A Soldier for Suzie: A Military Romantic Comedy (Love will OUT Book 3)

by D. E. Haggerty

  “Thank you. This is awesome.”

  I stand on my tiptoes and kiss his cheek in thanks. Big mistake. This close to him, I can smell the scent of vanilla wafting from him. Because I’m a glutton for punishment, I take another whiff and notice mint. Mmm… mint and vanilla. Two of my favorite smells in the entire world.

  Little Susan wakes up and decides it’s time to do the rumba while humming La cucaracha. I’m not sure how she learned the rumba. I certainly don’t know how to do the rumba.

  Grayson clears his throat before grasping my hand. “Come on, let’s go. Your stomach sounds like it’s trying to eat through your skin to escape.”

  Yes, let’s get out of here before I throw caution to the wind and jump my friend. Reminder – Grayson is a friend, not a potential sexual partner. I do not have sex with friends. Little Susan pouts and her shoulders hunch as she slumps off the dance floor.

  The bar is hopping when we arrive. Of course, it is. It’s Saturday night.

  “Honey! I’m home!” I shout when we enter.

  “Uh oh, trouble’s in the house,” Barney says and waves us over.

  I debate not joining the uncles at their table for at least five seconds. On the one hand, the uncles will pour cold water on any amorous feelings I’m having for Grayson. But, on the other hand, I do want to spend time alone with the sexy man. That does it! No sexy men for Suzie.

  “I’m surprised to see you guys here. After all, you’re never here.” I wink.

  Lenny frowns. “Sarcasm does not look good on you, young lady.”

  “Sarcasm looks good on everyone, old man.”

  “Who you calling old?” Sid asks.

  “I was referring to Lenny, but if you want in on the action, then …”

  Sid punches my arm. “Ow!”

  “Children, calm down,” Pops orders as he walks over. He kisses my hair. “Hey, Shorty. I didn’t expect to see you in here today.”

  I thumb my finger at Grayson. “This one held my present hostage unless I agreed to get out of the house.”

  “Present?” Sid leans close. “What kind of present?”

  A bit of background about Sid. The guy is a hopeless romantic. But he apparently sucks at the romance part since he’s been married five times. Rumor has it he has wife number six – a nurse from a fire incident – on the hook.

  “A brewing journal. It was an apology for ruining my wort.”

  “Never heard it referred to that before,” Lenny remarks.

  I slap him. “Wort as in the liquid extracted from the mashing process during brewing. Not my tunnel of love.”

  Sid tsks. “What a disappointment.”

  I don’t want to talk about my relationship with Grayson. I address Pop, “I’ll take a hamburger and fries and a stout.”

  Pops chuckles. “What a surprise.” He takes everyone else’s orders and leaves.

  Lenny slaps me on the shoulder. “He’s a keeper.”

  “He’s a keeper? What are you talking about?” I’m acting dumb, but I have a sneaking suspicion I know exactly what he’s going on about.

  “Grayson. We approve.”

  No, no, no. They’ve got it all wrong. I shake my head.

  Grayson chuckles. “We’re friends. Nothing more.”

  Phew. Thank goodness. I don’t want Grayson getting the wrong idea about us. Snort. Like that’s likely to happen. Grayson would never want me. He’s like a fifteen on a scale of ten and I’m a five. Maybe a six if I put on make-up and do something with my hair.

  Don’t get me wrong. I’m not doing the whole boohoo for me thing. I know my value. I’m loyal, fun, and cute. What I am not is beautiful. No, a short girl with spikey red hair who spills her food and trips on her own two feet is not in the beautiful category. I’ve made my peace with it.

  “Is our Suzie not good enough for you?” Lenny glares at Grayson.

  Grayson gulps. “Of course, she is. Too good for me.” I start to giggle because he has got to be kidding me, but one look at him and the giggle dies in my throat. He looks serious. What?

  “Damn right, she is,” Wally mutters.

  “Then, why don’t you want her?” Sid asks and it takes all my self-restraint to stop myself from reaching across the table and slapping him. Doesn’t he know the last thing I need in this world is to hear Grayson explain in detail why he doesn’t want me?

  “Leave it alone, Sid. We’re friends. Nothing more.”

  Sid waves away my protest. “I know why you have hang-ups about relationships, I want to hear what his hang-ups are.”

  “Maybe it’s none of your business.” The uncles think it’s their right to not only pry into Hailey’s life but also the personal lives of all of her friends. It’s not.

  “Let the soldier speak for himself,” Wally orders.

  Alarm! Alarm! When the super-secret spy starts using words like soldier, interrogation mode isn’t far off. Not good. I stand.

  “Come on, Grayson. Let’s eat at the bar.”

  Grayson doesn’t move. To my surprise, he opens his mouth and confesses, “I’m not ready for a relationship.” The flash of pain in his eyes is strong enough to make me flinch. The soldier is holding out on me. Now I’m curious and hoping Wally does switch into interrogation mode. And – in case you’re wondering – there’s nothing wrong with being curious.

  Wally’s eyes narrow on him. “Why not? Are you married?”

  “If I were married, I’d be in a relationship, wouldn’t I?”

  “If a tag chaser hurt you when she abandoned you while you were overseas, there’s no need to worry. Suzie is the most loyal person in the world.”

  “Oh great. You make me sound like a golden retriever,” I whine.

  Grayson ignores my comment to respond to Wally. “I didn’t hook up with a tag chaser. Do I look stupid?”

  “What’s a tag chaser?”

  No one pays a lick of attention to me.

  “Then, what’s the problem?” Sid asks. “We know you’re attracted to our Suzie.”

  My eyes widen. They do? Grayson isn’t attracted to me. In fact, he hasn’t shown a hint of interest in me in a romantic way. No flirting, no accidental brushing of body parts against mine, nada nothing. Despite what Hailey and Phoebe think, I know how to flirt. I simply choose not to.

  Grayson glances in my direction. His eyes narrow when he notices my face is the color of a fire engine, which is not a good look for a redhead in case you’re wondering. He glowers at the uncles. “Stop. You’re embarrassing Suzie.”

  There’s a whole lot of grumbling before Lenny chimes in, “What did the toaster say to the slice of bread?” He wiggles his eyebrows. “I want you inside me!”

  A total lame joke but I high-five him as a reward for cutting the tension. Grayson ushers me back into my seat and Pops arrives with our food. He studies the uncles for a moment before setting the plates on the table.

  “They’re not giving you a hard time are they, Shorty?” he asks with a hand on my shoulder making it clear whose side he’s on.

  I grin up at him. “I’m fine.” I sniff the food. “And this smells delicious.”

  He winks before glaring at the uncles again for good measure and leaving.

  We dive into our food and the conversation switches to the playoffs. I don’t pay much attention to football, but I’m happy to concentrate on sports instead of my supposed chemistry with Grayson. As if.

  Chapter 5

  This beer tastes like I’m not going to work tomorrow.

  “You Cheat, We Eat, Suzie speaking. How can we make your life better today?” I throw my jacket down and plop on my chair. I may also swallow a grumpy grumble because it’s Monday morning and who doesn’t hate Mondays. Sociopaths is who!

  “I’d like to speak to Ryker Rossi, please,” a woman says.

  Since Ryker can’t stand to have Phoebe out of his sight, he’s renting space at our PI firm. He’s also hired us – meaning me – to handle his digital research. I run the names of his skips throu
gh a network of tracking data to pin down their location. It’s not much different than other digital research I do for the business. I guess I’m also taking calls for him now too.

  “Mr. Rossi’s not in, may I help you?” Mr. Rossi is hardly ever in. Bounty hunting is outlawed in Wisconsin meaning he mostly works out of state.

  “Uh, yes? I think?”

  I wait, but she doesn’t expand on her answer. “Why don’t you start by telling me your name?”

  Since the core business of You Cheat, We Eat is cheating men, I’m used to fielding calls from wives who are – to put it mildly – apprehensive about calling a PI to catch their husband fooling around on them. I often need to coax the information out of a potential client.

  “I’m Nora.”

  “Hi Nora! My name is Suzie.” I infuse my voice with a bunch of cheer. “Now that we’re friends, why don’t you tell me what the problem is.”

  “I need Mr. Rossi to find someone for me.”

  “Okay. Is this someone in trouble for skipping bail?” Why do I have a feeling I’m going to be explaining what a bail recovery agent does in a second here?

  “I’m not sure.”

  Could she be any more vague?

  “Why don’t you explain who you need found and why.” Geez. This is more difficult than getting a teenager to tell you how she did on her math test. And before you start making assumptions, math is my superpower.

  “I’m not sure what his name is, but he’s harassing me, and it needs to stop.”

  My ears perk up. Maybe I was too quick to judge Nora. “Harassing how?”

  “He won’t let me sleep at night.”

  My heartbeat quickens. “Is he in the house with you right now?” I whisper. “Are you safe?”

  “I’m safe. He only appears at night.”

  “Have you called the police when he shows up?” I love money as much as the next girl, but this does sound like a matter for the police and not a PI, let alone a bounty hunter.

  “They laughed at me.”

  Fuckers. How dare they? I can hear how frightened Nora is. “Why don’t you give me some examples of what this guy does.”

  She clears her throat. “He rattles the windows, he rings the phone at all times of the night, he switches the television on and off, he swings doors open and closed, he—

  I’m starting to get a sneaky suspicion I know what’s going on. “Nora, is the person who has been harassing you a ghost?” I interrupt to ask.

  “Yes!” she shouts. “I knew I’d called the right person.”

  Technically she called Ryker and I answered, but whatever. “What exactly is it you think Mr. Rossi does?”

  “He finds people, and I need a person found.”

  “I’m afraid Mr. Rossi won’t be able to help you. He finds fugitives, people who have skipped bond.” And not ghosts, I think but don’t say.

  “You don’t know. Maybe my ghost is a fugitive from justice.”

  “Seeing as we’re in Wisconsin and there’s no private bail system in the state, I don’t think a bounty hunter can help you.”

  “What about one of the PIs then?”

  I cringe. I deliberately didn’t offer her our PI services, thinking she didn’t know about them and would hang up. I take a moment to imagine Phoebe and Hailey going to ghostbust a house. They could wear Ghostbusters outfits, and we could convert the SUV into an ectomobile. I snicker. They would kill me if I took Nora on as a client.

  “I’m afraid we don’t offer ghostbusting services.”

  “But what am I going to do? No one will help me.”

  I’m sure there’s some firm out there that will offer her ghostbusting services. They’ll also most likely rip her off. Not okay.

  “I tell you what we can do. I can run a background check and property search to find out if any serious crimes or violent acts have been carried out at your house.”

  “What good would that do?”

  The bell over the door rings and Hailey, Phoebe, and Ryker walk in. I raise my hand for them to be quiet to allow me to finish this bat shit crazy phone call.

  “If no serious crimes or violent acts occurred at your house, then you’ll know your ghost has come in peace.”

  Your ghost has come in peace? Hailey mouths at me before biting her lip to stop from laughing.

  I narrow my eyes at her. She better not start laughing. Nora may be cuckoo for cocoa puffs, but she’s also a woman who is suffering. If we can help her, we should. What we definitely shouldn’t do, is laugh at her. I’m sure the police laughed at her enough.

  “Oh, I didn’t think of it like that. I guess a peaceful ghost is better than a violent one. Okay, I’ll do it. What are your prices?”

  I quickly explain our prices to her. Once I have her agreement, I tell her I’ll have the results for her within a day and hang up.

  I point at Hailey who looks like she’s about to burst. “No laughing. You refuse to deal with certifiable clients. Guess what? Someone still has to deal with them when they call.”

  Hailey makes a production of zipping her lips. I ignore her to glare at Ryker.

  “You promised I wouldn’t get any crazy calls. You owe me, big guy.” He grunts and walks off. “And a beer at McGraw’s is not sufficient,” I shout at his retreating back.

  He gives me a two-finger wave before shutting his door. Doesn’t he know I have his credit card information? Coffee and cake this afternoon are on Ryker!

  Phoebe stares at the closed door. “What in the world? Did he forget he shares an office with me?”

  She raises her hand to knock but stops and shakes her head. “What am I doing?” she mutters to herself before opening the door. She marches in and slams the door behind her. I expect to hear her lay into Ryker, but Phoebe hasn’t come into her righteous woman yet. She’s getting close, though.

  My gaze moves to Hailey. “Where are Leroy and Lola?”

  The door opens and Aiden enters with the dogs on his heels.

  Oh great. “Is it love shack day at the office again?”

  Aiden smirks. Not the response I was hoping for. This is what happens when your friends and co-workers get engaged. They get all lovey-dovey all the time. I’d complain I’m disgusted, but I’m actually happy for both of them. They both deserve all the happiness in the world. It sucks I will personally never have a fiancé, but c’est la vie.

  I stand and gather my coat and purse. “I’m going for coffee.” I point at Hailey. “You better be finished when I get back or I’m taking the day off. A paid day off!”

  She raises an eyebrow. “Did you forget you’re part owner of the business? You don’t need my permission to take a day off.”

  Here’s the thing about owning your own business, it’s a shit ton of work. There is no such thing as a paycheck. Nope, it’s all about dividends and profit sharing and a whole bunch of other boring accountanty words. I may be a math whiz, but it doesn’t mean I like it.

  “I’ll be back in an hour,” I shout.

  “Don’t forget to bring me a cinnamon twist,” Hailey replies.

  “And I’ll take a Boston cream,” Phoebe shouts from behind her closed door.

  I place my hand on my heart and heave an exaggerated sigh. “Ah, our little girl is all grown up now.”

  Phoebe used to be a complete health nut, but she’s loosened up since Ryker and her got together. All her secrets have been revealed as well, which was a relief because I was literally dying of curiosity. The woman was all mysterious, and if there’s one thing I can’t stand, it’s not knowing everything about everybody.

  I wave at Hailey before taking off. With the way Aiden is looking her up and down like she’s a big juicy burger he can’t wait to take a bite of, I’m not a second too soon in leaving. I said I was happy for them finding their happily ever afters, but it doesn’t mean I need to be an eyewitness. Blech. Happily ever after is for fools. I, for one, am no fool.

  Chapter 6

  How does a man show he’s planning for th
e future? He buys two cases of beer.

  Meet you at McGraw’s at 6?

  I frown when I see Grayson’s text. I’d love to hang out at the pub and throw back a few cold ones. Unfortunately, I haven’t got the time. I received a huge order for my Short but Stout brew, and I need to label about a gazillion bottles before I can ship them off. Fun times. Not.

  Can’t. Have a date.

  I don’t mention the date is with one hundred bottles and their labels. And yes, I’m being an idiot trying to put distance between Grayson and me when all I want to do is climb him like the monkey bars in my childhood playground. What? Screw trees, the monkey bars rock!

  I chew on my thumbnail as I wait for his response. I’m stupid! Why am I testing him? Putting distance between us?

  Have a good time.

  Great. He’s completely fine with me dating another man. Chemistry my ass. It takes me approximately two milliseconds before I break down and tell him the truth.

  It’s labeling night at the brew shack.

  Ugh. I’m beyond lame. I had to tell him I didn’t have a date, didn’t I? What am I doing? I can’t be with Grayson anyway. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. I slap my forehead for good measure. Maybe I can rattle my brain around in there and fix this ‘obsessed with Grayson’ glitch.

  Need help?

  You bet I do. But do I want his help? I don’t let any old person in my brew shack. And yes, I realize my shyness about my brewing is becoming weird at this point. Fuck it. It’s not like we’re going to get it on my brew shack. I’m not exactly sexy when I’m brewing. Pfft. I’m never sexy.

  Sure.

  I insert an emoji of a shrugging woman and text him my address. I set my phone down and get back to work. Five minutes later it hits me. Shit! I invited the man I’m crushing on to my house. Eek! I send Hailey a text to let her know I’m leaving early, snatch my coat, and skedaddle.

  By the time six o’clock arrives, the surfaces in my house are sparkling with cleanliness. Spoiler alert – my house wasn’t dirty to begin with. Hailey may be onto something when she calls me an obsessive-compulsive cleaner.

  I’ve also spent the past two hours obsessing about Grayson being in my house. Friends, Suzie, remember? You are friends. And friends visit each other houses. You can handle him being in your home without jumping his bones. Besides, you’ll be in the brew shack working most of the time.