Trey: Red, Hot & Blue, Book 1 (2 page)

The commander nodded his head. “I know, son. But we’ve picked up a lot of chatter on the lines lately. Things that make us believe he may have been compromised.”

“So we’re going in to get him. Right, sir?”

Trey could hear the panic in Jack’s voice.

The commander shook his head. “No, Gordon. We’re not.”

Jack stood. “What do you mean no?”

Trey cringed. Jack was upset and coming very close to crossing the line into insubordination.

The commander stood firm. “Sit down, soldier.”

Jack set his jaw and sat, but just barely, on the very edge of his seat.

When he was seated again, if not settled, the commander continued. “We’re going to give him some more time to make contact. In the meantime, I want the entire team on standby and ready to leave on thirty seconds notice if needed. Got it?”

The group nodded, all except for Jack whose eyes were glazed over. When Jack spoke, Trey could hear the strain in his voice. “Permission to be excused, sir.”

The commander nodded and Jack was out the door in a heartbeat.

Chapter Three

Carly took advantage of the slow night to get some much needed organizing and cleaning done around the bar and in the rear storeroom. There was only one table currently occupied and they had a full pitcher of beer and eyes only for each other. She had a feeling they wouldn’t even finish their pitcher before one or the other couldn’t take it anymore and they rushed home, or at least out to the parking lot, to have sex.

She was used to women coming in just to hook up with guys from the base. Women made up close to half her business so she really shouldn’t complain. Carly knew she shouldn’t judge either. If these women wanted to sleep with men they knew nothing about just because they were in the armed forces it was their choice. Just like it was her prerogative to choose not to date anyone who is, was or was even thinking about being in the military.

Too bad almost every man in her bar was military. That’s what she got for buying a bar directly next to a base. A daily buffet of off-limits and hotter-than-hell men who’d love you and leave you lonely in the end.

Glancing out the storeroom door so she could see the amorous couple, she tried not to think of how many of these guys had girlfriends or wives waiting at home while their tongues were down other women’s throats. Feeling a little bit sick to her stomach at the thought, she unloaded more of the case of cocktail olives onto the shelves when she heard a soft knock on the doorframe behind her.

Turning around, she saw who it was and smiled. “Hi. I’m surprised to see you back here so soon. After both of your pagers went off at the same time I figured I wouldn’t see you guys for awhile.”

He laughed, but it sounded far from happy. “Yeah. Me too.”

Putting the last one of the glass jars on the shelf, Carly completed her task. She glanced at the status of her other customers past… What was his name? She thought she’d heard him called Jack.

Jack. The joking, colorful Southern sidekick to the quiet but observant Trey Williams.

Carly pushed aside the image of Trey and his golden brown eyes a girl could get lost in and brown wavy hair just made for running your fingers through. That man was too tempting. Dark and brooding was exactly her type or had been once. Before her ex.

The man before her now was too damn cute himself as well as far too persistent in his attentions toward her. Southern gentlemen and their trademark drawl always had gotten to her, ever since she’d first seen
Gone with the Wind
as a kid. You didn’t get much more Southern than Jack, and he was pretty much the exact opposite of her ex which was tempting in itself.

She shook the thought from her brain. Nope. No more military men. In fact, recently there’d been no men at all. It was just safer that way.

Carly had a customer to serve, if she could wrestle her mind off the topic of her pitiful love life, or lack thereof. “I’m assuming you’re here for a drink.”

“No rush. I can wait until you’ve finished what you’re doing.”

Not even one “darlin’”? Interesting. “It’s okay. I’m done.”

Leaving the now-empty cardboard box in the storeroom, she led the way to the bar with Jack following sheepishly behind. When he didn’t immediately come out with some colorful comment or start flirting with her, she took a closer look. There was definitely something wrong. He was alone too, which he never was.

Could she ask where Trey was without it looking like she was overly interested? Which she definitely was not.

The suspense of wondering what was up with Jack and why Trey wasn’t with him was killing her. The only reason her unsatisfied curiosity didn’t actually kill her was because she gave in to it. Damn it. So much for self-restraint.

“You all alone tonight?” Carly could have kicked herself. She shouldn’t care what was up with them because she definitely was not interested in any man in the military. So why did she care where Trey was or what was wrong with Jack?

“Yup. All alone.” Jack drew in a deep breath and then let it out slowly.

“Beer?” She turned toward the beer cooler, but his voice stopped her.

“No beer tonight, darlin’. Bourbon. Double, straight up and keep ’em coming.”

Raising a brow, she poured a long double shot into a glass and then slid a basket full of pretzels in front of him. It wasn’t much, but at least it was something to soak up the alcohol. The problem was he made no move to touch the food. Instead, he downed the drink in one swallow and pushed the glass toward her. She hesitantly refilled it.

This was going to be bad. She could see that already. Something was very wrong. Wondering what the hell had happened, she couldn’t help but move on to considering once again where Trey might be. Why he wasn’t here? Every scenario she came up with wasn’t good.

If Jack, Trey and their friends were black ops, as she suspected from various clues she’d picked up from being around them for years, Trey could be dead. She’d never know for sure. He’d just disappear one day, after which his buddies would probably get drunk for one single night of silent grieving.

When Jack downed the second as quickly as the first and pushed the glass in her direction again, she feared for the worst.

She covered his hand with hers. “You might want to slow down a little bit.”

He gave her a crooked smile. “Don’t worry, baby cakes. My daddy was a drunk. It’s in my blood.” He pushed the glass closer to her and tapped it again. “Thanks for worrying though.”

Refilling it, she drew in a deep breath, beginning to get ill with worry. That was another reason to not date military men, their tendency to get shot at and blown up.

They’d only left her place an hour ago. How could something possibly have happened to Trey in that short a time and so close to base? It had to be something else. Meanwhile, she had more pressing problems than imagining what had befallen Trey. Jack was downing whiskey faster than she could pour it. She better think of something fast or she’d have one messy drunk on her hands, no matter what he said about being able to handle his liquor.

“Um, I have something I have to do in the storeroom. I’ll be right back.” If she disappeared for a bit and wasn’t there to refill his glass, he’d have to stop drinking.

“That’s fine, darlin’. Just leave the bottle.”

“Um, I can’t. Sorry. State liquor law.” She was making things up now, but it sounded good.

He smiled. “You’re just trying to slow me down. I’m trained to know what people are thinking, but if I don’t get drunk here I’ll just get drunk somewhere else. I can tell you I’d rather do it here with you than with some stranger.”

She sighed, her heart breaking for him. In spite of the constant flirting, he was a nice guy and he was obviously in pain. Reaching out again, she squeezed his hand. “Then do it for me, Jack. Slow down just a little bit.”

He looked at her. Really looked at her for the first time. Not at her boobs, not at her ass, but at her. Then his crooked smile appeared again. “You know my name.”

“Yes.” She nodded, happy she’d gotten it right.

“Huh. And I never bothered to learn yours. No wonder you don’t want to go out with me. I don’t blame you one bit.” He downed the third shot in one gulp.

Great. Now no matter what had been wrong with him when he’d first gotten here, his current problem was with her, compounded by the self-pity that alcohol enhanced so well.

She’d have to wait for him to go to the men’s room and then water down the bottle. Carly knew for a fact that
was against the law, but she was running out of options. She could cut him off, but she knew he would just go somewhere else and probably end up in a gutter or in jail. Neither option was a good one.

Watering down the bourbon was probably her best course of action. He was far enough gone he wouldn’t notice, but since he wasn’t drinking beer it may be a long while until he needed the men’s room.

Jack pushed his glass toward her one more time. Carly sighed and then got an idea. “How about a proposition?”

He raised a brow and then laughed. “I never thought I’d hear myself say this, but I’m not really in the mood for a proposition tonight, darlin’.”

Sadly, she returned his smile. “I can see that, Jack. It’s not that kind of proposition.”

“Good, because I would really kick myself in the morning if it was and I said no.”

At least he was talking to her. Talking was good. Less time for drinking.

“The deal is a truth for a drink. So for this next shot you have to tell me what’s got you in such a mood tonight you wouldn’t even accept a proposition from me.” She held the bottle in the air temptingly as bait.

“No can do, darlin’. You’ve been slinging beer behind this bar long enough to know everything is top secret ’round here, right down to what time the general takes a dump in the morning. Excuse my coarseness.”

She’d heard way worse than “dump” behind the bar, but at least now she knew it was something to do with his unit. If it were woman trouble or even a fight with Trey, it wouldn’t be top secret and he’d tell her.

He nudged the glass a bit with one finger. She filled it and he downed it. At this rate, he’d be passed out long before closing.

The couple in the booth finally made their move and groped their way out the door without even a backward glance. That afforded Carly an excuse to put the bottle safely away under the bar and go clean off their table. It would buy her a few minutes at least.

To her surprise, Jack followed and sprawled out on the recently vacated and still-warm booth bench.

“Thought I’d check things out over here for a bit.” He leaned his head against the red vinyl. “Mmm. Comfy.”

Poor guy. At least he was away from the bar and the bottle. She grabbed the pitcher and dirty glasses and brought them to the kitchen to be washed later. When she returned, she got a rag from behind the bar. As quietly as she could, she wiped down the table, hoping Jack would sleep off both the bad mood and the liquor.

“You don’t have to creep around, darlin’. I’m not sleeping.”

So much for her plan. Leaving the rag on the table, she sat next to him in the booth, thinking how bartending and babysitting were very much alike at times. She didn’t move when he let his head drop onto her shoulder. “Maybe you should get some sleep, Jack.”

His head rolled toward her. “I know you ever going out with me is about as likely as a bull giving birth, but I want you to know I appreciate you pretending to like me tonight.”

“I’m not pretending. You’re a good guy, Jack. What’s not to like?”

“Hmm. I’ll have to consider that when I’m a little more sober, but you being nice tonight means a lot. I’m really sorry I didn’t know what color your eyes are.”

“That’s all right. I don’t know what color yours are either.”

He laughed. “Then I guess we’re even.”

“I guess we are.” She smiled.

“Carly.” Jack’s voice was sounding sleepier and more Southern with every sentence.

“Yes, Jack.” She figured he had about five minutes left before he was out like a light.

He slid lower and laid his head in her lap. “I really do like you.”

She looked down at him. “I like you too. That’s not the issue. I don’t date guys in the military.”

“What if I weren’t in the military?” His lids drifted closed.

“But you are.” Lightly, she stroked his sandy-colored hair. It felt softer than she expected against her fingertips.

“Yeah, I am, but maybe just for tonight you could pretend I’m not.” He opened his eyes, which she noted were hazel and glassy with tears.

She had a feeling the tears weren’t over her, but caused by whatever had brought him here so upset in the first place. Because of that, she nodded. “All right, Jack. Just for tonight.”

Reaching up, he pulled her head down to his. He gave her the sweetest, gentlest kiss she’d ever been given by any man. Suddenly, she felt more than pity for him.

He cupped her face, ran his thumb over her lower lip and smiled. “That was nice.”

Carly swallowed hard. “Yeah, it was.”

“Have one dinner with me. In a public place. Nothing more. That’s all I’m asking. What d’ya say, darlin’?” His sad eyes showed a glimmer of hope.

Her heart twisted for him. “I’ll think about it.”

“A maybe is better than a no. Thank you.” A small smile curved his lips and his hand captured hers. He brought her fingers to his lips and kissed them gently before his eyelids drifted shut again. “I’m just gonna close my eyes and rest for a sec.”

“That’s fine, Jack. You go ahead.”

Almost instantly his breathing became deep and regular. Carly glanced down helplessly. A two-hundred-pound drunk and sleeping man had her pinned in the booth. Though it had been a really, really long time since a man had had her pinned anywhere, she’d need to get up eventually, especially if customers came in. Not to mention she had to get Jack home somehow and she didn’t even know where he lived.

Her glance caught on a square outline pressing through the denim of his jeans. Sliding her hand into his pocket, she reached for it with the tips of her fingers but couldn’t quite get what she hoped was a cell phone out of the tight confines. She pushed her hand deeper and got a handful of more than just phone.