21 Marine Salute: 21 Always a Marine Tales (61 page)

“Does it ever bother you?” He shifted, sitting so he could rest an arm along the back of the seat and look at her. “Spending so much time in a battle zone like that and then coming home to this?”

“Sometimes.” Her bare shoulders lifted in a shrug. “But you have to remember this is what we’re fighting for—not a limousine ride, obviously—but the right to achieve your dreams. To be you, to have fantastic ideas and turn them into a fortune, or to be my mom who hosts her tea parties and luncheons and receptions for a hundred different causes and be obsessed with shoes. It’s not easy, but I didn’t sign up for easy.”

“You okay?” A distant air of melancholy seemed to hover around her.

“Yeah, I was—I was thinking about my mom. She said something when I was getting ready and it’s—it’s playing a loop in the back of my mind. Sorry.” A tight smile dragged at the corners of her mouth.

Going with his gut, he reached over and caught her right hand in his and interlaced his fingers. “So talk it out. I’m really good at listening.”

Surprise creased her brow then she grimaced. “It might be a little heavy for first date conversation.”

“Okay, then let’s call it an old friend’s conversation while we’re in the car and when we get there, we can pretend we’re on our way to prom, play it up and forget about everything else.” Hell, they could forget about the reunion entirely if she wanted. He preferred to erase the shadows in her eyes.

“Deal.” She squeezed his hand. “I give my mom a lot of crap because she was obsessed with the beauty queen thing and dresses and shoes, and she’s always after me about my appearance. The other day, she said something about me getting out of the Marines while I still had my looks. It pissed me right the hell off. But tonight she asked me to give her a call if I wasn’t coming home because she worries.”

“And maybe all her comments about you getting out are more because she worries about you being in danger?” He hated the idea of her being over there, facing potential fire. The reports of casualties and injuries didn’t seem to have the impact they once did, not when they came every day. The reality turned into the second donkey kick of the day. He didn’t blame her mother for worrying.

“I’m a bad daughter.” She castigated herself in word and tone.

“No, you’re not. My mom would say that parents worry—period. They worry when we learn to walk, when we go to school, when we cross a street: it’s how it goes. She loves you. I’m thinking that it’s a good thing for you to know rather than resenting the way she shows it.”

“Does it sound completely stupid that I was surprised she felt that way?”

Knowing everyone had self-worth issues at some point and time or another and seeing someone as amazing as Mary express them were two completely different things. “No. And I don’t say that lightly. I’ve learned that we don’t always value about ourselves what others value in us. Parents are tough because they’re supposed to love us, but they’re people so they don’t always show it well. Case in point—” He took a deep breath.
In for a penny, in for a pound
. “I totally had a thing for you in high school.”

Bracing himself, he tossed that kernel of information onto the fire.

“Seriously?” She blinked slowly and studied him, as if seeking the truth in his expression.

“Swear to God. I wanted to ask you out a hundred different times. But every time I opened my mouth to do it—I couldn’t. I didn’t know how to say, ‘Hey Mary, want to get a cup of coffee? And you know you’re really smart, want to come check out this game I designed?’” Tracing the line between her thumb and forefinger with his thumb, he concentrated on that contact and not the sinking gut feeling he’d given into when he was a teen.

“I’m not going to lie and say I would have gone out with you.” The blatant honesty drew his gaze up. “But I didn’t date anyone. Little known fact about Mary Phillips—the jocks thought I was a tease and the others thought I believed myself better than anyone else.”

“I never saw you act that way.” He frowned. “Did your parents not let you date?”

“No, my mother wanted me to meet a nice boy—preferably one who would get a medical or law degree and move me into a big house just down the street from her. But I wanted—I wanted more. I wanted to get out of high school and Carlysle and the pageant circuit. It took going Marine to make me grow up and realize that what I really wanted was to be me, and I didn’t think I could be in high school.” She bumped his shoulder. “Except with you. I didn’t have to pretend when I was with you. So, maybe I would have broken my rule for you.”

“Kind of glad you didn’t.” Self-realization was a quirky thing; it always hit when a body least expected it.

The limo swung into the car port of The Grand Hotel. Mary glanced out the window and then back to him. “Before we dive into our Back to the Future prom date—why are you glad I didn’t?”

“I lacked the confidence to follow through in high school.” The driver opened the door and Kyle slid out first and held out his hand to her. She glided out as graceful and elegant as any ballet dancer. He kissed her fingers once and then tucked them into the crook of his arm.

“Does that mean I might get lucky on this date?” She murmured against his ear.

He grinned. “I might let you get to second base, if you play your cards right.”

She’d laughed away her earlier melancholy by the time they walked through the main doors. He wished he could say the same of his apprehension for the evening.

The party was in full swing by the time they signed in with the welcome committee and picked up their name tags. She refused to stick a pin in her mother’s pretty dress so Kyle volunteered to wear both name tags.

“And if they ask, I’ll tell them I got a sex change.” He winked, making her laugh. He probably would, too. His confession in the car surprised the hell out of her and left her a little wistful for what might have been.
Realistically, you would have had a couple of dates and then left him for the Marines anyway
.

The practical side of her nature couldn’t be less interested in making excuses or speculating on the past. The ballroom was done up in black and silver with streamers and balloons everywhere. Kyle surprised her by navigating right over to the decorated arch and posing for a couple of photographs. Waiters in white suits carried trays of champagne flutes, and he snagged two for them and then they were in the crowd.

“It’s so great to see you!” Mimi, former student body president-turned aide to a city councilman, oozed earnestness when shaking their hands.

“Babe, you turned into a real looker.” The very-married Chad Murray, former prom king, point guard for the basketball team and the owner of a car dealership in Fresno, was already well on his way to being blitzed.

“I totally bought every one of your games.” Vapid little Marcy Cates cooed at Kyle. “You think maybe we could get a drink and talk Code One Red?”

Poor Kyle seemed completely flummoxed, and Mary threaded her arm through his and gave little Marcy a hard stare. “I’m sorry, his dance card is full for the foreseeable future. Ta ta.” She gave him a light tug and they were off. She bypassed the next set of land sharks and they glided out onto the dance floor. “Kyle is the hot guy on campus now. I shall have to keep my wary eye out for possible ambush.”

He snorted. “I’m not worried.”

She looped her arms around his neck and drifted to a song she barely recognized. “No?”

“Hell no.” He leaned in close and murmured. “I have a Combat Barbie on my arm. She can kill them and not even break a nail doing it.”

Mary gaped, speechless, before throwing her head back and laughing. “I will so get you back for that.”

“Challenge accepted.” He winked and spun her around the floor. “Besides, I didn’t design the game she mentioned. That’s an EarthBWare product. Not a Kyle Stewart.”

“Tsk tsk. Shot down in flames by flubbing the nerd. However will Marcy survive?” Not that she cared.

“Don’t know. Don’t care. Heads up—Jones Briggs just walked in.” He maneuvered them around another pair of swaying couples and turned so she could survey.

Jones Briggs. NFL linebacker, MVP three years running and all around son of a bitch in school. He studied the crowd, sweeping his gaze back and forth across it—passing right over them. Her relief was short lived however when he zeroed in on her and Kyle and made a beeline for them.

Would the joy ever end
?

“And he’s coming this way.” She gave Kyle’s shoulder a squeeze and considered putting herself right between the two men. She knew the kind of hell the jerk had heaped on him in school. Rites of passage be damned, it seemed like the man had made it his mission in life to treat Kyle like crap.

Linebacker or not, she’d dropped Marines far bigger—and better—than him. On the other hand, she didn’t want Kyle to think she didn’t believe he could handle himself. So she chose her position carefully, taking up right at his side.

The football player arrived, gave them a quick, hard grin and stuck his hand out. Kyle didn’t show an ounce of reluctance in taking the offered handshake.

“Jones. Congrats on winning MVP again.” Smooth as silk and utterly polite, he didn’t even twitch delivering the compliment.

“Thanks. It’s good to see you, man and no hard feelings, you know?” Suddenly, Jones seemed uncomfortable and took a step back. “Probably not the time and the place. But I’m sorry for all the crap I gave you in school. I had some anger management issues. I got it together now and one of my assignments is making amends. I’m sorry.”

“No problem, man. It’s in the past. Let’s leave it there.” An uncomfortable silence stretched out between them and Jones gave them another nod and walked away faster than he’d approached.

“Okay. That was weird.” Mary stared after him.

“Nah. He rated MVP, but he’s got issues and I heard his team is considering trading him—which could mean a lucrative new contract or a move to a less successful team. Apparently his ‘anger management’ issues cause problems in the locker room, and the coaches ordered him into therapy.”

“Well, check you out knowing all the dirt.”

They wandered away from the dance floor, sharing polite nods here and there.

“Nah, I did my homework after we agreed to come here.” He rubbed a hand against the back of his neck. “Besides, Jones’ issues are all over the sports news network. I actually thought he wanted to come over and ask you for a dance.”

“No, I’m not the one everyone is paying attention to tonight.” She watched a cluster of girls she vaguely recognized from Lit class murmuring excitedly to each other and gesturing at Kyle. “Of course, if they overstep, I’ll make sure they notice.”

He grinned. “How much longer do we have to endure this torture?”

She mimed looking at her watch. “Five minutes?”

“Sold.”

It took them almost thirty minutes to negotiate their way through the crowd. It surprised Kyle just how many people recognized him, shook his hand, and seemed genuinely happy to see him or Mary, or both. He and Mary separated briefly when a man in a deep blue uniform wheeled through the door. He seemed vaguely familiar, but Kyle couldn’t place him. He exchanged business cards with Fisher Thom, another nerd-made-success-story and his former co-captain of the AV club, and made plans to meet for a round of golf sometime—the vague niceties observed, he made his way over to rejoin her.

The wide, warm grin she flashed him threatened to stop his heart. “Kyle, do you remember Boone Stevens?” Despite the introduction, he couldn’t reconcile the name to the boy he remembered. The close-cropped military cut and the uniform, didn’t match the high school memory. They shook hands and he stepped back to rest a hand on the back of the chair Mary claimed.

The clues snapped an image in his mind—long blond hair, scruffy beard, board shorts year-round and a surfboard secured to the back of his jeep. Boone was one of those guys who coasted through high school, friends with everyone and belonging to no particular group. He preferred the waves to the classroom and his grades often reflected it.

“He doesn’t.” The officer laughed. “But I think it’s the lack of shaggy hair and a surfboard.”

“Holy shit, no I almost didn’t. But how the hell are you?” The minute the words left his mouth, he could have kicked himself. The guy sat in a wheelchair.

“Not bad. Enjoying shocking the hell out of people. You?” The corners of Boone’s eyes creased in easy humor.

“I can’t complain and I think I’ve shocked my fair share. Navy?” It didn’t surprise him—he could easily picture Boone as a sailor—particularly with the clean-shaven appearance he sported.

“Yup. Mary here was just telling me about a rehab center in Texas. But you two look ready to get out of here….”

“We can hang out if you want back up.” Mary glanced at Kyle when she made the offer, but he nodded in agreement. He’d tutored Boone through most of their junior and senior years. In turn, Boone taught him to surf. A skill, he let drift away after those couple of years, but he still enjoyed the memories.

“I’m good. You two get the hell out of here, especially if you’re deploying again in a few weeks. You need the break. I’ll check out Mike’s Place though. The docs are planning to get me fitted with a prosthetic that doesn’t chafe.”

The words dragged Kyle’s gaze downward. It wasn’t noticeable at first, but Boone’s left pant leg draped a little different than his right. The third donkey kick of the day left him a little sick to his stomach.

Boone gave him a patient look. “It’s cool, man, seriously. Accidents happen. I’ll be on my feet in no time.”

“Good for you.” He reached into his suit jacket and pulled out a card. “If I can do anything or you need a job or just want to grab a beer—gimme a call.” He didn’t have a company to hire him with right now, but a new idea began to form in the back of his mind. He’d have to let it ruminate, but he had over two hundred million in the bank.

I could do some good with that
.

“You got it. Watch your back, Mary.” He and Mary shook hands and the image of the two vital people exchanging such a private salute and mutual respect shook Kyle to his core. He was still trying to wrap his mind around it all when they strolled across the lobby ten minutes later.