The Lieutenants' Online Love

by Caro Carson

He slid down the wall, wishing he could start over. That was impossible, but if he could tell Chloe everything and ask for a second chance—but that would be fraternization. Lieutenant Thane Carter couldn’t open his heart to her.

  Drummer could. As long as Chloe never found out that Drummer was him, she would be safe from any fraternization charges. She would be completely innocent.

  He wouldn’t be, but it was a risk he needed to take. He needed to be Drummer for her, just for a little bit longer, so Ballerina wouldn’t be left so abruptly alone.

  At the same time, Thane Carter could start being a better friend to Chloe Michaels. He couldn’t court her. He couldn’t date her, but he could be her friend. Maybe, once she had that real-life friend she wanted so badly, she would say goodbye to Drummer on her own terms. She’d be free to find a new man to love.

  It wouldn’t be him. He could only be her friend.

  If I could have made everything turn out differently, I would have.

  Thane hit Send.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Christmas Eve at the brigade’s dining facility was a come one, come all feast for the soldiers who stayed in the Fort Hood area during the holidays. Soldiers with their spouses and children, their parents and a few sets of grandparents, would shortly begin making their way through the cafeteria-style line of food stations for an old-fashioned turkey dinner with all the trimmings.

  It was traditional for the officers to dress in the service uniform, the formal dark blue suit with rank and regalia displayed to precise standards. They showed up with medals on their chests and spit-shined shoes, and then were sent behind the food line like school cafeteria workers to serve the holiday meal to their troops.

  Thane had always enjoyed it. As an eighteen-year-old private, he’d gotten a kick out of having a full-bird colonel scoop mashed potatoes onto his plate. As a twenty-six-year-old officer, he got a kick out of watching his soldiers interact with their children. It was priceless to hear the toughest, most battle-hardened sergeants say things like It’s not polite to put your fingers in your sister’s nose at the table.

  Thane had already taken his holiday leave at Thanksgiving, weeks before the Nutcracker debacle. He’d driven to South Carolina, seen his folks, hit the old bars, and affirmed that the gulf between himself and the friends he’d left behind when he’d joined the army was still there.

  Christmas would be spent here. Thane looked for the mess hall sergeant, ready for his assignment to scoop sweet potatoes or ladle gravy. The battalion commander would be carving the turkey. The CO of the 410th was already posted by the trays of green bean casserole, and standing over there, next to the pumpkin pies, was Michaels.

  Chloe.

  Thane devoured her for a hot second with his eyes. She wore the crossed pistols of the Military Police Corps on her lapels, the gold embroidery of her rank on her shoulder boards, silver wings on her chest for Airborne and Air Assault qualifications. Lieutenant Chloe Michaels in her dress blues should be on a recruitment poster. Young girls would aspire to be her. Parents would want their daughters to turn out like her. What man wouldn’t admire her?

  He did.

  The mess sergeant saved Thane from his own thoughts by handing him a pair of tongs and sending him over to a giant basket of rolls. Bread was the last station before the dessert table. He’d have to stare at Michaels’s back the whole time. Great.

  Actually, it was great. Michaels’s uniform was perfectly tailored to her trim waist. Her skirt was hemmed to fall precisely at the middle of her knee. Her legs weren’t nude like last Saturday, but smooth with the polish of panty hose. Her black pumps weren’t stilettos, but they were high-heeled. She wasn’t dressing like a sexy girlfriend, but a professional officer in a uniform that carried both authority and history.

  She looked sexy, anyway.

  Music came on the loudspeakers, families came through the doors.

  “Merry Christmas, sir.”

  “You, too, Sergeant First Class. You want the pretzel roll or the sourdough?”

  Passing out rolls didn’t stop him from thinking about Chloe. No wonder the girls in his hometown bars hadn’t held any appeal for him at Thanksgiving. He’d looked. He’d wanted someone to knock him out. Plenty of pretty women had talked to him. Even the most distant acquaintance greeted him with a hug and a kiss on the cheek, soft hands on his chest, his neck, his biceps. Everyone had smiled, but no one had been intriguing enough to invite out to dinner, no one had made him want to go somewhere quieter to get to know her. Thane had given up looking for more, and had tried to enjoy the flirting for what it was.

  It wasn’t much. He’d left the bar and gone to his parents’ house, so he could type on the phone with Ballerina instead. He’d wanted her to be that real-life friend more than ever, but she could’ve lived a thousand miles away, for all he’d known at Thanksgiving. Now, on Christmas Eve, he knew Ballerina was here.

  For two hours, he watched her give children extra whipped cream. For two hours, he felt his heart break. The most he could hope for with that amazing woman was the friend zone. Hell, he needed to dig himself out of a hole just to get to the friend zone.

  It was time to start digging.

  When the dinner was over and only the cooks and a few officers were left, Thane filled a plate with everything except a roll and took a seat across from Michaels.

  She nodded to acknowledge him, nothing like the girls at the bars back home. No smile. No words. No touch.

  He wanted that touch. He couldn’t have it, but the desire scrambled his brain. It was hard to speak casually to her. Ballerina, it’s me...

  It’s me, the guy who stood you up.

  “What are you doing tomorrow for Christmas, Chloe?”

  She gave him an odd look. “I’m the duty officer, Thane.”

  Ah, he’d slipped and called her Chloe, thus the odd look.

  “How did you get stuck with duty on Christmas Day?” Just two days ago, she’d left their office and gone home at 1100 hours after pulling duty. She shouldn’t be the MPDO for another eight nights.

  “I volunteered.”

  “For Christmas? You didn’t take leave on Thanksgiving, either, right?”

  “Right. I didn’t.” She was so formal in her formal uniform, but she was distant with him in combat boots, too. They ought to be closer, like teammates. They ought to at least be on a first-name basis.

  “Chloe.”

  “Thane.”

  He almost smiled as she imitated him. If she only knew how much he liked hearing her say his name...

  “Chloe, you don’t have to deprive yourself of a chance to see your family. There will be plenty of times in your career when you won’t have any choice about working a holiday. You’ll be working a flood or an ice storm or something else you can’t control, or you’ll be stationed halfway around the world in a hostile environment. When you’re stateside, it’s expected that you’ll take at least one of the winter holidays off. It’s not wimping out to go see your family.”

  She looked at him with a little wrinkle of concern between her eyebrows.

  “Unless you aren’t close to your family?” Thane asked. “Did I bring up a sore subject?”

  “I get along fine with my family.”

  Of course she did. He’d never heard Ballerina complain about family drama.

  “Then be sure to go home now and then. When you decide to go, let me know.” Thane decided to be the first to smile. “I’ll give you a ride to the airport.”

  Her eyes opened wide. Damn, was that something he’d talked about with Ballerina or with Chloe?

  Sergeant Gevahr, the squad leader who lived at Two Rivers, passed their table, wishing them both a happy holiday with his civilian girlfriend. Chloe smiled and gave him a little wave goodbye. She returned her attention to Thane, and her smile faded away to that formal nothingness.

  He needed to fix this relationship. It wasn’t acceptable to him anymore that her smile died when he was around.

  �
�Why did you volunteer to work Christmas?”

  “I designed that schedule. You and Salvatore and Phillips got stuck with extra shifts this month because of it. I wasn’t going to let you miss Christmas, too.”

  “It was an extra three shifts for each of us in the whole month of December. Big deal. Don’t sit there feeling guilty. Tomorrow should have fallen on one of the 410th guys, anyway. It was their month to pull duty before the new schedule, so they were already expecting it. You didn’t need to take one for them.”

  She tilted her head and studied him. “What is this about, Carter? Are you giving me advice? Are you mentoring me now?”

  “Believe it or not, I’m not always a jerk. Try me. What’s going on?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Something.” He pushed the salt and pepper toward her when she reached for it.

  “Nothing, and I want to keep it that way. I don’t want anyone to have cause for complaint about a schedule that was my idea.”

  “It might have been your idea, but it was the battalion commander’s decision. If anyone gripes about it, tell him to take it up with Colonel Stephens.”

  She only sighed and moved on to her dessert.

  “Has someone said something to you?”

  “Of course not.” She cut through her pumpkin pie with the side of her fork, making a sharp little clink of sound on the sturdy plate. “No one will gripe about the new schedule to my face. That’s too easy to deal with. I’m trying to make sure no one has a reason to sneer at me behind my back. How dare that new female officer come in here and change the way we’ve always done it?”

  Thane said nothing. It was too close to what he’d thought himself.

  “In every assignment, I walk in with two strikes against me, and I know it. I’m female and a West Pointer. I have to prove I’m... I don’t know. Normal, for starters. Then worthy of the rank on my shoulders.”

  Again, it was too close to true. Before she’d even made it to the unit, Lloyd had taken great glee in announcing Thane’s new office mate was going to be a West Pointer and a girl to boot. The comment had seemed harmless, even routine, but today, over a piece of pumpkin pie, Thane realized that he and everyone else had indeed been reserving judgment.

  She’d proved herself to everyone during their first ride-along—everyone in the 584th. When she’d been the duty officer this month, she’d probably had to prove herself all over again to the soldiers of the 410th. They must have been judging her every move far more than they had with him or Phillips or Salvatore. When she joined a unit, she had to prove herself upon arrival. When Thane joined a new unit, he was assumed to be competent unless he proved otherwise. Subtle difference, but it was a real difference.

  Chloe shrugged like they’d been talking about the weather as she ate her dessert. “Anyway, if I just take the Christmas shift myself, that removes one more thing someone might gripe about when I’m not around. So far, the dynamics in our battalion seem to be good, at least to my face. I’d like to keep it that way. Pulling duty is like a Christmas present from me, to me. I’ve given myself one less thing to worry about.” She finished her pie and tossed her napkin onto her tray. “Well, you have a nice Christmas—”

  “Chloe.”

  “Thane.”

  “The dynamics are going well behind your back, too, not just to your face. I’m in the boys’ club by default. I would’ve heard any negative comments about you. There aren’t any.” Thane pushed his plate out of the way and leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table. “If anyone did something idiotic, like blame you when they pulled a bad duty officer shift, I’d set them straight right then and there.”

  After a long moment, she stood. With tray in hand, she nodded at Thane.

  “Same.”

  Then she walked away.

  * * *

  How was your day?

  Chloe stretched out on her sofa with her laptop on her stomach. It was noon on the twenty-sixth of December, and she’d just gotten home after being the Christmas MPDO. Drummer had left this question for her on the app, probably expecting her to read it after a normal workday at five or six o’clock. She’d leave him an answer and then go to sleep.

  It was really slow and boring, since it was Christmas. I had a nice Christmas Eve dinner with my coworkers, though. It ended a little weirdly. Mr. Not-a-Friend made an appearance.

  And?

  Chloe lifted her hands from the keyboard in surprise at the blue And? She hadn’t expected Drummer to be online. His icon hadn’t been flashing when she’d logged on.

  And he was mostly ok.

  Mostly?

  Thane had been more than okay. He’d looked far too handsome in dress blues, which had made her as uncomfortable as seeing him in civilian clothes at the Nutcracker. She preferred Thane in baggy camouflage. In dress blues or in denim, or definitely in a bathing suit with a bare chest, Thane was too attractive to ignore.

  He never seemed to be attracted to her, but he had tried to share a meal and a conversation, which was weird in itself.

  Mostly. I had to educate him a little on boys vs. girls. I get so tired of boys vs. girls in my job. He told me how I should act toward the other guys, but it’s how he would act. It’s a different minefield for girls, but not a lot of men get that. The boys always assume they are the standard. There’s a certain arrogance in being sure your way will work.

  He’s arrogant? Could it be anything else? Is he older than you are? Is he more senior in your career field?

  Chloe froze with her hands over the keyboard—again. How did Drummer do that? Since the very beginning of their relationship, he’d always been so insightful despite the limited details they gave each other.

  Yes, he’s both. He likes to lord that over me. But lately, he’s actually been helpful on occasion. He’s not hard to work with.

  That’s good. You’re making progress with him, then.

  Progress? Chloe hadn’t been trying to do anything except avoid him.

  This is the same guy that we had to come up with options for. Controlled confrontation and all that. I guess that was the right way to handle him, since he’s being nicer now. That’s good, because my job requires a lot of teamwork.

  Teamwork. What do you do for a living again?

  * * *

  Across the parking lot, in Building Six, Thane waited for her reply.

  If she’d just break the boundaries they’d set and say she was in the military, then he could say he was in the military, too. He could direct the conversation naturally from there. They were both in the military, both in the Austin area. It would be obvious to conclude they were both at Fort Hood.

  They would agree to meet, and this time, he’d sit beside her, wherever it was. He would pretend that he was just as surprised as she was. Surprised, but not entirely shocked, because they would have already been expecting to meet a fellow army officer. Just not each other.

  But once she realized he’d been her online love for more than half a year, he’d sweep her off her feet in real life. He’d wrap his arms around her, something more sensual than the hug that every other friend gave her. He’d savor the warmth and weight of her body in his arms. He’d pull all the pins out of that ballerina bun and let her hair cascade to her shoulders. He’d bury his hands in it, he’d look into her brown eyes as he traced the curves and lines of her face with his fingertips, and he’d finally, finally taste her lips, just like he did in his dreams.

  The cursor blinked at him.

  He willed her to answer him, just a few words: I bet you’d never guess this, but I’m in the military. That was all she had to say. He would take it from there.

  His dreams were unrealistic—and against regulations—but meeting in real life would be a good start. The kiss would have to wait, but their fragile friendship would become solid. Someday, they would no longer serve in the same unit, and once that day came, he would woo her, court her, pursue her with all the emotion he currently had to keep tightly leashed. If she would ju
st give him the opening, just tell him she was in the military...

  That wasn’t very subtle, Drummer. We’ve done pretty well by keeping our careers a secret since last June. I don’t want to change that now.

  “Damn it.” He pushed to his feet and paced the width of his apartment. Chloe was so by the book. Such a little rule follower.

  Her next words cooled his frustration before it could pick up steam: If we’d met at the theater last week, we would know each other’s careers and a lot more right now. Maybe it would have been better, but then again, maybe not. Maybe we wouldn’t even be friends anymore. But without having met and without knowing the details of our lives, we are definitely still friends. Let’s not mess with what works.

  He had blown it, not her. Thane had walked away from her at a pool party. Drummer had stood her up at a theater. Why should she trust him in either of his personas again?

  Can we talk later, Drummer? I just got home from my job, and I really need to get some sleep. But I really need to have some fun after that. Will you be around?

  He never wanted to hurt her again. He couldn’t refuse to be there if she needed his company, so he kept up the charade. I’ll be around. Get some rest. If you haven’t got your health, you haven’t got anything.

  It took her less than a second. (The Princess Bride! You finally quoted the Princess Bride!) I’m only going to sleep for a couple of hours, because I don’t want to get my days and nights mixed up. Let’s do dinner and a movie. You pick the movie and tell me what channel, okay?

  There was only one possible answer: As you wish, Baby. As you wish.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Six weeks.

  It had been six weeks since Thane had found out who Ballerina really was. Six weeks since he’d started being a real-life friend to Chloe, so she wouldn’t need her virtual friend, and she’d let Drummer go.

  No luck.

  Drummer still enjoyed talking to Ballerina too much. He meant to dial back his engagement with her as Drummer and let Thane fill in the gap, but then they’d start typing back and forth about which movie was the most quotable—he said The Godfather, she said The Princess Bride, but they used Casablanca the most—and next thing he knew, he’d spent another entire evening online with his best friend.