Scheme of Maneuver: A Career Soldier Military Romance

by Tawdra Kandle

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Synopsis

  Glossary of Military Terms Used

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Epilogue

  Other Books

  Acknowledgements

  About the Author

  scheme of maneuver

  Career Soldier, Book 6

  TAWDRA KANDLE

  Scheme of Maneuver: Career Soldier, Book 6

  Copyright © 2017 by Tawdra Kandle

  All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  Cover design by Meg Murrey

  Formatting by Champagne Formats

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Synopsis

  Glossary of Military Terms Used

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Epilogue

  Other Books

  Acknowledgements

  About the Author

  Dedication

  To Kristi Rose, who came up with this idea in the first place, setting the stage for me to discover these six hot Army men and the spunky ladies who love them. Thank you, Kristi . . . and blessings to you and your military family!

  And to the two soldiers who have held my heart:

  My daddy, USMA class of 1965, who served two tours in Vietnam and made me an Army brat;

  My husband, USMA class of 1987, who took me to both Fort Lee and to Hawaii as an Army wife! Thanks for thirty years of inspiration. I love you.

  These are the men of the 94th ID. They fight with honor, they defend their nation and their brothers fiercely, and when they love, they do it with single-minded passion.

  Owen Hughes is an enigma among his friends. He’s a man of few words, and although he enjoys his share of fun with women, he’s never found anyone worth making an effort to pursue. With all of his friends now married or in committed relationships, Owen feels like a lone wolf, the last man standing. He’s not sure if that makes him a hero or a loser.

  And then he meets Jacey.

  This sassy ray of sunshine is unlike any woman Owen’s ever known. She’s full of life, eager to embrace her next adventure . . . and when she decides that next adventure is Owen, her pursuit of him is relentless.

  For the first time ever, Owen has found a woman he’ll move heaven and earth to win. He’s fallen hard. There’s just one small problem: Jacey is the younger sister of one of his best friends.

  The last man standing is about to fall . . . hard. And the undeniable heat between Owen and Jacey will make every repercussion worth all the trouble.

  Glossary of Military Terms Used

  BDU: Battle Dress Uniform, more commonly known as fatigues. This is the uniform worn by most soldiers on duty. These are made of a heavy camouflage cotton, either in dark green (jungle fatigues) or lighter sand colors (desert fatigues).

  BOQ: Bachelor Officer Quarters, where unmarried officers can live. Officers also have the option to live off-post, in their own rented or owned home. While on temporary duty, officers are assigned quarters in the BOQ at their temporary post.

  PT: Physical Training, which is a set of morning exercises required of all soldiers.

  TDY: Temporary Duty, wherein a soldier is temporarily assigned to a post other than his/her permanent assignment. Temporary duty might be assigned for a short course, for training, or for a limited-time duty of another sort.

  PCS: Permanent Change of Station, where a soldier and his/her family move from one permanent assignment to another. This usually takes places every 3-4 years, depending on the branch of service or other circumstances.

  Dress Blues: the uniform worn by Army officers and enlisted men on more formal occasions.

  Air Assault School: In Fort Campbell, Kentucky, the United States Army Air Assault School qualifies soldiers to conduct air mobile and air assault helicopter operations, to include aircraft orientation, sling-load operations, proper rappelling techniques and fast-rope techniques.

  MP: Military police

  E-5: A Non-Commissioned Officer rank (Sergeant)

  USMA: United States Military Academy at West Point, an academy established in 1802 for the purpose of training an officer corps. Located on the Hudson River in New York.

  ROTC: Reserve Officers Training Corps, or the college program by which students commit to training for reserve or active duty following graduation in exchange for some tuition/expenses coverage.

  Chapter One

  Owen

  “Ladies and gentlemen, it’s time for another official first! Please turn your attention to the center of the room, as Captain and Mrs. Max Remington take the spotlight for their first dance as a married couple.”

  “Oh, my God, how romantic is this!” The bridesmaid, who had been inching her chair closer to mine since all of the wedding party had been seated at the head table, gripped my arm, her unnaturally long nails digging into my wrist. “They are so adorable together. And this song . . . it’s perfect. Oh, I want to cry.”

  I stiffened in my uncomfortable wooden folding chair and prayed to whatever deity might be listening that this chick did not burst into tears. If there was one thing I couldn’t take, it was sobbing women. My eyes darted around the tent, looking for someone who might come save me, but all the attention was riveted on the bride and groom, as it should have been.

  “Don’t worry.” Samantha’s cousin Ellen, who was at least five years older than me and married, was seated on my other side. She leaned close to murmur in my ear, “Sam told me they’re not doing a wedding party dance. No one’s going to force you into three minutes of hell with an overeager bridesmaid.”

  I shot her a grateful smile. “Thanks. I’m just not much of a dancer.”

  “My husband isn’t, either. That’s how I recognized the look of panic on your face.”

  “Ha.” Grimacing, I managed a weak chuckle. “Didn’t know it showed.”

  “Don’t worry. Your secret is safe with me.” She pushed back her chair and rose to her feet, patting the other bridesmaid on the shoulder. “Lonnie, I’m making a trip to the restroom. Care to join me? You might want to, uh, powder your nose before they do the bouquet toss.”

  Lonnie frowned. “Powder my nose?”

  The other woman sighed, her patience clearly getting thin. “You’ll want to pee before you have to make a dive for the flowers, okay? Got it?”

  “Oh!” Lonnie brightened. “Good idea.” She transferred her grip on my body from my arm to my neck. I cringed as her nails skimmed under my ear. “Now, don’t you go anywhere, you hear? I’ll be right back. I think we need to have a dance!”

  Luckily
for both of us, she flounced away before I figured out how to respond, because I had a feeling neither of us would’ve been too happy with what I had to say. Once they were out of sight, I stood up, too, and eased away from the table, stepping cautiously around the prissy little chairs.

  The music got louder as it morphed from the slow number to something with a faster beat. It seemed like just about everyone in the tent was on the dance floor. I moved stealthily around the tables with their pristine white covers, hoping no one would notice the groomsman who was sneaking away from the reception.

  It wasn’t that I didn’t like a good time, and I was sure as hell happy for Max and Samantha. Those two fit together like they’d been made from complementary molds, which I guessed was kind of weird, considering how different they’d seemed at first. Samantha was a politically-liberal woman who was passionate about causes, never hesitating to march or picket when she saw injustice. Max was the straightest of arrows, the latest in a long line of Army officers in his family. When they’d begun dating, I’d privately had my doubts.

  But somehow, they made it work. Max had relaxed a little, and Samantha had softened, too. They hadn’t changed, exactly, but incredibly, they’d both become better versions of themselves. I’d had to admit that this was one pair who could probably make it for the long haul.

  I ducked under the opening in the tent and stood just outside, looking in at the party. The music slowed, and I watched different couples find each other and meld together. There were the bride and groom, of course. And near them, pressed together, with eyes only for each other, were Kade Braggs and his wife, Leah. They didn’t get very many nights away from their baby daughter, and it looked like they were making the most of it now.

  My eyes roved over the others, too: Jake and Harper, who was the maid of honor, were laughing as he twirled her around. I remembered the night those two had met at a bar. I’d been a witness to that particular hook-up—or at least the beginning of it—and no one was more amazed than me that Jake and Harper seemed so devoted to each other now.

  Shaw was holding his girl Delia tight. Those two had just gotten engaged two weeks ago. The danger ranger had definitely met his match in the feisty schoolteacher. As I watched them, he rubbed her back and whispered something in her ear that had her giggling. Next to them, Derek was dancing with Tasha, the general’s daughter he’d fallen hard for when she’d been his physical therapist. Derek reached around the small redhead to poke Shaw in the back, and Tasha grabbed his hand. Even from here, I could see she was scolding him, but he only laughed.

  Yeah, love was in the air. Only, it seemed I was immune to this particular strain of the ailment. Of all the company commanders in the battalion, I was the lone single guy. The sole bachelor. The last man standing.

  Not that I was complaining. I’d never met a woman who was worth the ups and downs I’d seen my buddies navigate over the last year or so. My life was my own, and I liked it that way, thanks.

  I moved away from the tent, taking a deep breath as the music faded behind me. Samantha and Max had chosen a perfect setting for their big day, I had to admit. The plantation had been around for fifty years before the Civil War, but it had aged well. The ceremony itself had been held inside the huge open foyer of the stately home; now, the tent that housed the reception was set up on the expansive lawn. A few yards away from where I’d paused was a large tree with wide branches that rustled in the cooling summer air. I meandered over there, and leaning against the sturdy trunk, I closed my eyes and let my shoulders droop.

  “Are you hiding?”

  The unexpected question startled me, and I opened my eyes to see a woman regarding me with a tilted head. My first thought was that she was gorgeous. Her long hair was chestnut blonde, and her eyes were huge and brown, surrounded by a fringe of lashes. The flowered dress she wore was short, showing off miles of tanned leg. The neckline wasn’t too low, but the material clung to a pair of tits that made my mouth water.

  Damn.

  Her eyes narrowed as she studied me. “Don’t you like weddings?”

  “Um . . .” I cleared my throat. “Yeah, they’re okay, I guess. I just needed a little air.” I pushed against the tree to stand up. “Plus, the music was really loud. Also, there was a bridesmaid who was determined to corral me into a dance. So maybe I am hiding.”

  “Ah.” She nodded. “I needed a little escape, too. So many people.” She shrugged, and then from behind her back, she produced a bottle of wine. “I just happen to have liberated some provisions when I ran away. If I were willing to share my wine, could I share your hiding spot?” She smiled, and suddenly, my body went onto full alert, every nerve ending singing hallelujah and screaming YES.

  “Uh.” I swallowed, cursing my temporary inability to form a coherent word. “Sure. I think we can work out a mutually beneficial arrangement.”

  She laughed. “I was hoping you’d say that.” Pulling the cork from the bottle, she took a healthy slug of wine, her lips wrapping around the opening in a way that made my dick go instantly hard.

  Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she passed the bottle to me. “Cheers.” One eyebrow quirked upward. “Here’s to new friends.”

  I closed my fingers over her smaller ones, not missing how warm they were. “New friends. Yeah, that works.” I gripped the neck and lifted the wine. The glass of the bottle’s mouth tasted like something sweet and slippery even before the liquid slid over my tongue. Her lipstick, I guessed, and somehow, it felt intimate to taste her this way.

  “You’re a friend of the groom’s, I’m guessing.” She tucked her hair behind one ear, smiling up at me.

  “Guilty. Was it the haircut or the uniform that clued you in?” I brushed a hand over the front of my dress blues.

  “Let’s say it was a combo, plus the fact that you were sitting at the head table with the rest of the wedding party. I know groomsmen are sometimes the friends or family of the bride, but in this case, knowing what I do about Sam, I doubted it.”

  I frowned. “You saw me at the table?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Of course, I did. I also saw the bridesmaid who had herself plastered all over you, and I saw you make your getaway.” She chugged the wine and held it up for me. “That’s when I stole the libations and followed you.”

  Her frankness was surprising. I was used to women who played games, who flirted and then pretended to be indifferent or acted surprised when I paid attention to them. This girl was straightforward, and I decided I kind of liked it.

  “If I ask you to come sit with me on the grass over there by the wall, will you tell me that you’re afraid of getting grass stains on your dress?” I swirled the wine in the bottle. Yeah, it was sort of a test; if she was too prissy to sit on the ground with me, it said something about her.

  She laughed. “Hell, no. I’m not that precious. And my feet are killing me, so sitting down sounds like heaven.”

  “Okay, then.” I pushed myself off the tree and offered her my hand. “Let’s go.”

  The lights that surrounded the tent area didn’t extend quite this far, and we were both quiet as we watched our steps, careful not to stumble on the uneven ground. Her hand inside mine felt oddly familiar, as if my fingers were perfectly suited for closing over hers.

  The wall I’d indicated was low, made of large, round field stones. I braced myself on the top of it and lowered my body to the ground. My new friend settled herself next to me, crossing her legs while making sure her dress didn’t reveal too much. I liked that; sure, I enjoyed sneaking a peek at a dip into cleavage or little glance when the wind lifted skirts, but women who were too eager to show me the goods made me uncomfortable.

  Once she was leaning against the stone wall, I offered her the wine again. “Here you go. By the way, if we’re going to share both booze and a hiding place, we should probably introduce ourselves. I’m Owen Hughes.”

  She tilted back the bottle and drank deep, running her thumb over her bottom lip afterward to wipe
off the wine. “Nice to meet you, Owen. I’m . . . Jacqueline.”

  I noticed both the brief hesitation and the fact that she didn’t give me her last name. That wasn’t too surprising; sometimes girls were cautious about giving away too much. I didn’t blame her. It was a dangerous world out there, and with social media, if she offered up her full name, there was nothing to stop me from stalking her online.

  So I only nodded. “Nice to meet you, Jacqueline. You already know I’m here for the groom. What about you? Bride or groom?”

  She wrinkled her nose. “Well . . . kind of both. I met Max and Sam at the same time through, um, mutual friends. I just moved here from California, and Samantha was nice enough to invite me to come today with my friends.”

  “She’s pretty cool.” Settling the bottle on the grass between us, I rested my head against the cold stones and closed my eyes. “What brought you out here from the West Coast? New job?”

  “Not really.” I heard something in her tone, a mix of hesitation and uncertainty. “I’m sort of between jobs right now. Between careers, I guess you could say.” She snorted. “I’m twenty-six years old, and I still don’t know what I want to be when I grow up. How pathetic is that?”

  “Not at all pathetic.” I opened one eye and turned my head a little so I could see her better. Jacqueline was staring straight ahead into the velvet darkness, her brows drawn together. Before I thought about what I was doing, I reached one finger over to smooth the wrinkles on her forehead. “Hey. Seriously. There’s no rule about having to plan out the rest of your life when you hit a certain age. I think there’s something to be said for taking it slow and seeing what you really enjoy before you commit to something.”