Patriotic Duty (2 page)

CHAPTER 3

The
week passed by very slowly and we decided to take a breather the following
weekend. The weekends I had Aiden were usually low-key anyway. We’d hang at
each other’s houses at night and whip up all kinds of junk food, watch movies,
and during the day we’d take the kids to the park or some kind of play place to
expend their energy.

By Friday of the second
week, I was happy the weekend was here, but Miranda and I hadn’t discussed what
we were going to do on our kid-free weekend. Her parents wanted to see
Ashlynn
and had offered to take her overnight so we had the
night to ourselves.
Ashlynn’s
dad rarely saw her. He
was a non-child-support-paying abusive loser, so she had
Ashlynn
most of the time, relying on family for babysitting.

She sent me a text as I
pulled up at home:
Gonna
hit the base tonight. Military meat – yum!

I
laughed and typed with my thumbs as I walked into my house:
OK.

The
weather had cooled off over the past few weeks, but another heat wave had hit
and I once again groaned as I opened my front door, as it felt like a brick
oven.

Opening
all the windows, I went into my room and slid open my closet doors, trying to
decide what to wear tonight. I
plucked out my jean skirt and a tight
red tank top. I found my thin, gauzy white button-up shirt and decided none of
it needed ironing.

After some dinner and some
Internet surfing, I took a shower and got ready. I stared at my small shoe
collection and decided on white sandals with a small heel because I was
so
not wearing stilettos into a military
bar. I briefly contemplated the cowboy boots with the skirt, but decided that
was almost sluttier than the stilettos. I’d heard guys at Cowboys refer to them
as FMBs – F-me boots – and I wasn’t going to go there. The skirt itself was
already pushing it. I slipped on the white gauzy
overshirt
and tied it in a knot at my waist over the red tank.

Miranda pulled up in her
red Civic thirty minutes later and I rushed out the door.

***

The base wasn’t very
far,
as it was adjacent to the prison camp we worked at. I
just prayed to God no inmates would be around the place cleaning – even though I
knew better, they never worked at night – but I didn’t put it past them to
sneak out where they weren’t supposed to be, and I surely didn’t need any of
those bitches seeing me like this. Trust
me,
you don’t
want to be the subject of the inmate rumor mill unless you had been rumored to
have kicked some ass.

She pulled the Civic up to
the parking lot in front of the small bar. The base was a Reserve base, so it
wasn’t exactly a bevy of activity. The bar had wooden beams stretched across
its exterior, and several brightly colored alcohol signs decorated its windows.

We got out of the car and
made our way up the four rickety wooden steps and they moaned in protest under
our clacking footfalls. As Miranda opened the door, we could see the place was
not very busy. A few scattered pool tables with low-hanging lamps swung above
them, and an average sized bar stretched the length of the far right wall. A
short, older Latino man with a friendly smile was working behind the bar, doing
something with the cash register. Miranda and I made our way up to the bar. A
loud George Strait song blasted from a jukebox in the corner.

“What can I get you
ladies?” the bartender asked.

Miranda slapped a ten
dollar bill down.
“Two margaritas, please.”

The bartender smiled.
“Coming right up.”

I leaned my back against
the bar, propping my elbows up and looked around. There were random groups of
men – boys, really – around the pool tables, talking, drinking beer, and
shooting pool. They all looked alike for the most part, short military haircuts,
young, no facial hair. They randomly looked over at us, but nobody approached
us.

Miranda, who was always
chipper, and always –
always
–
talking, said, “So, where’s the beef?” before she took a long drag from the
straw.

I laughed. “You’re so
bad.”

She swallowed the pungent
sour tequila mixture with a grimace and licked the salt from the rim.
“No, for real.
This place better pick up.”

I took a sip of my own and
winced at the exorbitant amount of tequila that was in it. “I don’t know why we
came here anyway. We should have gone to Cowboys. More beef there, especially
with the mechanical bull.”

She laughed so hard she
almost choked.
“Touché, girlfriend.”
After she
recovered, she elbowed me and jutted her chin towards a pool table near the
back. “Check it out. They’re hot.”

I followed her line of
sight to two lone guys shooting pool at a back table. They were both tall-
ish
, one with almost black hair, the other lighter. They
didn’t look like kids, unlike the rest of the boys in here, and Miranda smiled.
They seemed to have sensed we were talking about them, because they both turned
their heads and looked at us. I probably turned red but there was no way anyone
would notice with how dark it was in the place.

I looked away and back to
Miranda, who was fidgeting with her bracelet.

“Okay, so I say if this
place doesn’t pick up in like an hour, we head out,” she said, sucking down the
last of her drink.

I grinned up at her.
“Okay.”

As I looked back out at
the bar, my eyes drifted back to the pool table with the two guys. The
dark-haired one seemed to feel my stare, as he turned his head again and looked
over, locking gazes with me for a few long, uncomfortable seconds that made me
hold my breath. After he looked away, he and his friend set their pool sticks down
and disappeared to a back room, probably with more pool tables.

I ordered another
margarita and was feeling quite saucy at this point, so I went over to another
table of boys and asked if I could play. Miranda found another guy to talk to
so I just shot pool for a while.

One guy, I think his name
was Shane, said, “So what job do you have?”

I smiled at him. “I bet
you will never guess.”

He looked at his friends,
and another one said, “I bet you’re a nurse. Do you work at the VA hospital?”

I laughed. Why does
everyone think I’m a nurse? I can’t tell you how many times I’ve heard that. I
could and would never be a nurse. Not only do sick people get on my nerves, I
cannot stand waiting on people. Like,
at
all
.

Shane grinned around the
mouth of his beer bottle.
“Not a nurse, huh?”

I took a long pull from
the little black straw poking up out of the top of my glass.
“Nope.
I’m not in the Army, guys. My friend and I work at the prison over there.” I
pointed in the general direction of the camp, as if they would even know.

Shane put his hands up in
surrender. “Oh, crap. I didn’t do it, I swear!”

I rolled my eyes and
smirked. “Don’t worry, I won’t hurt you.” I winked at him.

So then I got the typical
jail and prison questions, and answering a few of those, I thanked the nice
young soldiers for not only their time, but their service as well, and went to
find Miranda.

At this point, I was
starting to see double. Yeah, after two margaritas – ones that are made right,
anyway – I can start feeling quite good. Call me a lightweight, but it’s always
been that way.

I made my way into a back
room and kind of wandered around, ignoring all the eyes on me. I couldn’t find
Miranda, so I turned to leave the room and someone stepped into my path.

“Are you lost?”

I slowly looked up to a
short buzz of black hair and cobalt eyes that reminded me of the deep blue
ocean. Flirtation and mischief were dancing in them and I could tell he was
trying not to smile. Same look he had when he stared at me earlier from across the
bar.

Okay,
I’ll play,
I thought. I raised a blonde eyebrow. “Do I look
lost?”

He was holding a beer down
by the leg of his jeans and his dark blue T-shirt looked black in the dim light
of the bar. “No. What’s your name?”

He held my gaze without
waver, and I liked his confidence, so I returned it. “Cara.
You?”

“Riley.”

I half-smiled at him.
“Riley. Have you seen my tall pretty friend with the long hair? I seemed to
have lost her.”

“I did see your friend,
but I would say you’re definitely the prettier of the two.”

Oh brother, now he was
laying it on a bit thick. “Okay. Where did you see her?”

He jerked a thumb behind
his shoulder and said, “She’s talking to my buddy, Dan.”

I stood on tiptoe and
peered over his shoulder. Sure enough, Miranda’s smiling face was inches from
Dan’s and I could tell she wouldn’t be talking to anyone else tonight. Dan had
a mop of blonde hair on the top but it was shaved short on the sides and he was
clean-shaven. He reminded me of a surfer type. He was much taller than her, and
I know she liked that.

“So what are you drinking,
Cara?”

I looked down at my empty
glass then back up to Riley. “It
was
a margarita.”

Riley took it out of my
hand, letting his fingers linger on mine a little too long. “I’ll be right
back. Don’t leave, okay?”

I gave him another grin
and nodded. I watched him walk away and wow, he was one hot specimen. Even his
walk oozed confidence, a swagger to be reckoned with. I leaned my back against
the cheap wood paneling of the wall, my hands pressed behind me, one foot propped
up against the wall. A Kenny Chesney song was now blaring throughout the place,
and I watched other guys playing pool. I took a peek in the main area of the
bar to see it was getting pretty busy. Not as busy as Cowboys surely would be
by now, but I was having a good enough time.
Cowboys was
another thirty minute drive and I had no desire to go out anywhere else.

Riley returned with the
glass almost overflowing and handed it to me. His beer looked very cold and he
had liquid dripping down his hand. I had the sudden desire to lick it off, but
suppressed the longing.

“Thank you,” I said,
toasting the air to him. I took a sip and almost choked. “Boy, you must have
tipped that bartender well,” I said through my coughs. “There’s enough tequila
in here to tranquilize a horse.”

Riley’s head tipped back
and he laughed. What a great laugh he had, too.

He watched me sip my
drink, and my head was starting to get even fuzzier than before. I set the
drink down on a nearby small round table and Riley watched my movements very
carefully. Keeping my back against the wall, I also watched him, and he came in
very close to me, also setting his beer down before placing both hands on
either side of my head against the wall.

My breath caught in my
throat as he leaned down and whispered in my ear. “So what do you do for a
living, Cara?”

I barked out a laugh at
the unexpected question. “My friend and I,” I pointed in Miranda’s general
direction, although there seemed to be two of her now, “work at the prison next
door.”

He lifted a dark eyebrow.
“Really?
You sure don’t look like prison guards.”

I shook my head, which
made me dizzier. “We’re not. We’re paper-pushers.”

I started to ramble about
my stupid job again, but he didn’t seem like he was listening. He was watching
my mouth – that much I knew – but if he was retaining any information at this
point, I’d be surprised. He still had his hands on either side of my head and
the close proximity both excited me and made me nervous. I watched as he licked
his lips.

“But yes, I
am
around inmates all day, because that
seems to be the first question –”

I didn’t get to finish my
sentence because his mouth was suddenly crushing mine. I tensed at first, but
then began to relax at the softness of his kiss. His mouth was delicate on my
lips, treating it as a well-earned prize, and I returned his kiss. When his
tongue lightly snaked into my mouth, I let out an involuntary groan and he
reached around and laced his hands around my waist.

I slid my hands up into
his dark hair and grabbed as much of the short locks I could. It felt silky
between my fingers and I could tell he didn’t use any junk in it.

He pressed me hard up
against the grain wood paneling of the bar’s wall and I could feel how much he
wanted me. He broke the kiss when we heard laughing close by.

He looked at me with
intense eyes as I gasped for breath, and I’m pretty sure I was seeing stars,
too. I slowly broke his stare and turned my head to the right to see Miranda
smirking at me. The cute blonde guy, Dan, had his fingers laced through hers
with an arm around her waist.

“Having fun?” she
asked,
a playful smile on her annoyingly perfect lips.