One Star-Spangled Night (4 page)

He’d crossed that line once and it didn’t end well, but at least he hadn’t involved his kids. What the hell did he think he was doing inviting Lindsey into his life?

It’s not like he’d been disappointed when Steve said the Chaplain had turned down a dinner invitation. It would have been a much more awkward situation had she accepted.

She’d been tasked with evaluating his mental and maybe even his moral fitness to serve as Commanding Officer of the Enterprise. She’d asked little enough of him, an hour a day for ten days, but maybe it was time he proved himself worthy of that kind of faith.

By letting her know the man, not just the uniform.

“I was going to guess Iceman today,” she said, taking another stab at his call sign. “But now I’m thinking
Father Goose
.”

Doug cringed. “Just Goose in the movie.”

“I was referring to an old Cary Grant film.”

“Think outside the box office.”

She lifted a bare shoulder. “You could tell me.”

“How about a hint,” he suggested. “Heaven, Hell. Dark Angels. Ringing any bells, Chaplain?”

“Captain Doug “The Reaper” Reese.” She held up her phone so he could see the picture of him standing next to his F-18 Hornet with his Call Sign stenciled beneath the canopy of his jet. “I like your Facebook header. The headshot in your dress blues is a bit stuffy for a profile pic. I think you need a selfie, Captain.” She sidled up next to him and snapped a shot from arms length. “Now, just you.”

She stepped back and snapped a couple pictures.

Doug shook his head. There was no stopping her so he didn’t even try.

“Nice smile,” she said. “I’ll send them to you and you can decide which one you like best.”

CHAPTER FOUR

On the last day of their ten-day obligation, Lindsey had a misstep with a pebble and rolled her ankle ten minutes into their run. “I’m fine,” she insisted despite the twinge.

“You look fine,” he said, “but that’s beside the point. You’re limping.”

The Captain had stopped in his tracks so she was forced to turn back or leave him behind. “Barely.” She made an effort not to limp as she walked toward him.

“Let’s go put some ice on it anyway.”

“Fine.”

“I could carry you.” He bent and pointed over his shoulder. "Piggyback."

“You try and I’ll unfriend you.”

“Those Marines really toughened you up.”

“You don’t know the half of it.” Despite her tough talk she didn’t object when he took her hand and put it to his shoulder so he could slip an arm around her waist.

He didn’t lift her off the ground, but he did support her weight and ease them into a comfortable rhythm. As Lindsey leaned into the solid heat at her side, the twinge she felt was closer to her heart than her ankle.

The walk back to the shipyard was slow going, but she didn’t mind.

Once back at the pier he settled her on the nearest picnic bench and then went to ask their favorite hotdog vender for some ice. Returning with the ice and their usual order, he straddled the bench facing her.

The Captain slapped his inner thigh and she raised a pink sneaker to rest against it. The heat in her cheeks felt brighter than her sneakers after that close up glimpse of the fine hairs on his well-muscled thigh. His tan line faded beneath his shorts.

She glanced away before he caught her ogling the bulge just inches from her foot. It wasn’t like examining her ankle had aroused him. But his hand at the back of her lower calf was having quite the affect on her.

“No swelling.” He turned her foot gently. “Don’t think you’ve broken anything. Or even sprained it. But it wouldn’t hurt to have the ship’s doctor take a look—”

He placed the bread bag full of ice on her ankle and she jumped at the cold, wet impact. “It’s just a twist.” She used adjusting the ice as an excuse to draw her knee to her chin and away from him.

Not because she didn’t want him to touch her, but because she did.

She’d been having far too many late night dreams starring the Captain’s hot, sweat soaked body—and it wasn’t because he was running through them. Lindsey twisted the cap off the cold sparkling water and took a deep, deep swallow.

She spotted Commander Elliot at the hotdog cart and tossed the senior Chaplain an awkward wave. It’s not that she was doing anything wrong, but he seemed to be glaring at her. Probably just the sun in his eyes.

Captain Reese glanced over and the two men exchanged curt nods.

“You know Chaplain Elliot?”

The Captain’s smile faded. “He was stationed aboard the Big E when I was a Lieutenant with a fighter squadron attached to the ship.” He glanced away from the senior Chaplain and back to her. “Karen and I saw him for martial counseling.”

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.”

Lindsey used martial counseling to segue into premarital counseling, telling him how nervous and excited she was to be performing her first wedding. He said all the right things in all the right places, but she sensed he wasn’t really listening. She only kept talking because she was very aware that his mood had changed at the sight of Chaplain Elliot. And she kept hoping that maybe he would open up about his marriage.

She knew little enough from Facebook. Except that he and his ex were on friendly terms and did a good job of not dragging their kids into whatever issues they had between them.

This was their last lunch date. After today, she’d probably never see the Captain again. Unless, of course, they happened to bump into one another on base. A naval shipyard was a big place and she didn’t exactly work on his pier.

What excuse would she give? That she craved a mustard dog?

Ignoring half dozen other venders along the way?

He glanced at his watch. Despite the early end to their jog it was now several minutes past their usual lunch hour. Lindsey reached into the pocket of her sport skirt and pulled out a folded piece of paper. “This is a copy of the evaluation I’ll be forwarding to Admiral Dunning.”

He accepted the folded paper without reading it. “To be honest I didn’t expect to enjoy our time together as much as I did.”

“There’s a lot to be said for
Top Gun
trivia therapy.” They both stood. No hug or handshake. Their professional walls were firmly in place. “I really should go—”

“Yeah.” He gathered their trash and walked her as far as the bin.

She’d taken no more than a dozen steps away from the pier when she heard her name.

“Lindsey,” he called out and she turned. “Same time tomorrow? If your ankle’s up to it?”

There was a spring in her step as she entered the chapel annex in her sport skirt and sneakers. Lindsey couldn’t stop smiling if she wanted to.

“There you are,” Commander Elliot said as Brenda shot Lindsey a warning look behind the priest’s back. “I saw you with Doug Reese down by the pier. I know it is none of my business, Lindsey, but take my advice. Don’t get involved with that man.”

“We’re just running buddies.” Although, it wasn’t the thought of exercise that made her heart skip a beat when he’d asked her to join him again tomorrow.

“You should be running in the opposite direction. The man’s marriage failed for good reason.” Father Elliot left her with that to ponder for the rest of the day. There were plenty of people with failed marriages. That didn’t make the Captain a bad person.

Obviously, Father Elliot was privy to certain details that Lindsey knew nothing about, but she knew better than to speculate. As the day wore on, her smile thinned and then disappeared all together when she received her new orders.

Try as she might, she couldn’t get it back.

Doug sat at the desk in his stateroom under the soft glow of a computer monitor. Lindsey had canceled what would have been their eleventh run. She’d used her ankle as an excuse. He’d needed to get in some cross training at the gym anyway.

So he didn’t push.

Then the heavens had opened up and given her a week of excuses. Now here it was almost a week later.

“More coffee, sir?” his steward asked.

Doug checked his watch, half past ten. “That’ll be all for tonight.” He really should lay off the caffeine at night. At least while in port.

“Yes, sir.” The steward disappeared through the Captain’s Mess and Galley.

Doug rubbed the bridge of his nose. He’d wanted to surprise Lindsey today with an indoor picnic prepared by his chef. But when he’d called to suggest he stop by her office around lunch, her response made him feel like more than a few miles and a little bad weather was keeping them apart.

Her turning down his invitation for a game of racket ball next week confirmed his gut feeling.

He was afraid to examine his motives for the cancelled picnic too closely.

An older man out to impress a younger women with the fact that he had his own chef. Along with a diver, a limo, a fighter jet, a boat and a ship—take that all you billionaire businessmen.
I’m CEO of an aircraft carrier and my job is to save the world. I have everything I need and better perks.

Except he didn’t have command of the
Enterprise
yet.

Or
everything
he wanted.

And he wasn’t likely to find it on match.com with a profile that said he was interested in woman between the ages of 35-50.

What a cliché he’d turned out to be. But the truth was he’d been picturing Lindsey naked from almost the moment they’d met. Right now he’d settle for a cold shower and hearing her laughter again.

A ship in dry dock could be a lonely place at night with a skeleton crew on watch. The civilian contractors were gone for the day. Married officers and enlisted alike were home with their families. Hell, even the singletons had places they’d rather be and only spent the night onboard if they had nowhere else to go.

Admiral Dunning knocked on the open hatch. “Doug, am I interrupting?”

“Jim. No, come on in.” Doug pushed to his feet until the Admiral was seated in the leather chair across from him. “What brings you here this late at night?”

Although the Admiral had his own stateroom onboard, he had other business to attend to while in port and a home to return to at night. “Just wanted to stop by and congratulate you in person. We made our case to the board and it’s official. The
Enterprise
is yours.”

Doug’s chest swelled. “Thank you. Thank you, sir.”

The Admiral waved away his gratitude. “You did all the heavy lifting. My recommendation was a given.”

Doug had appeared before the selection board no less than four times in the past month. Being poked and prodded. And quizzed about every aspect of shipboard operations.

“I don’t think it hurt that you had an angel in your pocket. Did you read this?” The Admiral pulled a folded piece of paper from his pocket.

The first smile in a week crossed Doug’s face. “Yeah.”

“Who knew that bit about the director writing a personal check to turn the ship into the sunset? I had to go look it up in the archives. Hope you don’t mind that I shared her insights with the board. They needed to see that human side of you. The Chaplain’s recommendation added the right personal touch.”

“You’re saying I owe her my command.”

“The command is all on you and your hard work, Doug. I’m saying you might owe the Lieutenant a nice steak dinner and it never hurts for a commander to have a good working relationship with his chaplains. Especially one who’s up for a citation that has the Pentagon buzzing.”

Doug followed the Admiral to his feet. “Which award?”

He didn’t want to sound like he’d just crawled out of a cave, but he didn’t get to DC as often as the Admiral and hadn’t heard any buzz while he was there.

“The Triple Cross.” The Navy’s second highest honor for bravery. “You hear about chaplains picking up weapons in battle. But how many of them are women? And how many have you ever known?”

Apparently, none.

CHAPTER FIVE

The most beautiful girl in the room stood alone at the edge of the dance floor with her second glass of champagne in hand. As far as Doug was concerned all the single men in the room—and there were plenty of them, half a fighter wing and half the ship’s officers—were idiots for not asking her to dance.

She wore a dress white uniform, which earlier today had been covered by a calf length white robe that made her look like an angel as she united the bride and groom in holy matrimony. While the general male population in the room was looking at those crosses on her shoulder boards, they weren’t seeing the woman beneath.

Did anyone here know this was her first wedding?

Or how much it meant to her?

He knew.

At one time he thought he’d have the privilege of knowing every inch of her, but he’d let her slip through his grasp and that made him the biggest idiot of all.

Doug threw back his second scotch of the evening and went to rescue her from the maiden aunt who’d taken up residence at her elbow. Lindsey had been avoiding him for a month now and it was time he stopped being a coward or a martyr, or whatever the hell he was trying to be, and confronted her about it.

Though he suspected she’d come to her senses and realized she was better off not letting a man like him—and a much older man at that—into her heart. He wanted to hear it from her. And she owed him the courtesy of a face to face.

“Chaplain.”

She looked up from her conversation with the elderly matron. Relief followed by apprehension shown in her eyes. “Captain Reese.”

He wanted to reassure her he was here to rescue her and not make her feel uncomfortable, but he had a feeling this night would become uncomfortable for them both before it was over.

“Care to dance?” Doug extended his hand.

“Excuse me,” she murmured to their elderly audience. She put her hand in his and he immediately wrapped her in his arms. “I need to put my glass down.”

Without missing a beat, he led them to the nearest table and set it down for her. He used the opportunity to pull her even closer and she moved with him to the familiar strains of “Heaven in Your Eyes.” He wondered if she missed their game of
Top Gun
trivia half as much as he did.

Mostly he missed the chance to get to know her better.

Berlin followed Loverboy. “Take my Breath Away.”

“Nice ceremony,” he said to break the ice.

“Thank you.” Her smile seemed strained and he could feel tension radiating from her spine. His hand in the small of her back itched to explore the curves both above and below her waist.

“I’m not very good at small talk,” he said, wishing he could say something to put them both at ease. If there was any doubt in his mind that she’d been avoiding him for the better part of a month, well, the answer was right there in the way she held herself apart from him.

“We don’t have to talk.” She gazed into his eyes. Talk about mixed signals. When she looked at him like that with those big brown eyes, it was all he could do not to kiss her right there on the dance floor. “I appreciate the rescue.”

“More of an ambush,” he admitted.

She tilted her head.

“You’ve been avoiding me, Chaplain.”

She dropped her gaze to his shoulder. “I assumed you were busy.” Her lashes fluttered against her cheek before she looked up at him again. “I understand congratulations are in order.”

“I sent you an invitation.”

“I wouldn’t miss your Change of Command ceremony for the world.” She said it with enough conviction he had a sudden image of pulling her up on the dais with him.

The set ended. Couples separated and started clapping.

Someone shouted. “Where My Heart Will Take Me.”

The clapping and cheering increased while the DJ scrambled to fill the request.

Doug nodded toward the patio doors. “Step outside with me?”

He didn’t give Lindsey a chance to escape. He grabbed her hand and pulled her out onto the patio with him.

“What’s going on in there?”

He positioned himself along the garden wall. “How’s your “Star Trek” trivia? The theme from the TV series “Enterprise” has been a wedding staple for the ship’s company since 2004.”

Her ears perked to the first strains of the song. “I know that song. I always thought it was called Faith of the Heart. Rod Stewart?”

“Russell Watson did the remake for the series.” By the time Watson hit the chorus the entire room had joined in at the top of their lungs. The sweet refrain drifted to the background while Lindsey sang along.

“I like it. You don’t?”

“I just wanted to get you alone,” he admitted.

She joined him at the wall but kept her distance. “Maybe that’s not such a good idea.” She turned her attention to the sky. “Do you think we’ll be able to see fireworks from here.”

He’d forgotten it was the 4th of July.

“Probably not. But he wasn’t going to let her change the subject. “Look. I’m sure Elliot couldn’t wait to tell you I committed one of the top ten Thou Shall Not sins while I was married. It’s even a sin in my book—General Article 134 of the UCMJ—

adultery—”

“Actually, he didn’t and he wouldn’t. He did try to warn me away because he cares about me in a Fatherly way.”

“Connor’s not my biological son. That’s not an excuse, by the way, just a statement of fact. Karen and I got married for all the wrong reasons.  But I have no excuse for cheating on her.”

“There’s always more to that story.”

“You’re being too easy on me.” He held her steady gaze. “When I joined the Navy it was with my best friend--we’d gone to see
Top Gun
together. His call sign was Bouncer. Only one day he didn’t bounce, he crashed and burned. I got drunk and fell into bed with his fiancée. When Karen found out she was pregnant I guess we both just assumed the baby was mine.”

He took a deep breath before continuing.

“Connor
–
named after his father
–
may not be my biological son, but I love him like one. Karen and I realized our mistake within the first two years. But it took another five and an affair for either of us to admit it. Ginny was a pilot. It’s not pretty when you’re caught cheating with someone in your unit and you’re both married.”

“I don’t imagine it is,” she said.

“Karen and I entered into counseling with Father Elliot. At that point I don’t know if we were trying to save our marriage as much as end it, but we got pregnant and Kimmy was born and she couldn’t save our marriage either. I think Karen and I were both glad I had a sea tour coming up. I packed my seabag and never returned home, figuratively. Because of course I see the kids whenever I can. But I’ve been divorced now longer than I was married. And I’m starting to think I don’t like being alone. But I’m not that same miserable man—”

“I need to tell you something.”

Like you’re barking up the wrong tree, buddy. “I’m listening.”

“I’ve received orders to the Enterprise.”

Doug felt the sucker punch in his gut. That made him her Commanding Officer. That made her off limits in a way she hadn’t been seconds ago when he’d been waxing poetic about his divorce.

“When?” he asked.

“When the chapel closes and the ship gets underway again. It was foolish of me, but I’m not going to embarrass you. Or do anything to jeopardize your career.”

“Did you put in for a transfer to the Enterprise?”

She kept her face turned away from him. “I was thinking with my heart and not my head. I just wanted to be near you. Not that I thought anything would come of it.”

Was she saying she could fall in love him if given half a chance?

People were starting to wander back to the patio again. “I need you to come with me, Lieutenant.” He deliberately used her rank because he didn’t want to waste time arguing about it. He sent a quick text to his driver and grabbed their covers and her handbag from the coat check on the way out.

His town car was waiting for them out front. He waved the driver back in the car and opened the back door for her himself. “Welcome to my world, Lieutenant,” he said as he slid into the backseat beside her.

The Captain didn’t say a word the entire ride to the ship. She couldn’t blame him for being angry. She’d been impetuous in requesting the
Enterprise
. Like he’d risk his career just to be with her. He wasn’t the same man who’d cheated on his wife. She wasn’t falling in love with that man, but the man born of those experiences.

An honorable man.

It wasn’t up to her to forgive him. He had to forgive himself.

After getting out of the town car, she stood at the bottom of the gangway just beginning to realize what a relationship with her would cost him.

Lindsey grabbed his sleeve. “I’ve never boarded a ship before.” If she’d learned the procedure she’d forgotten it long ago. “I salute the Ensign—”

“The sun’s setting. They’ve already taken down the flag.”

“But I salute the Officer of the Deck, even though he might be enlisted, and then I ask permission to come aboard."

“You’re with the Captain,” he said, patiently. “I’m your permission. The OOD is going to salute me and I’m going to return his salute. That’s all there is to it.” He took a step forward and stopped. “Though you do have to let go of my sleeve and walk a few paces behind me.”

He teased her with a smile.

But he wasn’t kidding about walking behind him.

He stepped onto the gangplank and she followed.

“Ding-Ding. Ding-Ding.
Enterprise
arriving,” the watch said over the ship’s loudspeaker. The Captain’s foot hit the quarterdeck for one final stinger. “Ding.”

The Petty Officer of the Watch offered a sharp salute. “Captain.”

Captain Reese returned the salute and then pulled Lindsey up beside him. “Chaplain Alexander will be joining me this evening.”

“Yes, sir,” the watch said a bit too enthusiastically.

The Captain raised a warning brow and the young sailor sobered.

“Why did the watch announce
Enterprise
arriving?”

“Because I’m her captain and she’s my ship. A union as sacred as the one you performed today.”

He placed a hand in the small of her back and guided her toward the elevators. “I didn’t even know a carrier had elevators.”

“For officers,” he said. “RHIP.”

Rank Has Its Privileges.

They rode the elevator up to the bridge. A lone watch stander snapped to attention. “As you were,” the Captain said and the young man stood at ease. “This,” Doug swiveled the chair around to face her, “is the best seat in the house.”

She brushed a hand across the soft tan leather. She wasn’t quite sure if he was inviting her to sit so she didn’t dare.

“Normally, there’s a helmsman to steer, a lee helmsman to communicate with the engine room and the quartermaster for navigation. To keep me company. And when I’m not here there’s an Officer of the Deck standing in. Below me is the Admiral’s bridge. Above me is the flying bridge. I’ll take you there after we stop by my in-port stateroom on the operations level. This is my at sea cabin.” He opened a hatch right off the bridge. It was just a rack and a drop down shelf that made up a desk with a stool on wheels.

“Somehow I imaged it bigger.”

“Not much time for sleep at sea.”

She’d thought he’d brought her here to scold her in private. He was like a little boy showing off a new toy. Maybe he was just trying to put her at ease by giving her this glimpse into his daily life.

His in-port stateroom was more like a small suite with a sitting room, a bedroom and a private bathroom. He rang for his steward. The seaman appeared at once through a paneled door and she caught a glimpse of a small kitchen.

“You have your own kitchen? And staff?”

The Captain winked at her. “Phil, we skipped out early on the wedding reception. Can you serve up cake and coffee in the sitting room?”

“I think we have some birthday cake around here somewhere.”

“Half an hour?”

“Yes, sir.”

Doug took Lindsey out onto the flying bridge next. The Captain’s bridge might have the best seat in the house, but vultures row offered the best view. Eight stories above the hard deck, the tower shot up from a twenty-foot base and the balcony extended well beyond that.

“This is all pretty impressive. But you didn’t bring me here to show off.”

“A little bit maybe.” He shrugged off the admission.

They stood near the Landing Signal Officer’s watch station. Empty without flight ops going on. He wanted to pull her into that cozy nest with him and talk launches and sunsets. But he didn’t bring her here because he was on some sort of power trip.

“Monday morning I’m going to make a phone call and you’ll be issued new orders. I can’t have you aboard my ship, Lindsey.”