The Officer Says "I Do" (7 page)

At least that she could understand.

***

Tim sat in his office, thumbs gouging into his eye sockets. Today, of all days, when he just wanted to sit in his office and decompress from the one-eighty his life had just taken, all hell breaks loose. Marines not sure whether they were staying or going, families not sure who to contact about their loved ones, the support battalion that Dwayne’s company would be deploying with screaming about not being ready fast enough.

Of course, “fast enough” to them was yesterday. Talk to God about that one, ’cause Tim only had so much pull. And it wasn’t as if he had nothing else going on in his life right now. Twenty-hour workdays weren’t really an option any longer.

Suddenly there was another woman in his life. Not his sister, and not his mother. But his wife.

Marriage had always been in the back of his mind, something he would get around to one of these days. Women he’d dated in the past just never worked out. A few turned out to only be interested in hooking up with a man in uniform. Not Tim himself. That stung, but he quickly learned how to weed out the tag chasers. Another woman had been fine with the lifestyle, but then he’d been transferred to another base in another state, and the relationship hadn’t withstood the distance.

But the last… the last woman had been perfect. Camille. She’d grown up an Army brat—something they had in common. She understood the lifestyle, was aware of the requirements of a military spouse. Knew the pressure, the potential problems, the whole nine yards. Talked about marrying him. Having babies. His parents adored her, and he was half in love with her himself.

Then he deployed. The emails were frequent, the phone calls cheerful. After a month, the emails were less frequent, the calls more rushed. Then they both stopped. And after he started to worry, debated whether to have someone check up on her and make sure she was okay, he got
The
Email
.

He’d been Dear John’ed.

She didn’t want the same life her mother had, didn’t want the constant pressure, hated the separation, blah blah blah.

The perfect potential military spouse turned out to crave the life of a CPA’s wife.

And now he was married to someone who probably wouldn’t know the first thing about the military. The pressure, the possible anxiety, the demands on her own time. Hell, she called his cover a “hat thingie,” for the love of God. This could easily end in disaster.

His mind flitted back to how Skye looked that morning. Sleepy, tangled hair, confused, and more than a little grumpy at being woken up at such an hour. In his bed.

Okay, maybe disaster was a bit strong. He shifted a little to accommodate the growing hardness straining the front of his pants. Thank God his uniform blouse was long enough to cover any obvious tentage.

A knock on his door forced him to pull his sorry ass together. “Come in.”

Dwayne popped his head in. “There’s a lull in my area, and Jeremy’s ready to escape too. Wanna grab a bite?”

Sit around his office all afternoon and constantly think about what a clusterfuck his life was, or go have lunch with his best friends and let them take his mind off of everything?

“Let me grab my cover. I’ll meet you outside.”

A short walk later they stood in front of the O Club.

Dwayne checked his watch. “Thursday. Seafood buffet day.”

Jeremy stared at the entrance and shook his head. “I’m not really feeling seafood today. You want to grab a sub from the deli?”

Dwayne gave him the
Are
you
shitting
me?
look. “Dude. Seafood. Buffet.”

Jeremy glanced at the front door again. “Just not feeling it today.”

“What the hell is your prob—”

“All right, we’ll get deli,” Tim cut in. If he let them continue, they’d go on all day. “God, it’s like living with the Odd Couple,” he muttered as he turned on his heel and walked toward the deli shop. “Get seafood for dinner if you want, D.”

Ten minutes later, they sat in a booth in the back. Dwayne stared mutinously at his double-Italian sub but didn’t open his mouth. Jeremy looked like he wanted to say something, but instead he took a large bite of his sandwich, as if having food in his mouth might keep him from blurting out something stupid.

Tim looked between the two, then sighed. “Yes. I’m married.”

“Holy Puller.” Dwayne breathed. He sat up, dropped his sullen attitude, and leaned over the table. “So it’s true? You seriously got married in Vegas and forgot?”

Tim flicked a pickle at him. “You two saw how much I had to drink. You never should have let me go off by myself in the first place,” he accused. Deflection—always the best defense. Even if it was a weak one.

Dwayne settled back and unwrapped his sub. “You looked good to me.”

Jeremy nodded, then shook his head. “No, remember the Birthday Ball at TBS? He was shitfaced, but nobody knew it until way later? He played it off like he was stone sober, then he just snapped and we found him swimming in the fountain outside the hotel?”

Dwayne snorted, then threw his head back and laughed. “Oh my God. I totally forgot about that. And besides, I wasn’t going to stop you from getting a little tail in Vegas. ’Cause seriously, that’s all I thought you were doing. How the hell were we supposed to know Captain Stick would go from having a one-nighter to marrying the girl?”

Captain Stick. Shit, he’d almost forgotten about that nickname. In TBS, when everyone else found creative ways to circumvent some of the more ridiculous rules, Tim had been adamant about keeping everyone in line—minus that one unfortunate incident with the fountain, which luckily nobody else was witness to. While his restraint might have helped him in school, it didn’t win him any friends from his peers. The name Lieutenant Stick-Up-His-Ass was born… Lieutenant Stick for short. Though Dwayne and Jeremy had never jumped on the Stick bandwagon in public, they had continued to use the name privately when they thought he was too rigid.

Like, always.

He watched Jeremy and Dwayne argue the “could haves” and “should haves” of their time in Vegas, then cut in.

“It’s done, so there’s no point in bitching like girls about it.”

Jeremy poked at his sandwich. “What are you gonna tell Blackwater?”

All three men were silent, and Tim felt a cold chill. Shit. For the first time, he thought about what this was going to sound like to his boss.

Dwayne sat back in the bench seat and draped his arm over the top. “You know how nosy he is. You’re going to catch shit for not running the wedding by him first.”

Tim was losing his appetite. It was lowering to think the man actually thought the Marines needed permission before getting married. “I’ve never had a CO who actually wanted to be notified before you got married. Have you?” The other two shook their heads. “As if he really deserves a vote on who gets married.”

“He thinks he does. And whether he deserves a say on our private lives or not, he thinks he should have one. He’s the one who fills out the paperwork for promotions. Self-important pompous ass,” Jeremy muttered and started wrapping his sandwich up.

“Pompous, did you say?” Dwayne’s grin was huge. “Quite the word.”

“Look it up.” He slammed the sandwich back on the table. “Back to the topic. You can save this. Yeah, he’ll get pissed about you getting married without telling him.” Jer couldn’t quite hold back the sneer at the stupidity of it. “But if you tell him you’re handling it quietly, that it’ll be fixed quickly, then it won’t be as bad.”

“Fixed?” Dwayne asked.

“Yeah, fixed. Divorce. Or maybe annulment. Whatever. The point is, get started on a solution now. So when you have to explain it to him, then it’s done. I’d almost suggest not saying anything at all. But if he did find out by some freak accident, it’d be worse than coming clean now.”

Dwayne’s jaw dropped, and Tim thanked the Lord he’d already swallowed. “So you’re just going to give up that easily?”

Tim figured he could let them in on the real plan, but the fun might just be seeing where this conversation was going to go. He leaned back in his booth seat and crossed his arms. “Why not? It was a drunken decision that I didn’t even remember making. Why should I tether myself to the woman for the rest of my life because of a mistake?”

Dwayne shook his head. “Mistake? Dude, you didn’t see the way you two were acting in Vegas.”

“Are you sure you saw how we were acting? I seem to remember your preoccupation with a certain other leggy lady. Not to mention your own intoxication.” Tim smirked.

Dwayne shrugged, not at all embarrassed. “Hey, the leggy chick was hot. But that’s not the point.” He picked up the other half of his foot long and pointed at Tim with it, bits of lettuce flying across the table. “That woman had you by the balls from the word ‘go.’ I have never seen you look at someone else like that. And you’re just going to throw it all away?” His hands flew up, and a tomato slice plopped on the floor.

“Yes,” Jeremy said.

“No,” Tim replied at the same time, then they looked at each other.

“You’re crazy. You’re
insane
. Tim, I know this whole about-face with the deployment is stressful, but you can’t really be thinking this. You can’t be serious.”

“Looks like he is,” Dwayne said smugly. “Gotta say, I’m proud of you.”

“Thanks, Dad,” Tim said dryly.

“How could you possibly be encouraging this? You know how well an almost-non-existent engagement worked out for you in the past,” Jeremy accused Dwayne.

Dwayne’s face shut down. Shit. Bringing up Dwayne’s ex-fiancée, Blair, was a recipe for disaster. A faked pregnancy, a quick engagement, and a nasty split right before things were made legal had definitely not left a good taste in his friend’s mouth for future relationships.

“We’re not talking about Blair’s conniving ass here. We’re talking about Skye. She’s not saying she’s pregnant. She’s not asking for money, or a green card, or health insurance. She’s asking for a marriage. Right?” Dwayne, ever the optimist—at least where anyone else’s love life was concerned—turned questioning eyes toward Tim.

He leaned forward, effectively cutting off the rest of the restaurant from view, and lowered his voice. “Here’s the thing. This doesn’t leave the table, got it? It gets repeated to nobody. Not your companies, not the CO, not your weekend specials, nobody.” He glanced around quickly, making sure no one they knew was in the deli and likely to come over and say hello. With the all clear, he continued. “Skye pulled a few strings in Vegas and found out where I lived. She came down to see me and talk things out, but we had already bugged out. She waited until I got back. She gave up everything in Vegas, including her job, to move down here. And she did all of that because she wants to make this work.”

“After knowing you less than twenty-four hours? She’s crazy too.” Jeremy breathed. “Aren’t you supposed to be legally sane to marry?”

Dwayne punched him in the shoulder. “Shut up.” He gestured for Tim to continue.

“My original thought was divorce. Or an annulment. I don’t know which would have been the right choice. But the fact was, it was going to end.”

He paused, wondering how much more to tell them.

Jeremy and Dwayne both leaned forward, and Dwayne insisted, “Well?”

Finally, Tim just shrugged. “We talked. She explained her reasons for wanting it to work out, and I agreed.” With some of them, he mentally added. He’d never understand this devotion to the unknown deity of Fate that Skye prescribed to, but his friends didn’t need to know that. Jeremy already thought she was a few nuggets short of a Happy Meal. Knowing she believed Fate brought them together would send him over the edge.

“So you’re just going to let her walk into your life and take over?” Jeremy sat back, face taut. “I don’t believe this. What the hell? She could be a con artist. Or a tag chaser. A crazy psycho, which doesn’t sound too far from the truth right now.”

Dwayne sat back himself. “I think it’ll be fine.”

“Have a little faith there, Jer. For the love of God, I’m not some shiny lieutenant straight out of TBS. I know the signs. Skye is different, but in a good way.”

“Different how?” Jeremy asked warily.

“Just… different. The fact is the marriage is here to stay. For now. We can reevaluate later if things aren’t working out. But when word spreads around the battalion that I’m married all of a sudden, people will want to know info. And they’ll head straight to you two. So the official word is that the relationship moved quickly, it’s a new marriage, and we’re still settling into newlywed life. That’s why we’re so private about it. That’s close enough to the truth to keep it legit, and not so open to invite more questions.”

“Given it some thought, huh?” Jeremy shook his head and went back to eating his sub, like he didn’t want any part of the plan. Tim knew he’d follow through, though.

Yeah, well, not much to do but think when you’re spending all night on a crappy air mattress.
“I’ve thought about it a little. That’s the story and we’re all sticking to it.”

“What will you tell the CO?”

Shit. Though it wasn’t a requirement to tell the CO anything about his personal life, it was considered more a professional courtesy. And the fact remained that battalions were about as gossipy as any wives’ club. The colonel would find out soon enough. And knowing this particular CO, it could get rough. Colonel Blackwater had some very… strict ideas on family values.

“I’ll figure out how to handle it with Colonel Blackwater. I might just have to play that one by ear.”

“As long as you’re happy,” Dwayne said.

“Easy there, Oprah. Wanna talk about our feelings now?” Jeremy sneered.

Damn, he was in a bad mood today. “What’s your problem?” Tim asked, grateful for the topic change.

“Fuck off,” he mumbled around a mouth full of club sandwich.

“Well, if I may bring this lunch to a happy end,” Dwayne said, holding up his plastic cup of soda. “It’s not a beer, but we’ll fix that later. To our man Tim. First one to bite the bullet.” A shit-eating grin spread over his face. “How’s it taste?”