The Officer and the Secret (24 page)

But he knew better, and he went on. And she did, until her mind seemed to float away from her body on a haze of hedonism. Vaguely she realized he was working his way back up her body, light kisses, barely there caresses. But he was still fully dressed. For that matter, she mostly was herself. She reached with one heavy arm to undo his tie, to help him start the process, but he captured her fingers and moved them away.

Reaching in his nightstand, he pulled out a condom.

“Um, I think…” She waved at it, not sure what more to say. How did you phrase the question on your wedding night about protection?

He stared at the foil in his fingers for a moment, as if not even understanding how it got there. “Ah. Right. Yeah, that was just automatic.” But he didn’t set it down right away.

She waited, and waited a little longer. But it was like he was frozen, unable to move or make a choice. Put it down, or use it. She finally ended his decision-making by gently removing the packet from his fingers and placing it on the nightstand. His eyes tracked her every move.

“You sure?”

She nodded. Why wouldn’t she be? The damage was done, as far as a child was concerned. It seemed a little silly not to trust him now. Maybe that was naive of her, but then so be it. She couldn’t go into the marriage with anything less than her all.

But Dwayne could. She knew even as he shifted between her legs that he wasn’t completely there. Mentally of course. But emotionally, the sweetness was gone. The sigh of contentment when he slid in was missing. Every move, every word he breathed, every touch felt calculated for pleasure. Not an expression of love. It was a choreographed dance, nothing more. And even as he found his own release minutes later, rolled over, and pulled her to his side, she knew a little part of him was completely detached.

It would be an uphill battle. But she’d work through it.

Veronica woke to a completely cold bed. Not a hint of Dwayne’s warmth. She cracked an eye open and saw it wasn’t even six in the morning yet. He left for work early, but usually not this early.

She got up and found one of his sweatshirts to slip on as a makeshift nightgown, since the thing hung almost to her knees. Before opening the bedroom door, she gathered the too-long sleeves to her chest and inhaled his scent, using it like lavender might calm the senses. Then she quietly tiptoed out into the hallway.

After a quick peek at the bathroom door—open, no Dwayne—and the guest room where his desk was—also empty—she padded down the hall to the living room and found him.

With only one side lamp on, he was bathed in an eerie yellow glow, and shadows. It almost made the simple picture of getting ready for work more menacing. More serious. He sat on the couch, lacing up his boots. Unaware she was in the hallway, she had the opportunity to watch his fingers at work. As they manipulated the thin strings around each hook and expertly knotted them with efficient, fast movements, it wasn’t hard to remember what those fingers felt like only hours before over her body. She shivered, and must have made some small sound because his head snapped up and he spotted her immediately.

“Did I wake you?”

“No, I… no. I just woke up and realized you were gone.” She looked at the clock for emphasis. “Early morning at work?”

“Yeah.” He finished the last knot, pulled tight, then stood. Six foot four inches of camouflage. And he was hers. “I don’t really have the time right now to take off, sorry. Things going on at work.”

“Things. Right.” She thought for a moment, then decided to ask anyway. “How long have you been up?”

“Few hours.” He shrugged like it was no big deal, like there wasn’t a massive wall between them.

“Did I—”

“No.” Short, curt, the reply left no room for arguments. “You didn’t. I just needed to get up and move around.”

A lightbulb went on. “Did you have a bad dream?” He didn’t answer, but even in the dim light she could see a muscle twitch. “You can wake me up, you know. If you have a bad dream. If you need to talk about it.”

“I’m fine.”

He might be, but she wasn’t. But she nodded just the same. He brushed past her to open the fridge door, grab a bottle of water, and shut it. “I’ll be home later. Not sure when. I’ll text you and let you know.” He pressed a firm kiss to her forehead—robotic almost—and grabbed a gym bag before walking out the front door and closing it quietly behind him.

It wasn’t even dawn yet on their first day of living together, and already she started to feel like a failure.

***

“Tim must be a liar. You’re over here way too much for married life to be any good.” Jeremy killed his beer and set the empty bottle on the table in front of him.

“Not married yet.” Dwayne rolled his eyes.

“But you’re engaged, and there are plans in the works, and you’re living together. It’s just semantics.”

Time to deflect. “What’s Tim got to do with this?” Dwayne rubbed a hand over his head and fought the urge to tug at his hair… what little of it he had. Why was everyone so damn concerned with his relationship? First Madison’s texting him to see how things are going—as if she couldn’t just ask Veronica herself—and now Jeremy. What the hell?

Jeremy shrugged and kicked back in his recliner. “It used to be the three of us, you know? Then he married Skye. Then he fell in love with her.”

Dwayne snickered at the ass-backwards way he described it, though he spoke the truth.

“And now he’s not around as much. I figure, if it sucked, he’d duck out more often. But this is the third time this week you’ve followed me home from work like a lost freaking puppy instead of racing home to your soon-to-be-wife. So really, can’t be all that great, can it?”

He concentrated on loosening his grip on the beer. Crushing the glass would definitely not make him appear as sane as he would like. “I think that’s just a matter of opinion. Besides, aren’t you and Madison basically living together right now? Why are you always over here at your old apartment? I think that answers your questions.”

“We’re not officially moved in yet. Veronica still has some stuff left over, and I’m taking my time. Plus, my lease isn’t up here for another three months, so we’re not in a rush to get there. We know that’s the end goal, and we’re doing it smoothly. It works for us.” Jeremy shrugged, as if it wasn’t a big deal.

Dwayne said nothing.

Jeremy shook his head. “You’re a dick, you know that?”

“What for this time?”

“Ha.” Jeremy reached over and pulled the beer away, lifting a brow when it took more than a little effort to pry from his fingers. He set it down with his empty one on the table. “For proposing like that.” Dwayne gave him a look, and Jeremy shrugged. “Madison told me. Veronica told her. Word gets around in our little group. Get used to it.”

That wasn’t expected. He reared back, confused. “I’m sorry—doing the right thing makes me a dick? If you missed the memo, she’s pregnant.”

“Yeah. So I heard.”

Then what was the problem? He lifted his hands, at a loss of where to take that.

Jeremy sighed and shifted. “I just want to go on the record as saying it’s not a good day when I’m the one with the most women-sense in the group. So there’s that disclaimer.” With obvious reluctance, he leaned forward, hands clasped between his knees. “Veronica is not some girl to hop from bed to bed with different guys.”

The mere thought of Veronica moving on to someone else, with or without his kid, had the color red edging around his line of vision.

“And correct me if I’m wrong, but y’all didn’t exactly jump in the sack from the word go either.”

Not really comfortable with talking about his sex life, not with Veronica, he just lifted one shoulder. Let the idiot make of that what he would.

“Thought so.”

Okay, so he made of it the right thing. Maybe not such an idiot.

“She cared about you, you big dumbass. Probably even loved you.”

“Never said so.”

“Well, hell.” Exasperated, he flung himself back in the seat, tipping the whole thing on its back two hinges before it thumped down even again. “Do you think that’s a requirement? You have to say it out loud or it doesn’t count?”

“It’d be nice,” he grumbled.

“Yeah, well, I’d venture a guess you didn’t really shout your feelings from the rooftops either.”

He had a point. Dammit. “She knew how I felt.”

“Felt? Or feel?”

It was a good question. One he’d been avoiding himself for the past few weeks. He’d been on the edge of love, ready to jump with abandon before she mentioned the baby. Before he knew he was right back where he started… a woman and her uterus leading him on.

“She didn’t do it on purpose.”

The quiet conviction of Jeremy’s statement slapped at him more than any insult or curse could have. “You can’t know that.”

“Neither can you, until you talk to her about it. There’s just no way to know. But she’s not Blair. I can tell you that right now. She’s not someone looking for a meal ticket, or security.”

“Then why’d she say yes? She didn’t have to. I would have helped her no matter what.” More than helped. He would have done everything in his power to see her and the baby taken care of.

“Did you give her a choice?”

“Yeah I gave her a… ” He sat back a moment and replayed their conversation in the truck. Had he? “She’s got a voice. She could have said no.”

“And if she still loves you? Why would she say no?”

The thought that she could seriously still love him kicked him in the ’nads. More so than the fact that Jeremy was suddenly starting to sound like a relationship counselor.

***

Veronica smiled sadly at the computer camera. “I miss you guys so much.”

Through the computer screen, her uncle grinned. “We miss you too, sweetie. Next chance you get, bring that man with you to Texas. Check with Skye and Tim when they’re visiting next. You can all travel together!”

“That’s a good plan.”

“How did both our girls end up with military men?” Uncle Peter grumbled. And she smiled, because she knew that was what he wanted. But the thought that he considered her one of his girls made her tear up.

“Oh, honey, are you all right? He doesn’t mean it.” Aunt Amber watched her with wide eyes. “It’s okay you fell in love with a Marine. Just because we’re pacifists doesn’t mean—”

“No,” she choked out on a watery laugh. “No, that’s not it. I just… I really miss you both.”

“We’re only a Skype call away, remember.” Her aunt smiled. “Now, you need to calm down. It’s not good for the baby to be so upset. Maybe you should try writing your parents an email. Have you told them about the baby yet?”

“You told her
not
to get upset,” Uncle Peter said under his breath, but she heard him anyway.

“Oh, or, you know… study?”

This time her laugh was stronger. “Studying is definitely not going to make me feel much better. But thanks. I do need to tell them. I love you.”

After a quick good-bye, she ended the call and signed out of Skype. Her stomach felt tight, disturbed, nauseous. And it had nothing to do with the baby.

The thought of telling her parents about her pregnancy turned her into a knot of tension. Talking to her parents, under the best of circumstances, was never the easiest task in the world. And as far as her parents were concerned,
this
was definitely not the best of circumstances. Not even close. At least she had the legitimate excuse of breaking the news over email. With her parents in who knew what country that month, their transient lifestyle meant phones were not an option often. Even email was spotty, and they often went weeks, or even months without it. In their mind, there were few people outside of their fellow missionaries they even wanted to hear from regularly. That included their daughter, as it seemed.

Her fingers hovered over the keyboard, not sure how to start.

Hey, Mom and Dad. How are things going over there? Staying safe? Great. Just wanted to let you know that I’m pregnant. But it’s okay, because I am getting married. When? Oh, few weeks or so. Maybe a month. Or two. Have a good day!

The next email she’d likely receive was that her parents died in a freak double heart attack.

Not quite the desired effect.

She waited for inspiration to strike. Nada.

Skye had given her the week off from work, partly because she was exhausted from the pregnancy and planning the move, and more importantly because she thought her cousin would want some time with her new fiancé and settling in.

Unfortunately, her fiancé didn’t want time to deal with her. She might not be too well-versed in the ways of a Marine, but she figured he could have taken at least one day off to spend with her. It was his choice to leave each morning before she woke up, and his choice to come home when she was already curled up in bed.

Okay, she could practice the email first. If it was awful, she wouldn’t have to send it. Opening a blank Word document, she focused her eyes only on the keyboard, positioned her fingers, and let them fly, mindless words pouring from her. When she finally looked up, it shocked her how much she’d written.

But it was the first sentence she wrote that scared her the most.

The
man
I
love
wants
nothing
to
do
with
me.

Sitting back in the desk chair, she read it over and over until the words felt burned into her eyelids. Hesitating only a moment, she printed the page of rambling and glanced over it once more in ink form.

It was clear now she had to do something serious to fix their relationship. Even if it hurt.

Dwayne wandered down to Tim’s office and knocked once before pushing in. He was on the phone and held up a finger. Dwayne sat down in the chair across from his desk, then stood up again. The restless energy in his legs wasn’t going to let him sit still. It was like ants crawled into his bloodstream and wouldn’t give up their skittering around. He couldn’t sit for more than a few minutes before feeling the urge to shake his limbs out.

With a click, Tim hung up and leaned back in his chair. “Hey, stranger. I know you’ve been in every day, but I haven’t seen you. Avoiding me?”

“Nah. Just running around. Busy.”
Busy
avoiding
you.
He didn’t need another lecture. And if anyone gave a worthy lecture, it was Tim.

“I’m a little surprised you didn’t take at least a three-day weekend to help get settled in. I know what it’s like living with someone at the last second. A few days wouldn’t have killed you.”

“Shit to do.” He stared at a picture of Tim hung on the wall. A shiny new lieutenant with his commission papers in hand, fellow Academy grads standing around him. Another hung next to it, of him and Skye. Just sitting on the back porch, her legs draped over his thighs, looking at each other like nothing else in the world existed.

“You know, you have a lot of nerve, making it seem easy.”

“What?”

“Marriage. Your relationship with Skye. Being happy with one woman forever and ever, amen.”

Tim scoffed. “I’m sorry, did you choose to just block out the entire first six months of my marriage? Including the part where I forgot I
was
married?”

“But now.” He turned and stared at his friend hard. “Now it’s easy.”

Tim shook his head. “Sorry, bud. Not true either. Don’t get me wrong, I love my wife. But easy is definitely not one of the words I would use to describe my relationship. It’s work. Daily work. Some days come easier, some days harder. But anyone who told you once you find your soul mate your troubles melt away was a liar.”

Dammit. If only it seriously were that easy. “I think I fucked up.”

“Probably. But could you be more specific?”

He shot his friend a withering glare. “Cute. I mean with proposing to Veronica. I shouldn’t have.”

Tim swiveled a little in his chair, as if thinking, then shrugged one shoulder. “Maybe.”

“Helpful.”

“Maybe it was just the way you went about it.”

“Maybe.”

“Now who’s being helpful?” Tim smiled, and Dwayne could feel the pity from a mile away. “I can’t do this for you. I can’t make up your mind on whether you want to be married or not, engaged or not, together or not. That’s not how it works.”

“Well, hell.” He flopped back down in the chair and waited for a divine answer from God.

Nothing.

“I shouldn’t have asked her to marry me if I didn’t love her.”

“Don’t you?”

He closed his eyes a moment. “Why is it everyone thinks they know me and my feelings better than I do?”

“’Cause you’re an idiot?” Tim asked helpfully. Then he chuckled. “We’re all idiots when it comes to women. That’s just the way the game is played. If we knew everything there was to know about the female species, then we’d get bored. The mystery is specifically designed to keep us crazy and wanting more.”

Despite the situation, he laughed. “Probably.”

“Let’s go grab some lunch. Taco stand?”

As Dwayne followed Tim out the door, his friend asked, “Would it kill you to ask her how it happened? You seem so sure there was some evil, nefarious plot behind the entire thing. But couldn’t it have just been a mistake?”

He tried to picture how that conversation could go.
Hey, dear, how’s dinner coming along? Smells great. Did you lie about being on birth control?
Yeah. Great idea.

“I can see the wheels turning, and I doubt they’re going anywhere good.”

“Probably not,” he agreed.

“You didn’t have a problem confronting Blair over what she did,” Tim said, opening his car door.

“I didn’t feel…” He drifted off, hand frozen over the door handle, staring at his best friend over the top of the car.

His best friend, who had the nerve to look smug. “Feel what?”

Snapping out of it, he opened the door and gave his friend a sardonic glance. “Yeah. What.”

As they each shut their doors and Tim started the car, he turned. “Just talk to her, ya dumb jarhead.”

When the result of that simple talk mattered more than he wanted to admit, it was easier said than done.

***

Throughout the day, Veronica tried to distract herself from the white noise of disappointment filling her mind by washing dishes and folding laundry. She went so far as to get down on her hands and knees and scrub around the corners of the kitchen floor before it was too much. Tossing her rubber gloves in the sink, she gave in to temptation and stormed back to the office-slash-guest room and found her bag where she kept her schoolbooks, and conveniently stashed the page. Dragging the whole thing out to the living room, she plopped the bag down, curled up on the couch, and dug out the paper.

No. No, she wasn’t going to do this again. Folding the paper in half, she grabbed her thick GED test prep book and shoved the paper in the front where she wouldn’t have to look at it. About to shove the book back in her bag, she realized there were still a few hours before Dwayne was home. Best to study before he got back. Only a few more weeks to drill herself before the test.

And once she had her GED, she could tell Dwayne about it. You know, if it ever came up in conversation. But until that time, she was going to just work her butt off and get done what she could.

Curling up on the couch, she settled with a pad of paper, a pencil, and her book, ready to copy equations over and over until they were burned in her brain.

But when she jolted awake some time later, she had no idea she’d even fallen asleep. She rubbed grainy eyes, stretched her sore neck, and stared straight ahead into cammie-clad legs. Craning her neck, she looked up to see an amused smile tilting his lips.

“Must be riveting stuff.”

“Yeah. Well, you know. Numbers make me sleepy.” She tried to close the book without drawing attention to it. “What are you doing home so early?”

He rubbed the back of his neck and sat down next to her. “I went in early, so I figured I could leave early.”

She smiled. “I’m glad.” Taking a chance, she added, “I’ve missed you.”

“Really?” He looked a little surprised, though she had no clue why. But before it even registered what he was doing, he reached over and took the book from her hands. “Maybe I can change and help you study. Whatcha working on?”

Panicking on the inside, she tried to keep her voice calm as she reached for the book back. “Oh, I’m good. If you want to—”

“GED prep?” He gave her a funny glance. “I think you picked up the wrong study book. You probably meant the GRE, babe. They talk about pregnancy brain, but I didn’t believe it until now.”

She laughed weakly.

“I don’t think I asked you before, but exactly which classes are you taking? I assumed online courses, since you never mentioned going on campus.”

“True.” Well, it was. “Okay. Look, here’s the thing.” She gingerly took the book back and scooted until her back was supported by the arm of the couch, making it easier to watch his face. “This is actually the right book. I’m studying for my GED.”

She could almost see each step of the process as her words filtered through his brain, what that meant. The confusion, the irritation. The anger.

“I’m working hard,” she rushed on. “I’m almost done, and I should be testing in the next few weeks. So it’s basically a done deal. I’m sure I’ll pass but—”

“So you lied.”

From the top of his head to the toes of his boots, she watched as any form of discernible emotion drained from his body until he was a blank slate.

“I’m almost done,” she said weakly.

“But you lied. You’re not actually in college.”

“I didn’t want you to think I was an idiot. It’s embarrassing.”

“That’s bull and you know it.” He exploded off the couch and paced in front of the coffee table. Why was it, in his uniform, he was exponentially more intimidating? “I know you’re not an idiot. I don’t even want to hear you think it. That’s not the point. It never would have been the point. But you told me you were in college.”

“I never actually said—”

“You let me believe it. You didn’t correct me. All the time we spent together and you didn’t correct me. It’s the same thing, and you know it. Don’t play semantics.”

He was so angry. Angrier than she ever considered he might be when she told him the truth. But oddly, for a different reason than what she expected. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry? For what?” He stopped, his huge boots inches from her bare feet, making her look tiny by comparison. “It’s a pretty simple thing, you know. I don’t care that you’re still working on your GED. You could have told me.”

“I was embarrassed. I still am. I’m twenty-six.” She held up her hands, at a loss for how to explain to him exactly how hard it was for her to know people thought she was an idiot for not having finished high school. For not ever being to high school. For the way she was raised, her lack of friends, her lack of updated culture. Everything.

She wanted to say it. She was finally ready to say it. But he wasn’t ready to hear. Even she knew that.

“How the hell… I mean, how do I… Dammit!” He stomped off down the hall, leaving her mouth hanging open at his curse. A moment later a door shut, and she could only assume it was the main bedroom.

That was definitely not how she saw the whole thing playing out in her head. And worse, the frustration he felt for being kept in the dark about this was only adding onto his frustration with the way their marriage came together in the first place.

You
dug
yourself
a
nice
deep
hole, Veronica. Time to start clawing your way out.

***

Lied. She lied. What the hell was she lying about?

He let his boot drop from his hand to the floor with a heavy thud, knowing it was the best he could do. What he really wanted was to work it out with a sparring partner. Or go a few rounds with a punching bag. Something. But no, he was now stuck in his room because he stomped off like a child. And like hell was he going back out there right now. No. Even he knew he needed a cooling down time-out from the rest of the world, and he wasn’t leaving until he had things under control.

His lack of control over his temper, just now in front of Veronica, was going to haunt him that night. The normal Dwayne wouldn’t have gone off like that. Or was this the new normal? How was he supposed to know anymore?

And why had she lied about the whole GED thing anyway? People had to drop out of high school; it happened. His own mom did, thanks to being pregnant with him. She went back eventually, finished school through night classes. Busted her ass to get it done. There was no shame in that. And she knew. Dammit, she knew. He’d told her all about his mom. And she didn’t use it as a time to air out. Just sat there, nodding, saying she sounded like a good woman.

What the hell else was she hiding? Hard to tell at this point. But he needed to get a grip or else he was going to lose it. And they still hadn’t even had the big talk. The one that he would rather gouge his eyes out than have.

With the news that she’d been withholding on this, he wasn’t overly excited to hear what else was going on.

***

Veronica crawled into the twin bed and debated whether to suck it up and head to the main bedroom. But no, this was probably for the best. Shifting, she tried wedging a pillow against her chest and wiggled a little. She’d holed herself up in the second bedroom for the rest of the day, studying and generally feeling ill. Her stomach hurt, but that was just a part of pregnancy. So she wasn’t looking forward to dealing with Dwayne, not when she felt awful. Maybe tomorrow, after some rest… if rest would ever come. She tried again with the pillow, anchoring her from behind now. No, that wasn’t going to work.

She flopped on her back and stared at the ceiling. She wasn’t even showing yet and she couldn’t get comfortable. How in the world was she supposed to get comfortable at nine months? She shuddered at the thought.

No sooner had she turned to her side and found a comfortable position than the door swung open.

“What are you doing?”

“Sleeping.” She didn’t move. It took her ten minutes to find the position she was in and she wasn’t about to lose it just because he—

“Dwayne!” She shrieked and her hands scrambled around his neck for a good grip. “What are you doing?”

He turned sideways to get through the doorway, and again to get through the main bedroom’s door. “Going to bed—what does it look like?”

“And why am I being dragged into this?”

He set her gently on the edge of the bed and put his hands on his hips. “Because you didn’t come to bed yourself. If you’re going to make me do all the work, then I will. But I don’t have to like it.”

She wanted to argue, she really did, but she felt awful. The only thing she wanted more was to sleep. And since making a break for the guest room was out of the question, she growled and crawled under the sheets to start the process of finding a comfortable position all over again.

He turned out the lights and the bed dipped behind her as he joined her under the covers. But when he didn’t turn and gather her to him, she let everything that churned low in her belly fall out.

“I am a freak.”

He shifted and rolled, though she didn’t know where he was facing. She kept her back to him.

“Do you want to expand on that, darlin’?”

Well, she opened the door. Time to step through. “My parents are missionaries. I’ve lived in more third-world countries than I can count. Probably more than most people know exist.”

He said nothing.

She blew out a breath and crunched her knees up a little more. Any week now, the first trimester stuff should pass. Any week now. “I almost never had friends. Nobody around me spoke my language. Anyone who did was too old for me to play with. Or they were a boy, and I wasn’t allowed to fraternize with them after about age seven. Something about the evils of the opposite sex.” She sighed. “My parents took things to extremes more often than not.”