The Officer Says "I Do" (20 page)

Suzanna—another of Skye’s favorite wives, and her guardian angel for the evening—paused at the refreshment table. “The queen has spoken,” she murmured in Skye’s ear and gave her a wink before heading into the living room.

Thank God it wasn’t just her. Someone else had validated her opinion of the Head Bitch in Charge.

Skye managed to fit the platter of brownies onto the kitchen table, grabbed a cup of tea for herself, and headed in. Exactly what was going on, she had no clue. Please, God, let this not be something like baby showers where people played embarrassing games.

Mrs. Blackwater tapped the tip of her pen rhythmically against the binder’s hard plastic cover until all the women were seated in a circle, waiting for the queen to speak.

“Well. First off, let us thank Skye O’Shay for her quick work to step in and host this coffee for us. She went above and beyond for a new wife.”

The words were right, but the woman’s tone couldn’t be any farther from sincere if she tried. Skye bit her tongue on correcting the woman on her last name while there were polite, soft claps. Suzanna nudged her with a shoulder as a silent congratulations.

“Now let’s get down to business. As we all know, Charlie Company will be deploying tomorrow. That means a few of you will now be husbandless for the next several months. Charlie wives, please raise your hand. Not all are here, naturally. But a few. Everyone look around and see your fellow wives who will need your support.”

Skye glanced around and saw a few women with their hands up. Nobody was teary-eyed. Nobody sniffled or sobbed. There was simply a grim acceptance in their body language, steel in their spine, and determination written on their faces. These women weren’t ones to need their hand held often. Her respect for the women in the room grew exponentially.

“Thank you, ladies. We will try to wrap up as soon as possible to get you home to spend time with your families.”

As Mrs. Blackwater continued on about the changes from the entire battalion deploying to now only having one company gone and what that could signal for a spouse, Skye’s mind drifted. What would it be like if Tim were the one leaving instead? He almost had been the one taking off. How would she feel, losing him for months at a time? Would she be stoic in the face of a deployment like these women? Or would her emotional side get the better of her? Likely a bit of both.

But she hated the thought of him leaving at all. They were just getting started on this life journey of marriage. To lose him again for so long would be cruel. Thank goodness he was sticking around, at least for now.

“And that concludes the official business, unless anyone else has anything to add. No? Well, then. Now for the good stuff.” A wicked gleam came over Mrs. Blackwater’s eyes as she leaned forward. “Did anyone see the base CO’s wife at the fund-raiser last week? If not, you missed something good. The woman was dressed in this ridiculous outfit. She—”

Skye popped up, completely unwilling to sit through a woman-hating session, even if it was a one-woman show. “I’m sorry to interrupt, Mrs. Blackwater. Does anyone need a refill or want another plate?”

A few women glanced her way, and she thought she saw gratitude in their eyes. Several held up their hands, asking for more tea or coffee.

“A plate of treats wouldn’t be unwelcome, sweetie,” Mrs. Blackwater called without making eye contact.

“Sure thing,” Skye said, using her best
you’re the customer so you have to be right, but mentally I’m kicking your ass to Kentucky
voice. She turned toward the kitchen, orders mentally filed.

“I’ll give you a hand with those.” Suzanna popped up and shuffled around the chairs and women to get to the kitchen.

Once in the privacy of the kitchen, Suzanna started giggling. In a low voice she said, “Nice work. Almost none of us likes to listen to that woman go on about who she saw wearing what or doing whatever in the commissary. But she does anyway. And nobody can figure out how to shut her up without enduring her wrath or worrying if she’ll take it out on
our
husbands through
her
husband.”

Skye nodded, understanding completely. But still, she tried for diplomacy. “It must be hard, being the CO’s wife. I mean, her husband is in charge of our husbands, so maybe it’s difficult for her to figure out how to fit in.”

Suzanna snorted and started making up paper plates of veggies and dip. “The last CO’s wife was seriously kick-ass cool. She never gossiped, she never spoke about anyone behind their backs, and she was always the first one in line to help out the new spouse. She even showed up to help me paint my living room when I mentioned offhand that I was going to start the next day. Trust me, it’s the individual, not the job description. And that individual is… something else.” She pointed toward the living room with a celery stick.

Once again, no shocker to Skye. Though the military community was new to her, the general rule of thumb about treating others as you wanted to be treated seemed to apply. She gathered the tray of refilled drinks and hefted it up. “Ready to go back into battle?”

Suzanna grinned and followed her in just in time to catch the tail end of some story Mrs. Blackwater was gracing everyone with.

“And I just thought to myself, ‘Flip-flops? Who wears flip-flops in public? And to the exchange no less? They’re so tacky!’” Mrs. Blackwater tossed her head back and laughed.

Skye watched as the wife sitting directly to Mrs. Blackwater’s right flushed and tucked her feet—which had adorable jeweled flip-flops on—as far under her seat as possible. Poor thing.

“Cookies and tea, get ’em while they’re hot!” Skye announced cheerfully, setting the tray down on the coffee table so everyone could reach for their cup or a plate.

Mrs. Blackwater sat back, a bakery cookie in one clawed hand. She took a bite and made a shocked face.

“These are delicious, Skye. I have to say I didn’t take you to be the baking sort. Too… domestic for your type, if you know what I mean.”

Skye knew exactly what she meant. But she resisted flipping her the bird as thanks.

“You’ll need to give me your recipe.”

It was all she could do to hold back the snort of laughter. “Sorry. Family secret. I was sworn to secrecy.” Before the woman could launch into another tirade on an unsuspecting victim, Skye asked, “Has anyone seen the new movie that just came out? The one with that singer-turned-actress… oh what’s her name?”

“I did!” the woman wearing flip-flops all but shouted and jumped out of her chair with gratitude.

“You did? Did you like it? Oh man. I can’t decide if it’s a good date night movie for us or not.”

She could almost hear the audible group sigh of relief as women settled back into their chairs, getting comfortable. If nothing else, she would consider this moment of group happiness a triumph in her first coffee.

***

“You did great. I’m really impressed.” Suzanna tied off a garbage bag and hauled it to the corner of the kitchen.

“Thanks. But you didn’t have to stay and help,” Skye protested for the fifth time.

“I know how quickly the mess piles up,” she said, opening another garbage bag with a flick of her wrists and a pop of plastic. “And we’re all grateful that you could have us last-minute. These coffees can be really great for wives to meet each other and bond. A good way to make friends for those who are new to the area. So when you stepped in to pick up the responsibility, we were relieved.”

“I was just doing a favor for a friend. It was no big deal,” Skye said and thought about the devoured plate of cookies. She bit back a smile as she set dishes in the sink to wash later. “I’ve never been to one of these before, but it was nice.”

“They can be,” Suzanna agreed, sitting down in a kitchen chair. “All depends on the group of women, just like most things. Too many pissy cats and the group starts to fall apart. But often they can be a great night with girls. This is a pretty good group.”

Skye said nothing.

“The good thing is that the Blackwaters will be taking off soon enough. Commands come and go. We’ll get another CO, and here’s hoping they’re a little more relaxed this time.”

“Hmm,” Skye said noncommittally as she put the leftover iced tea back in the fridge.

Suzanna had shown up fifteen minutes early and declared herself Skye’s ambassador for the evening. In other words, a guardian angel sent by Beth to smooth the way. Skye couldn’t have been more grateful if she’d fallen on the woman’s feet and kissed them.

Suzanna sighed and slid into a chair. “I have work in the morning, but I’m so not ready to go home and face the brood quite yet.”

“Where do you work?”

“Manager at a bank.” She named the chain. “It’s nice, there’s one almost everywhere we go. So far, I haven’t had any trouble moving into a new job when we PCSed.”

With quick side glances, Skye studied the graceful woman at the kitchen table. In a halter-style dress with soft pastel washes of color, she was the epitome of everything Skye was hoping to emulate and had no chance of coming close. But she was sure as hell going to give it her best shot.

Suzanna lifted the hair off the back of her neck, and Skye caught sight of a small tattoo just below the hairline. Completely covered when she wore her hair down, the tattoo was tiny and likely very personal. She didn’t ask. But it did make her smile.

Suzanna left a few minutes later with the promise of calling. As Skye walked her to the door, she noticed another car sitting in front of the house. A closer inspection told her it was Madison’s.

While Suzanna drove away, Skye stood on the front porch waiting patiently. Finally Madison opened the door and trudged up the driveway. A prisoner walking the last mile couldn’t have looked more depressed.

“Hey.” She threw her arm around Madison’s shoulders. “What’s with the mope? Did your dog die?”

“No, not my dog. My dream,” Madison muttered.

Skye could easily guess what that was referring to, and her heart hurt for her new sister. “Okay, that’s it. You’re coming in and we’re having a bitchfest.” When Madison paused in the doorway, Skye added, “I have leftover brownies… and booze.” That seemed to convince her. Skye shut the door behind them and walked her to the living room.

“How did you know I needed to bitch about something?” Madison asked as she flopped down on the couch.

“You just have the look. You want something to drink?” Skye floated to the kitchen.

“If you’re referring to water, the answer is no. If you mean something with a kick, bring it on.”

Skye smiled as she mixed two rum and Cokes, heavy on the Coke. Bringing out the glasses, along with a plate of Blackwater brownies, she sat down next to Madison and propped her feet on the couch. She waited, taking slow sips until Madison was ready.

It didn’t take long.

“Why? Why are men so stupid?”

Having just been on the receiving end of an extremely thoughtful act by a male, Skye wisely kept her mouth shut.

“They say no, they mean yes. They show yes, then they act all no.” Madison waved her arm around, liquid sloshing close to the rim. Skye reached for the glass.

“I’ll take this so you don’t spill.”

“Mine,” Madison all but growled and downed the drink in three quick gulps. Skye mentally cringed. Madison held out the empty cup. “Any more in the kitchen?” Before Skye could answer, she stood. “Never mind. I’ll pour my own.” She shuffled into the kitchen then right back out again, holding the bottle of rum and liter of Coke. Sitting back down, she poured another glass of rum and Coke. Heavy on the rum this time.

“Okay, time to talk before you start slurring,” Skye decided. “I need more information than just how much men suck.”

Madison took a fortifying gulp and sat back, resting the glass on her abdomen. “This might come as a shock, but I’ve got this… thing for Jeremy.”

Skye snorted before she could stop herself. When Madison gave her a dry look, she said, “Sorry.” Then taking another tiny sip of her own drink, she waved with her hand for Madison to continue.

“As I was saying, I’ve had a crush on him for God knows how long. I think since I met him, even though I was only like sixteen, maybe seventeen at the time. Not surprisingly, he didn’t notice me at all. I mean, he was graduating TBS. Different places in life. But now, in the same place at the same time, with both of us being unattached adults, I thought maybe…”

A lifetime of hope hung in that one word.

Madison blew out a breath and drained her glass, leaning forward to fill it up once more. Skye debated telling her to slow down, but then thought,
What’s the point?
Madison was a big girl. She’d just take her keys and make sure she crashed in the guest room.

“One minute he hates me. Wants nothing to do with me. Pushes me away. Then the next he’s practically pawing me, slamming me into walls so he can—” she gestured with her glass again, now thankfully half-empty, “you know. The good stuff.” She slammed the rest of the drink back.

“Um, do you want something to eat?”
Please
say
yes.

“Not hungry.” As Tim’s sister leaned forward to grab the Coke, her first swipe turned up air. “Damn bottle moved,” she muttered and nabbed it on the second try.

“Madison, you’re already on your way to Drunkville. Should you maybe slow down a bit?” Skye pried the glass out of her lax fingers and set it down.

“Not Drunkville. Tipsy Town, maybe,” Madison corrected with careful diction. “Tipsy Town. What a stupid thing to say…”

“How can you be drunk off of three glasses?”

“Oh, hell. I’m a buck-ten and I didn’t eat dinner,” she responded with clarity that should have eluded her, pouring drink number four. “Bastard stole my dinner on top of everything. I’m not a lush, you know. I just want to forget. For the moment, that’s all.”

Since Skye knew she wouldn’t be driving, and was pretty sure Madison wouldn’t become a destructive or violent drunk, she saw no reason for the poor girl not to indulge the whim for the night. She’d likely pay for it in the morning, anyway. “Tell me more about the problem with Jeremy,” she prompted, relaxing back and taking another sip.

“Telling is not forgetting. But what the hell.” Madison stood up then, pacing in front of the coffee table. After a moment, she stopped and turned her too-bright eyes to Skye. “You know, I see why you pace when you’re angry. It really helps the thoughts flow, doesn’t it?” Before Skye could respond, she went back to pacing and talking. “Jeremy wants to pretend that there’s no attraction between us. I don’t know why; it’s no small thing. There are times I want to just shove him in the first available room with a door and rip his clothes off. And then the rest of the time I want to beat his head with a skillet.”

Skye couldn’t hold back the laughter then. “Sounds completely natural.”

“There are times that I hate him so much because of how he treats me. And those times I wish I wasn’t hating him. Because hatred is too much for him, too much energy. He drains me when I’m around him. But then there are the other times when I almost wonder if I love him. If my childish crush wasn’t just a warm-up for the real deal.

“And it’s impossible to figure out what he’s thinking, or why he’s acting the way he is,” Madison went on. “He’s always so quiet and reserved. Which normally I find immensely sexy—though God knows why. He’s a brooder. And I hate brooding. But on him, the quietness is somehow, I don’t know. It’s magnetic. Like it’s just inviting me to try to learn his secrets. Like he won’t share them with anyone but…”

“Someone he loves?” Skye supplied.

Madison’s eyes wandered the living room, and if she’d heard Skye’s question, she didn’t show it. “Why haven’t I kicked any dirty laundry?” She turned a tight circle, like a dog chasing its tail. “Where’s all your magazines? Where are the candles?”

“I cleaned up before the coffee,” Skye said gently. “Along with buying the new wardrobe.”

“Ah.” Madison gave Skye a blurry-eyed once-over. “This looks more like Tim. More like how I pictured it being with him. This whole… thing.” She waved her arms around the room wildly.

Something cold slithered down Skye’s spine. “What do you mean?”

Madison filled a fifth glass—mostly with Coke, to Skye’s relief—and continued pacing. But slower this time, taking in the surroundings. She ran a finger along the mantel, pausing to trace a picture frame. Her movements were languid, as if she moved underwater.

“How I pictured marriage. For Tim, anyway. Easy, neat. A place for everything, and everything in its place, including his wife. You look like you belong here, in this room, in that outfit.”

Skye wondered if Madison even realized she was talking out loud. She sat perfectly still, not wanting to break her sister-in-law’s train of thought.

“I just always thought he would find a wife very much like him. One that would slip into his life almost unnoticed. Stealth. Just make herself at home, as if she’d always been there. No waves. No worries. That’s who he’s always dated in the past. Female versions of Tim. Straight-laced, understanding of the Corps and its hold on his life, steadfast.”

Something clawed the inside of Skye’s gut, and she set the glass down quietly.

“He found you instead.” Madison turned now, a glazed look in her eyes, loopy smile pasted to her face. “You like incense. And clutter. Clutter is fun, right?”

The way Madison’s head tilted, Skye assumed the question wasn’t rhetorical. “Uh huh. Fun.” She stood and took the glass from Madison’s fingers. “You know what else is fun? Sleeping.”

“Mmm. Yeah.” Madison didn’t resist as Skye took her hand and led her up the stairs, supervised as she readied for the night, and tucked her into the guest bed.

“Female Tim never would have let me drink,” Madison murmured as she started to drift off.

“I doubt it,” Skye whispered back. Female Tim seemed infinitely smarter than her. She set a trash can by the bed in case, though she doubted Madison would need it. With one last check to make sure she was breathing fine, Skye left her to sleep off the rum and pain.

Skye headed back downstairs to clean up the small mess. Normally, she wouldn’t mind leaving the entire thing until the next day. Especially not when she was so tired. But something about having Tim come home to a ripped up kitchen and living room made her finish the task. Just another thing she needed to start doing regularly.

She debated calling Tim to see how long he would be out with Jeremy and Dwayne but decided against it. Instead, she put on a pair of his old boxer shorts, an older T-shirt, and crawled into bed. With the thoughts swimming through her mind, Skye was positive she’d be awake for hours. But within minutes she was drifting.

***

Hours later, Skye woke to cold hands on her abdomen and a warm body pressing against her back. She looked over her shoulder, eyes adjusting to the silvery moonlight creeping in through the slats in the blinds.

“Hey,” Tim whispered. His lips moved over her jawline, neck, lower. “I wondered if you’d need help cleaning up, but you’re already done.”

Skye checked the clock and saw it was barely midnight. When had she started going to bed so early? “I didn’t want to leave the mess for later.”

Between kisses, Tim murmured, “Madison’s car is outside.”

She gave up on going back to sleep and rolled over onto her back. “She had too much to drink so she’s in the guest bedroom.”

Tim’s head lifted at that, a slight scowl on his face. “Why was she drinking so much?”

The truth wasn’t hers to give, so Skye evaded. “She just got a little carried away. No big deal.”

Tim’s scowl deepened. “That’s not amusing. She should have been more careful.”

Skye sighed inwardly. “She was with someone she trusted and she wasn’t driving. I made her drink an entire glass of water before she went to sleep and put her to bed on her side. I don’t know how much more careful you can get.”

“Drinking to excess really is never smart,” the walking safety pamphlet responded. “People act like idiots when they drink like that.”

Never
smart. Act like idiots.
The entire reason they were married was because Tim had been too drunk to realize the big step he was making that night in Vegas. And now he wanted to say that it was never a good idea? She shifted once again onto her side, her back toward Tim. Hopefully he would get the hint and drop it before she snarled at him.

“Dwayne wants you to come to the send-off tomorrow,” he whispered in her ear, taking a nip out of the skin beneath her lobe. “If you’re not working, that is. So do I.”

Okay, she couldn’t be silent when he said stuff like that. “Did he have fun tonight?”

“Yup. Simple guys’ night in. He’s ready to get out there. He thrives on deployment.”

Skye could hardly imagine someone who could thrive in a war, but she didn’t say so. Tim continued his slow meander over her neck, her ear, her jaw. When she didn’t respond—with words or action—he spoke again.

“Is something wrong?”

Not
according
to
you, apparently.
She sighed and shifted onto her back again, looking in his eyes. His look was sweet, concerned. But all the same, confused. Just like a man. Time to give the guy a break.

Only
that
I’ve been busy falling for my husband, and I’m pretty sure he’s not falling with me.
“Nope. Nothing.” She smiled, determined not to bother him with her own rising insecurities. Neuroticism was never attractive.

Tim looked at her another long moment, then shifted behind to pull her back against his chest. His hand moved idly over her stomach, rubbing slow circles over her top until he came to rest under her breast. Her nipples hardened, despite her annoyance. Damn man and his ability to get her going no matter what.

“I missed you tonight.” His voice was low, husky.

“You had a good reason to go out.” She gave up resisting and nuzzled back against him. His hand pulled her shirt up over her breasts until he thumbed her nipples. They tightened painfully and her breathing quickened.

“Doesn’t mean I didn’t miss you. And this.” Suddenly she was missing one pair of shorts. The man was slick. He pulled her top leg until it lifted up and back, over his own hip. Spreading her wide for his touch. His finger grazed over her warm center and she shivered.

His fingers played her until she was panting. Grazing her clit, never staying long on the spot she wanted him most.

“Relax, baby.” His voice was a whisper over her ear.

She couldn’t relax. Because when she relaxed, she fell harder. And it hurt.

The blunt head of his cock pushed against her wet folds, insistent and demanding until he was completely seated inside her. His grip was hard, almost harsh, moving her hips until she was exactly where he wanted her.

She arched her back to make the most of the tight angle, not giving a rip that he chuckled at her sudden turnabout.

“More.” The embarrassing plea escaped before she could stop it. But he answered with a shallow thrust that made up for any mortification and more. The controlled, narrow space made deep thrusts impossible, but the friction was intense. Soon, too soon, Skye felt that tightening in her belly and reached down for his hand.

Touch
me.
The request was silent as she guided him to her, but he understood perfectly. And then her body sang as her nerves fizzled and her muscles clenched around him, milking her husband’s own climax until he went completely limp behind her.