The Officer Says "I Do" (4 page)

“Yeah, I know. OPSEC. It’s all about the operational security. I’ve heard rumors, though. I can guess. Anyway, glad I caught you. There’s a bit of a situation here at the house.”

The hairs on the back of his neck stood, and his breath caught. “Situation? What? Are you okay?”

Jeremy moved like lightning, standing beside him, practically breathing down his neck. “What is it?”

“Yeah, no, I’m fine. Sorry. That sounded ominous, didn’t it?” She laughed, and he felt the tension drain from his body like an uncorked bottle. He nudged Jeremy back a step and signaled that it was fine. Though he moved out of claustrophobic range, Jeremy’s eyes didn’t leave the cell, like he was just waiting for the word to jump through the receiver and end up in California to aid his sister. Times like those, when family might be on the line, he knew he had the best friends possible.

“All right, so what’s the problem?”

“Well, it’s not a problem so much as what I said. Situation. A woman showed up on your doorstep today.”

A woman. He was still at square one. “I need something more than that.”

“Right, sorry. Does the name Skye McDermott ring a bell for you?”

He almost dropped the phone. Sweet Jesus. His pulse pounded in his ears, his hands were clammy. “Describe her,” he rasped, mouth almost too dry to talk. “What does she look like?”

“Um, tall. Way taller than me, which doesn’t say much usually. I mean, I know I’m short and all, but she does seem taller than your average—”

“Madison.”

“Oh, right. Sorry. Um, brunette. Long, curly hair. In shape. Really cute. Blue-gray eyes.”

It was hitting all the right marks. At least, it was hitting all the marks in his foggy memory. What the hell would she have wanted with him? How could she have even tracked him down? He didn’t leave anything with his address in the room, he was sure of it. He certainly hadn’t talked to her in the week and a half since. So why would she even bother tracking—oh God.

She’s pregnant.

“You’re pregnant?” his sister shrieked in his ear.

“No!” someone yelled back, voice slightly muffled.

Well, fuck. Guess he said that one out loud. Wait—

“Was that Skye? Is she there with you? Is she still at the house?”

“Well, yeah.” He could almost see his sister roll her eyes. “You think I’d just kick your wife out on the street?”

“My…” He looked at Jeremy, who had relaxed enough to sit on top of his bed, but was still paying rapt attention. Normally he’d put the blame on his friends for pulling a horrible joke. But this was a little too much, even for their sick and twisted minds.

“All right, can you just back up a bit?”

“Sure,” she said, like there was no problem at all. “I got home from my shift, changed, and there was a knock. Skye here was standing on the doorstep. I didn’t know what to make of it, but then she told me she was your wife.”

No. This wasn’t making any sense.

Madison went on without pause. “So I was shocked because, really, why would my brother, one of my best friends in the entire world, go and get married and not tell me? Not to mention your slight anal-retentive problem. Anal-retentive people don’t just up and marry strangers in Vegas. I mean, it seemed a little implausible.”

That was one word for it.

“So I basically accused her of being a money-grubbing hussy.”

“Hussy?” Tim nearly choked on the word. Jeremy’s brows raised in surprise. “Uh, squirt, I don’t think anyone uses that word anymore.”

“Don’t call me that. That was my first thought. I mean, why else would someone track your ugly mug down from Vegas?”

“Squirt. The story. It’s kinda important.”

“No problem. But then she said she had no clue how much you won.”

Entirely plausible, since even Tim didn’t know how much he’d won until he checked his bank account. Thank God for instant wire transfers.

“Hold on,” Madison said suddenly. Muffled words he couldn’t quite make out, as if she put her hand over the phone. “She wants me to remind you that you were the one who proposed. Not her. Behind a—behind a what?” Her voice was muted, probably covering the receiver with her fingers. Then she said, “She said you proposed behind a potted palm. Among other things. Apparently the place to be is behind a tree.” The dry humor was too obvious to miss. Madison was thoroughly enjoying this.

Tim had a flash of exactly what they’d been doing in the darkened hallway behind the tree. Hot lips, smooth skin… He shifted on the bed and turned away from Jeremy to readjust his cammie pants. “Yeah, moving on.”

“Uh huh. So anyway, after hearing that, I figured I needed to get to the bottom of this. So I asked her for some proof. And she produced a license.”

A license. A fucking license. How drunk had he been? Where the hell had they gotten a marriage license? And who in God’s name would give a marriage license to a drunk ass like him?

Someone who worked in Vegas. Hell, sober people were probably an anomaly in the office.

“But I pointed out—and rightly so—that anyone can forge things these days. Photoshop can do miracle works. Anyway, she wasn’t overly pleased with my logic there. I can’t really blame her. I mean, I’d probably punch someone if they accused me of something illegal. Luckily she didn’t take a swing. But she does have pictures.”

“Pictures?”

“Yeah, pictures. Hold on a sec, Skye, I get better reception out here. Help yourself to whatever’s in the fridge.” He heard a door slide open and shut, and he knew she was out on his back patio. “She had a few pictures on her phone. And a few more that she said came from the actual chapel, came with your package apparently, along with the fake bouquet and her veil.” Tim could all but hear the smirk in his sister’s voice. “You guys at the clerk’s office applying, during the wedding, after the ceremony. It’s definitely you, Tim.” Her voice took on a misty, watery sound again. “You look happy. Really happy.”

Happy? That was one way to describe being so drunk he didn’t even know he was getting married. Yeah, he was happy off his ass. But that wasn’t what his only sister wanted to hear when confronting him about getting married without the family. “Sorry, Madison.”

“Uh huh. Anyway, I just thought you’d want to know. Tim, obviously you were wasted. You don’t look it, and anyone who didn’t know you well probably wouldn’t realize it. But I know you. You wouldn’t have kept this from me. Not if you were in your right mind.”

“You’re right.” He sat on the edge of his own bed, rubbing the back of his neck. SNAFU did not begin to describe his life at that very moment.

“She’s the real deal, Tim.”

“What does that mean?”

Madison blew out a breath. “It means, I don’t think she’s a tag chaser or some weirdo with a Marine fetish, or someone who is dead broke and wants a meal ticket and good health insurance. I know I have nothing to go off of, but my instincts say she’s legit. Not quite your type, but legit. When she told me the story, it was like she got just as swept away as you did that night, in an honest chain of mistakes.”

“I believe it.” He trusted his sister’s judgment. As a nurse, she saw too many people in every stage of life not to have a pretty decent judge of character. “Wait, what do you mean she wasn’t my type?” From his recollection, he’d been attracted to her because she was exactly his type. Beautiful, well-spoken, put together, long legs, big eyes…

“Um, hmm. Did I say that?”

“Yeah. You did. Quit stalling, squirt.”

“What do you want me to do about her?”

He blew out a breath. “Did she happen to mention what her plans were when she found me?”

“Not quite. I didn’t think it was my place to ask. I know she has a room already at an extended stay motel for now. But as far as the plan, I think that’s something you should talk to her about. But not right now. She’s tired, and more than a little confused about you not being here. I don’t think she realized how soon you were leaving. Besides, this isn’t really a convo for the phone.”

“I’ll call you when I know something, okay? Get her contact info—all of it. The name and address of the motel, permanent address, cell phone, everything you can think of. Knock her over, steal her wallet, and write down her driver’s license number if you have to. Just don’t let her get away.”

“Aye aye, sir,” was her only cheeky remark, then there was dead air.

He shut the phone and tossed it on the bed.

“Son of a bitch. What happened?”

Jeremy’s remark snapped him out of his plan to wallow in the mess his life was turning into. “Yeah, we’ll talk about it later. Let’s go talk to the CO, see if there’s been a change. I’m finding myself more than a little anxious to shore up plans right now.”

Skye caught herself biting her thumbnail and quickly pulled her hand away from her mouth. What she really wanted to do was stand up and pace around the living room, stuff her face into a pillow and scream, or punch her mattress. But she didn’t want Madison to think she was five shades of crazy four days after meeting her. So she settled for staring out the window.

“It’s okay,” Madison said with a smile. She set a tray down on the coffee table with a pitcher of lemonade and two glasses filled with ice. “Things are always delayed with troop movement. Nature of the game.” Then, as if it was no big deal that an entire huge batallion-thingie full of Marines was missing, she poured two glasses and sat back to sip on her drink. “Hurry up and wait is a big motto around here. If you stick around, you’ll hear it enough.”

For a woman who cared about her brother, Madison didn’t show much concern about when he’d be returning.

“But he said they’d be back three hours ago.”

Madison gave a shrug and sipped her lemonade again. “That’s life in the military. Nothing is on time, or at least the time they give you. I’m in the military myself, and we grew up in it. I don’t know any other way to be.”

“But you’re in the Navy,” Skye pointed out.

Madison grinned and handed her a frosty glass. “Much to my family’s eternal shock and disappointment. The Marines don’t have a medical corps, or I would have been. But when it comes to schedules, the rule is the same across the board.” When Skye gave her a questioning look, her shoulders shook with laughter. “The rule is there is no schedule.”

Ah. Not sure what to say, she took a sip of lemonade. That was quite a shock to Skye. She’d grown up in a commune of freethinkers, people who were more about doing things when the spirit moved them and less about what the calendar said. If anything, she would have guessed the military to be the exact opposite. But then again, she also doubted the lack of a schedule within the military had much to do with the alignment of the planets or someone’s inner chakra speaking and more to do with the uncertainty of war.

“Thank you again for letting me come back each day for an update,” she said. “I know this must be very odd for you. You didn’t say as much, but I could tell the news was upsetting.”

“A little,” Madison admitted, placing her glass on the tray with delicacy. She wiped her hands on her jeans and stared out the window.

“I won’t be offended,” Skye offered. Madison couldn’t say anything she hadn’t already said to herself. Or her friend Tasha, who gave her the yelling of a lifetime after she’d heard what happened.

Madison glanced back at her, as if trying to decide how far to go. Then she shrugged and spoke. “First of all, we’re tight. The whole family is tight, the four of us. There’s a decent age gap between myself and my brother—five years, to be exact. But he’s always been there for me. When you’re the new kid, sometimes the only person on the block to play with for a while is related to you.”

“I wish I could relate,” Skye said, and she meant it. She’d been “a beautiful accident,” as her mother liked to say. But an accident that was never repeated. No siblings for her. But she did have an abundance of other children to run around with on the commune. Siblings under the same sun, her mother told her once, as she dismissed Skye’s childish plea for a real brother or sister. It still wasn’t the same thing.

“Well, brothers aren’t always everything they’re cracked up to be,” Madison said with a wink. “I endured my fair share of teasing and pranks. But overall, he’s the best guy I know. He protected me like a bulldog from the start, always on the lookout for domestic evils. So time to return the favor.”

“A domestic evil, huh?” Skye smiled at the thought of being viewed as such. Likely she should have been annoyed, even offended. But she just found it amusing… and a little flattering. She’d been called odd, crazy, a tree-hugging hippie before. But something to be concerned about, that was definitely a new one.

“That came out wrong, didn’t it?” Madison asked, not looking at all sorry. “You have to understand, my brother getting married without telling me or my parents? It didn’t even seem remotely possible. And besides that, to get married to a woman who is so not…” She trailed off, blushing instead of continuing.

“So not what?”

“Well, just not his usual type.”

Skye picked at her baggy cotton drawstring pants. She could easily guess what that meant. She wasn’t an idiot.

“You’re just easy to talk to, with how laid back you are. And really, I haven’t wanted to gag myself once since you got here. You’re not super-straightlaced. And thank God for that, because Tim so doesn’t need the female version of himself. Worst idea ever. And I can tell you aren’t a tag chaser.”

“A tag chaser?” These people spoke completely different languages. Skye needed a guidebook and one of those little translation pamphlets you could pick up in customs.

Madison grinned a little. “Women who are obsessed with snatching up a military man. Some sort of fetish, really. The guys wear dog tags. Tag chasers.”

“Oh, I get it.” She waited for mention of her clothing, but nothing came. Hmm. That wasn’t even going to be brought up? Maybe Madison didn’t notice fashion much.

Madison chewed on her lip for a moment, then rocked forward, folding her forearms on the table. “Mind if I ask you something?”

“Mmm hmm. I mean no. Ask away.”

“What’s your plan?”

Skye’s heart sped up; her throat clogged a little at the reminder that the future wouldn’t always be so easy as lazy afternoon lemonade chats with her fun new sister-in-law. “What do you mean?”

Madison cocked her head to one side, her eyes turning just a little hard. Protective waves rolled off her. “I’m a pretty straight shooter, and I think you are too, though you’re trying to be polite about it. I can appreciate that, but seriously, you won’t offend me. I’ll start with this. I don’t think you’re stupid. You came out here for something. You obviously knew where to start looking for him. You could have started the divorce proceedings from Vegas.” She looked down, then back up again, and her expression softened. “I don’t think it’s money.”

Skye picked invisible lint from her sheer top shirt. Of course she had a plan. But that was between her and Tim. Especially since the plan depended so much on what he was thinking. Was there any nice way of letting Madison know that—

“It’s none of my business.”

Skye’s head snapped up. What—did mind reading capabilities come issued with the uniform?

Madison smiled. “I can tell when someone is dodging.” Her head cocked to one side. “Looks like you’ll get the chance to tell Tim your plan soon. I hear Dwayne’s piece-of-shit backwoods truck now.” She jumped up and ran to the window. “Yup, I was right. They’re here.”

Skye’s heart, which had only just started to slow down a bit, skipped several beats before moving double-time. The pulse thundered in her ears, and her hands felt numb. She shook them out and stood up, smoothing down the unseen wrinkles in her pants before following Madison to the front window.

A large, mud-splattered red pickup truck with huge wheels was pulling into the driveway behind Madison’s sedan. The sound was almost deafening—or would have been had blood not still been hammering through her eardrums. She saw the passenger door open, someone hop down, then immediately head back to the bed of the truck to haul out bags. His hat and a glare on the living room window blocked any chance at seeing the face. Tossing the bags on the lawn, the man walked to the driver side door and gave the driver a slap on the shoulder through the window. The driver honked the horn once, then backed out. And the man—it had to be Tim—stood with his hands on his hips, looking expectantly toward the front door.

“Sorry, I know you’re his wife and all, but you seem like you can’t breathe, so I’m gonna take first dibs.”

“First dibs on—” Skye started to ask, but Madison was already gone. Out the door, down the sidewalk, and launching herself at Tim. He stumbled back once and caught her, spinning in a circle while her legs dangled.

Well, no time like the present.
Skye took one more look at her outfit—one of the most sensible things she owned that wasn’t a work uniform—and headed out the door. But she stopped on the sidewalk, feeling like an intruder in a private family moment.

You’re a part of that family now too.

But she wasn’t. Not really. Not yet.

Soon.

She took one deep breath, prayed her knees would hold her up, and walked up behind Madison, who was still clinging to her brother with a desperation that spoke of her love for him.

His hat had flown off at the sisterly attack, and she could see his face clearly now. And then her lungs compressed again, like a vise in her chest. This was the man she had married. And every single reason for why she had agreed flooded her again. Still handsome, still serious. But at the same time, happy. Happy to see his sister again. Then his eyes blinked open, and she saw a flash of something in them when he noticed her.

The urge to pace the cement walkway was strong, so instead she locked her knees and waited for the moment with Madison to pass. Finally, Madison peeled herself off of Tim and stepped back, wiping tears from her eyes. She gave a sheepish look to Skye.

“Sorry. I know he was only gone a week but… you know. It was supposed to be longer.”

At the weepy look in the otherwise-strong woman’s eye, Skye felt a little misty herself. But when she caught sight of Tim staring at her, the mushy emotion faded into something much more like panic.

How would he react? Would he give her a hug like his sister? Would he give her a kiss? A handshake? For some stupid reason, how he greeted her seemed like it would set the tone for what was to come.

Apparently the tone was… nothing.

He stared at her, his gaze neither welcoming nor condemning. He shifted his weight forward, then back on his heels again. It was like he couldn’t figure out how to respond, what the right thing to say was. The right thing to do.

That
makes
two
of
us.

Madison shifted beside Tim, and Skye realized the two of them were staring at each other like a high noon showdown. Okay, so this would be awkward. But what did she expect—him to sweep her off her feet and cart her off to Aruba for a honeymoon?

“Welcome home, I guess. I didn’t realize when you said you were deploying that you meant so soon.”

He shrugged and bent to pick up a long, olive green bag. “That’s the way it works.”

Madison picked up a thick briefcase-shaped box and headed for the front door. Relishing the ability to have something to do with her hands, Skye grabbed a knapsack and slung it over her shoulder, following Madison. She barely made it through the front door before a large hand touched her neck while reaching for the strap. The brush of rough fingertips made her shiver.

“I’ll take that.” Tim slid the pack off her shoulders and dropped the entire bundle on the tile floor by the door. “I’m just going to leave it here for now.”

The three stood in the foyer, a heavy silence settling around them. Nobody seemed to look at anyone else. Should she go? Was this a time for him and his sister to talk? It was their house, anyway. But there was so much she needed to tell him, it was practically bursting out of her. She tamped down the urge to yell out her reason for coming, get it over with like ripping a bandage off.

Definitely not the right impression.

Tim cleared his throat and gave Madison a pointed glance. “Dwayne mentioned drinks at the O Club with Jeremy. Maybe you wanna go check that out, squirt.”

Madison rolled her eyes and laughed. “Subtle. Very subtle. But you’re right. Drinks with those two sounds perfect.” She picked up a purse sitting on the entry table and stood on her tiptoes to give him another kiss on the cheek. “Good to have you back, bro, even for a little while.” Before she closed the door behind her, she called out, “Don’t call me squirt.”

Tim’s chuckle rumbled through the nearly empty room. Then he turned toward her, and the amusement evaporated into an intense hunger. Something she could relate to.

She was hungry for him too.

***

For four days, Tim had planned out exactly what he was going to say. He would apologize profusely for his behavior in Vegas, for getting them into the mess they were in. Yeah, he might have been drunk, but he still should have kept a cool head. And then, like the strategist he was, he outlined exactly how he would fix things, make them better.

His calm, cool, organized plan of attack faded away as he stood there alone with Skye, in his house. He tried to think of his opening sentence, his follow-up statements. Nothing. It was a big, fuzzy blank. Everything but Skye was gone from his mind. She was standing there, in the flesh. The woman he’d been thinking about the entire bus ride across the country. She looked confused and completely out of her element. A contrast from the confident Vegas woman he’d met a few weeks ago. But somehow just as appealing.

“So, um.” She fingered the hem of her long shirt, as if afraid or embarrassed to look at him. “How was your trip?”

Was she really going to just stand there and make small talk?

“Good. Long, and proved to be pointless. But can’t complain I guess.”

She nodded, glancing around like she was looking for inspiration. “Your deployment was canceled, then? Madison was telling me about how sometimes things like that happen. Though she hadn’t heard of it happening so soon before you guys left. But that it wasn’t out of the question. I guess that’s weird to me since nothing in my job would ever be so last-minute. I mean, you get problems all the time and you have to think on your feet in the restaurant business, but then that’s true of any… job… I guess…” She lost steam and took a deep breath. And he lost it.

Grabbing her shoulders, he whirled her around until her back hit the wall behind him. A picture rattled on the wall, her hip bumped the entry table, and keys clattered to the floor. He didn’t care about that. He cared about her eyes.