Hold On (Delos Series Book 5) (2 page)

Beau decided to corner him in the locker room when Matt returned to base. Beau was catnapping in the locker room when Culver waltzed in later that night.

“Hey, bro,” Beau mumbled, rousing himself.

“You still here?” Matt asked, surprised. He went to his locker and opened it up.

“Yeah, I wanted to talk to you about your extracurricular activities at the Hope Charity.” He stood up, stretched like a lazy cougar, and walked over to the other wall of lockers, where Matt stood. “You’re taking those two belly-dancing gals to that charity every day, right?”

Matt grinned and sat down on a bench, untying his combat boots. “Yeah. So what?”

Beau straddled the bench. “So, I’d like to meet Callie McKinley.”

Matt gave his friend an amused look. “She’ll turn you down, partner.”

“Is she married?”

“No. Dara says she’s single, and there’s no one special in her life right now.” He pulled off the boots, tossed them into his locker, and pulled out a set of Nikes. “You got that look in your eyes, Gardner. That never bodes well for me. And right now I’m connecting with Dara, and I don’t want you messing things up for me.”

Beau gave his friend a wry grin. “Naw, I wouldn’t do that to you, Matt. I got my sights set on Callie. You can have Dara. She’s a fine-lookin’ woman, but not my type.”

“Yeah,” Matt huffed, shaking his head. “She’s brainy as hell—and the biggest worrywart I’ve ever met.” And then he flashed Beau a grin. “But that hasn’t stopped me.”

“I want to drop by tomorrow at the orphanage to casually offer my security services. Might be a good way to combine a good deed with getting on Callie’s right side.”

“You’re truly a wily coyote, Gardner.”

“Where I come from, back in Black Mountain, West Virginia, we call that being ‘a wolf in sheep’s clothing.’ I just want to meet her and see if any sparks fly between us.”

Chuckling indulgently, Matt pulled on the sneakers. “Oh, you’ll get fireworks all right, Gardner. Callie isn’t stupid, and she doesn’t suffer fools any more than Dara does. She’ll see straight through you and shoot you down quicker than you can say ‘wolf’!”

“Well,” he drawled, “I gotta try.”

Shrugging, Matt stood and shut his locker. “Okay by me.” He grinned, patting his friend’s broad shoulder. “I can’t wait for you to drop by so I can enjoy watching you get shut out of the belly-dancer sweepstakes.”

*

Callie collided with
a tall, wiry Army man in a big hurry as she turned a corner in the building where the orphanage was housed. Gasping, she began to fall, but he reached out to straighten her, his large hand wrapping firmly around her upper arm.

She was assailed by a wave of first impressions. First, his eyes, intense and gray, like those of a hawk.
A hunter
, she later recalled thinking.

His face was oval, with high cheekbones, shaggy black hair, and a longish beard. She was acutely aware of his monitoring just how much strength he needed to set her upright.

“Oh,” she gasped, “I’m sorry,” and she felt his hand fall away. Her skin tingled and it was pleasant, reminding her that six months without any sex made her yearn to be stateside once more.

“My fault, ma’am.” He took off his green baseball cap. “I’m Sergeant Beau Gardner. You must be Callie McKinley?” He held his hand out toward her.

Callie didn’t know if she was more shocked by his manners or by his knowing her name. This wasn’t her first rodeo, and as she pushed her hands against her jeans she was sure this guy was black ops. She shook his hand.

“Oh,” Matt Culver said, entering the room with Dara, her sister. “Callie? Did you meet Beau?”

Callie frowned. She gave a measured look to the tall, well-muscled soldier, who stood casually, his M4 rifle slung over his shoulder, the barrel pointed down. “No. Do you know him, Matt?”

“Just a little,” he said, walking with Dara over to the coffee machine. “Beau is on my team.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Beau told her, drowning in her forest-green eyes. “I thought I might come over here and help Matt with security. Our team has the next week off, so it seemed like the right time to offer you some help.” He saw her fine, thin red brows flash downward.

“Did you see us belly dance a couple of nights ago, Sergeant?”

Ouch.
Beau kept his face relaxed, but he was definitely detecting that this redhead had already outed him. “Yes, ma’am, I did. You two ladies were the hit of the evening. But then, I’m sure you’ve already been told that.”

Callie jammed her hands on her hips, looking up into his face. “And the reason you’re really here, Sergeant?”

This woman was not only smart, but she had the prettiest bow-shaped lips he’d ever seen. Beau could almost taste them beneath his hungry mouth. But first, he had a hellion standing here, her eyes flashing. Beau was never good at lying, and if he wanted a woman, he went after her, fair and square. “I saw you dance, ma’am. I wanted to introduce myself to you, hoping that you might consider going out to have a pizza and beer with me later, after we return to Bagram.”

Callie glared at him. “Not even,” she said through gritted teeth. Huffing past him, she stalked over to the coffee machine and poured herself a cup. So why did she feel badly about catching him red-handed? Beau wasn’t bad-looking and he was Delta Force, the cream of the Army’s crop. And despite his patient, good-ol’-boy smile and that Southern drawl, he probably belonged to Mensa and had a sky-high IQ to boot.

At least he hadn’t lied to her. That was new.
Refreshing.
Lies fell off men’s lips faster than a bee could gather honey. They took it to an art form at Bagram.

“Look,” she said coolly, holding the cup between her hands, “we just had a market down the street get bombed yesterday. We could really use more security right now.” Her lips thinned. “But I’ve been around Kabul and Bagram for five years. I know your type. So while I’d love to have you and your rifle around, I really don’t want your attention. Are we clear on that?”

When his lips turned up into an amused grin, Callie felt her heart lurch in her chest. What was
that
all about?! Flustered, she didn’t even wait for him to respond, spinning around on her heel and hurrying down the hall. The children at the orphanage needed constant care and attention. And right now, they were receiving a midmorning snack in the kitchen.

Still, she couldn’t get that lazy, boyish smile of his out of her head. Damn him! This wasn’t the first time she’d been chased down by some soldier from the Army base. But it
was
the first time one of them showed up where she worked. That was different, and so, apparently, was he.

As Matt came and stood beside Beau, sipping his coffee, he murmured, “Told you so.”

Beau shrugged. “First battle may be lost, but not the war,” he said, and went over to help himself to the coffee.

Callie lost sight of both Matt and Beau. She knew Matt since he and her sister were serious about each other. He’d more than proven his intentions to support the orphanage and had been here when the Taliban had blown up some IEDs in the market a block away. Matt had swung into action, preventing the Taliban from shooting into the orphanage and possibly wounding the terrified children, or hitting one of them. Her sister, a pediatrician, had only been here for a week, and the orphanage had become Grand Central Terminal for little ones and pregnant mothers needing her medical help.

Now Callie was dead on her feet at the end of every day—and her feet hurt plenty. Noon came and went. They had fifty hungry children to feed, from a few months old to age fourteen. Every day, Callie and her four Afghan widows, plus the director, Maggie, had their hands full.

At one point, Callie saw Beau Gardner walking around, peering intently into some of the rooms. Their eyes met and Callie growled a low warning in her throat, whirling away. She wanted nothing to do with a man right now, and she hated being chased. This guy was determined to bother her, and she sensed he wasn’t about to quit any time soon.

Midafternoon, one of her little charges, a young girl of ten, had wandered down the hall, holding her new shoes as she walked barefoot on the cold floor. There was no heating in the orphanage because it cost too much to keep it warm. Charities didn’t usually have that kind of money, anyway.

Callie hurried down the hall after her as she disappeared into what was known as “the big room” out in front, but when she turned the corner, she came to an abrupt halt, totally unprepared for the sight that awaited her. There was Beau Gardner, his weapon on his back, leaning down and smiling as he spoke in Pashto to the little girl. She was shy, her eyes downcast, her finger in her mouth, but she was allowing Beau to gently coax first one shoe on to her bare foot, and then the other one.

Callie’s heart swelled as she observed how gentle this man was, his large hands helping the child stand while urging her second shoe onto her foot.

The little girl smiled shyly as he lowered her foot and released her thin little arm. Callie couldn’t catch what Beau said, but whatever it was, the child reached out and tentatively touched his beard. The look in her eyes made Callie feel a rush of heat into her lower body. Beau was a man, and a complete stranger to this child. And yet he had such charm, and that easygoing smile of his . . . She saw him kneel so he could give the child his full attention.

Beau slowly lifted his hand, gently grazing her long, black hair, moving a few uncombed strands across her shoulder. And when he smiled, Callie groaned inwardly. The man was a damned magician! If he could charm that little girl, who was very, very shy, and especially afraid of any man, then Beau was someone to be very wary of. And yet Callie found herself wanting him to smile at her like that. It was an intimate, warm smile. She could literally feel that sunlight energy around him, and she saw the little girl responding to it. So was she!

Uh-oh
, Callie thought. This guy was trouble—big trouble! Turning, Callie quickly left, hoping he hadn’t been aware of her presence. That was all she needed now, an attractive soldier who might tempt her to let her guard down. These guys were nothing but heartache on two feet. She’d learned her lesson years ago and sworn to never, ever get entangled with another military man as long as she lived.

But Beau Gardner interested her, damn it! Gritting her teeth, Callie headed to the kitchen to help feed the children. “Soldiers” started with an “s,” she reminded herself. And “s” also stood for “stupid,” if she thought for a blinding instant that Beau Gardner was going to be different from the rest of the male pack. She was sick and tired of men seeing her as a sex object and not a human being, especially after she and her sister had performed their belly dances before the entire facility.

Boy, had that been a miscalculation for someone who wanted to stay out of the spotlight!

*

Beau and Matt
had just walked around outside the orphanage, and now they moved into the big room. During their conversation, Beau learned that yesterday, during the bombing of the market, two truckloads of Taliban had raced down the street outside the wrought-iron fence, spraying bullets everywhere until Matt had shot the driver of each truck. A day after the bombing he was allowing the children to have their midafternoon nap out in their normal slumber area. The four Afghan widows and Callie were getting all the children to lie down on their soft mats, covering each with a blanket because in late November, it was damned cold.

Beau watched Callie speak softly to each child, give him or her a smile, snuggle them into their blankets, and make sure that their small pillows were nestled beneath their heads. Callie was maternal, no question, and Beau tried to tear his gaze from her and keep moving down the hall, checking the back doors as well as the windows. He took his security duty as seriously as Matt did. When he’d finished his rounds, he found himself in the office again and set the M4 rifle aside to pour himself a cup of coffee.

He had his back to the door when he heard a sudden movement and twisted around to look over his shoulder.

“Oh,” Callie said sharply, “you’re here.”

He grinned. “I guess I am. Come on in,” he drawled. “I don’t bite. Would you like a cup of coffee?”