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

by D. E. Haggerty

“You told me you didn’t want to go!” I cry. I’ve spent loads of time setting up tonight’s entertainment because she flat out refused to watch male erotic dancers.

  Aiden barrels into the room and picks her up from the sofa. “If you go to a stripper show, I’ll spank your ass when you get home.”

  Hailey bats her eyelashes. “Then, as long as we do another activity, other than going to the stripper show, you’ll be okay with it?”

  The woman is a genius. A genius I tell you!

  Aiden grunts. “Yes.” She pushes for him to let her down.

  Once he’s back in the kitchen, I announce, “We’re having a bachelorette scavenger hunt.”

  I hand them each a scorecard with a list of actions and the points each action is worth. It’s all fun and somewhat embarrassing stuff like kissing a stranger, getting a guy to give you a condom, asking someone to marry you. Stuff like that.

  “Hey big guy, can I touch your muscles?” Phoebe shouts her question in the direction of the kitchen.

  “Oh, can we go to McGraw’s? I’m going to kick ass at this.”

  “No! No! No!” I snag the cards out of their hands. “You can’t use your boyfriends or fiancés or friends or family to help you win. It’s called cheating.”

  Hailey ignores my order to ask, “What do I get when I win?”

  I indicate the box on my side table. It’s filled with sweet treats – artisan chocolate, fancy popcorn, peanut butter cookies, shortbread, caramel, etc.

  “I’m going to gain ten pounds after I eat all this,” Phoebe whines as she examines the items one by one.

  “You aren’t eating any of it because I’m going to win,” Hailey declares and shoves her to the side to study the box for herself.

  “You guys are cute. Like you have a chance,” I tell them.

  “She’s right,” Phoebe whispers out of the side of her mouth. “Suzie has no shame. She’ll be getting a piggyback-ride from a guy and gathering condoms and phone numbers before we can blink.”

  “This is a hard no,” Ryker says as he studies the card.

  I snatch it out of his hand but before I get a chance to tell Ryker to mind his own dang business, Phoebe speaks, “You don’t get to tell me what to do.”

  He smirks. “You like it when I tell you what to do.”

  I clap my hands over my ears. “No. TMI! Too much information!”

  “Tell you what, we’ll allow this little game,” Aiden says as he walks over to Hailey. “But we are coming with to chaperone.”

  I growl. They are ruining all my fun!

  “There are rules,” Hailey says as she gives in. “You stay in the corner of whatever bar we are in and interfere if and only if we’re in danger. And danger is not a man attempting to flirt with one of us. Actual danger. Like losing a limb danger.”

  I shake my head. This is not going to work. Ryker sees danger everywhere. I am not joking. I’m the one who ends up doing the background checks on the men who are supposedly stalking Phoebe. Spoiler alert – no one is stalking her. Not anymore at least.

  “But who’s going to keep Suzie under control? Without a chaperone, she’ll have an advantage over us,” Phoebe points out.

  “I don’t need a chaperone.”

  “Grayson’s already on his way.” The doorbell rings. “I bet that’s him now.”

  The door opens and my body lights up. Not with excitement. No, I’m all about the embarrassment now. I haven’t seen him since the ‘be my sperm donor’ talk.

  “I told you I don’t need a chaperone.”

  “What’s the big deal?” Phoebe asks. “You got off easy. Grayson and you are only friends. He won’t stop you from kissing the bartender.”

  “And he can be our designated driver,” Hailey adds.

  Grayson looks around confused. “Wait. What? I thought we were having drinks at McGraw’s.”

  I snatch the cards off of the table. “Come on. I’ll explain on the way.”

  Once we’re in his truck, I direct him toward a row of bars nowhere near McGraw’s. With her pops and uncles at McGraw’s, Hailey would win before Phoebe and I had the chance to start. Not on my watch.

  As soon as he parks, I open the door and rush out. “The scavenger hunt starts now. You’ve got three hours to get as many points as possible.” I run into the bar like my ass is on fire.

  By the time Hailey and Phoebe find me, I’ve got a condom, a guy’s phone number, and I’m sipping on a drink the bartender gave me for free. Of course, it’s a coke because I told him I’m the designated driver, but nowhere do the rules indicate the drink has to be an alcoholic beverage.

  I fan my face with the condom and phone number. “What took you guys so long?”

  I ignore their sputtering because I’ve spotted a guy with a tie. He’s also pretty muscular. Score! “Hi, Stud,” I greet as I walk up to him.

  “Sorry, little lady. I play for the other team.” In case I’m stupid, he winks at some hot guy walking past.

  “Perfect!” I shout. He startles and takes a step back. “I’m doing this scavenger hunt. Can I have your tie and pet your muscles?”

  His mouth drops open and he gapes at me. He didn’t say no. I whip out my phone and stand close to him for a selfie while I touch his muscles.

  He finds his voice. “I’m not giving you this tie. My boyfriend gave it to me.” His boyfriend? Didn’t he not two seconds ago wink at some guy? Men, I tell you.

  “Is he wearing a tie?” I ask as I look around the room trying to spot his boyfriend. I squeal and clap. “Is he short? Under five-foot-two would be perfect.”

  He eyes my glass. “How much have you had to drink?”

  “A glass of champagne.” He tilts his head toward my glass. “This is coke.” He looks like he doesn’t believe me. I offer him a drink. “Here. Try it.”

  Grayson snatches my glass before grasping my bicep and dragging me away from my prey. “What? What’s wrong?”

  “What’s wrong?” he seethes. “You offered your drink to a complete stranger.”

  I roll my eyes. “You’re taking this chaperone business too seriously. I’m fine.” I pet his chest to console him. Big mistake. I can feel his muscles straining at his t-shirt. I snatch my hand away and shove it in the front pocket of my jeans before I’m tempted to pet other parts of him.

  “See?” I use my free hand to point at Hailey and Phoebe who appear to have teamed up. I narrow my eyes on them. This is an individual sport. Not a team sport. “Their men are letting them be.”

  My eyes widen when I realize what I said. “Not that you’re my man.” I take a step back and he drops his hand.

  As soon as I’m free I take off. “There’s a karaoke machine!”

  Those twenty points for singing a song in the middle of the dance floor are mine. Mine, I tell you! Nowhere in the rules does it say I can’t use a microphone for my song. I push my way through the crowd until I’m at the karaoke machine.

  “Why is no one doing karaoke?” I ask the DJ who’s setting up the equipment.

  “We don’t start until ten.”

  Darn. By then the scavenger hunt will be over and I refuse to lose. “Can I use the microphone? And maybe ask you to play a certain song.”

  He looks at my t-shirt and sighs. “Bachelorette party?” I give him my best sugar won’t melt in my mouth smile. “What song?”

  “We Are the Champions from Queen.” Perfect for rubbing my win into Hailey and Phoebe’s faces. I squeal as he hands me the mic and the piano introduction starts.

  I push my way into the middle of the dancing crowd and start singing. Unfortunately, I don’t know the lyrics, although I know the refrain because a toddler could remember the words.

  “I am the champion,” I shout-sing at the top of my lungs into the mic.

  The dancers start singing with me. Before I know it, everyone is shoving and pushing toward me trying to nab my microphone. I scream and start slapping at the hands. Where is my chaperone when I need him?

  The DJ co
mes to my rescue by stealing the microphone, although I guess it isn’t technically stealing. “Enough,” he growls and marches off.

  Once my microphone is gone the crowd melts away. Oh well, it was fun while it lasted. At least, I got my twenty points.

  Hailey accosts me the second my foot steps off the dance floor. “Don’t think you’re getting points for such a weak performance.”

  “Yeah, you didn’t even finish the song,” Phoebe adds.

  “It doesn’t say you have to sing the entire song.”

  “Of course, it’s the entire song. Otherwise, it would say sing on the dance floor and not sing a song on the dance floor,” Hailey argues.

  “Fine,” I give in. I ignore her and Phoebe as they clap in excitement. I need to get me some more points.

  I scan the card. Use the men’s restroom. Piece of cake. I make my way through the crowd to the restrooms. As usual, there’s a huge line for the ladies and no one is waiting for the men’s. Thanks for making this easy stupid sexist architects.

  I make my way into the men’s room and find an empty stall. I hold my nose as I drop my jeans and squat to relieve myself. At least there’s toilet paper in this place.

  As I walk to the sink to wash my hands, a guy walks in. He raises an eyebrow at me. “Line at the ladies.”

  He grunts and lowers his zipper as he walks to the urinal. “Can’t you wait until I leave to pee?”

  “You’re the one who went in the men’s room, lady.”

  My eyes widen when he whips his dick out. “Holy macaroni, you’re huge! Are you on steroids?” I clap when I get the best idea ever. “Will you give my girlfriend a lap dance? We’re having her bachelorette party tonight and there’s this scavenger hunt.”

  “You’re done.”

  I twirl around to see Grayson standing at the entrance to the restroom.

  “I’m winning is what’s happening,” I tell him.

  “You’re done,” he repeats. I ignore him to continue my conversation with the stranger with the massive schlong. Suddenly, I’m flying. I grunt as the air is knocked out of me when my stomach lands on Grayson’s shoulder.

  “What the hell? What are you doing?”

  “We’re leaving.” He pushes his way through the crowd of women waiting to use the restroom. Several of them snicker. Whatever. At least I didn’t wear a skirt tonight, otherwise, I’d be mooning half of the bar by now. Hold on. Is mooning the bar worth points in the scavenger hunt?

  “But we can’t leave before someone has been declared a winner.” I pound my fists on Grayson’s back.

  “Like we don’t know you made three of those baskets,” Hailey says, and I look over. She’s also being carried out of the bar.

  “What did you do?”

  “I asked the bartender if I could kiss him.”

  I swing my torso in her direction to whisper. “And? Was he a good kisser?”

  Aiden growls. “She did not kiss the bartender.”

  “No frogs for you, young lady,” Phoebe giggles. Ryker has her slung over his shoulder like she’s a sack of potatoes.

  “What? You make no sense.”

  Ryker scowls. “Because someone couldn’t stop at one free shot from the bartender.”

  “What? It would have been rude not to accept the second shot.”

  Ryker slaps her ass. “And what’s your excuse for taking the third shot then?”

  “It was yummy.”

  Grayson dumps me on the front seat of his truck while Aiden and Ryker get their women settled in the back.

  “I declare myself the winner!”

  “You’re a cheater is what you are,” Hailey grumps from the back seat.

  “Oh please, like I don’t know you two ganged up together to beat me.”

  “The night is young. Let’s hit up McGraw’s,” is Hailey’s response.

  Grayson switches on his truck. “McGraw’s it is.”

  It’s not the bachelorette party I planned, but the night still rocks since I spend it with my favorite people in the world. Now if only Grayson was mine instead of merely my chaperone, my night would be perfect. Whoa! Where did such a crazy thought come from?

  Little Susan raises her hand. It was me! We don’t need a man, I remind her. Do too! She shouts and then does an exaggerated full body shiver in anticipation of Grayson being ours. Behave or I’ll put a chastity belt on you, I threaten. You can try, she sings.

  I hate to admit it, but she’s right. No one can control Little Susan. Least of all me.

  Chapter 17

  Save water, drink beer

  “Hey, I wasn’t expecting you,” I say to Grayson as I open the door.

  Don’t get me wrong. I’m happy to see him. Little Susan is more than happy to see him. She starts singing When a Man Loves a Woman at the top of her voice. I shut that shit down real fast. No one is loving anyone here.

  Grayson coughs. “I have some stuff I want to show you.”

  I motion him inside. “Come in. You want a beer? My first batch of Session IPA is finished. I was getting ready to try the first one.”

  I may have taste tested while in my brew shack, but the taste can always vary when the beer is bottled and chilled. Yep, I went there. If you didn’t think I was a beer geek before, I’ve confirmed it now.

  I grab two bottles from the refrigerator and motion to my dining room table. I’m not stupid. Sitting in my living room together on my sofa is a recipe for disaster. Little Susan mewls in protest. Yeah, well, learn to live with it, I tell her.

  We clink bottles, but I don’t take a sip. I want to watch his reaction to the taste. Bad idea. His throat moves as he swallows and suddenly it’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. My dry spell has obviously been going on too long if I’m finding a man’s throat sexy. I need to make some time to hit the club this weekend and find a man to scratch my itch.

  Little Susan harrumphs and declares she will not be participating in any cheating on Grayson. I seriously don’t have time for her craziness now.

  “It’s good,” Grayson says as he places his bottle on the table. “It’s crisp and almost fruity.”

  I smile. “It should have a fruity hop flavor. I went with grapefruit.”

  I take a sip of my own, barely enough to coat my mouth. I let it hit my lips, gums, teeth, and all around my tongue. As I swallow, I keep my mouth closed and exhale through my nose. Hmm…not bad.

  Grayson clears his throat, and my eyes fly open. His cheeks are flushed. Is he sick? Before I have a chance to ask, he asks a question of his own.

  “What makes it a Session IPA anyway?”

  “Session IPA is a flavorful beer with a lower alcohol percentage that won’t weigh you down.”

  He takes another sip. “I can taste it’s less heavy. Where does the name session come from?”

  I raise an eyebrow. “You’re awful curious. You sure you want to hear me geek out over beer?”

  “It’s interesting. Besides, if I’m going to help with your marketing, I need to know more.” Help with my marketing? Was he serious about helping out? I thought he was being nice is all. “Now, tell me why it’s called a session IPA.”

  If he wants me to bore him with my beer nerdiness, who am I to deny him? “The name comes from WWI-era England when workers were allowed to drink on the job. Workers were allocated two ‘sessions’ of drinking. But the beer had to be lighter than usual, thus the lower alcohol percentage.”

  “Cool. I think it will be a big hit in the springtime.”

  I beam. “I hope so.”

  He sets his bottle down on the table and starts to play with the label. “We need to talk.”

  Those words cause ice to fill my veins. What does he want to talk about? Did he find a girlfriend? Is he getting married? Is he moving away? Leaving Milwaukee? I can think of at least a dozen more disaster scenarios, but I curl my hands into fists and dig my fingernails my palms to stop my mind from whirling out of control.

  “About what?” I manage to squeeze out.

>   “Me being your sperm donor.”

  “Oh god,” I bury my face in my hands as my cheeks heat up. “Can we not talk about it? I can’t believe I asked you to be my baby daddy.”

  He chuckles. “Well, you did ask me, and I’ve been thinking about it.”

  My head rears up. “You’ve been thinking about it? You would seriously donate your sperm to me?” I’m not sure if I’m excited or scared or what.

  He clears his throat. “No, I won’t be your sperm donor.”

  “Oh.” I deflate. Wait. I’m not disappointed, am I? I shake my head. I’ll have to obsess over this some other time. A time when Grayson is not sitting across from me studying my every reaction to his words.

  “I want you to have whatever you desire in this world, but I can’t give you babies.”

  My heart squeezes at his words. There’s nothing I want more in the world than for him to give me babies, but it’s not in the cards for us.

  “I understand.”

  He reaches across the table and grasps my hand. Electricity sparks and runs up my arm. I snatch my hand away. I can’t allow my body to get any ideas of where this is going. My head knows better.

  “I don’t think you do. I’m saying no to donating my sperm, not no to other things. Just no for now.”

  I squint my eyes and study him. What the hell is he talking about?

  “Could you explain for the dummies in the back of the class?”

  “You’re no dummy,” he growls. “But I will explain because I realize it’s confusing.”

  He falls silent. I watch as he peels the label off of his beer. The longer the silence lasts the more I’m convinced I am not going to like what he has to say.

  “And? Are you going to explain sometime this year? Or do I need to pencil in an appointment with you for next year?”

  “Smartass.” He grins. “I can’t donate sperm because I don’t want my child to grow up without a father.”

  I’m confused. “I thought you had no problem with single moms?”

  Of course, I was drunk the one and only time we discussed this topic, but I’m pretty sure he was the one pushing me to have children without a man.

  “I’m not explaining this very well.” He isn’t, but I don’t call him on it. This conversation is awkward enough as it is.