Once and For All: An American Valor Novel (18 page)

“Wouldn’t hurt to ask.”

Bree wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her body close to his. She whispered her thanks and placed a soft kiss to his lips. His hands skimmed down the back of her T-shirt until he reached bare flesh. Cupping the soft swells of her ass, he gave a quick squeeze then lifted. He smiled when she instinctively wrapped her legs around his waist, locking her ankles behind him.

“Thank you for the brownie,” he said then walked his wife back to the bedroom.

Chapter Nineteen

B
REE ROLLED ONTO
her stomach and pulled the pillow over her head, pressing it tighter to her ears in hopes of drowning out the sounds of the helicopters flying overhead. She should have followed the news reporter’s advice and purchased earplugs, but she didn’t want to use them out of fear of missing a knock at the door or her phone ringing. After all, her husband was out there somewhere in the darkness, jumping out of airplanes and attacking a fictional enemy. Although it was just a training exercise, the risks were very real.

In the past month alone, three men had died during training exercises. Two airmen died when their plane crashed off the Florida coast. The other, a soldier in Arizona, died when his parachute failed.

With each news report her anxiety reached new heights despite Danny’s assurances. Again and again he would tell her, “This is what we do. We train and train and train to avoid mistakes. Sometimes accidents happen, but in regiment those accidents are rare.”

So she smiled and nodded in understanding, trying to pretend everything was okay. Meanwhile, her insides were twisted into knots.

She wondered how military wives handled the stress day in and day out while their loved ones fought a war far from home. Did they trick themselves into believing their husbands were off on a business trip? That the most dangerous decision they faced was whether or not to submit that $200 bar tab with their expense report?

Once the nighttime invasion of Savannah was complete, she finally fell into a deep sleep, only to be woken again a couple hours later. She and Danny traded only a few text messages before they signed off, but still the alarm clock sounded way too soon. For the first time in five weeks, she wished she didn’t have a job to go to. Of course, she quickly remembered what it was like to wake every morning and know that it wasn’t going to be any different than the day before. Or the day before that one. And so on and so on . . .

She hefted herself into the Tahoe, careful to not spill coffee down the front of her freshly pressed shirt. Yes, she was a little overdressed, considering she never left Marie’s house and rarely came face-to-face with another adult aside from the UPS man. But ironing a shirt and wearing tailored pants made it feel more like a real job than just a part-time assistant slash babysitter.

As she navigated her way through the streets of Savannah without the use of GPS, she was surprised at how quickly she’d settled in. Here she was driving around in Danny’s truck like she owned the thing, feeling more and more like one half of a real couple. Depending on how late he got home, they’d spend the evening watching either baseball or a movie. Occasionally, they went out to eat. And on the weekends they’d do the tourist thing and explore old forts and wildlife preserves, places even Danny hadn’t visited in his ten years living here.

True to his word, marrying Danny had provided her life with new meaning and purpose. He’d rescued her from the rut, just as promised. Although it was nice to settle in, she needed to focus on the long-term and made a mental note to contact a few of her former coworkers to see if they knew of any jobs coming down the pike.

Like every other day, she arrived at Ben and Marie’s a little before nine. No longer did she bother to ring the doorbell. Instead, she let herself in the house just as Marie instructed, so she wasn’t left standing on the front porch in the event Marie was busy upstairs with Hannah. Bree shouted a quick hello and before she could even close the front door, Marie came racing downstairs, looking frazzled.

“Thank God you’re early.” Bree followed a hurried Marie through the living room and into the kitchen. “There’s been a major water leak at the Belliveaus’ house and of course their hand-scraped hardwood floors were just installed yesterday. I need to get over there and assess the damage for myself. For now if you could just keep an eye on—” Marie stopped short and swore under her breath.

In the high chair sat a giggling Hannah, her face, hair and hands coated in a thick pink substance. Yogurt, maybe? The dogs gathered at her feet, jumping and dashing around as she chucked tiny handfuls of Cheerios in their direction.

The phone in Marie’s hand buzzed once again, but instead of answering she laid it upon the kitchen island and grabbed a small broom and dustpan from under the sink. Before she could begin cleaning up, her phone was buzzing again. Clearly, someone was quite impatient this morning.

“Go do what you need to do. I can handle this,” Bree said, holding out her hands in silent request for the broom and dustpan.

“I didn’t hire you to be a housekeeper.”

“Doesn’t matter. You hired me to help you out around here. I’m helping out.”

“But this is a huge mess. Hannah’s a huge mess. And you’re so nicely dressed.”

They both looked over at the little girl who continued to giggle and clap her hands as the dogs bounced around her. “I need to give her a bath before I go.”

“I can get it. Really. I’ll wash. Hannah will wash. It’ll be just fine.”

“At least change your clothes first. There’s a load of T-shirts and shorts in the dryer. No sense in ruining your nice clothes.” Reluctantly, Marie handed over the broom and dustpan. “I don’t know how I’ll repay you.”

Bree waved her off. “Stop worrying and get going.”

After squashing a few more protests, Marie was finally out the door, leaving Bree to assess the damage. Hannah stared at her with wide brown eyes as if she just realized her momma had left the building, and Bree braced herself for the tears that surely would come. Instead, the baby smiled again and threw another handful of cereal at her waiting crowd.

The kitchen was a disaster. Breakfast dishes were piled in the sink. A gross mix of sticky stuff and pet hair coated the floor around the high chair. But there was a smiling child in the middle of it all, and the mess no longer mattered as much.

Just as Marie had said, Bree found an assortment of T-shirts to change into, but only one pair of skimpy black running shorts in the entire load. They were identical to the ones Danny wore with 1st Batt’s scroll on the left leg that looked sexy as hell on him, but were so short and so thin they were damn near indecent.

A plastic bowl clattered on the kitchen tile, followed by an impatient scream. Sounded like someone had had her fill of fun so Bree quickly changed her clothes and hightailed it to the kitchen. After several minutes of struggling with the high chair, she finally managed to remove the tray and give Hannah an initial wipe-down. The dogs had done a pretty good job with the floor cleanup, so mopping could wait.

They headed upstairs where she searched the bathroom to find the necessities as the tub filled. Like most teenage girls, Bree had a few babysitting jobs here and there, so she wasn’t completely inept. But still, it’d been nearly fifteen years since she’d bathed an infant, and she was definitely out of practice.

“Ready for this?”

Hannah stared up at her with huge brown eyes, her little tongue thrusting against her lips. What a sticky, adorable mess she was. So cute it made Bree’s chest ache.

Bath time took longer than expected. Mainly because Bree didn’t have the heart to end Hannah’s fun. Instead, she spent the next half hour watching Hannah splash and play and babble nonsense at her collection of miniature rubber ducks.

The dull ache in her chest transitioned into a painful throb. Holding someone else’s child would be the closest she’d ever come to motherhood. She’d never have a baby grow inside her, feel it turn and kick and let its demand for cupcakes or ice cream be known. She’d never hear a small voice call out for her in the middle of the night when they were scared and needing to be held. She’d never hang a dozen stockings over the fireplace and chase children back to their rooms because they wanted a peek at Santa.

For months her head told her heart that a life without children would be even better. That she’d have the freedom to go where she wanted, when she wanted. No responsibilities to tie her down. Her life was her own and she could do with it what she pleased.

But now that she held this little bundle of sweet smells and soft skin and baby’s breath in her arms, her heart knew she was a damn liar. A spontaneous trip to the Bahamas or nice furniture or more disposable income would never fill the hole left behind when the doctors took her second ovary along with her uterus.

“Is everything okay?”

She’d been so lost inside her own misery and hadn’t heard Marie return home. Bree swiped the hot tears from her cheeks and quickly rose from the rocking chair, handing a sleeping Hannah off to her mother.

“Bree.”

“I’m okay. Just really tired. I can’t sleep with those damn helicopters buzzing around all night.”

“Are you sure that’s all it is?”

“I’m sure. How’s the Belliveau house?”

“Fine. There was a leak from a new fixture in the kitchen, but it was tiny. Not the flood it was described to be,” she said, laying Hannah in her crib and covering her with a blanket. “Why don’t you go home and try to get some rest.”

“But what about—”

“I can handle things from here on out now that crisis has been averted. So go on.” Marie waved her hand, shooing her from the room. “Go get some sleep before the sun goes down and those men of ours start invading the damn town again. As a matter of fact, I might do the very same.”

Maybe Marie was right. An afternoon nap might be the very thing she needed to shake the funk she was in. Bree gathered Hannah’s bath towels and yogurt-covered pj’s and headed downstairs for the laundry room. After changing back into her own clothes, she grabbed her handbag from the counter.

“I’ll see you in the morning,” she said to Marie as she passed by her on the way out.

“All right. And Bree—”

After fishing her car keys out from the bottom of her purse, she turned to look back at her friend.

“Just so you know, I cried at the drop of a hat with each of my kids. Any chances you’re pregnant?” The look on Marie’s face was so hopeful the tears were an indicator of something to celebrate.

She mustered the best smile she could under the circumstances. “Afraid not,” she said, stopping in the doorway. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

Bree closed the front door behind her and could only hope that tomorrow things would be better.

G
OD, HOW HE
loved airfield seizure training. It was, after all, the 75th’s specialty. Need to topple some foreign government? First things first: send in the Rangers to parachute behind enemy lines in the dark of night and take over their airfields. Which was made all the more interesting if the assholes’ Spidey-senses started to twinge and they decided to park every damn vehicle they could find on the runways to prevent the military planes from landing. Like that would stop them from coming anyway. He could still remember the day when he found out hot-wiring cars would become an essential part of his military training.

Then there were the night jumps out of a C–17 while loaded down with a shit ton of equipment. For many of the guys, the airborne component was a necessary evil. Despite their fear of heights, they sucked it up and jumped because all the best jobs in the military required it. But for him, the sweet build of anticipation made his insides tingle from the moment he hooked on to the static line and made his way to the door, followed by a brief moment of terror when he bailed out into the pitch-black sky. Then, once his parachute was fully opened and untangled, a sense of peace washed over him as he floated to earth.

The only thing he didn’t like—the landings. Controlled crash would be more accurate. And if there was a call for a medic through the headset, well then, that sucked. Because it meant someone had likely jacked an ankle or knee if not something worse. But if you were one of the lucky ones who made it to your feet, that was when the real fun began with explosions and gunfire and dirt bikes racing around and every fucking kind of aircraft imaginable circling the skies above you.

Goddamn, he loved his job.

In the past three days he’d managed maybe seven hours of sleep. And just like every other guy in 1st Batt when they’d go op-tempo, he’d survived on three things: adrenaline, caffeine, and Copenhagen.

As he made his way to the mess hall along with the other guys for lunch, he saw his brother for the first time all week. He sped up to catch him. “Any word on Rodriguez?” His fellow squad leader had been one of the unfortunate ones the night before when his left foot found a hole in the ground upon landing and his ankle rolled over on him.

“Not yet. Sent him for an MRI. Best guess is an ATFL tear.”

“Damn. Surgery?”

“Nothing broken but it looked pretty nasty. I’d be surprised if he didn’t have surgery.”

Which meant Rodriguez would be out of commission not just weeks, but likely months, until his rehab was complete. Looked like Osweiler could get his first shot as squad leader sooner than he expected.

“How does Bree like her new oncologist?”

The question took Danny by complete surprise. He knew she’d have follow-ups. They’d discussed that much. But when he promised not to hover, he honestly thought she’d at least keep him in the loop without requiring him to press the issue. Obviously not. And yet, Michael was once again in the know.

He schooled his expression as best he could. “We haven’t had the chance to really talk this week. Just a text message here and there.”

Michael’s eyes narrowed as if he knew damn well Danny was lying to him. Thankfully, his cell phone buzzed in his pocket, distracting him for the moment. “I’m needed in the clinic,” Michael said as he read the screen. He slapped Danny on the back of his shoulder as he headed off. “I’ll catch up with you later.”

“Sure thing.”

He watched his brother walk away as he stood there feeling as if he’d just been smacked upside the head with a two-by-four.

She’d promised. Bree had looked him in the eye and promised to keep him informed, whether there was any news, good or bad.

For the past five weeks they’d been sharing not only a bed, but their lives together, too. He’d made a point to be open and honest with her, to answer all of her questions. He’d explained why he’d left without saying goodbye ten years before and why he didn’t like returning home to Myrtle Beach. To regain her trust, to make himself worthy of her, he knew he had to be completely forthcoming. So it grated to learn she hadn’t done the same. And to pour salt into an old wound, she’d entrusted her secrets to his brother instead.