Man Beneath the Uniform

by Maureen Child

  "What the hell are you guys doing here?" Zack asked.

  "Figured you must be missing us by now," one of them said.

  "Like a rash." Zack snorted a laugh. Amazing. Kim instantly felt the difference in Zack's mood. Pleasure colored his voice and the tension that had been gnawing at him for the last two hours drained away. In the glow of the porch light, the three men stood on her porch, aligned together in a small wave. And they seemed to snake out invisible arms to draw Zack into their center.

  The men were clearly military, despite their casual clothes. They stood as if at attention, broad shoulders squared, hands behind their backs. And if that weren't enough, their military buzz cuts screamed out their identities. Zack and these men were more than friends, she thought. They were … family of a sort. Connected by something she'd probably never fully understand.

  Zack suddenly seemed to remember that she was there. When he turned to look at her, his eyes were warm and friendly. Unguarded. Their fight earlier and the squabble just moments ago were clearly forgotten. His wide smile drew her into the circle of men, including her, and Kim was grateful.

  "Kim," Zack said, sweeping out an arm to indicate all three men, "this is my team. Hula Akiona—"

  A tall, dark man with black hair and dark brown eyes grinned at her and nodded. "Ma'am."

  "Mad Dog Connelly."

  The next man, just as tall, with pale blond hair and deep blue eyes gave her a smile that was both wicked and deceptively innocent.

  "And Three Card Montgomery."

  "'Lo," the last man said. He was shorter than the others, but with a quiet intensity streaming from his brown eyes.

  Kim stared at them all, then shifted her gaze to Zack before saying, "Why don't you all come in and sit down?"

  "Thank you, ma'am." Hula said and started inside, leading the way.

  "Call me Kim."

  "Nice place," Mad Dog muttered as he punched a quick fist into Zack's middle in greeting.

  "Don't mean to impose," Three Card whispered, then stepped inside.

  Zack looked at her and gave her a smile that made Kim glad she'd gone with her first instincts and invited his friends in. She would have slipped away to her bedroom, to give him some time with his friends, but Zack grabbed her hand and drew her into the living room with him.

  "So what's with the visit?" Zack asked. The men were sprawled comfortably on her furniture and for the first time, Kim realized just how feminine and dainty her surroundings were. These muscular men looked like tigers crouched in cat carriers. One of them was sprawled on her couch, the other draped bonelessly across one of her chairs and the third had plunked down in front of the hearth, where a fire snapped and hissed.

  "Wanted to give you the word on Hunter." Three Card spoke up, leaning his forearms on his knees and flipping idly through a magazine on the table in front of him.

  "Who's Hunter?" Kim asked no one in particular.

  "Hunter Cabot. The last member of our team," Zack said tightly. "How is he?"

  "Sitting up and driving the nurses crazy." Hula chuckled and scooted a little farther back on the stone hearth, edging closer to the screened-in fire. "One of 'em's thinking about a sexual harassment suit. A redhead."

  "Always his weakness," Three Card said from the chair.

  "Then he's gonna be okay," Zack said, relief coloring his voice.

  "Got a weakness of your own now, don't you, man?" Hula said, grinning at Three Card.

  "Funny."

  Zack glanced at Kim. "Three Card just got married a while back."

  "Congratulations," Kim said automatically.

  The intense man nodded at her. "'Preciate it." He looked at Zack again. "Hunter keeps askin' for his pants and a beer—not necessarily in that order." Three Card reached out one leg and shoved Hula farther to the side. "Shift, man. You're hoggin' the fire."

  Hula swatted the man's big foot out of the way and didn't budge an inch. "The doctors are threatening him with restraints."

  "Wouldn't hold him, anyway. He's just as ugly and mean as ever," Mad Dog offered.

  "What happened to him?" Kim asked, looking from one man to the next.

  "Nothing," Zack said tightly.

  "Nothing?" she repeated. "Your friend's in the hospital recovering from a bad attack of nothing?"

  "Boss is just being modest, ma'am," Hula said. Mad Dog snorted and gave Hula another good-natured push.

  Zack scowled at all of them.

  Kim ignored him. "If he's so modest, why don't you tell me," she said and moved around Zack to take a seat on the couch opposite Hula.

  "Be happy to, ma'am," the man said, then slid a look at Three Card. "But why don't you get the supplies out of the car first? I'm feeling a little dry."

  "Supplies?"

  "Beer," Zack muttered.

  Three Card vaulted over the back of the sofa in a quick, fluid move, then slipped through the front door. While she was staring after Three Card, Hula started talking. Zack took a seat behind her, on the arm of the couch. His thigh, hand and warm, pressed into her back and Kim leaned into him. She felt Zack shift uncomfortably as his friend talked, telling her about their last mission.

  Hula's words painted a vivid picture. The darkness, the danger. She felt their victory when they rescued the hostage and shared in their fury when they were told to leave one of their own behind.

  "That's terrible," she blurted.

  "Yes, ma'am," Hula said, mouth grim. "That's what we thought."

  "Damn politicians," Three Card murmured, as he walked in and set the twelve pack of cold beer atop a magazine in the center of the table. Pulling a few out, he passed them around, first handing one to Kim.

  "She doesn't—" Zack started to say.

  "Thank you," Kim said and accepted the beer. Lifting the can to her lips, she took a sip and Zack grinned.

  "So, what happened?" she asked.

  "Hunter's in the hospital," Zack reminded her, "we got him."

  "Thank God."

  "No, ma'am," Hula said, staring at Zack. "Thank the boss. Shooter told the big guns to go to hell, then he doubled back, scooped Hunter up and carried him out on his back."

  "Shooter?" she asked.

  "The boss's code name."

  "Shut up, Hula."

  "Keep talking, Hula," Kim said.

  "Yes, ma'am." He grinned at her and ignored Zack. "Shooter carried Hunter out on his back, under enemy fire and got him back to the Zodiac in time to be evacuated."

  "Alone?" She stared up at Zack and wasn't surprised to see him shift uncomfortably again. She couldn't imagine going into danger alone. Yet he did it all the time. As routinely as she walked to the beach to take photos of starfish.

  Pride filled her as she looked up at him. She'd never known anyone like him. The men she'd grown up around would take credit for the simplest of tasks. Hailing a cab in the rain. Landing a successful account. But Zack faced down guns to help a friend and didn't want to be reminded of it. Apparently, he had no problem doing what needed to be done. He simply didn't want to be praised for it. Even if the praise was well deserved.

  Three Card laughed. "Shooter does best on his own, ma'am. It's how he likes it."

  Zack scowled at him.

  Kim was fascinated. She'd known that Zack was a warrior. He carried an innate sense of self-confidence that she envied. She'd never really been sure of herself. Oh, she was confident in her work. She knew oceans and marine life. But put her on dry land and throw her into a situation where she'd be forced to talk to people and she was lost. At parties she could be most often found standing in a corner, talking to a plant. Or better yet, sneaking out early and heading back home. To her nest. Her cave.

  Her sanctuary.

  At least, that's what it had been until Zack had invaded it. And now, she doubted that it would ever feel the same to her again. He'd imprinted himself on the walls. He'd made himself a part of her daily life and she wasn't sure how to get him back out again.

  Or even if she wanted to.


  "You saved him." She looked up at Zack until he met her gaze and when he did, she saw embarrassment color his eyes. Something she hadn't expected. And for some reason, she liked him even more for it.

  "The team goes in," he said simply, "the team comes out."

  "Hoo-yah," the three other men muttered all at once, lifting their bottles of beer in salute.

  The evening slid past in a rush of conversation and laughter. Forgotten, the TV provided a background current against the ebb and flow of stories being told. Kim laughed and talked more than she had in years. The men, closer than brothers, teased and joked and drew her into their camaraderie, made her one of them, and she loved it. She felt a sense of belonging that she'd never really felt before. She drank beer until her head swam, and then she ate pizza. She hadn't had pizza in years, but when Hula had two huge pies delivered, she'd dug right in with the rest of them, fighting and grumbling over every slice of pepperoni.

  It felt … good. It felt comfortable. She felt Zack's approval as he watched her fit in with his friends.

  By the time she was on her fourth beer, the stories had turned to scuba diving and they were all recounting their favorite spots. Here, Kim joined right in, telling her own version of war stories.

  These men understood her love of the sea. The dangers and the attractions of visiting a world far below the surface of the everyday. They'd seen the beauty and experienced the unbelievable silences of deep-water diving. They knew what she knew. They'd each known the magic of descending into darkness and finding life teeming around them in the frigid waters.

  "Oh, man, here's the best part," Hula shouted, splintering conversations and grabbing everyone's attention at once.

  "What?" Kim turned her head too quickly and saw the room spin. Probably not a good thing.

  "The movie—" Hula pointed to the TV and Three Card groaned.

  "The man never gets tired of this."

  "Tired of what?" Confused, Kim blinked to bring the men into focus, then turned her gaze on the television set where an old movie was playing. The characters were sitting around a scarred table aboard a disreputable boat in the middle of the ocean. Drinking themselves silly, they were comparing scars as a giant shark circled their small ship, looking for revenge.

  "I can beat them," Hula said and lifted his left leg, propping one foot on the edge of the table. Pulling his jeans up, he displayed a vicious scar. "Barracuda, Florida Keys."

  "Hell," Three Card said, then winced. "'Scuse me, ma'am. That's nothin'." He stood up, lifted the tail of his shirt and displayed a flat, tanned abdomen with a circular scar over his ribcage. "Tiger Shark, Gulf of Mexico."

  Kim grinned as Mad Dog rolled the right sleeve of his shirt up. Slapping one hand to the long, thin scar wrapping around his bicep, he proclaimed, "Stingray, Malibu."

  Zack, not to be outdone, pulled his shirt up and turned around, exposing the long scar waving across the small of his back. "Moray eel, Thailand."

  Four pairs of eyes shifted to Kim in silent challenge. She thought about it for a long minute, then decided, she was a part of this group, now. They'd welcomed her in, and now she could pay her dues. Propping her left leg up on the coffee table in front of her, she pulled up the hem of her jeans and displayed a set of small, circular scars running up the inside of her calf. "Octopus, Sea of Japan."

  "Hoo-yah!" all four men cried, lifting their beers in a salute to her.

  Kim grinned and for the first time in her life, felt as though she really belonged.

  * * *

  Hours later, Zack was stretched out on his narrow bed, staring at the ceiling. The guys were long gone in the cab Zack had called for them. Kim was tucked up in her soft bed and every time she shifted, he winced at the creak of her bedsprings.

  Watching her all night, it had taken everything in him not to grab her and kiss her senseless. He never would have believed that the fish geek would pull up the leg of her jeans and match scars with a bunch of SEALs. Miss Whole-Wheat-Bagels-and-Blended-Carrot-Juice had sucked down beer and fought him for the last slice of pizza. She'd laughed and told stories and that grin of hers had hit him hard enough that his heart was still a little rocky.

  She'd made him want her more than ever.

  Damn it.

  From the room next door, the bed creaked again and Zack told himself not to think about it. He closed his eyes, but that didn't help, since he kept seeing her in his mind, smiling up at him.

  "Zack?"

  His eyes flew open. Turning his head to the wall, he stared at the paneling as if he had X-ray vision. "Yeah?"

  "I like your friends," she said, her voice clear and soft through the wall that wasn't a wall at all.

  He scrubbed one hand hard across his face. "They liked you, too."

  "They did, didn't they?"

  Frowning now, he said, "That surprises you?"

  A long pause before, "Well, yeah."

  "Why?"

  "You don't like me. I figured they wouldn't, either."

  "I never said I didn't like you."

  "Do you?"

  He pushed himself up onto one elbow and stared at the damn wall. "Why am I talking to a wall if I don't?"

  "I like you, too," she said after another long moment. "I didn't think I would, but I do."

  "Thanks." He's dying of want and she "liked" him. That was just great.

  "If I tell you something, will you promise to stay where you are?"

  "I never make promises without all the facts," he said, dropping his head back onto the pillow. The ceiling tiles were dotted with thirty-four speckles of green paint and seventy-five speckles of gray paint and one hundred and twenty-seven dots of blue paint. He knew. He'd counted them all in the last two hours. Desperate to get his mind off Kim, he'd resorted to math, for God's sake.

  And now she wanted to have a heart-to-heart chat from behind the safety of a sheet of paneling?

  "Just promise," she said and he heard her teeth grinding.

  "If it'll get you to shut up and go to sleep, I promise."

  Seconds ticked past. Wind kicked up outside and rattled under the eaves of the old house.

  "You were right before," she said finally, her voice softer now, a little more hesitant.

  "I never get tired of hearing a woman say that to me, Doc," he said, smiling a little. "But right about what, exactly?"

  "Earlier today," she said. "When we were outside?"

  His insides coiled, tightened. "Yeah?"

  "You said I wanted you."

  "And…"

  "You were right."

  Kim's bedroom door flew open and Zack was silhouetted in the open doorway. She shot straight up in bed, clutching the rose-patterned quilt to her chest. Glaring at him, she shouted, "You promised to stay in your own room!"

  "I lied."

  * * *

  Seven

  « ^ »

  Kim leaped off the bed, dragging the sheet and quilt with her. Clutching both to her chest, she stared at him in dumbfounded shock and … appreciation.

  He was really built. His muscled, well-defined chest gleamed like warm, golden honey in the slash of moonlight spearing through her room. The waistband of his jeans hung open, giving her a tantalizing glimpse of slightly paler flesh. Deliberately, she looked away and lifted her gaze to his.

  "You said you never lied."

  "Not about the big things."

  She nodded her head sharply. "This is pretty big."

  He grinned quickly, devastatingly. "Thanks."

  Kim's stomach quivered even while her sense of humor tickled. "I didn't mean that."

  One dark eyebrow lifted.

  She scooped her hair back with an impatient hand. "You're impossible."

  "It's been said before."

  "Oh, I'm sure of that." She inhaled deeply and blew out a surprisingly shaky breath. He was so much more than she'd expected. So much more dangerous a man than she'd ever known before.

  Not dangerous physically, of course. But the threa
t to her heart kept growing. She didn't want to care about him. Didn't want to feel anything for a man she knew was only there because he'd been ordered to protect her. And she knew that the moment his "sentence" was lifted, he'd be gone. She'd be a memory and he'd be on to the next woman.

  And despite that, a part of her wanted to cross the room, step into his arms and enjoy what he was offering, anyway. But a larger and, she hoped, smarter part of her knew better. The line between brains and desire was blending, though, and if she didn't act quickly, it'd be too late to stop the inevitable. Lifting one arm, she pointed at the doorway and said simply, "Out."

  He didn't budge. "I'm not in yet."

  God, he could affect her this much and he wasn't even within reach. What would he be able to do if he actually got his hands on her? Oh, boy. Her blood did a quick boil and her breath staggered from her lungs. "You're not going to be in, either."

  He gave her a slow, lazy smile. "You said you wanted me."

  Oh, yeah, she thought. Big-time. "I want lots of things."

  He grinned. "I'll see what I can do."

  "Cut it out, Zack."

  He put one hand against the doorjamb and leaned his weight into it. His chest rippled and Kim sucked in a breath. But the air in the room felt thick and hot and she couldn't seem to make her lungs work.

  He took a step into the room and Kim's heart skittered in her chest.

  His gaze drilled into hers and even in the darkness, she saw the heat, the desire, the glint of pure need shining in their depths. "All teasing aside," he said, his voice soft and warm, "I want you to know, I didn't technically lie."

  She opened her mouth to argue, but he kept talking.

  "It's important to me that you know I won't lie to you."

  "You're here. You promised to stay in your own room."

  He smiled and shrugged slightly. "A promise made under duress."

  "Duress?"

  "And I had my fingers crossed."

  She laughed shortly. "What are you, twelve?"

  "Only in my heart," he said, smiling.

  "Right."

  "So, we're clear on the not-lying thing?"

  Kim looked at him closely and saw that despite the teasing note in his voice, his eyes were dead serious. This was clearly important to him and the fact that it was meant a lot to Kim. "We're clear."