Red, Hot & Blue 09 - A Prince Among Men (19 page)

Not one baddie had shown up, and that was all right with Ryan. He arrived back at base in the best of moods and had to restrain himself to keep from sprinting for the hut and Vicki. It didn’t matter he hadn’t slept in a day; he was wide awake at the thought of her.

When he was finally in the hut, he ran around the shelving, but she wasn’t there. All he found was his bunk, neatly made, and a note on his pillow.

The part of Ryan’s brain that liked to live in a happy place was hoping it was a quick note telling him she was in the shower or grabbing chow or something. But the other part of his brain, the one that saw the reality of things, had a bad feeling about the tiny piece of folded paper. With hands that weren’t quite steady, he unfolded it. He read the first words… Dear Ryan.

He sank to the mattress and closed his eyes. Two Dear John letters from two different women during one deployment. Ryan was just thinking that surely must to be a wartime record when Hawk entered the hut.

Ryan laughed, but it sounded bitter. “Well, Hawk. You can relax now. Vicki’s gone.”

“Yeah, so I’ve heard.” Hawk eyed him. “How do you feel about that?”

Like he’d taken a rifle butt to the chest rather than the head. Ryan kept that to himself and instead simply shrugged.

“You know, Pettit, I’m here if you want to talk.”

Ryan snorted. “What’s there to talk about?”

Hawk pulled the only chair in the room over to Ryan’s bunk and straddled it. “Back right after the prison break at Bagram, Emily refused to answer any of my emails. I had no idea why.” Hawk shook his head. “I’ve been shot, blown up and trapped beneath a Humvee and none of that was as hard as not knowing what was wrong with her.”

This revelation was news to Ryan. “What did you do?”

Hawk laughed. “I emailed every day I could, knowing she wouldn’t respond, not knowing if she was even reading them. Then remember when I had to fly home when my sister was sick?”

Ryan nodded.

“After I knew my sister was all right, I took a side trip to New York before flying back here, and I found Emily. It wasn’t easy, but I tracked her down.”

“What had been wrong? Why did she stop emailing you?”

Hawk waved the question off with one hand. “That doesn’t matter. What does matter is what I’m trying to tell you. If you want this girl in your life, don’t give up.”

“She wrote in the note that she can’t handle the risks I take.” Ryan held up the paper, feeling helpless.

Hawk shrugged. “We’re not gonna be here forever, Pettit. Mortars and RPGs are pretty rare back at the garrison in Germany.”

“Yeah, but chances are pretty damn good we’ll deploy again.”

Hawk nodded. “Yes, but this war can’t last forever.”

Ryan’s raised a brow, his mouth screwed up. Hawk smiled at his expression. “All right, you’re right. So we won’t count on that. But you can still request a change of MOS. Get into a training unit.”

“I guess I could do that.” But would it be enough to win back Vicki? Ryan sighed, realizing exactly how little he knew about the woman he’d fallen for. “I don’t even know where she lives.”

Hawk frowned. “Come on, Pettit. You can’t give up that easily. She’s a journalist, for God’s sake. Her name’s probably all over the Internet. Computer guy like you should be able to find out how to contact her somehow.”

Ryan’s misery finally lifted enough for his brain to begin to function again, and an idea struck. “I do know how I can find her.” He jumped up to grab for his laptop. Pausing, he looked back at his leader. “Thanks, Hawk.”

Bagram. Yet another stop in Vicki’s disappointing tour of Afghanistan’s highlights, but it had been where the men in black were flying before taking a flight back to the States, and she didn’t want to go back home, not just yet anyway.

How could she leave Afghanistan without at least one interview with a local woman for her article? To do that would be to leave as a complete and utter failure. Meanwhile, she had been there, up close and personal for one heck of a hot story and couldn’t write a word about it, not that she wanted to. Harry’s was not the story she wanted to tell.

But more than her story, being in Afghanistan made her feel like she wasn’t so far away from Ryan. How ridiculous was that? She’d made the decision to leave him and still she needed to know he was close. She was really messed up.

The chance of getting the interview now looked even slimmer than before. That was so depressing, Vicki couldn’t even face opening her laptop and working on the story. Besides, there were pictures of Ryan’s base on there. She had a feeling just seeing those might break her.

So there she sat, killing she didn’t know how much time, waiting for either a military flight back to Kandahar or anywhere besides here. Or if all else failed, a ride to Kabul Airport in hopes of catching what was sure to be an outrageously priced standby flight back to London.

The irony of it all was that though Ryan’s little mud hut came equipped with wifi, the base at Bagram did not. Since she was in Afghanistan instead of London, connecting to the web on her cell phone would cost a ton of money per minute, so she waited on a long line with the other people on base for a shot at one of the public computers equipped with Internet.

Finally, it was her turn. With a sigh, Vicki pulled up her account and started scrolling through emails, missing Ryan the whole time and pretending she didn’t.

Then she saw a new email from Pettit, Sgt. Ryan in her inbox and suddenly couldn’t breathe. She opened it as quickly as the signal would allow and found a web link with a short note.

I know this was important to you. Hope it helps. Ryan

Clicking on the link, Vicki was sent directly to a video. The picture was shaky, the sound a bit fuzzy, but she could see what was obviously an Afghani man dressed in white standing in front of a mud hut. She heard Ryan’s voice and her heart began to pound. He said to the man, “Can we talk to your wife?” The camouflage-clad interpreter who stood in front of the video camera with the local man repeated Ryan’s words in Pashto.

“He wants to know why,” the interpreter informed Ryan after the local man had spoken.

After a pause, Vicki heard Ryan, obviously the one holding the camera, say, “Tell him I want to show American women how to be a proper wife, like the Pashtun women are.”

Vicki couldn’t help but smile. Smart, Ryan. Very smart. The local seemed to like that idea and flung open the door of the hut to invite Ryan and the interpreter inside. Vicki leaned in closer to the computer’s screen to get every detail of the inside of the hut.

“Ask her what she’s cooking,” Ryan instructed. Goat was the answer. The woman’s husband got bored with his wife’s detailed instructions to the interpreter of how she was preparing the goat meat and left the hut, which was when Ryan really went to work, firing question after question at her.

As quickly as the interpreter could get an answer, Ryan was ready with another. “How old were you when you got married? How many children do you have? Can you read and write? Will your daughter be educated? For how many years will she attend school? How old do you think she will be when she marries? If your husband were to die, what would happen to you? Would you be allowed to live in this house alone? Can you own property as a woman alone without a husband?”

Vicki itched to take notes of every one of the woman’s answers, but she didn’t want to be distracted by writing and miss one moment of the tape. She’d have to watch it again anyway. Then there was that other distraction—Ryan. The memories his voice stirred, his thoughtfulness in doing this for her after she’d left him so suddenly, his thoroughness in asking the perfect questions.

All of which didn’t change anything. In spite of the fact she loved him, totally and completely, especially now after seeing what he’d done for her, she still could not live the kind of life she’d have to live to be with him. Even knowing he was out in the countryside, a camera in his hands rather than his gun, had her stomach in knots.

The video ended when the woman’s husband returned and Ryan had to accept his offer that he sit with them for a meal of goat and tea. The camera jostled and then went black. And then Vicki’s eyes went blurry with tears. She hit reply to his email and typed two words. Thank you. Vicki didn’t trust herself to write any more than that.

Wiping her eyes with the back of her hand, Vicki realized she needed a distraction or there was a good chance she’d be curled up in a ball right here in front of the computer sobbing at any moment.

Her hand went automatically to scroll to her favorite milblog and paused. Groundpounder reminded her so much of Ryan, she knew reading his posts was going to hurt like hell from now on. Apparently a glutton for punishment, Vicki hit the button anyway. She watched the newest post’s title appear as the page slowly loaded.

Changes in Latitudes, Changes in Attitudes.

There was a time, not too long ago, that I thought the military would be my life. That, much like old man Lou who pilots the chopper that delivers our mail, I wouldn’t leave until they kicked me out. But attitudes change, I guess. Don’t get me wrong, I love being a soldier, but I have found something I love more. Her name is Vicki, and we met, amazingly, right here in Afghanistan. This godforsaken base was quite the change in latitude for my adorable and determined American journalist.

Vicki had to stop reading because she was shaking so badly. Suddenly things began to fall into place. Groundpounder was Ryan. Ryan was Groundpounder.

Vicki tried to swallow, found she had no saliva to do so, and kept reading.

If this incredible woman would consent to be my woman, I’d gladly give all of this up—my deluxe mud hut, the surprise midnight attacks, even the luxurious shower trailer and pee-tubes. Hell, when I was little I always wanted to grow up to be a fireman. There may be fiery explosions in that occupation also, but most likely no one will be shooting at me during them.

So, Vicki, here it is. My heart laid right out here on my blog. I want you. I need you. I love you. More than my job. More than my life. The choice is now yours.

Ryan

Vicki couldn’t get the call made fast enough, tapping her foot as she listened to the ringing on the other end of the line, swelling with relief when she finally heard, “Mel Townsend.”

Her voice cracked and her breathing was shallow. “Mel. It’s Vicki Vanover. I have a question. I have to get from Bagram to a firebase in the Helmand Province. How do I do that?”

“Where exactly do you need to go, love?”

She gave him the name of the base and took out a notebook. Pen in hand, she waited.

“Easy peasy. Ask around for an old-time pilot named Lou. He makes regular runs with the mail from Bagram to the firebases in that region.”

“Lou makes mail calls from here to there?” She nearly cried with relief. Lou, the chopper pilot, would remember her from when Hawk brought her to base the first time. He’d give her a ride. Vicki couldn’t believe her luck.

“You know Lou?” Mel asked.

“Yeah, I’m familiar with him. Thanks, Mel. I owe you.”

Ryan walked through his duties in a daze during the few days after Vicki left. He waffled from simply hoping that Vicki had read his blog, to hoping what he’d written would make a difference, to fearing it wouldn’t.

She’d written in her goodbye note that it was the way he lived his life she couldn’t accept. But the dark part of Ryan’s brain feared that maybe it was just an excuse. Maybe when he’d been so into the moment and had slipped, telling her he loved her, it had frightened her away. Worse, perhaps she didn’t feel the same.

She’d written thank you in her email response to the video he’d taken for her. Nothing more. Hawk had been more than understanding by letting Ryan take two of his men and an interpreter into the country on zero notice so he could interview a woman for Vicki. Ryan didn’t know what else he could do besides that.

Ryan sighed, which he noticed he did a lot lately. He grabbed his shower stuff before making his way to the trailer. Absently, he noted that he heard Lou’s chopper heading into base. It was with a heavy heart that Ryan remembered the last delivery Lou had made. It had been Vicki.

Someone else could unload the mail today. He didn’t have the heart to do it. He undressed, turned on the water and buried his head in the hot stream of mountain well water.

“Ryan.”

Damn. He must be hallucinating from that blow to the head, because he could have sworn he heard Vicki’s voice while he was in the shower.

Ryan rubbed the soap over his shorn hair and face, trying to scrub away far more than dirt. Unfortunately, memories weren’t so easy to wash down the drain. Neither was heartache.

Two hands wrapped around him from behind. Screaming like a girl, Ryan jumped. His eyes flew open and he spun, nearly slipping and falling at the sight that confronted him.

Vicki, wet and very naked, was standing right before him.

She smiled. “Hi. Sorry I scared you.”

Ryan’s laughter bubbled up from deep within him. He didn’t know what to say first. He’d run over all the many things he would tell her if he ever got the chance, but right now, not one of them came to mind. Not caring that they really shouldn’t be doing this at all, and especially not here in the public shower trailer, he swung Vicki up and crushed her against his chest.

Hell, they could kick him out of the military if they wanted to. Vicki would be worth it. He kissed her as the water streamed over them both.

She wrapped her legs around his naked waist, pulling away just long enough to say, “I’m sorry I left,” before her mouth was back on his.

He shook his head and spun them so he could brace her against the wall of the stall.

“It doesn’t matter. You’re here now.” He rubbed his cock against her, shuddering with the overwhelming pleasure he’d feared he would never get to feel again.

Vicki took in a deep shuttering breath. “I read the blog.” He thrust against her again, bumping her clit but not entering her. She closed her eyes for a second, before opening them to stare into his. “And I love you too.”

He groaned more from the words he so wanted to hear than from the friction of rubbing against her. Ryan concentrated on stroking the spot that would throw Vicki over the edge with the tip of his erection. He felt her body start to shake as he watched the pleasure on her face.