by Cat Johnson
“But how am I going to do this thing when I’m downrange? I’m deploying forward with my guys in a couple of weeks.”
The company commander shook his head. “Not a problem. They’re already here.”
Here at the garrison, here? And who exactly was here? Hawk’s heart jumped. Perhaps he’d misunderstood. Before totally panicking, he decided to clarify first. “Sir? Who’s already where?”
“The photographer and the marketing person. I just got word from the gate that they’ve arrived. I sent Sergeant Pettit down to meet them and escort them here. In fact, they should have arrived by now...”
Pettit? No, no, no, no.
How the hell was Hawk going to keep this thing a secret if Pettit knew? The teasing would be relentless. Soldiers never forgot. He’d have to live with this forever, until the day he died, which would hopefully be soon.
Upon that thought, Pettit flew through the door. “Captain. Your civilians are here, sir.”
Pulling Hawk aside, Pettit whispered with a smile, “Hawk, wait until you see this marketing chick from the States. Blonde. Cute.”
Great. A woman no less. Hawk got to embarrass himself and play model in front of some blonde as well as his team leader Pettit. Just perfect.
Pettit, practically bouncing in his boots, turned back to the captain. “Sir. Miss Price was telling me about the ads. Do you know who they’re going to use as their model?”
Hawk’s hope grew. Pettit didn’t know. Maybe there was still a chance...
The captain’s face broke out into a huge smile, and all hope fled. “You’re standing next to him, Sergeant Pettit.”
Pettit’s eyes opened wide as he looked at Hawk. “You mean Sergeant Hawkins, sir?”
With a disgusted sigh, Hawk nodded. “Yeah. It’s me.”
“Wow. My staff sergeant is going to be the face of the Army. How cool is that?” Pettit grinned, looking totally thrilled.
Hawk stifled a groan of dismay. “Yeah, great. Real cool.”
Somewhere far in the distance, Hawk imagined he heard Dalton laughing.
Chapter Seven
“Staff Sergeant Hawkins. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Inside the room they’d been assigned to use, Emily stepped forward and delivered the greeting she’d settled on and rehearsed in her mind during the flight over. She smiled and tried to stop her hand from shaking as she extended it toward Hawk.
“Sergeant.” Hawk folded burly Popeye-like forearms across his chest.
“Excuse me?” Emily lowered her hand.
“It’s just sergeant. Sergeant Hawkins.”
“But it said your rank was Staff Sergeant.”
“My rank is Staff Sergeant, but you only say sergeant when addressing me.”
It didn’t seem like that big of a difference that he would have to correct her like that. “Oh. Sorry.”
She’d tried to be friendly. He met her overtures with what amounted to thinly veiled rudeness followed by one long glance that covered her from head to toe and all the parts in between.
Feeling exposed after that look, even in her cashmere turtleneck, wide-legged wool trousers and leather boots, she couldn’t resist the urge to cross her own arms over her chest. Boy, was she glad she’d chosen pants over a skirt. She didn’t need him ogling her legs too.
“I’ll be photographing you today, Sergeant.” Jai, apparently not going to make the same mistake at camaraderie that Emily had made, nodded from the corner as he continued to unpack the cameras and lights they’d carried in from the car.
Silent and expressionless, Hawk nodded back.
Staff Sergeant David Hawk Hawkins was a lot of things, and to Emily’s vast and bottomless devastation, so far none of them were good. Her heart fell. It felt as if Hawk had stomped on it, and her hopes, with one slam of his very large combat boots.
He had the muscles she’d dreamed of, but along with them came a truckload of testosterone-fueled bad attitude. He seemed every inch the serious warrior his picture had hinted at, but she sensed he was also as stubborn and unyielding as a mule.
The Neanderthal before her, the Hawk himself, waited with a stone-faced expression as Jai set up the equipment. But no, maybe he wasn’t as stony as he appeared. Beneath the cold, steely exterior, Emily sensed molten anger bubbling just below the surface.
Maybe his attitude was just resistance to the assignment. Katie had warned her that could be the case. In fact, Katie had been convinced Hawk would back out of it in the beginning. If he was unhappy about this, that could account for the standoffishness.
It could be partially her own fault too. She was so used to working with sensitive, artistic, metrosexual straight guys or openly gay males that she simply didn’t know what to do with a real manly man when she came across one.
Perhaps that was the problem with her dating life too. Something to think about...later. Right now she had an unhappy hulk of a male to handle. If only she could get him past this.
He was handsome in a rough-and-ready kind of way. Hot actually, with dark hair cropped close to his head, deep intense eyes that gave her a view into his emotions, which was not exactly a plus at the moment, and a body so big it would definitely let a woman know she was being held.
Emily picked her heart back up off the floor where it had first been trampled by Hawk’s cold reception, dusted it off and tried to salvage both this assignment and her dreams.
“So I was thinking first we can take some shots inside using the plain backdrop Jai set up. That way I can superimpose different backgrounds for various ads as needed. Then, if it’s still light enough, we can move outdoors and scout some locations for exterior action shots for tomorrow’s shoot.” Steeling her nerves, she made direct eye contact with him.
No comment.
Emily sighed. This was not going to be easy, but nothing worth doing was. She turned to her only ally in the room. “Jai? What do you think?”
Jai looked up from the light meter in his hand. “Huh? Oh, yeah. Sounds good, Em.”
Turning back to Hawk, she let her gaze roam over him the way his had traveled up and down her before. The fright from the guards a distant memory now, she was back to appreciating the benefits of a man dressed in camouflage.
“We can shoot the camouflage outfit first, since you’re already wearing it.” Emily noticed one dark brow cock up. She paused and waited.
“Outfit?” Hawk scowled. “It’s a uniform. An Army advanced combat uniform or ACU to be exact.”
She felt her face pale at his censor. “Okay. Sorry.”
This had not turned out at all the way she’d pictured in her dreams. In fact, it was becoming more and more like a nightmare.
Jai looked as if he was nearly ready, so Emily figured she’d better be brave and broach the next subject. “So we’d like to um...” how to say this without getting shot down again, “...make your, uh, physical form stand out in the photos.”
There was that brow again, but this time accompanied by a smirk.
He remained silent, so she continued. “So maybe you could roll up the sleeves of your camouflage uniform shirt so we can see your arms a bit?”
Even though she’d remembered to call it a uniform and not an outfit—as if she would ever forget that again—she still got the disapproving look and head shake.
“No can do. And it’s called a jacket, not a shirt.”
Why couldn’t he just do one little thing without being difficult as well as correcting her terminology? Humph. As if she should know what military clothes are called.
“Why can’t you?” Emily widened her stance, ready for battle. He wanted to argue, she could argue.
“Because it’s against the rules, that’s why.”
“But I swear I’ve seen guys with their sleeves—” The steady sway of his head still shaking at her finally stopped her in her tracks. “What?”
“You may have seen it, but it is against our regulations and I can’t do it.”
He meant won’t do it. Emily couldn’t i
magine that his captain really gave a darn what his sleeves looked like.
“Maybe we can ask someone if it would be okay—”
He actually laughed at that. “No.”
With a huff, she gave in.
“Fine. Are you allowed to take off your jacket?” Emily emphasized the word that he’d insisted on correcting her on. “Can you wear just your T-shirt or is that against the rules too?”
“Yes, I’m allowed.”
Finally, a yes, but still he didn’t move.
“Could you please take off your jacket?”
Hawk smirked boldly but thankfully complied. With a chuckle, he took it off.
Now he was laughing at her? Emily planted her hands on her hips. “What’s so funny?”
“It’s been a long time since a woman ordered me to take my clothes off. Maybe this gig won’t be so bad after all.” Hawk hung what still looked more like a shirt than a jacket on the back of a chair and turned back to her. He paused with a hand on his nylon belt. “Pants too, doll?”
Doll?
She narrowed her eyes at Hawk. “No, thanks. Maybe later.”
Pig. Worst of all, a pig with bulging biceps and beautiful pecs beneath a very tight T-shirt. His dog tag chain nestled right between those delectable pecs. Emily suddenly imagined him standing before her without the shirt. All big and burly.
What was she doing? He was such a...a... There simply were no words to describe him.
The chuckle from Jai’s direction didn’t help Emily’s mood. She shot him a nasty look as well.
Emily turned back to Hawk and sighed. She had to get into a professional mindset. No more pouting that he wasn’t Prince Charming. No more bickering because he was acting like the typical difficult model. She was used to that at least.
Thinking like Katie would, Emily imagined the finished print advertising. Hawk, standing in his T-shirt and camo pants. Arms crossed...make that hairy arms crossed.
Darn. BB was practically hairless but Hawk, no such luck. What were the chances of Emily being able to get him to wax the hair off his forearms? And if they chose to do a few topless shots, would he wax his chest? Probably his back would require de-hairing, also. Stifling a laugh at the ridiculous notion, she figured the odds of him agreeing were slim to none.
Could they airbrush out that much hair? And exactly how many tattoos were the tan T-shirt and camouflage pants hiding? Now that she was getting to know him better, he seemed the type to have ink, and lots of it. Probably a really crude naked lady or obscenities. Or maybe some morbid, bloody skull tattoo. Emily could only guess. She and Katie hadn’t discussed the possibility of tatts. Perhaps they could airbrush any of those out too.
Then a small detail she’d missed before hit her.
She frowned. “Your shirt. It’s tan.”
“Yeah, so?”
“So, shouldn’t it be green? You know, Army green. No?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s the rules.”
“Oh, come on. I know I’ve seen military men in olive-green shirts.”
He nodded. “I’m sure you have. Marines wear green shirts. The Army wears tan T-shirts with the universal-camouflage pattern for our combat uniform.”
She sighed again, deeper. Fighting the rules seemed useless, but she couldn’t resist one last word. “Well, that tan does nothing to bring out the color of your eyes.”
Hawk smiled broadly at that, looking genuinely amused, an emotion Emily had begun to doubt was in his repertoire.
“I’ll make sure to point that out to my superiors. Maybe they’ll consider changing the regulation uniform in deference to the color of my eyes.”
Well, that was the highest amount of syllables she’d heard come out of him all at once the entire day.
Emily had a strong urge to stick her tongue out at him. He’d probably laugh at her for that too, so she didn’t give him the satisfaction.
She heard Jai’s shutter and looked up to see him snapping candid photos of Hawk, who went from a laughing smile at her expense, to a frown, to looking stern and kind of scary in a matter of seconds.
“That’s great, Sergeant.” Jai wore a grin. “Perfect. I want your whole range of expressions over the next few days.”
That led to an even more comical expression of horror clearly written across Hawk’s face. Had he just realized that whether he was happy about it or not, this photo shoot and this ad campaign starring him was going to happen? Difficult or not, he was stuck with them for the next few days and there was nothing he could do about it.
Now it was Emily’s turn to smile.
The hellish part of a day he’d rather forget about finally done, Hawk headed for his bunk only to be waylaid by Wally at the door of their barracks.
“Hey, Hawk. We’re heading out to get a few beers. We figure we'd better get it while we still can since there’ll be no drinking or anything else fun where we’re going. Wanna come?”
He could sure as hell use a beer about now after what he’d just been through, but he couldn’t go out on a bender and get drunk tonight. He had to get up early in the morning and meet with the cute and curvy but dim-headed blonde and her smart-ass Rastafarian photographer again. Tomorrow they had to scout locations for exterior action shots and then shoot outside if the weather was good. They hadn’t had enough light left to do it today.
Scouting locations and worrying about the light. Great, now he was starting to think like a frigging model.
“Nah. I’m heading to my room.”
“Where the hell have you been for the past couple of hours, anyway?” Wally frowned as if he’d just noticed Hawk’s extended and unexplained absence just as Pettit walked up.
Hawk shot a quick warning glance at Pettit and answered Wally’s question. “Special assignment.”
Pettit froze where he was. Hopefully the threats Hawk had levied against him in the captain’s office that afternoon would keep Pettit’s mouth shut and it would stay a special assignment as far as the rest of the squad was concerned.
He leveled Pettit one more stern look. His team leader, who couldn’t comprehend why Hawk was so miserable about the whole modeling thing, rolled his eyes behind Wally’s back.
“Yeah, but what kind of special assignment?” Wally continued relentlessly.
Hawk let out a short laugh. “The classified kind.”
“Fine, whatever. We’re leaving in thirty if you change your mind and decide you wanna come.” Wally scowled and disappeared into his room.
Pettit slunk closer. “I don’t understand why you—”
“My assignment. My choice.” Hawk cut him off.
His team leader sighed. “Fine, but if you think your face can be featured in every Army ad worldwide and no one will notice, you’re crazy.”
“And if you think we’re going to see any advertising in those mountains in Afghanistan, you’re crazy. We’ll be long gone by the time those ads hit, and a year from now or more, when we finally do come home, they’ll have realized their mistake in using me and will have moved on to some other poster boy. Believe me.” Hawk crossed his arms, certain his prediction would come true.
“For your sake, Hawk, I hope you’re right.” Shaking his head, Pettit turned back to his room.
Oh, Hawk would make sure he was right. He’d be so unpleasant to work with Goldilocks would ensure he’d never work on another assignment with her again. She’d go running looking for a new model. Dalton would just have to find her a new sucker for this job.
It was a damn shame too, to have to do that to her. She was a looker, if you liked the young and starry-eyed type. Hawk tended to go for the more experienced women himself. He had neither the time nor the patience for innocent types like the bubbly blonde from today who had wanted him to roll up the sleeves of his camo outfit.
Shaking his head with a laugh at that memory, he pivoted toward his own room to get his beauty sleep and curse Dalton for the thousandth time that day.
&
nbsp; Apparently modeling was harder work than it seemed judging by his exhaustion. Quite simply, he was done in. Running through the Alps for two straight days had taken its toll on his body. And now his special assignment had done a real number on his brain too. It all caught up with him at once.
Sleep found him the moment his head hit his lumpy pillow.
“Take off your shirt, Hawk.”
He did, and Goldilocks ran a brightly painted, long fingernail across his chest. He could feel her touch on his skin. It caused a shiver to shoot down through him. Standing on tiptoe in her mile-high stilettos to reach his ear, she breathed, “I want you. Now.”
She didn’t need to ask him twice.
Hawk reached down and hoisted her up. She wrapped her legs around him. Beneath her miniskirt, he cupped each gloriously round, bare ass cheek her thong exposed.
Somehow, she freed his erection from his pants. A slight shove had the thin string of her thong pushed to the side and him sliding easily into her with a groan and a shudder.
She gripped his head with two hands, kissing his face, his neck. When she reached his mouth, she slipped her tongue inside.
He could feel her, tight, wet, hot, as she slid up and down his slick length.
“Harder, Hawk.” She was demanding, insatiable as the muscles deep inside her began to grip and pulse around him. She cried out, loud, unashamed, with each of his thrusts until he lost all control and came with her.
Breathing heavily, Hawk awoke alone in his bunk. He’d been dreaming.
Hawk, who usually slept like a rock, had actually dreamed. Not a nice, normal nightmare either, like forgetting to get dressed and attending a Promotions Board meeting in his underwear or anything like that. Oh, no. Thanks to Dalton and his little modeling assignment, Hawk’s slumber had been visited by images more appropriate for triple-X films than his weary brain.
The sticky mess covering the spent erection in his boxer briefs was a much-too-real reminder of his shame. But that was nothing compared to the knowledge that in mere hours he’d have to look Goldilocks in the eye and try not to remember how amazing it felt to fuck her, even if it had been only in his dreams.
