The Soldier's Wife

by Sirena N. Robinson

  “You’re going to have the headache from hell in the morning. I hope you know that.” He stripped off her socks and briefly debated removing her jeans before deciding to spare them both the discomfort.

  Reaching for the throw blanket folded on the end of the bed, Murphy tucked it around Beckett and lifted her slightly to get a pillow under her head. Her eyes fluttered open and she stared up at him, her intense green eyes locking onto his tawny brown. Before Murphy could shift back from her, Beckett’s hands clamped onto the back of his skull and she fastened her mouth on his, the taste of wine and salsa pungent on her lips.

  She kissed him deeply, her mouth avid on his. When Murphy didn’t immediately respond, she flicked her tongue against his lips, groaning when he parted them slightly, allowing her access. The taste of her flooded him and she tightened her grip on his head, pulling him down even further as she deepened the kiss. When he returned it, his mouth hesitant and unsure on her own, she pulled back, staring up at him with alcohol-dulled eyes and looking confused.

  “Murphy, I…” Beckett trailed off and looked around the room. Whatever else she had been planning to say disappeared, and, with one apologetic look, she leaned over the edge of the bed and threw up.

  Jumping back as vomit splashed on his shoes and up the legs of his jeans, Murphy sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers. Damning Caleb for having decided to walk home to clear his head, he carefully stepped around the puddle and heaved Beckett from the bed, half-carrying, half-dragging her to the bathroom.

  As he ran a cloth under the sink to wash her up the best he could, Murphy cursed Ryan for having put them in the situation and Caleb for leaving him alone with it.

  Chapter 5

  Beckett woke to discover a marching band had taken up residence inside her head. Squinting against the bright light spilling in from the curtains, she fumbled for the aspirin and water some kind soul had left for her. Swallowing the two tablets with a gulp of water, she stumbled from bed and stood next to it, staring down at the floor.

  Oh God. She’d puked on Murphy. Her eyes widening, she clapped her hand over her mouth. She’s puked on Murphy after kissing him. Closing her eyes in embarrassment, she searched her brain for more humiliating memories. Finding none, she stumbled into the bathroom to wash her face and brush her teeth. She peeled off the clothes that smelled like a nauseating mixture of bourbon and vomit, stepped into the shower, and scoured herself.

  Once dressed in thin cotton pants, a tank and a summer-weight robe, Beckett wandered downstairs to the sound of her children laughing. Expecting to find them giggling in front of the television, she glanced in the living room and found it empty, all remnants of her drunken night gone.

  Moving into the kitchen, she stopped short when she found Murphy at the stove, flipping pancakes. Harlow was dancing around him in a blue princess dress, and Rhys was methodically setting the table. Murphy had stripped off his plaid button-down shirt and was clad in a black t-shirt stretched tight over his chest. His jeans were unbuttoned, and his feet were bare. Beckett’s mouth watered.

  “Morning, sleepyhead. We’re almost done cooking breakfast. Feel up to eating?”

  Rhys looked up from the table. “Uncle Murphy said you got sick and that’s why he slept on the couch last night. We might have jumped on him this morning to wake him up. Maybe.”

  Murphy grinned and plowed one hand through his hair to shovel it back from his face. “I might have enjoyed it. Maybe.” Ruffling his nephew’s hair, he turned off the burner and moved the platter of pancakes to the table. “I made mini-pancakes so little princesses don’t need help eating them.”

  Harlow beamed up at her uncle. “I loves you.”

  Smiling at the slight mistake, Murphy boosted her up into her chair. “I loves you, too.” He grinned at Beckett. “You never answered me. Do you think you can eat?”

  Beckett cleared her throat. “Can I talk to you upstairs for a minute?”

  “Sure.” He glanced at the kids. “No messes. I’ll be right back down.”

  Walking up the stairs, Beckett led him into her bedroom.

  Lifting his eyebrows when she closed the door behind them, he stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Am I in trouble for something?”

  Beckett smiled despite herself. “Should you be?”

  “Probably, but I’m gonna go with no.”

  “I wanted to thank you for cleaning up last night. I’m pretty sure you had to scrub vomit out of the carpet while I was inevitably snoring and drooling completely unattractively. You cleaned up downstairs so the kids wouldn’t know what I was doing, and you took care of them so I could sleep. It’s way more than I could have asked for. So, thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. Now pancakes?”

  Laughing at his eagerness to eat, she shook her head. “I also wanted to apologize to you for throwing up all over you and for basically molesting you. You didn’t deserve to have me attack you like a drunken frat boy, and I’m sorry.”

  “Drunken frat boy?” He grinned. “Interesting visual.”

  “In all seriousness, I hope you can forgive me. My behavior was atrocious.”

  Sobering, he looked at her seriously, his gaze boring into hers. “Why did you do it?”

  “Do what?”

  “Kiss me. Why did you kiss me?”

  Beckett held up her hands. “I have a vague memory of you tucking me in. I was staring up and you, and you were being so kind and gentle and you looked handsome and I just got this intense urge to kiss you. And, well, I was drunk off my ass and had no self-control. So I did.”

  Murphy dropped down onto the side of the bed. “I kissed you back.”

  “You were drunk.”

  “Not nearly drunk enough I didn’t know what I was doing.” He shoved his hair back again. “Will you be offended if I tell you I never thought of you that way?”

  Beckett shook her head. “No. No, I’m not offended.”

  “You surprised me last night, but it didn’t gross me out. I always thought I loved you like I would a sister, but it didn’t feel like you were my sister last night. This is weird, and I know it’s weird, but I’m having problems sliding you back into the sister slot this morning.”

  Crossing her arms defensively across her chest, Beckett stared at Murphy. She coached herself to apologize again, to say it had been a mistake, to say she didn’t think of him that way. She tried to force herself to tell him to leave, that they would talk later. But what came out of her mouth was not even close to what she carefully told herself to say.

  “I’m not your sister.”

  “No, you’re not. I kissed you back.”

  She stepped forward, sliding between his legs and reaching for his hands, lifting them in her own. She knew his hands well, had held them on many occasions, casually grabbing one as they walked or when he helped her up. She’d clung to him while in labor, depending on him to help her through it. Never before had she wondered how those hands—rough and scarred from years working on cars—would feel on her body. Just the thought of it sent warmth pooling in her gut and made her stomach flip.

  “What’re you doing, Beck?” Murphy tipped his head back to look at her, his eyes searching hers for answers she didn’t have.

  “The hell if I know.”

  “Good enough for me.”

  He stood, wrapping his hands around hers and lifting her arms to drape around his neck. Cupping her cheek in one palm, he dragged his thumb across her mouth. She looked up at him, lifting her hand to cover his, giving them both one more chance to change their minds, to back off from the precipice they were on.

  “Tell me no. Tell me to stop. Tell me to go.” His voice was ragged and slightly desperate.

  “I can’t. I don’t want to,” she whispered. “Yes. Don’t stop. Stay.”

  He slipped his free arm around her waist, pulling her into his body. Slowly, he dipped his head and laid his mouth on hers.

  Beckett couldn’t possibly count the number of time
s she’d kissed Murphy. A peck on the cheek, enthusiastic but chaste smack on the mouth, a soft kiss pressed to a forehead. Not even once had one of those kisses done to her what him laying his mouth over hers with the intent of really, truly kissing her did.

  Heat sizzled and flashed, rising up to engulf them both. She tipped her head to the side, parting her lips and pressing her mouth firmly against his. Her hands slid into his hair, slipping through the silky strands and clutching them tightly. Her stomach flipped end over end, knotting and twisting itself into a wriggling mass of nerves and excitement.

  Murphy’s grip on her waist tightened, and his hand trailed from her cheek to the curve of her neck, his fingers caressing the soft skin there. With hesitation, he deepened the kiss, his tongue brushing against hers. Beckett made a mewling noise deep in her throat and tightened her arms around his neck. He moved one hand from her waist to the slope of her butt, pressing her hips into his, the hard ridge of his penis pressing firmly into the softness of her belly.

  Beckett groaned and pressed herself against him, her hands sliding down to grip his shoulders. Their mouths moved together faster, the kiss spiraling out of control. She reached for the hem of his shirt, dragging it up and splaying her palms on the planes of his chest.

  “Mom! Harlow bit me!”

  “Only because Rhys bit me first! Uncle Murphy!”

  Murphy drew back just enough to talk. “Sounds like duty calls.”

  Beckett smiled against his mouth. “It always does.” She took a step back, pulling her robe tight across herself. “Murph…”

  “Don’t say anything just yet. Let’s take a little time to think it over. Caleb called this morning. Mom and Dad are taking the heathens for the afternoon, and the three of us will go talk to this Savannah. Whatever else is going on can wait until we figure that part out.” He reached out and grazed his fingertips across her cheek. “I hope you know this was never my intention.”

  “Mine, either.” She leaned into his hand slightly. “Okay, we’ll think about it and talk after things get settled.”

  ****

  Later that afternoon, Beckett found herself in the elevator at the Wiltshire Inn, sandwiched between Murphy and Caleb. Murphy leaned against the wall of the car, his legs crossed at the ankle, and his hip just brushing against hers. Caleb stood on her other side, his eyes glued to the doors, the slip of paper with Savannah’s information clutched in one hand and Beckett’s hand held firmly in the other.

  The doors slid open and they stepped out together, Caleb leading the way down the hall to the room number printed neatly on the stationary. Without giving any of them time to second-guess the decision, he lifted his hand and rapped smartly on the door.

  Savannah opened it and stepped back in surprise when she saw Beckett. Rubbing her hands on the legs of her jeans, she cleared her throat nervously before speaking.

  “I wasn’t expecting you so quickly, and not with so much backup.” Savannah stepped into the hall, pulling the door closed behind her, holding it only slightly open with one foot. “Lyla is watching a movie in the bedroom. If there’s going to be any screaming or yelling, I’d prefer we do this when I can make some arrangements to have her somewhere else, and that would take me a few minutes.”

  Beckett shook her head. “I don’t anticipate screaming or yelling. This is Murphy and Caleb. They’re two of Ryan’s brothers. Jackson, the youngest brother, is out of town until next week.”

  “I know who they are. They look just like him.” Savannah held out a hand to Caleb, then to Murphy. “I’m Savannah Montgomery. I go by Savi, if you care about such things.” She glanced over her shoulder. “Come on in. I can order some coffee from room service, and I’ll show you what I have.”

  “We’re going to want DNA.” Caleb brushed past the woman and into the room, standing stiffly in the middle of the combination living area and kitchenette. “Some indisputable proof she’s his.”

  Savi closed the door and went to the closet, opening it and drawing down a box. “I don’t blame you for wanting that, or for anything you’re feeling. I can only imagine what you’re all going through. I didn’t come here to disturb anyone’s life. I hate that I am, but I also feel these kids deserve to know one another.”

  Save took a deep breath and held the box against her chest, staring down at it for a long moment. When she looked up, her brows were drawn together and her eyes betrayed the turmoil she was feeling.

  “I told Beckett, and I’ll tell both of you the same thing. I’m not here for money. I have money.” She held the box in her hands for another moment before extending it toward Beckett. “I’m also not here to rub Lyla in your face. She’s not my daughter, and my sister was a piss-poor person most of her life. Elaina may not have known your brother was married, but it wouldn’t surprise me if she did. She wouldn’t have cared, and I’m sorry.”

  Murphy cast a glance at his brother. “Dude, I kinda like her.”

  Caleb glared. “We’ll reserve judgment until we have the proof.” He looked pointedly at the box and held out one hand. “Is that what you told Beckett about?”

  Savi met Beckett’s gaze. “I think you should be the one to see it. He was your husband, and there are some pretty intimate things in there.”

  Beckett took the box and sat down at the desk, her heart pounding in her throat as she opened the lid. Piles of photos and letters were stacked on top of one another. She thumbed through the contents, finding Lyla’s birth certificate at the bottom. Staring at the slip of paper, she looked up at Caleb and Murphy, her eyes swimming with tears.

  “That’s Ryan’s signature. He signed the birth certificate. He thought she was his.”

  Caleb crossed his arms stubbornly. “Thinking a baby is his and knowing it is are two different things. No offense meant, ma’am, but if your sister was as bad as you say she is, there’s no telling how many men may have been Lyla’s biological father.”

  Savi held up her hands. “I wish I could argue with you. Elaina had her problems and made more than her fair share of mistakes, but in this case, I think she loved him. I know that’s not what you want to hear. She’d been involved with married men before, and I guarantee you she made damn sure all their wives knew about it. She didn’t tell anyone about Captain McKenzie. I’d like to think that’s because she truly loved him.”

  Beckett gently picked up a photo depicting her husband standing next to a hospital bed, staring down lovingly at a pretty woman holding a tiny baby. Her heart twisted in her throat, and she fought the urge to rip the photo.

  “He never saw either of our children born. He never held them in the hospital or got to take them home. But he did for her. He was there for her.” Beckett slapped the desk in frustration. “Have you read the letters?”

  “I have.”

  “When did they start?”

  “Some don’t have dates on them, but I’ve ordered them as close to chronological as I could. From the things he mentions in them, it looks like they started dating very soon after he arrived in Georgia, which would have been about seven years ago, give or take. Lyla was born in September, meaning Elaina got pregnant in December or January.”

  “I got to Georgia in April. She was already pregnant when I got there. Dammit, Ryan!” Beckett scrubbed her hands over her face. “He deployed in February…he was juggling two families for five months. Harlow was born in November, so the girls are fourteen months apart.” She closed her eyes and did math in her head. “Jesus Christ, we’d barely been married for two years when he had to have met her and started sleeping with her. My God, what kind of man was I married to?”

  Caleb paced the room. “We still don’t know for sure. Maybe Ryan made a mistake and slept with her then she told him the baby was his; he’d have wanted to do the right thing, even if what felt right was wrong. He’d have been there for her. We don’t know how honest this person was about everything. We need the DNA test.”

  Murphy cleared his throat. “You say you’re not here for money, an
d that’s fine and dandy because none of us have any to give you, but I find it hard to believe you packed up your life and came here on the off chance we’d be willing to talk to you. You could have just as easily come here and gotten a door slammed in your face.”

  “I could have.” Savi perched on the couch and crossed her legs. “I was hoping I wouldn’t get that greeting. When Elaina died, I was going through some things in my own life and needed a fresh start. Being responsible for her gave me the guts to make the changes I needed to. Lyla’s starting kindergarten this year, so I need to enroll her in school somewhere, and I figured I’d take a chance and come here.”

  She paused to look at each of them in turn, her gaze hesitant and unsure. When no one spoke for several moments, she continued, her voice trembling slightly.

  “I planned to enroll her in Trenton and start looking for a house to rent until I can figure stuff out. Money’s not the issue. I stand by what I said. These three kids are siblings and deserve to know each other. If you want DNA, we’ll do it. If Elaina was lying and Lyla isn’t your husband’s, then you don’t ever have to hear from me again. But if she is, I want her to be part of your family.”

  “You don’t even know us.” Murphy straightened and regarded Savi levelly. “You don’t know if we’re good people or not. You don’t know whether we abuse our wives and beat our children. You know nothing about us other than your sister slept with our brother. How can you be sure you aren’t coming to a bad situation?”

  “Because I know how to research, Mr. McKenzie. I wasn’t about to bring my niece into a bad situation. You’re the owner of an auto shop in Trenton.” Savi turned to Caleb. “I know your brother here is a teacher at the high school and you both coach football. I know where you went to college, neither of you have criminal records, and neither of you are married or have children. I looked into you all.” Savi cocked her head, listening to the television in the other room. Satisfied Lyla was still watching cartoons, she turned back to Beckett. “I know it’ll take time to learn to trust me, but I only have the best intentions. Do you want to meet Lyla?”