. The nurse is due to come in anytime.”
“Okay. I guess I’ll talk to you later then.” Tara clenched the phone and pressed it hard against her ear. On one hand, she wanted to continue their conversation, hear his voice just a few more minutes. On the other hand, she wished he hadn’t called at all. It was ridiculously confusing.
“Bye Tara.”
The phone clicked and she replaced it on its charger. How did he get my number? Tara hadn’t thought to ask, but her home number was listed, so it was possible Mike had just looked it up online or called information.
Conflicted, she went in the kitchen and turned on the faucet to fill her coffee pot. She poured in the water and measured out the coffee grounds on autopilot. Tara knew Michael’s parents had been killed when he was young, and he’d been raised by an elderly grandmother. If he didn’t have anyone else, that meant his grandmother had passed away. He really was alone. The SEAL team would support him and remain in touch, but Michael wouldn’t be a part of it anymore. Other than that, he probably didn’t have anyone he considered a close enough friend to warrant a move to their location.
Since he was talking to her, Tara assumed there hadn’t even been a girlfriend left behind. If there had been a girlfriend, she was either out of the picture or the biggest bitch in the world since he’d said more than once he had no one else to talk to. Not to mention he wanted them to try again as a couple. Michael was a lot of things but not a cheater.
He’s going to want something. Especially after you practically told him last night that you did too.
Did she want something else from Michael besides a weekend father for Maddie? The coffeemaker dinged, indicating that her morning fuel was ready for consumption. Tara absently poured herself a cup and liberally added creamer. She wasn’t worried about a relationship developing between him and Madelynn. Maddie was an amiable little girl, and Tara didn’t think there would be a problem with a bond forming after a while. The problem, she mused, was that she might also form a bond. Michael may be a changed man, but was it even possible for her to move beyond the past? Would Tara ever be able to watch Maddie and Michael together and not remember that he hadn’t even acknowledged Maddie’s existence? Would she be able to take a chance that he wouldn’t revert back to his old ways once he was more adjusted and less fragile?
Tara had seen men in her father’s units with major injuries. She knew they were vulnerable for sometimes years afterward. Would Michael gradually adjust and years down the road change his mind about wanting to have a family? It was possible he’d truly changed and that he would live the rest of his life without ever going back to the way he was. But was that a chance Tara was willing to take? She sipped her coffee thoughtfully. Sighing, she walked into the living room, sat on the couch, and turned on the news.
Tara couldn’t make a judgment call yet. It wouldn’t be fair to anyone. Once Michael had been around for a while, she would decide whether or not he was safe to get involved with. Tara sipped her coffee, trying not to burn her tongue. She closed her eyes and leaned back, trying to wipe her mind. She wanted to relax and have a conflict-free day, and she couldn’t do that if she was thinking about Michael. So Tara banished him from her thoughts as she turned her attention to the television.
Melinda brought Madelynn home around five o’clock that afternoon. Tara admitted grudgingly that she had specified after church but not how soon after church. Melinda handed Tara a bag from KFC as she came in the door. Madelynn trudged back to her room, mumbling something about how she’d rather spend the week at Grandma’s than go to school.
“I brought dinner for you guys. I’ve got to get back home, though. Your dad will eat a sandwich for dinner if I don’t take him something, and then he’ll get up in the middle of the night to eat again.” Melinda pulled paper plates from the cabinet and set out two places for Tara and Madelynn. “Did you have a good time with the girls this weekend?”
“Of course.” Tara hugged Maddie and ruffled her hair as she came into the dining room and sat down. “I missed my baby more, though.”
Maddie looked insulted. “Mommy, I’m not a baby. I’m a big girl. I know my ABCs and I can count to twenty-four. Sometimes I can count to twenty-five. I know my colors too.”
Melinda leaned down and kissed Maddie’s forehead. “Yes you can. But you will always be your mommy’s baby. Your mommy is still my baby.” Turning to Tara she said, “I’ll give you a call sometime this week. Don’t forget our Alaskan cruise sets sail in a week. I won’t be able to call from the boat, and we won’t be back for fourteen days.”
“Mom, I’m pretty sure the cruise ships have phones on them.” Tara had said this a thousand times since her mother had booked the cruise.
“Even so,” Melinda said, “I don’t think we’ll be making any phone calls.” She waggled her eyebrows at Tara and said, “We’ll be too busy.”
“Oh gross, Mom. Keep that to yourself.” No matter how old she got, Tara maintained her denial that her parents engaged in sex. It just seemed so…unnatural.
“Someday, Tara, you will be my age and discover that life still goes on after things begin to sag and turn gray.” Melinda called over her shoulder as she walked to the door.
“Sick, Mom!” Tara shuddered. “Bye, love you!”
“You too!” Melinda called as she closed the door.
Tara sat down at the table and spooned some mashed potatoes and cole slaw onto Madelynn’s plate, making sure nothing was touching. She dug in the box of chicken for a drumstick and handed it to Madelynn. Tara made herself a plate and took a bite of chicken, chewing thoughtfully.
“Mommy, what’s a damned jarhead?” Madelynn asked.
Tara choked. There was no need to ask where she’d heard that. Her father, a twenty-five-year Navy veteran, made it a point to insult any other branch of the military whenever possible. The only thing in question was who he was referring to. Michael was also a Navy vet, so it wasn’t him. Tara made a mental note to ask her mother next time she talked to her.
“Maddie, honey, it’s not nice to say that word.” Tara chastised gently.
“Jarhead?” Maddie asked, her eyes wide.
“No, the other one sweetie.” Tara resisted the urge to bury her face in her hands.
“Damned?” Maddie said innocently.
“Yes, honey. That’s not nice.” Tara took another bite of chicken and waited for Madelynn to remember her question.
“Then what’s a jarhead?” Maddie finally asked after a few bites o
f potatoes.
“It’s somebody that is in a different kind of military than Grandpa. They’re called Marines.” Tara answered.
“Okay,” Madelynn replied, happy with that answer. “Can I watch cartoons when I finish dinner?”
“No, you have to get a bath. You have school tomorrow. You can take a bath and then color before bed.” Madelynn’s bedtime was eight o’clock, and she usually spent at least thirty minutes in the bath before Tara forced her to get out.
“I’m full, Mommy. Can I go take a bath now?” Madelynn pushed her plate away.
“After I’m done, I’ll run a bath for you. Put your plate in the trash if you’re done, and put your spoon and cup in the sink.” Tara tried to make sure Madelynn picked up after herself. She didn’t want Maddie to grow up with no knowledge of basic housework skills and turn into a slob. And it was nice to have the help from time to time, even if Maddie’s chores were limited to picking up her toys and putting her books back on her bookcase. Maddie sat down and propped her chin on her hands.
“Mommy, what’s the matter?” she asked with the innocent perception only children have.
“I’m just a little confused about some grown-up things, honey. Nothing for you to worry about.” Tara finished her last piece of chicken and started cleaning off the table.
“Can I help, Mommy?” Madelynn asked, picking up the container of mashed potatoes and trying to fit the lid on.
“Yes, sweetie, you can help. Thank you.” Tara ruffled her hair, wondering how much longer Madelynn would be eager to help. She knew that the years of easy companionship with her daughter were getting fewer all the time. Madelynn would be a teenager in just eight short years, and it would be years after that before the teenage hormones died down enough for their camaraderie to return. She held open the refrigerator as Madelynn proudly placed the mashed potatoes on the shelf. Tara felt a twinge in her chest as she fondly scrolled through memories in her mind of the past five years.
Regardless of how she’d come about, Madelynn was the best and brightest thing in Tara’s life. That was something that couldn’t be bought. It was a gift, and Tara wanted to enjoy it as long as she could.
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