Forgive & Forget (Love in the Fleet)

by Ashby, Heather

  Not the lovemaking part. The soul-baring part.

  She banished it from her mind and focused on his pleasure. The moans that escaped him told her she was successful. She slid her hands down the backs of his calves, then traced the trail of his sciatic nerves up the sides of his legs to his increased groans.

  “Surely I’ve died and gone to heaven,” he mumbled, face in the carpet.

  “Not yet you haven’t,” Hallie said, laying his feet back on the rug and sliding up to sit on his rump. She leaned down and kissed the side of his neck, then whispered in his ear. “Not even close, Cowboy.”

  Hallie drizzled lotion on his back and rubbed it in, both hands working in tandem, thumbs tracing his vertebrae from butt to skull. She started at the bottom and, digging deeply, slid her way up, ending behind his ears. After kneading his shoulders, she went back to square one and glided her way back up again and again. Mumbled sounds of ecstasy were her reward.

  She switched to tracing his spine with her left thumb and forefinger, so she could unbutton her blouse. Slinking out of the right sleeve, she switched hands and shirked off the left sleeve too. It only took one pop of the front clasp of her bra to loosen her breasts and she slipped out of that as well. Now naked from the waist up, she resumed the upward slide of her thumbs, but leaned over and let her breasts follow the trail her thumbs forged.

  “Mmmm,” he mumbled. “This must be where the heaven part starts.”

  She slid her thumbs up his back once more, but this time she lay down and kissed his neck while her hands worked his biceps. “We’re almost to the pearly gates. Turn over.”

  Philip rolled, eyes still shut, a lazy smile sliding from one side of his five o’clock stubble to the other. Hallie slipped off her jeans and straddled him again. He obviously was enjoying more than a backrub. She leaned down to kiss his mouth, trailing her nipples across his bare chest. Philip took a breast in each hand, sliding his thumbs over the centers.

  She kissed him again then pulled away and nuzzled his neck. “You don’t smell like ship tonight. Did you shower before you left work?”

  “I did.”

  “Good.” She scooted down and began to lick his toes.

  Philip exhaled a rush of air.

  When Hallie finished with his toes, she kissed her way to his ankles. She loved his toes and his ankles and his knees and every square inch of this man. She loved the curls in his hair. She loved his smile and his muscles and the way his body worked when he swam butterfly or made love to her. She loved the way he thought, the way he cared, the way he laughed, the way he loved. She treasured everything about him and she could not bear to let him go.

  Without warning a dam burst inside and tears came out of nowhere. She grabbed him behind the knees and lay her head down in surrender.

  Philip bolted upright. “Hallie? What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

  She shook her head gently from side to side. No. Not okay. “I can’t do this.”

  He scrambled to his knees, wrapped his arms around her. “You don’t have to do anything, honey. Talk to me. What just happened? Did I do something wrong?”

  She rocked back on her knees. Avoiding his eyes, she reached for her clothing. “No, Philip. Trust me. You’ve done nothing wrong. Ever. I just—”

  She hooked her bra, reached for her shirt, then finally looked at him.

  “We need to talk.”

  Holy shit. Philip’s heart slammed in his chest. Cold fingers of uncertainly clutched at his gut. He grabbed his jeans. A man doesn’t want to get caught with his pants down, or off, when there’s a chance his ass is about to get dumped. “Honey, what’s wrong?”

  “I’m sorry. I can’t meet your parents.”

  Relief flooded him and he blew out the breath he was holding, but his hands still shook trying to get his foot into his jeans. “Is that what this is about? Don’t worry. They’ll love you.”

  She threaded her arms into the sleeves of her shirt. “I’m not what you need, Philip. You’re too good for me.”

  “What are you talking about? Is this about your parents not being married? It doesn’t matter. Times have changed.”

  Hallie continued, nonplussed. “And besides, you’re leaving next week. Maybe we should, you know, back off a little.”

  “What? After what we’ve shared for the past month you think we need to back off a little? Is this about your dad abandoning you or something?” He tripped over his pant leg, hopping around trying to get his physical and emotional equilibrium. “Hallie, I’ll be back. I’ve fallen hopelessly in love with you and I want you to wait for me. You know, write me. Email me. Send me care packages. Think of me while I’m gone. Come on,” He laughed self-consciously. “Every man in a foxhole needs a good woman to come back to.”

  “What?”

  “It’s just something my dad used to say to my mom when he deployed. Every guy needs a girl to think about when he’s deployed, Hallie, and I want it to be you.” He joined her on the sofa, but she wouldn’t look at him. “I’ve never felt this way about anyone in my life. I love you. I want to marry you.”

  He hadn’t really intended for that to come out of his mouth, but he damn well wanted her waiting on the pier when he returned from the cruise. If needing to propose to her would guarantee it, then he was not adverse to the idea. He’d feel more comfortable leaving Hallie McCabe with a ring on her finger than just sailing away and hoping no one else took his place while he was gone. So if proposing would do it, he was game.

  She continued to button her shirt, stoically looking straight ahead. “No. We can’t do that.”

  “Why not?” His pulse raced. His stomach churned. Jesus Christ, what was wrong?

  She slipped on her shoes, staring pensively at the floor. “Because I’m…”

  “You’re what?” He hoped he didn’t sound as desperate as he felt.

  “I’m…I’m…We just can’t.”

  And then Philip knew she wasn’t done. Because she turned to him, intensity radiating from her eyes, stabbing him point blank in the heart. “There’s something else, isn’t there?”

  She shook her head affirmatively, took a deep breath, and continued. “There are still things you don’t know about me…You see, I’m in…” She swallowed hard.

  “In what? Are you in trouble? In debt?” What the fuck was she trying to tell him? He’d fix it, whatever it was.

  Her tears erupted again and all the words flew out in a rush. “I’m in love with you but as much as I’ve tried to figure this thing out we just can’t be together anymore!”

  And she walked out the door.

  And out of his life.

  Leaving him in a minefield with red flags flapping every-where.

  Chapter 11

  The tugboats had begun the workhorse job of pushing and pulling the USS Blanchard from the safety of her berth, and were now turning her toward the center of the harbor channel on her path to the river and the open sea. No small feat considering she measured over a thousand feet and displaced close to ninety-thousand tons fully loaded.

  Many of the wives, husbands, girlfriends, boyfriends, parents, and children crowding the pier on that hot July morning were in tears as they waved goodbye, bidding farewell to their loved ones for the next six months. Probably more.

  The Blanchard would operate twenty-four seven at sea. Crewmembers would hold down the fort in the fully staffed hospital, one of the six galleys, the four workout centers, the two barber shops, chapel, bank, post office, library, two general stores, brig, television studio, water purification plant, or two nuclear reactors. All designed to support the airport on the four-and-a-half acre flight deck on her roof.

  The Blanchard’s primary mission was to provide a facility for aircrafts to launch and recover at sea in order to provide combat air operations while forward deployed. />
  Although only five percent of the crew would actually fly the aircraft, the jobs of the remaining ninety-five percent were there to support them with fortifying troops on the ground, protecting friendly shipping, deterring aggression, and defending freedom worldwide.

  Along with her five thousand trained sailors and airmen, the ship would soon embark about seventy aircraft with price tags of up to sixty million dollars each, making the USS Blanchard an example of the most complex and expensive fighting machine in the world.

  No other country possessed a vessel of this magnitude.

  The United States had ten.

  Eight hundred crewmembers, looking crisp in dress white Cracker Jack uniforms, their black neckerchiefs fluttering in the summer breeze, manned the rails of the flight deck as the tugs turned the carrier’s bulk one-hundred-eighty degrees before nosing her eastward toward the Atlantic Ocean. Two of the sailors did their best to keep their lips from moving while they talked in ranks. Petty Officers McCabe and Marini stood at parade rest: feet twelve inches apart, hands clasped in the small of their backs, chins high, chests out proudly. Lips barely moving.

  “Look at her. See the pregnant one on the pier who looks like she’s going to deliver, like, yesterday? I can’t believe they wouldn’t let her husband stay behind for the birth.”

  “Needs of the Navy, Gina. Needs of the Navy. At least he’ll get to be first off the ship when we return. I’ve always found that to be the most poignant Navy tradition, that the new dads are the first to disembark after a cruise. Makes me cry to see those guys meeting their children for the first time on a Navy pier. But I love that they get reunited with their families even before the Captain does. I guess rank doesn’t always have its privileges. And yay for that.”

  Gina tried to stifle her smile. “Yeah, but that guy’s kid will practically be walking when we get back. I still say it sucks.”

  “I wonder how many of those women out there won’t be on the pier when we return. Stuff can happen in six months.”

  “You’re one to talk. When are you planning to spill the beans to lover boy that you’re living on his ship in a sailor uniform?”

  Hallie’s overworked adrenal system kicked into an even higher gear. Maybe her head knew Philip would be down in the hole this morning, but her gut hadn’t gotten the memo. “I know. I know. I’m going to explain everything in a letter and send it through ship’s mail as soon as we’re truly underway. I wasn’t going to stress him out this week while he was getting the ship ready to leave.”

  “And smacking into you in a passageway wouldn’t stress the crap out of him? Let alone the poor guy thinking he’s done something wrong. Come on, girlfriend, you’re running out of excuses. If you really love the guy, you’ll do what’s best for him and write that letter ASAP.”

  A fist closed around Hallie’s chest making it difficult to breathe when she thought of him. Then it tangled with the guilt that rolled around in her gut. She was still kicking herself for chickening out that last night and not telling him the truth. But she was so ashamed, and couldn’t bear to see the hurt and disappointment on his face. Yeah, like he hadn’t looked hurt when she said it was over.

  She’d moved on board the ship that very night. Knowing his job would be uber-stressful until they pulled out, she did not want to upset him further by telling him until they got underway.

  Paranoid all week, she had rarely left the safety of Public Affairs, except to sleep in berthing or eat on the mess decks. She had simply performed her job, worked on her courses, and laid low. Hallie’s only foray to the outside had been to purchase some hair color. Her new light brown hair bought her a few more days before telling him the truth, but she couldn’t put it off forever. She felt like a selfish child after what she’d done to him.

  Trixie kept the berthing area informed of how Bill Gates had been a real pill lately—“because he obviously wasn’t getting any.” But it was way more than that. Hallie knew how empty she felt without him. She could only imagine what it was like for Philip, who didn’t even know why she’d walked away.

  And there was no way she could let him find out by accident. He deserved better. To just bump into her somewhere on the ship or for Trixie to casually mention her name one day was unacceptable.

  She would write the letter and explain everything.

  Tonight.

  Then he could go off by himself to read and digest it, and she wouldn’t have to witness his disappointment in her.

  The crowd continued to wave their flags and posters, but many of the well-wishers were disbanding. Probably headed home to start marking off days on the calendar until the Blanchard’s homecoming.

  Hallie flexed her knees inside her dress whites, a little trick she’d learned in boot camp to keep her circulation going. She turned her head ever-so-slightly to see the last of Naval Station Mayport. “This is pretty weird. Exciting, but weird, to know I’m not going to see U.S. land until after New Year’s.”

  Gina snorted in an attempt to keep from laughing. “Honey, you’re not going to see hardly any land until after New Year’s. See that big blue thing out there? That’s an ocean and that’s your new home. Welcome to haze gray and underway.”

  The crew didn’t know where they were headed. They assumed it was the Persian Gulf, but they never knew for certain. It depended on the whims of the President and the Secretary of Defense, and whatever was going on in the world on any particular day.

  Hallie knew in case of a natural disaster, the Blanchard could be at the scene in record time with her floating hospital, SAR and Med-Evac capabilities, water purification system, and the electricity from her two nuclear reactors. It boggled her mind that, aside from fuel for the aircraft, the Blanchard needed little to no fossil fuel to travel or perform all these tasks. Or fresh water either, since her Evaps could purify four hundred thousand gallons of seawater a day.

  Philip had told her he would be in charge of the plumbing and air conditioning systems for what was essentially a small city, with all the occupations needed for that small city to function.

  But most small cities didn’t need intelligence specialists, weapons handlers, bomb disposal teams, catapult experts, jet mechanics, search and seizure personnel, and checkers who walked around the town checking people’s living and working spaces to ensure nobody was using drugs or having sex.

  Having sex. Ha. Something Hallie McCabe wouldn’t be doing for a long, long time.

  “Now hear this. Now hear this,” called the Executive Officer over the 1MC communications system. “This is the XO. Very impressive departure. Thank you for setting such a professional tone on our first day at sea. Secure from manning the rails. All hands get in your working uniforms and turn to. That is all.”

  Gina reached for the sky, then bent and touched her toes. “Man, I thought he’d never release us.”

  The tugs were now guiding the Blanchard into the St. Johns River. Hallie watched the jetties slide by as she stretched. With a pang she realized it was the same river that she and Philip had sailed.

  “You’re thinking about him again. I can tell.”

  “Am not.”

  “Never bullshit a bullshitter. It’s written all over your face. Either go tell him you can’t live without him or cut him loose for good, but either way you gotta come clean with him.”

  It only took a few minutes for the carrier to clear the mouth of the river and head out into the open blue. Hallie looked back one more time to bid a silent goodbye to home.

  No. The USS Blanchard was her home now.

  She reached under the hem of her blouse and turned on the “brick” she had clipped to her waistband.

  The handheld radio squawked immediately. “McCabe, Marini,” said Chief Bernard. “Where in the hell have you two been? Go change and head up to the Admiral’s Bridge. You’ve been assigned to cover the ai
rcraft fly-on. Commander Scott wants you to collaborate on a story for the ship’s Facebook page. And hurry up. The helicopter squadrons are already airborne and due to land in thirty minutes.”

  Philip had grieved for Hallie for the past week. For what they’d had, or what he thought they’d had. He’d been miserable most of the time, and then he’d switch to steaming mad. His parents had come and gone, but his despair stayed put.

  He’d texted and emailed her but received no response. He had even dropped by Rebecca’s to talk with Hallie in person, but was told she’d moved. After a few days that’s exactly what he did too. There’d been so much to do on the Blanchard before they got underway, it was simpler to just move on board. And it helped to be out of that apartment where he and Hallie had shared so much together.

  A clean break.

  For the past week Philip had poured himself into his work, often taking his frustration out on his entire division. Trixie became so fed up with him that she called him on it. “Am I doing something wrong, sir?”

  When he told her no, she continued. “Well, you’ve been riding my ass lately like nobody’s business and I don’t know why. If I’m not performing like you want, then feel free to tell me. But if you’re on me just because you’re in a bad mood or something, then I have a right to be pissed and come in here and tell you.”

  He had to admit he admired this little pistol. She didn’t mince words and she knew how to take care of herself.

  “I’m sorry, Williams. You’re doing fine. I have no complaints. I had some bad news. That’s all. And I’m sorry if I’ve been taking it out on you. I appreciate your coming in here and bringing it to my attention.”

  Trixie almost blew him away when she suddenly turned all soft. “Everything okay? Anything I can do, sir?”