Текст книги "Semper Fi"

Автор книги: Jane Harvey-Berrick

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Текущая страница: 8 (всего у книги 24 страниц)

“And the downside?”

“Dickhead officers…”

“And their wives?” Caro laughed.

“Well, yeah!”

“Would you say you love it?” she asked, cocking her head questioningly.

“I used to. I was good at something for the first time in my life. Being part of my Unit—those guys were solid. Being a terp, yeah, I like that okay when I’m on deployment, but being stuck in a fucking office all day…” I shook my head. “I’m a good Marine but a lousy desk POG.”

“POG?”

“Person Other than Grunt.”

Caro smiled. “Yes, you always preferred action to words, I seem to remember.”

I waggled my eyebrows at her suggestively, “If you’re offering, ma’am!”

Her mood shifted immediately, and I cursed myself for being so dumb. I wanted a Caro who was happy to hang out with me, not one who was uncomfortable when I flirted with her. Dumb fucking bootneck! I changed the subject quickly.

“How did you meet your friend Liz?”

She smiled at the memory. “We were the only women on a press tour of refugee camps in Darfur. We just bonded. She’s totally committed to what she does and is a complete professional. She’ll go anywhere, talk to anyone, and she’s never afraid to ignore the line we’re being sold by politicians and top brass military. She has an amazing nose for a story.” Caro smiled. “And she parties harder than you do. She’s a wonderful reporter, but she’s no respecter of authority.”

“Yeah, she’s pretty scary. I thought Crawley was going to piss his pants when she targeted in on him.”

“Aw, feeling a little threatened, were you?”

“Hell yeah! My balls were just about ready to curl up and hide.”

Caro shot me an amused look, but then stifled a yawn.

“Are you tired?”

“Yes, definitely ready to head for bed, Sebastian. To sleep.”

Her comment was pointed, but I wasn’t going to let it faze me.

“Okay, let’s see what we can find. There were a couple of streets I saw online that are mostly pensiones. Should we try one of those?”

When I’d planned the trip, I’d worked out that these small, family run hotels were cheap accommodation in the cities—I just hadn’t counted on it being festival time..

“Sounds good,” she said, yawning again.

I paid the bill and we headed out. I was reaching for her hand again when she stopped me, a serious look on her face.

“Sebastian, don’t get mad at me, and don’t read too much into this … but I’d really like to have separate rooms tonight. Just…”

That definitely wasn’t what I wanted to hear. How were we going to work through this if she wouldn’t let me close to her? But she’d asked, and I couldn’t say no.

“Whatever you need, Caro,” I said quietly.

She relaxed immediately, a relieved look on her face.

“Thank you.”

I was so frustrated, thinking of a million things I wanted to say, that I hadn’t realized we’d walked nearly half a mile toward the pensiones in complete silence.

“This is the street,” I muttered, pointing toward a long line of narrow townhouses.

The first two we tried were fully booked and the third could only offer a single room. If worst came to worst, Caro could take that room and I’d find an all-night bar to hang out in—or maybe she’d let me sleep on her floor?

“We could try going more upscale,” I suggested tiredly.

“Well, we have to walk along this street to get back to the main hotel area, so we may as well try a few more on the way,” Caro offered.

“Yeah, okay.”

At the fifth pensione, we struck gold. Sort of.

“I’m sorry, signora,” the owner said to Caro. “I have one room with two single beds, but that’s all. It’s the Festival, you see,” she said, gesturing helplessly. “You’re lucky—I had a cancellation.”

I was willing Caro to take it, but she turned to look at me doubtfully.

“Pajama party,” I mouthed.

She rolled her eyes and smiled. “Si, we’ll take the room. Grazie.”

Oo-rah!

Our room looked like it was last refurbished in the 1970s, but it was clean and had two beds pushed together, and that was all I cared about.

I threw myself down on the bed nearest to the window, smiling as it creaked slightly.

“Not as noisy as last night,” I said, raising one eyebrow.

“I don’t think that’s even possible,” Caro agreed mildly, ignoring my flirting.

I was honestly trying not to, but with her it just wasn’t possible. I counted to ten, then turned to our overnight bag and tossed her toiletry bag onto the other bed.

“Thanks for packing up my stuff,” I said, looking across at her. “I thought I’d probably seen the last of these shirts.”

“What a tragedy,” she said snidely. “You might have had to do something shocking, like buy t-shirts in different colors.”

I smiled, but didn’t reply. She was just pissed that she hadn’t gotten rid of me for the night. I was fucking ecstatic. All I needed was time, I was sure of it. Almost sure.

I pushed open the window and gazed down into the street, watching people enjoying the festival. I’d like to have been down there and take Caro dancing.

“Listen to that,” I teased her. “Sounds like being in Italy.”

She stood and listened for a moment, a small smile softening her expression of irritation. “Yes, it sounds … happy.”

Her words surprised me and I turned to look at her. “Are you happy, Caro?”

She nodded slowly. “Getting there.”

“Good.”

We stared at each other until she looked away, then left the room to take a shower.

I gazed out into the night, imagining a future where Caro and me were together. It was possible, wasn’t it? I’d re-upped two years ago, but other guys in the Marines made it work. I’d be in Afghanistan for the rest of the year anyway, maybe more. But we’d survive—we had to.

When Caro arrived back in the room, her hair was damp and she was wearing an oversize t-shirt and a pair of tiny shorts. Both the sight and scent of her fresh from the shower made my mouth water, but I didn’t want to scare her off.

“Back in a minute, baby,” I said, winking at her.

The shower was cold, which was probably a good thing, helping to deflate my eager dick. Bastard was like a guided missile the way it aimed at Caro 24/7. I can’t say the aching cock and blue balls were doing me any favors.

I tried to ignore everything below my waist.

“You doing your writing?” I asked, as I walked back into the room.

She was sitting on her bed Indian style and typing on her laptop.

“No, just catching up with my girlfriends.”

She’d told me a little about her New York friends while we were at dinner.

“Did you tell them about me?”

“I told them I was traveling through Italy with an old friend.”

Not what I was hoping to hear. Was I still her dirty little secret? The thought pissed me the hell off.

“So, what do you want to do tomorrow?” I asked, trying to find something to talk about that wouldn’t irritate either of us. “Look at more old buildings?” Or I could just slit my throat now and save dying of boredom.

Caro smiled, her expression amused. “Whatever. This is all a bonus anyway. Where would you like to go?”

“There’re a couple of surf spots I’d like to check out, if you don’t mind,” I suggested hopefully.

“I don’t mind, Sebastian. I could use some beach time—sleeping in the sun sounds perfect about now.”

Relief.

“Okay, cool! The surf isn’t great in the Med, but there are a few breaks that look like they might be rideable.”

I undressed quickly down to my skivvies, then jumped onto my bed, laying back with my arms behind my head, smiling across at her.

“Are you going to tuck me in?” I asked.

Caro shook her head and laughed. “I think you’re old enough and ugly enough to do that yourself.”

“Ugly?”

“Hideous. I can hardly bear to look at you.”

“You could close your eyes,” I offered.

“I could, Sebastian, but I might get the urge to peek.

Damn, she was turning me on. In fact the way she looked in her sleep shirt was making me hard. Again.

“Well, can I get a goodnight kiss?”

“Sure. I’ll ask Signora Battelli if she’s available.”

Fuck no! The pensione’s owner was at least seventy and must weigh 300 pounds. “I’ve never kissed a woman with a mustache.”

“First time for everything, Sebastian,” she laughed.

“Please, Caro,” I begged. “I’ll be good. Promise.”

“Hmm, I’ve heard your promises before.”

I gave her my best puppy dog eyes. They always used to work on her.

“Okay, one kiss. But that’s all!”

Fuck, yeah!

She stowed her laptop back in its bag and sat on my bed, allowing me to pull her down into a hug. She laid her head on my chest while my hands stroked up and down her back.

“We’re okay, aren’t we, Caro?” I asked quietly, seriously.

“Getting there,” she said softly.

Then she wriggled free and planted a quick kiss on my lips.

“Good night, Marine,” she said as she turned off her bedside light.

“Night, boss.”

I listened to her even breathing telling me that she was asleep. I rolled onto my stomach and pushed my hands under the pillow. It was like a dream for me to be with her again. I’d really fucked things up last night, letting a decade of bitterness and resentment ruin our time together. I saw a future with her, and I hoped that she did, too. I had 11 days of leave left to prove I was worth it.

But she was a successful journalist, and I’d be some unemployed grunt with a few language skills that weren’t going to be of much fucking use back in the US. I wouldn’t be able to get a job as a translator because I was shit at reading Arabic, let alone the Pashto alphabet. I was a good terp, but that wasn’t going to get me far. Maybe I could be a fitness instructor personal trainer—it wouldn’t take much to get those qualifications, and I thought the GI Bill would be good for that. I wondered if…

Suddenly, Caro cried out, scaring the shit out of me as she thrashed around, tangling the sheets around her.

I bolted out of bed, grabbing her shoulders and shaking her gently.

“Caro, wake up!”

She sat up quickly, wide-eyed and trembling.

“Fuck, Caro! Another nightmare?”

She nodded silently, tremors running through her whole body.

“Come here, baby.”

My heart hurt seeing her so scared when she was usually so strong. I wrapped my arms around her, pulling her in tightly so she was resting against my chest.

“What was it about, baby?” I asked quietly.

She shook her head. “Just a nightmare.”

“You can tell me anything, Caro.”

There was no reply, and much as it killed me not to know what was upsetting her, I couldn’t force her either. I held her in my arms, protecting her with my body, hoping that she knew I’d always keep her safe.

After a few minutes, her heart rate returned to normal.

“Scoot over,” I whispered. “I’ll just stay till you go back to sleep.”

She didn’t fight me this time, instead rolling over so there was room for me.

“Thank you,” she murmured.

I slid down next to her, my chest to her back, and pulled her in close. And then we slept.

I woke up to Caro lightly stroking my arms where they were still wrapped around her.

I stretched out slowly, enjoying the feel of her body next to mine. I rubbed my eyes and smiled at her, happy to have her next to me, although I’d rather have had her under me.

“Wow, I’ve got this beautiful woman in my bed. I really like this dream.”

“Actually, Sebastian,” she sniffed, trying to hide her amusement, “you’re in my bed.”

“Oh, yeah. You must be one of those fast women I heard about at boot camp.”

“Hmm, well, I think that lecture was supposed to warn you off them.”

“Oh, I guess I didn’t hear it right. Explains why I didn’t get into Officer Candidate School.”

She looked at me closely.

“Did you try?”

“Nah, not really. Not my thing. I took some college classes for a while, but then…” I knew you weren’t coming back, so I gave up caring. “I was already fucking around. Guess I pissed off the wrong people.”

“You’d make a good officer, Sebastian,” she said seriously. “Maybe you should think about it.”

Did that mean she wanted me to stay in the Marines? I shrugged. “I’m a Warrant Officer—highest ranking for noncoms.” Then I grinned at her sheepishly. “Yeah, you know that stuff. Sorry. I did get asked to join the Navy SEALs, though.”

“Really?” she said, her face lighting up. “That’s great! I mean, that’s a real honor, isn’t it? You’d like that—all that super-macho stuff.”

I smiled at her description and ran a finger along her arm. “I turned them down.”

Her jaw dropped open and she looked amazed. “Why?”

“Caro, there’s no way I’d join the same service that my father is in. Fuck that! Can you imagine if we ended up at the same Base?” My voice started getting louder as the old anger surged through me. “I’d end up killing the bastard.”

“Shh,” she said, resting a finger on my lips. “We’re in Italy; it’s a beautiful day, and we’re going to go and find some waves for you to surf.”

I took a deep breath and calmed the fuck down.

“Okay,” I said, letting my hand drift down her thigh, until I was tugging at the material of her panties. “You know what would make this day even better?” I asked.

“Oh no, Sebastian,” she said, shoving my hand away. “I’m not falling for that. I’m going to take a shower, and you’d better have some damn clothes on by the time I get back.”

She jumped out of bed, then stomped around the room picking out a clean shirt to wear. She was so cute when she was mad.

“Are you sure?” I asked, letting my hand disappear under the sheets as my cock started to throb.

She muttered something under her breath, threw me a look that should have scorched my eyeballs, and slammed the door as she left the room. I lay there, lazily stroking myself, imagining it was her hands on my dick, her fingers working the sensitive head. Desire and need spiked along my shaft almost immediately, and I groaned as a long stream of cum landed on my stomach. It was her fault I was so damn horny.

On deployment, most of us lived like monks. Unless you got lucky with one of the women working in the Motor T—the vehicle shop. I preferred not to hit on female Marines. Apart from anything else, I didn’t shit on my own doorstep. You fucked your CO’s wife, c’mon Seb.

I cleaned off as best I could, then pulled on a pair of jeans, waiting for my turn in the shower.

Caro’s temper didn’t seem to have improved as she stormed back into the room.

“You shouldn’t wander around like that,” she chided, trying not to look at my bare chest. “You’ll give Signora Battelli a coronary.”

She wasn’t fooling me. Looked like my tactics were working. I gave her a grin then headed out for my shower. I planned on having Caro back in my bed tonight.

When I strolled back, she was looking at a blog on surfing in Italy. Even though she was still punishing me by not fucking, she hadn’t stopped caring about me or what I might like to do on vacation. God, I loved this woman.

“Whatcha find?” I asked, standing behind her as she studied the screen on her laptop.

“We seem to be in between surf spots here, but about 30 miles away, there’s a place that looks like it might be okay. There’s a big campsite there and it says they rent out boards, so it seems like a good bet. Want to try it?”

“I’ll try anything with you, baby.”

“Sebastian, focus,” she huffed out, pointing at the map then folding her arms.

“Sure, baby,” I said, winking at her. “I just need to fill up the gas tank, but otherwise we’re good to go.”

I wrapped my hands over her shoulders and planted a quick kiss in her hair.

“Come on then, Hunter,” she snorted, reaching into our bag and throwing me a t-shirt. “Let’s go see what Signora Battelli has got us for breakfast.”

When we walked into the dining area and saw the table covered with mouth-watering food, my eyes widened, and I had a hard time not drooling: fresh fruit, warm bread, sweet rolls, cereal, yogurts, Italian cheese, salamis and cold meat. Fuckin’ A!

Signora Battelli probably hadn’t counted on having a Devil Dog at her table, and I made three trips to the buffet before I finally called quits.

It hadn’t escaped my attention that a couple of American girls were sitting at the table next to us. They’d been eye-fucking me every time I’d gone to get more food. Once I might have been interested, but why go out for burgers when you’ve got steak at home?

One of the girls was asking Signora Battelli questions about cooking pasta.

“But how much should I give guests at a meal?” she asked. “How will I know how much to buy back home?”

“Young woman,” said Signora Battelli, resting her pudgy hands on her enormous stomach. “You buy a half pound of fresh pasta per person … except for my son: he eats one pound of pasta!”

I wondered if the son was another fat fucker who ate all the pies. I could eat anything I wanted and I was in the best shape of my life. Going into a warzone was very fucking incentivizing.

But then the girls started flirting with me in front of Caro. I would have told them off, but I knew Caro wouldn’t like it. So I answered politely, tolerating but not encouraging them.

“I’ve never ridden a motor-sickle,” said the one called Lydia.

“Well, I’m sure you’ll enjoy it when you get the chance,” I replied then stood up, having reached my limit of tolerance for their amateurish flirting. I held out my hand to Caro impatiently.

“Come on, baby.”

She took my hand, a huge smile on her face, and I couldn’t resist bringing her fingers to my lips and kissing the inside of her narrow wrist.

Her smile got even wider, and there was something in her eyes that I hadn’t seen before.

“What?” I asked, curious about what she was thinking.

“Sometimes you can be very sweet.”

Her words were like a punch in the gut and I couldn’t look away from her. Ask any of the guys that I’d trained with or fought with and ‘sweet’ is not a word they’d use to describe me. But to hear it from her for the first time in ten years, all the walls I’d built around me crumbled.

“Tesoro, what did I say?” she whispered, her forehead creasing with concern as I continued to stare at her.

I looked into her eyes, so she could see the truth of my words.

“I love you, Caro, so much. I haven’t changed how I feel. I still love you—I’ve always loved you. It’s only ever been you.”

I stopped breathing as she gazed back at me, her lips moving wordlessly. And then she spoke.

“I love you, too, Sebastian. More than you’ll ever know.”

That was all I needed to hear.

I leaned down and trapped her lips with mine, kissing her softly and sweetly because I wanted so badly to mash my mouth against hers, bruising her lips, showing the world that she was mine. Maybe that would come later, but now I needed to be the man she thought I was—the man I could be, for her.

I felt everything. I felt the moment when she let herself believe in me, in our fierce love that a decade apart hadn’t been able to kill; the moment she believed in herself, and everything that I knew she felt, too; and the moment that my heart knew I’d spend the rest of my life with this woman … this amazing, brave, fearless, loving woman.

“You mean everything to me, Caro,” I whispered, my voice raw with emotion.

I knew she could feel the weight of my words.

“You’re so brave, tesoro,” she said simply. “You’ve never been afraid to love.”

I smiled because she was so wrong. I was fucking terrified of loving her again—but I was past caring.

“That’s because I learned from you, Caro.”

She shook her head in denial.

“It’s true,” I said gently.

She sighed and pulled me a little tighter against her, and that was just fine with me.

We stood there until I became aware that we were the center of attention, the other diners staring at us, as well as Signora Battelli.

I rubbed Caro’s arm and stood up straight.

“I guess we’d better get going before the signora starts vacuuming around us,” I murmured, my lips still against the smooth skin of her neck.

She smiled up at me, her eyes so full of love that she cracked me wide open.

“Okay,” she said.

We walked back to our room in a silence that was full of meaning as I squeezed her soft hand, needing that small physical connection.

“I can’t stop smiling,” she confessed. “I think I’ve pulled a muscle in my mouth.”

“I know what you mean,” I laughed. “Although I’ve got some ideas about how you could do that for real later.”

She slapped my arm.

“You don’t change, do you, Hunter!”

I threw myself back on the bed and grinned up at her.

“Do you want me to change?” I asked, wondering for real what her answer would be.

Women always tried to change you, even when they said they wouldn’t. But Caro just laughed.

“Oh, you could do with a bit of polish here and there, but otherwise, no, you’ll do.”

“I’d like you to polish me right now,” I said, arching my hips off of the bed suggestively.

“Well, I’d love to oblige,” she smirked, “but Signora Battelli is going to be knocking on our door in about two minutes.”

“We could make it quick.”

“Oh no, I want to take my time.”

“How much time?” I asked as my dick hardened in my pants for the third time this morning.

Her dark eyes sparkled with humor and something else … desire?

“Hours, possibly days … whole months even,” she murmured, her eyes locked on mine.

I groaned and closed my eyes, images of her naked in my bed, eating meals off of her perfect, olive skin. “Months?”

“Years,” she said softly. “A lifetime.”

My eyes snapped open and I sat up quickly, my heart beating too fast. “Do you mean it, Caro, a lifetime?”

Her eyes were serious as she replied.

“Yes.”

I closed my eyes again, breathing in deeply. When I looked up, a huge smile stretched across my face.

“Okay,” I said, because the words I wanted to say were too big.