Hero - The Assignment: A Military Romance

by Parker, M. S.

  I pulled out my phone to try and sell the lie. When I looked at the screen, it took a few minutes for me to realize it was actually true. A line of four missed calls and Grandfather wasn't a man who was used to waiting.

  Shit.

  I immediately called him back. “Grandfather?” I asked as the crowd cheered the return of the band.

  “Leighton? Where are you?” I could hear the disappointment. “Never mind, just come to my office when you get home. I've got a late overseas conference call so I'll be up. We have something to discuss.”

  He hung up without waiting for me to respond, and I glared at the phone. From behind me, I heard the familiar giggle of a high Paris. I turned in time to see her collapse against the back of the booth. I stared at her for a moment, then started giggling as well.

  “Let's dance!” she said suddenly. She jumped up and grabbed my hand.

  “No, wait, I've got to go.” I frowned. “Where am I going?”

  Ricky was right behind me, and his arms slid around my waist, fingers brushing against the undersides of my breasts. “You're going up to the roof with me. I paid the bouncer to let us go up there.”

  He pressed his lips against the space below my ear. One hand slid up to cup my breast.

  I frowned despite the buzz I still had going on. He knew I hated it when he did that in public. I shifted so that his hand dropped back down. “No, I really have to go somewhere...home. I have to go home,” I said.

  “Come on, babe, I gotta have you.” He licked my earlobe. “On the roof. Imagine doing it with all of LA spread out below us.” He put his hand back on my breast and squeezed.

  I spun around and shoved him back. “I've told you before that's too far.”

  He held up his hands in a gesture of surrender. My buzz was gone, and I was just pissed now.

  “I've been summoned.” I suddenly didn't want to party anymore. I didn't want to see my grandfather, but he was as good an excuse as any. “Don't want to keep him waiting.”

  Ricky stared at me for a moment, then deliberately turned toward the blonde in a green dress hovering nearby. “Can't pass up the view, babe. I already paid the bouncer.”

  I watched as he staggered off in the direction of the green dress. My stomach churned as he leaned toward her, knowing exactly what he was whispering in her ear. I knew I could stop him. One little wave and I could have him following me up to the roof.

  Ricky caught my eyes as he hooked an arm over the blonde's shoulder. I waved, letting him know exactly how I felt.

  “Have fun with your drummer,” I said to Paris as I stepped past her.

  “Front man,” she said, dancing against the railing of the VIP lounge. Her dark brown waves brushed against her bare shoulders. “I think I'm going front man tonight.”

  “Well, have fun,” I said as I walked down the stairs to the side door, shooting off a text to my driver as I went. He appeared at the end of the alley before I reached it, and I took a small nap in the back of the town car as he drove me to my grandfather's house.

  I woke up when my driver paused for the large wrought-iron gates to open. I popped a strong mint in my mouth and shook out my curls, grimacing at the smell. The distinctive smoke clung to me. I supposed I could always tell my grandfather it was from the crowd. I doubted he'd believe me, but I didn't have much of a choice. The driver opened the car door, and then trotted up the steps to open the front door for me. I went inside and headed to the kitchen for a soda. I needed a moment to collect myself.

  “Leighton? Let's do this now before my call comes through,” Grandfather called from his office.

  I choked on the fizzy soda and trudged down the hallway to my grandfather's study, still coughing. He stood in the hallway holding the door open for me. I stepped past him, stiffening as he gave me a disapproving look. I stood in front of his desk and clung to my caffeinated soda, needing it to hold more than drink it.

  “Isn't it almost two in the morning?” I asked.

  “And Japan will be calling any minute,” he said, striding around his desk to face me. He was still dressed in his suit and tie, buttons done all the way up. Despite knowing that he'd been up since five this morning, he looked more awake than I felt.

  “Is everything okay? Is it Ian?” I asked. It hadn't even occurred to me that it could be my brother. An icy hand gripped my heart.

  “Ian is fine.” Grandfather gave me a steady look for a moment, and then continued, “In fact, I haven't been able to tell him yet, but his honorable discharge will be going through soon. He'll be able to come home by the end of the month.”

  I sipped my soda and thought about how I was supposed to react to the news. Ian was pretty much fully recovered from his injuries, and definitely happy to be back on base. I hadn't talked to him for a few weeks, but I knew he was ready to get back to his life in the army. He'd hate Grandfather pulling strings and getting him out of somewhere he really wanted to be.

  “When are you telling him?” I figured the question was a safe one.

  “Well, I would have told him tonight at a dinner I wanted to have, except I thought it should be a family celebration. Not hearing from you in days and not being able to track you down forced me to change my plans.”

  Shit.

  “Sorry,” I apologized. “I've been busy.”

  My grandfather's face darkened. “That might be true for all you tell me, but my sources have been telling me otherwise.”

  “Sources? Are you having me followed?” I asked. I knew my tone was bordering on disrespectful, but I was pissed, and I really felt like it was justified.

  “No, you're not subtle enough for me to need that,” Grandfather said. He crossed his arms, and I knew he was annoyed. He never crossed his arms otherwise. It ruined the line of the suit. “I simply paid a few of your favorite places to let me know when you come and go.”

  My mind raced over the last few days. Paris and I had accepted every invitation that had come our way and it was all a blur of parties, concerts, lavish dinners, and drinking. There were hotel rooms, restaurants, bars, and clubs that knew us by our first names, so keeping track wouldn't have been difficult. And I knew how people who worked at places like that viewed the people like me who didn't have to work for a living. Hell, I knew how my own grandfather looked at me.

  “Suffice it to say, I've not been happy with the reports I've received,” he said. “Since I can't seem to stop your bad decisions, I've decided to do something else.”

  Shit. Grandfather was the executor of my inheritance, and I was sure he could cut me off with one phone call.

  “I'll stay here tonight,” I said, hoping to placate him. “Let's invite Ian over for breakfast. He and I can make pancakes, just like we used to. Then you can tell him the great news about his honorable discharge.”

  Grandfather blinked at my rapid change of subject, and then his eyes narrowed for a moment before his expression softened. “You don't have to pretend I don't know how Ian feels. Despite what you think, I don't want you or your brother to be unhappy. I just want to do what's best for you.”

  I sighed. He always used that line. “Ian loves the army. He always talks about how proud our parents would've been of him. He's not going to want to leave.” It was pointless to try to argue. “Besides, what's he going to do instead?”

  “Ian is going to go to college.”

  Well, that was predictable. Which meant I knew what was coming next.

  He didn't disappoint. “One of you has to plan for your future. One of you has to take some responsibility.”

  My temper flared. “You want me to go to college? Fine, I'll sign up for online classes tomorrow. Whatever.”

  He slammed his hands down on the desk, making me jump. “What I want is for you to be safe during what I'm hoping is a phase.”

  I bit my tongue. Instead of saying any of the things that came to mind, I sipped my soda and waited. I'd already lost my temper once.

  “Remember how your brother said a Special Forces
operative saved his life?”

  “Yes?” I asked, confused by the change of subject.

  “I wanted to find some way to repay him for such a selfless act.”

  “Didn't you have him shipped to Cedar-Sinai when you found out he was in a coma?” I asked.

  “Yes.” He sounded pleased that I remembered. “But, as it turns out, he's also in need of a job and I've hired him.”

  “Sounds good. I'm glad,” I said. I was, sort of. I didn't know the guy, but he saved my brother's life and that meant more to me than anything else.

  “Excellent.”

  Okay, that wasn't the sort of response I was expecting. How else should I have responded to hearing that my grandfather was going to help the guy who saved my brother's life?

  “I'm happy you'll cooperate.”

  My head jerked up. Cooperate?

  “You'll be safe with him as a bodyguard, because even if I don't know where you are, I'll know how to reach you. And our hero will get a well-paid and much-needed job.”

  Was he fucking kidding me?

  “You hired a babysitter?” I asked. I was so angry that my voice was shaking.

  “A bodyguard. It's the best thing for all of us,” Grandfather said as he opened the door to his office.

  My head was spinning, but I was moving toward the doorway before I could process it. Habit. I turned once I was in the hallway, my mouth already open to argue.

  His phone rang before I could say a word, and he gave me a rare smile. “I'm glad we got that settled.”

  Settled? I thought as the door closed in my face. No fucking way. Hero or not, there was no way I was going to let someone settle into a well-paid position as my babysitter. I couldn't get him fired, and I didn't want him to quit since he needed the job. I did, however, need to figure out a way to get him to request another position.

  But first, I thought as I texted my driver, I was going to enjoy my freedom while I still had it.

  Chapter 8

  Leighton

  It was easy enough to find Paris when I returned to the club. She was dancing on stage with the front man of the band gyrating next to her. She motioned for me to join her, but my grandfather's news had shocked me completely sober. Not only did he think me incapable of going to college or doing anything useful with my life, my grandfather had now decided I couldn't even be trusted to take care of myself. I knew Paris would find the idea of me trailing around a bodyguard hilarious, but I wasn't ready to make fun of it yet.

  I need a drink, I thought.

  The VIP Lounge bouncer still recognized me, so I slipped past his appreciative smile and headed for the bar. Ricky's tab was always open so I ordered myself a bottle of champagne. Ignoring the bartender's offer to join me, I took the bottle and leaned against a high top table overlooking the pulsing dance floor. I didn't want company just yet.

  “You gonna drink that all by yourself?” a young man in a loose suit asked.

  “You already have a drink or had, anyway.” I frowned down at my splashed shoes. “You're spilling most of it.”

  “I can't help it,” he said, trying to give me a charming grin. “You knocked me off balance.”

  I gave him a dismissive look. “Maybe it's a good thing the rest of your drink is gone.”

  It didn't even faze him. He pushed up his sleeves and settled against the table next to me. The bouncer took a step forward, but I shook my head. In the back of the room I saw Ricky appearing from a narrow door with the blonde in a green dress. Maybe company is what I needed.

  “All right,” I said suddenly as I turned toward the young man. “I'll forgive your sloppy introduction. Here, have a little champagne.”

  I leaned over and poured a bit into his almost empty glass. I knew he was drinking something stronger, but he didn't seem to care.

  “I like your hair.” He leaned closer so he didn't have to shout as loud over the music.

  I smiled but didn't say anything. I didn't need conversation.

  Ricky caught sight of me and his expression darkened.

  Perfect.

  He tore through the crowd. The blonde in the green dress called for him, but he gave her an over-the-shoulder wave. I could see her throwing her hands up in the air. Squawking like a bird, I thought. It might've been a nasty thought, but she'd known Ricky had a girlfriend, so I didn't exactly feel too bad.

  “Red lips too.” The young man next to me was still talking. “I gotta know though, does the carpet match...”

  He didn't get to finish the sentence because, suddenly, Ricky was there.

  “That's my girlfriend, asshole,” Ricky said, shoving the young man's chest.

  The reaction was almost immediate. The two started pushing each other, and I stepped back with a pleading look at the bouncer. He immediately towered over the high top table and clamped one giant hand on Ricky, and the other on my admirer.

  “Lay off, man,” Ricky shouted. “Leighton, tell him I'm with you! I'm with her! She's my girlfriend.”

  I sipped my champagne and let Ricky dangle by the collar in the bouncer's grip. The young man in the loose suit babbled a list of promises and the bouncer lowered him to the ground. I didn't even glance his way as he backed out of the VIP lounge.

  “Oh, I guess I'll have to claim that one,” Paris said, joining me at the high top table.

  The bouncer looked skeptical as he glanced toward me, but I shrugged and he released Ricky who immediately hurried to my side.

  “Your friend is hoping you'll rejoin her,” I said, waving a hand at the seething blonde in the green dress. He didn't say anything, but he did try to slide his arms around my waist.

  I gave a little side step and drained the rest of my glass. The champagne wasn't working fast enough, and I wished I'd ordered something stronger. I had a joint hidden in the lining of my purse, but I didn't really feel like that again. Sure, it made me all giggly, but I wanted to feel better than giggly.

  I turned to my best friend. “Please tell me your new front man lover has some sort of bad habit he's willing to share.”

  “You mean like these?” Paris reached into her purse and pulled out a bag with two tiny orange pills.

  “Up or down?” I asked.

  “All the way up,” Paris said.

  Perfect.

  “As long as I don't end up on the roof,” I said as I let her drop one into my palm.

  “Hey,” Ricky protested. “Don't I get one?”

  “No,” I said sharply, as I popped it with a chaser of champagne. “What you get to do is pick out my next dance partner and he better be handsome.”

  Ricky ran both hands through his hair. “Come on, babe, I wanted to be with you. I want to be with you.”

  No way. He wasn't going get away with it that easily. “And I want you to pick out some handsome man for me to dance with.”

  “Ooo, let me, let me!” Paris begged.

  The blonde in the green dress was still trying to get his attention, and I knew the moment he saw her because his arm slipped around my shoulders. “Alright, beautiful, you're right. My penance will be to watch your gorgeous body up against...”

  I watched him scan the crowd.

  “Him.” Ricky pointed.

  The man's white tee shirt was so tight it was more like a layer of film than clothing. Wide shoulders flexed underneath the taut fabric, and when he saw us looking he flashed a bright white smile.

  “Underwear model, has to be, right?” Paris asked.

  “How about I find out,” I said.

  I filled my champagne glass and raised it to the hunk with a wink. He smiled again, and a dimple appeared above his chiseled jaw. I felt a fizz of excitement as the alcohol and orange pill took hold. I could feel the tension radiating off of my boyfriend as I slipped out from under Ricky's arm and sauntered across the lounge to meet the handsome man.

  “Please tell me you want to dance,” I said. “I'm tired of talking.”

  He smiled another bright flash and took my hand without a
word. The muscular model pulled me down the stairs to the dance floor and then wrapped me close. I liked the way he leaned back and let me hang across his body, holding on as he set the rhythm. We danced in silence for a couple songs before I finally spoke.

  “Not bad dancing for an underwear model,” I said, purposefully leaning into him.

  “Who told you what I do?” he asked.

  I laughed. “Just a lucky guess from my friend over there.”

  Paris waved with one hand, her other arm clamped through Ricky's as she held him back. I supposed one dance had been enough and two was making him a bit crazy. Too bad. I wasn't done yet.

  “What's the deal with that guy over there looking all mad?” my model dance partner asked.

  “Oh, he doesn't think I can take care of myself.” I gave Ricky a dismissive look, and then muttered, “Kind of the theme of my night.”

  The colored lights and lasers over the dance floor shattered into feathers and floated around me as the orange pill worked on my senses. Ricky's shaggy hair extended over his face until I thought he looked more like a donkey than a man. What the hell had Paris given me?

  It was great.

  “You remind me of someone,” I told the underwear model.

  “The guy from that superhero movie?” he asked. “I get that a lot.”

  “No, that's not it,” I said, letting my fingers squeeze his wide shoulder muscles. I frowned. He was almost as big as my...whatever he'd been. “A real life hero. Did I tell you I almost drowned once?”

  He let his hands slip down my back to the curve of my ass. “You almost drowned? Maybe someone should be taking care of you.”

  “Maybe you?” I asked, the room whirling around us. I laughed. “You remind me of the guy who saved me from drowning. He pulled me from the pool and was there when I woke up. Kept me up all night too.”

  “Should I be jealous?”

  “Oh, yes,” I giggled, the noise turning into butterflies that danced around our heads. “He was supposed to make sure my concussion didn't get worse, but instead he made my night really, really good.”

  The underwear model slowed our dance steps and pulled back. His expression had changed. “You're gorgeous, don't get me wrong, but I'm not up for games.”