Officer and the Secret (Semper Fidelis. Always Faithful.)

by Murray, Jeanette

  The entire thing broke his heart.

  He crouched down and placed her arm back in the tub, knowing otherwise she would wake up to the pins-and-needles feeling. Rubbing up and down her arm, bare thanks to her now-sweaty tank top, he waited to see her reaction.

  She was so still, he stared at her chest to make sure she was still breathing. But the rise and fall, deep and steady, told him everything was fine. She just needed the sleep.

  She would hate him for it later, but he couldn’t just leave her in the bathtub. No matter how independent she wanted to be. Carefully, as smooth as possible, he got a grip under her and lifted her in his arms. She barely moved, just shifted almost imperceptibly in his arms until she curled towards his chest.

  He carried her to her bedroom, picking his way through the minefield of scrub tops and bottoms, socks, and a pair of flip-flops littering the floor. God, she was worse than Skye. Her bed, still unmade, just provided an easy place for him to deposit his cargo.

  She settled into the mattress with a murmur of nonsense. He covered her up, then debated it. She looked hot, but cold at the same time. Like she’d been sweating, and the sweat cooled over her skin so now she was clammy. Did that mean she should stay cool? Or warm? Shit, he wasn’t the nurse, she was. But it was food poisoning, not the plague, so he took his chances and covered her up. A little wispy sigh of relief escaped her lips, and she turned on her side, facing him.

  He brushed the hair that clung to her face back behind her ear. Glancing around, he grabbed the wastebasket and placed it by the bed, just in case. But it looked like maybe she weathered the worst of it. Because he couldn’t resist, he sat on the edge of the bed and rubbed her arm through the covers.

  Madison cracked one eye open. “Hey.”

  “Hey, pukey.”

  She smiled, though it was a small one. “Didn’t anyone tell you name-calling is a horrible way to get girls to like you?”

  “I only need one girl to like me. And she’s stuck with me already.” He brushed her hair back from her neck. “Why didn’t you call, baby?”

  “I can take care of myself,” the stubborn ass said. “I don’t need you running to rescue me.”

  “I didn’t run, I drove my bike.” When she didn’t laugh, he sighed. “I want to be here when you’re sick. I want to know. I want to help.”

  “It’s food poisoning. I’m fine.”

  “So then tell me that. I never would have known if Veronica hadn’t shown up at Dwayne’s place.”

  “You would have made your way here eventually.”

  “Maybe. Or maybe I would have given you your space for the night and missed out on all the fun.”

  “Lucky you,” she moaned and turned her face into the pillow.

  He rubbed circles over her back some more, waiting until her muscles relaxed and the wave of pain passed. “Maybe we should just move in together. Then I’d always know if you’re sick.”

  He said it as a joke, but after it was out, he knew it was exactly what he wanted.

  She said nothing, and he thought maybe she’d fallen asleep. Which was just as well, since he didn’t want it hanging over his head that he’d asked her to move in together while she was—

  “Did you say what I think you said?” Madison’s voice was muffled by the pillow, but still clear.

  “Uh… yeah.”

  “Nice timing, champ.” She raised her face from the pillow, and he held back a smile at the pink crease down one cheek. “I’m near death’s door and you’re asking to move in here.” She frowned. “What about Veronica?”

  “So we move into my—”

  “If you even think about suggesting we move into that apartment better known as the gateway to hell, I will hit you.”

  “Weak as you are, that couldn’t be too bad.”

  “Don’t tempt.”

  She looked ready to try it, so he shushed her and helped her rotate onto her side in a more comfortable position. Then he crawled in behind her and pulled her back against his chest. “Sleep now. We’ll talk about it more later.”

  “Love you.”

  “Love you too, pukey.”

  ***

  Veronica sat up slowly, her head pounding. A bright light shone through her eyelids, but she didn’t want to crack them open, too scared of what she’d end up seeing.

  Is this the light that I’m supposed to walk into? Have I died? Because my body sure feels like it took a big enough beating.

  She let her senses return one by one. Body aching, beaten, battered. Moving her arm an inch felt like it took forever. But she brushed up against something warm. She could smell Dwayne, his aftershave, the detergent he used on his bedsheets. The whirl of a ceiling fan and the quiet sound of crickets outside.

  And taste, well, she wasn’t going to there just yet.

  Taking a chance, she cracked one eye to see that yes, she was indeed in Dwayne’s bedroom. But how had she gotten there? Last thing she remembered was driving down the road, changing stations, and suddenly feeling like her head was a little fuzzy, like her body was being taken over. And now here she was.

  “Hey. You’re awake.” The mattress dipped and Dwayne slipped into her line of vision, blocking out the light from the lamp. “How you feeling?”

  She opened her mouth to answer, but she croaked like a frog instead. Attractive. When she started to try again, he shook his head and touched a finger to her lips. “I’ll get a bottle of water. Just sit tight.”

  It even hurt when the bed jostled as he jumped up. No, she wasn’t going anywhere. With slow, pained motions, she gripped the covers and drew them over her head.

  No more. No more.

  But all too soon, he returned and helped her shift to sitting up, despite her croaky protests.

  “You need some water. Soothe that throat of yours, and rehydrate. They always say getting sick depletes the body of water.”

  After another few sips, she felt the cotton clear from her mouth and was ready to try talking. “How did I get in here?”

  “You don’t remember?” She shook her head. “You walked in the front door and barely said a word before you headed right to the bathroom to get sick.”

  Yup. It was all coming back to her. And she almost preferred the memory loss to the knowledge that she’d vomited in front of her boyfriend. How sweet.

  “You were a little too tired to get up, so I brought you in here.”

  “That’s nice.” Feeling her head swim a little, she leaned back, then realized she shouldn’t. “Help me up.”

  Dwayne eyed her skeptically. “You sure you should move?”

  “Seriously. Now.” She spoke through clenched teeth, feeling the telltale tightening in her jaw.

  He gave her a hand and she maneuvered as cautiously as possible out of his big bed and shuffled to the bathroom. Dwayne hot on her heels, she managed to gently close the door in his face before he could follow her all the way in.

  “Veronica, come on. Let me help.”

  “Go away.” She hunched, knowing he was about to hear her get sick and there was nothing she could do about it. Humiliating didn’t begin to describe it.

  “But I—”

  “I’m begging you. Go to the living room. Turn on the TV. Turn up the music. Something. Whatever.”

  She waited, and a few moments later heard what sounded like a football game on TV, before she couldn’t hold back any longer and dropped her dignity to relieve her stomach.

  Twenty minutes later, she all but crawled from the bathroom to the kitchen for another bottle of water. She’d rinsed her mouth out, swished with mouthwash, but she still felt more than a little gross.

  Dwayne appeared at her side, as if by magic. “Let me help. Go sit down.”

  “I just want a bottle of water.” She grasped the fridge handle and tugged, but nothing happened.


  “Let me.”

  “I can do it myself.” Another tug, and the thing didn’t budge. “What did you do—have this reinforced with steel since yesterday?”

  “Yup, you’re on to me. Now go sit on the couch.”

  Giving up the good fight, she walked to the couch and gingerly sat. A minute later Dwayne came in with a bottle of water and some antacids.

  “I don’t have anything for upset stomachs, but this might help. I could go run out and grab some of that liquid stuff, the pink junk. It’s supposed to be good for this.” He ran a hand over his hair, looking frustrated that he couldn’t offer more, which was silly since he already gave her way more than she needed.

  “These will be fine. Thanks.” After she chewed the chalklike tablets and washed them down with blessedly cool water, he sat next to her and patted his thigh.

  “Rest your head.”

  It was too tempting an offer to refuse, so she did. And sighed with lazy contentment when his fingers started playing with her hair. The sweet pressure on her scalp lulled her, and she dozed on and off in front of the TV, which he’d turned down low now that it wasn’t masking anything. At one point, while she listened to him muttering whispered curses at the referees, she wondered how she’d even begun to be embarrassed about feeling ill around Dwayne. He was the ultimate protector. One sick woman wasn’t going to throw him off his stride, as seen by how easily he comforted her.

  When she knew the next wave of nausea passed, she wanted the bed again. But he didn’t let her struggle, no. One word from her and he swept her up in his arms to carry her back to bed, where he tucked her in so carefully tears stung the backs of her eyes. Then, gracefully for a man of his size, he climbed in beside her and gave her a chance to settle in his nook, her head on his shoulder.

  Just before she drifted off, she made sure to thank him again for looking out for her.

  He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I always want to take care of you.”

  That sweet confession eased her into sleep.

  ***

  Veronica waved a hand as Madison closed the front door. “I’m over here.”

  Rounding the couch, Madison stuck her hands on her hips and looked down at her sprawled across the couch. “This looks like a productive day.”

  Staring up with one eye, Veronica was half-tempted to imitate one of the rude gestures Madison used and flip her off. But she wasn’t that far gone. So she just pushed up and half-lounged across the cushion. “I still feel awful. Why are you so chipper?”

  Madison dropped her hands and sat on the floor by the coffee table. “It was your burrito. Skye and I just had a few bites. You’re the one who insisted that taking on the challenge of a burrito as big as your head must be a good idea.”

  “Bad idea,” Veronica moaned as she flopped back down and covered her face. “Bad, bad idea.”

  “And now you pay the price. Skye’s not great, but she mostly has a headache. Likely dehydrated, and that’ll fix itself over the next few days. But you, well…” With regret in her voice, Madison added, “You’ll probably recoup soon. I’m sure.”

  “Uh-huh.” No effort for sarcasm, she dropped her hands. “I had to call in sick. I’ve never called in sick before.” And she couldn’t afford to do it again.

  “Good thing, since you serve food all day. Frankly, I wouldn’t want someone who looks as sick as you do passing me a bowl of pasta.” And when Veronica stuck her tongue out, she added more gently, “The smell of all that rich food wouldn’t have made you feel much better either. So it’s best you took the day off. Food poisoning isn’t a huge deal. You’ll be back to normal in no time.”

  Scooting closer, Madison did what Veronica mentally thought of as the nurse thing and scooped her hair back to feel her forehead with one hand, checking her pulse with the other. The move was so practiced, so efficient, if she hadn’t been overly sensitive already, she might not have even noticed.

  “Have you been drinking lots of water?”

  She shook her head, then regretted it. “I try, but it doesn’t always hit my stomach well. Dwayne’s bringing me some sports drinks. Said the electrolytes will help my body recover faster. And something about how it might stay down better than water.”

  “Good old simple country boy’s got the right idea.”

  “He’s not a simple country boy,” she snapped, the words sounding too sharp even to her own ears.

  Madison didn’t miss the tone, either. Her lips tilted in an amused look. “Defensive of our man Dwayne, aren’t we?”

  She shifted and twisted until her back was facing her friend and spoke into the couch cushions. “I just don’t like people calling him that. He’s so smart.” Way smarter than me.

  Madison rubbed a hand over Veronica’s back, like a mother soothing a child. “Yes, he is. He’s a good guy, one of the few men I’d say I loved. He’s another brother to me. And I like the look of you two together.”

  With a last scratch on her back, she stood and shook out her scrub pants that had bunched. “If you’re good here, I’m gonna take a hot shower and then crawl in bed. I didn’t get hit nearly as hard as you did, but I’m still wiped out.” She headed down the hall, calling, “Drink some more water!” before shutting the bathroom door behind her.

  ***

  Veronica knocked on Skye’s office door and poked her head in. “Hey, I’m here today.”

  Skye rolled back in her chair and crossed her hands over her middle. “Are you sure you’re up for a full shift?”

  She stepped fully into the office and shut the door behind her. “Yup. No problems. A little tired still, but Madison and Dwayne are pushing liquids at me every time I turn around so I think I avoided a dehydration headache.”

  Skye grimaced. “Lucky you. I felt awful the next day, even though my stomach had settled.”

  “Sorry about that. I mean, it was my burrito and all.”

  Her cousin grinned. “You can’t order a burrito as big as your head and—”

  “And expect to walk away unscathed. Yeah, yeah. Madison gave me the schpeal already.” When Skye gave her a funny look, she held up her hands. “What?”

  “Your attitude. It’s so… sassy. I like it.” With a grin she stood up and shooed her toward the door. “Now, off to work, sassy pants.”

  Sassy pants. Hmm. She kind of liked that. With a grin she headed to the server alley and clocked in with her time card. Sitting down to roll silverware, she avoided contact when Stephanie walked in. But there was no hope when she sat down and grabbed another stack of silverware to help her roll. Much as she’d love to ignore the woman, it wasn’t in her DNA.

  “Thanks for the help,” she said as quickly as possible. There. Duty done. No need for any more conversation after—

  “So how are things with your lover boy?”

  So much for no conversation. She tried to conjure up some sass, but it wasn’t coming. So she sighed and set her roll down, picking up the fixings for another. “Dwayne is just fine, thank you.”

  Steph bumped shoulders. “No, I mean between the two of you. It’s been, what, couple of months now you’ve been dating? And you’re still together? Definitely beat the odds.”

  “What odds?” she asked, a little louder than necessary. She flushed immediately when people around them stopped working and stared. “Sorry,” she whispered and looked back to Steph. If she had it in her to claw the satisfied grin off her face, she would have.

  Wow, she was developing a little bit of a mean streak. Sass was one thing. Time to tone down the attitude.

  She polished the set of silverware in front of her, and asked again, with cool calm, “What odds?”

  “Uh-huh. Let’s just say that it’s a miracle you two are still together.”

  Walk away now. Walk away now.

  “Why is that?”

  That’s not walking away.


  The smile turned just a little hard, a little smug as she placed another sloppily-done roll in the bin. “Men like that—the ones who are all walking sex and cool confidence—they don’t go for little church mice like you. The ones who don’t have anything to give them beyond a sweet peck on the doorstep. They need someone to keep their attention.” She paused, an obvious, calculated move. “In the bedroom, I mean.”

  It was easier now to ignore her. The jealousy made it impossible to take her seriously. She would not fight fire with fire. Or, in this case, fight crude with crude.

  “Right. Thank you for enlightening me. I suppose should things ever start to crumble, I’ll know why.” Adopting her best serene expression, she picked up the bin of rolled silverware—knowing she’d have to redo all the ones she had done—and walked away before she could add another unwelcome comment.

  There. That wasn’t so hard. So what if one jealous server thinks they’re doomed? It doesn’t mean a thing.

  Men who get the milk for free never buy the cow. A man who wants sex will want nothing else.

  Oh, shut up, Mother.

  Slamming the container of silverware down, she covered her eyes with one hand. She was officially crazy. The food poisoning had seeped into her brain, and she was carrying on a mental conversation with herself. Even better, an argument. As if one side could win or lose.

  But then it occurred to her. She might not have been able to give her mother a solid set-down in person, but at least, in her mind, it was one more thing she could check off her list.

  Chapter 20

  “I think that one looks fun!” Skye pointed to another roller coaster, Tim and Madison responding enthusiastically.

  Dwayne looked to Veronica, but he knew it wouldn’t matter. She was along for the nice, calm rides, and to hold the bags while everyone went on the big ones. She’d made it clear up front she wasn’t about to step foot on any of the big monster rides. “You sure you don’t wanna try just one? Looks like a shorter ride than the others.”

  She shook her head and smiled. “Really, I’m fine. I’m having fun just walking around. And I get to stand in line with you guys for company until you get on, so it’s no loss for me.”