The Officer Breaks the Rules (10 page)

And her heart swelled just a little at the thought.

Helmet on, she fumbled a minute with the chinstrap until he stepped around her and
pushed her fingers away. “You’ll make a mess out of it. Let me do it.”

She tilted her head to the side so he could see what he was doing. His fingers, not
yet in gloves, brushed the sensitive skin under her chin and down her throat. If she
didn’t know better—and she wasn’t sure what she knew anymore—she would have said he
was doing it on purpose. Stroking her, feeling her skin, making her nerve endings
stand up at attention all under the guise of helping her with her chinstrap. But that
wasn’t really Jeremy’s style.

Was it?

She gave him a glance, but his eyes remained on his fingers as they snapped the strap
in place. Then he gave her a grin and a quick pat on the top of the helmet. “All secure.
Let’s ride.”

She’d been waiting for just such an invitation for longer than he knew.

***

Jeremy waited until she climbed up behind him, chuckling under his breath at the effort
it took. She was athletic, and not a wuss, but she was short and unaccustomed to the
motion. Her leg hitched up and she almost toppled over before he grabbed her and pulled
her up.

“They really should think of the short people,” she grumbled, voice muffled through
the helmets.

“Just hold on tight, and stay aware until you pick up the rhythm. Don’t zone out.”
Which was all too easy to do, he knew, when you weren’t the one driving. But just
his luck, she’d veer left when he was turning right… He started the bike, any idea
of conversation lost under the roar of the engine.

The feel of Madison behind him on his bike was one of the most erotic things he’d
ever experienced. Her thighs clenched around the outside of his. Her arms wrapped
around his waist like a big hug, hands splayed over his stomach. They twitched ever
so slightly against his muscles when he leaned into a turn or made a stop, making
him want them to creep lower. Her breasts pressed into his back like soft pillows.

But her head. Damn it, her head. Despite the helmet protecting her, he felt her lower
her cheek to his back, between his shoulder blades, resting comfortably against him,
almost like she was ready to take a nap. Completely trusting him with her safety and
well-being. Submitting to his protection.

God dammit. The whole ride was undoing him. And he put himself in the position on
purpose, of all things. Because try as he might—and oh, he’d tried—he couldn’t stay
away. Couldn’t deny himself these little moments of Madison. Of her total attention.
Of pretending, even for a few minutes, that there was something more between them.

He leaned into a turn as they exited, heading for a park he knew was nearby. One that
would be empty now, as people were still at church or just waking up from sleeping
in. Then her hands clenched around his shirt again, and he groaned. Because she couldn’t
hear him anyway, so why hold in the sounds of pleasant torture?

They slowed as he approached the semi-hidden park that was often neglected by the
city. Every few months, someone would come in and do a half-ass job of mowing the
area, taking a weed whacker to the areas just around the playground equipment and
leaving the rest virtually untouched. Rare was the time he’d come here and find someone
else around. And, as he predicted, the area was completely empty as he guided his
motorcycle down the narrow dirt lane that led to the playground area, along with a
few picnic benches.

Perfect place for his own fictional detective to come when he needed a little quiet
reflection to work through the clues leading up to the first of what he hoped to be
many successful cases.

Her hands clutched in his shirt once more as he pulled to a complete stop and cut
the engine. She held on a moment longer than necessary before letting go.

It was sinful, just feeling it over the cotton of his T-shirt and his jacket. What
those hands would be like on his own bare skin…

Madison slid off the back of the motorcycle and unsnapped her helmet, leaning over
to shake out her hair that had flattened down. Jeremy enjoyed the backside view in
her jeans before she stood straight again and handed him the helmet.

“What is this place?”

He removed his own helmet and set them on the seat, leaving his jacket draped over
the seat, and walked behind her into the playground area. It’d been a few weeks since
the last mowing, and thanks to the recent rains, the grass was tall. They high-stepped
over to the first picnic bench where Madison hopped up and sat on the table, feet
resting on the bench below.

“Just a playground. Doesn’t get much use.”

She eyed the grass warily. “No kidding. You could lose a toddler in the landscape.
Why are we here?”

He shrugged, not entirely sure why he brought her to his thinking spot. “Just some
place I go when I need a little time away.”

“You live by yourself; you could have time away in the comfort of your own apartment,”
she pointed out as he sat down next to her.

He smiled. Whereas he liked his space, Madison was one who loved people, loved being
surrounded by noise and activity and friendship and conversation. Hell, she had her
own nice apartment all to herself, and she went and ruined it—to his mind—by getting
a roommate. To her, the idea of needing time alone to recharge some mental battery
would be absurd. “Yeah, that’s true. But sometimes you just need to step outside of
your own area and get a better look at things. You know?”

“Things like what?”

To share or not to share… That was more than just a question. It was a possible life-changing
decision. If he told her about his writing, it would seem more real. More serious.
More like something he could fail at, rather than just a hobby that didn’t matter
much.

Not to mention, it would possibly put up one last barrier between them. What if she
mocked his ideas? Thought it was a worthless idea, like his father. Told him to give
it up, get his head out of his ass and concentrate on his career in the Marines…

But what if she wouldn’t? No, he decided. She wouldn’t. He knew that. And he trusted
her. “I like to write.”

She bumped his shoulder with hers. “I know that.”

“You do?” he asked, surprised. Glancing at her, he took in the way she lounged back
on her hands, heels kicking out in a childlike arc that made him want to smile.

“Yeah. Of course. You were always jotting stuff down somewhere. Thinking hard. Making
notes. Your notebook is never far away. I sort of put two and two together.”

If she was able to put it together… had Dwayne? Tim? The thought of them knowing,
of them possibly joking about it even in a friendly way, made him want to throw up.

As if she could read his mind, she rubbed a hand over his knee. “No. They can’t add
up. I don’t think Tim or Dwayne would know anything unless it was right in front of
their faces, God love them. I’m sure they haven’t noticed.”

He breathed a sigh of relief. “It’s just personal. At least now.”

“What do you write?”

“Mysteries. Detective stuff. Nothing much.” He shrugged, but when she frowned he asked,
“What?”

“I wish you wouldn’t do that. It’s obviously important to you. So why do you put it
down like it’s nothing? It matters to you, so it’s something.”

Nailed him. “Habit, I guess. You don’t want people to know what you’re writing in
case it sucks or you never make anything of it. Easier than having to relive rejection
over again with your friends.”

She nodded, then stared into the distance. “Thanks for telling me. I always wondered
how long you would keep it a secret.”

“Forever,” he joked, and she laughed. Before he could think of what else to say, she
jumped down and raced across the small field toward the playground equipment, her
short legs looking five kinds of ridiculous the way she kept her knees up high to
wade through the grass.

He followed at an easy lope, his longer legs not having nearly as much trouble as
she did with the terrain. By the time he caught up to her, she was halfway to the
top of the dome-shaped climbing bars. He followed without a word, smiling the whole
time. And when he reached the top he sat next to her, hooking his knees through the
bars and letting his feet in their heavy boots dangle.

She watched the clouds float by in silence, as if that was the only plan for the entire
day. And she took his hand, lacing her fingers between his, and simply sat. Not making
a move, not trying to play hard to get. Existing. As if this was just how they spent
every Sunday morning. Being lazy at the playground, being with each other, soaking
in the other’s presence.

It was something he could get used to. Not that he should.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket and she reached for it automatically. He wasn’t offended;
he’d have done the same thing. In their line of work, not checking a message could
mean serious problems.

When she sighed and flipped the phone closed again, he squeezed her hand. “Something
wrong?”

“Yeah. I totally forgot to make Veronica a set of keys for the storage unit, and she
needs to leave soon for work. I guess some of her work clothes got put in the storage
by accident. So I need to be there to unlock the door.” She gave him a wistful look,
eyes full of emotion and zero guile. “I don’t want to leave yet.”

He smoothed a few strands behind her ears. “I know. Neither do I.”

Taking the risk to his heart, he leaned in and brushed a kiss over her lips. Just
one, as light as possible. But enough to let her know where his head was.

She smiled, eyes darkening just a little, lids lowering a fraction. “Damn keys.” Then,
with one more sigh, she started to climb back down. “Can you run me by a hardware
store to get a second copy made? I can’t believe I forgot to make the storage key
duplicate when I made the apartment and mailbox key.”

“No problem.” He walked with her back to the motorcycle, laughing silently as she
hopped around the taller weeds like a doe. The woman had more energy and spunk than
anyone he knew. And she invigorated him, just by being near her. Like an emotional
battery charger.

Soon enough, it would work the opposite way. Being near her, around her, beside her
without sleeping with her… it would drain him. How much longer could he keep this
up?

Madison reluctantly unclenched her hands from around Jeremy’s waist as the motorcycle
slowed to a stop in her parking lot. Damn, that was over way too soon. Not just having
an excuse to wrap her arms around Jeremy, press against him, feel him move over and
around her. But the actual thrill of riding on the back of the bike itself. She’d
never been on one, though God knows how, since every third Marine owned one, and she
was friends with dozens of them.

Just another first she shared with Jeremy. Maybe that’s why she’d never been on one
before. More special this way.

“Shit,” he muttered under his breath.

Okay, that wasn’t special talk. “What?”

“Your brother’s here. That’s his car.”

She hopped off the bike, nearly pitched forward when her foot caught on the seat,
and righted herself against the SUV next to her. Dammit. They really didn’t think
about the short people when they made these things. “Where?” She turned, her peripheral
vision hampered by the clunky helmet. But Jeremy quickly leaned over and unsnapped
the helmet, pulling it off so she could see on the other side of the parking lot where
her brother’s car sat, empty.

“Yeah. That’s his. The guy has fantastic timing.” She shook her head and ran her fingers
through her hair in a vain attempt to fluff up the flat strands. Not that it worked.
Stupid hair.

“If it’s all the same to you, I’m just gonna head out. You okay to go up by yourself?”
Jeremy looked uncomfortable, though she couldn’t tell if it was because of her brother
being there, or because this felt almost like the end of a casual date and he had
no clue how to close the deal.

Probably a combination of the two, which made him twice the fool.

“I’m fine. I came down myself, I’ll go back up.” Before he could get any ideas about
making a smooth getaway, she leaned over and gave him a kiss to curl both their toes.
Shockingly, he didn’t pull away. But he didn’t lean in either, didn’t give back. That
was fine. He was exempt from PDA. This time.

She waited as he backed his bike away from the curb and pulled out of the parking
lot. Just as she was about to turn away, she noticed him lift one hand up in a backwards
wave before turning the corner out of sight. That one wave, though it might seem pathetic
to some, made her feel almost as mushy and happy as the kiss did. With light feet
and a lighter heart, she skipped up the apartment steps until she reached her apartment
door and walked through.

“Hey, squirt.” Right on cue, Tim stood from her couch and gave her a once-over. “Where’ve
you been?”

“Oh you know, hot date with a guy on a motorcycle,” she said airily as she walked
into the kitchen.

“What?” Tim’s voice sharpened, then he chuckled. “Ah, yeah. One of Hell’s Angels,
right?”

“Sure,” she played along as she grabbed a bottle of water. “You know me. I live to
be someone’s old lady on the back of a chopper. Thinking of getting Bubba’s name tattooed
on my arm.”

“Nice.” He looked at her once again. “You look different.” Then he shook his head
and shrugged. “Anyway, I was just coming over to apologize again to Veronica for not
being around to help out with the furniture and see how it went. Jeremy said it all
went okay.”

“Yup. Furniture’s good to go. It was easy construction, once we figured out the whole
garbled instructions. I swear, it looks like English but it reads like some dead language.”

Veronica breezed past like a cartoon puff of smoke. “Hey, Madison. Thanks for coming
back. Totally forgot I didn’t have a key to the storage locker.”

“Wait! Here.” She held the brand-new copy out before the puff of smoke formally known
as her roommate walked out the door. “My fault I didn’t have that one ready for you.
That should take care of it.”

Veronica snatched the key from her hand and walked out the door, closing it hastily
behind her.

Tim’s mouth gaped open. “Was that actually Veronica? I think that’s the first time
she’s ever used so many contractions at one time. And she was completely rushed. Didn’t
even say—”

The door cracked open and Veronica’s head poked back in. She gave them both a shy
smile and softly said, “Thank you,” before closing the door behind her once more,
only softer this time.

Madison smirked at her brother. “You were saying?”

Tim shrugged. “She’s changing, but for the better.”

“I totally agree.” Taking her water, she headed back into the living room, unzipping
her jacket and letting it fall to the floor behind her as she walked.

Tim scoffed and picked it up, draping it over the back of the couch as she plopped
down on the love seat. He was changing for the better too… but small glimpses of the
neat freak still shone through on occasion.

She gestured to the cushion next to her. “Gonna sit down for a bit?”

“Nah, I haven’t seen Skye today. She was at work this afternoon when I got home, so
I just showered and ran over here quickly. Wanted to make sure there wasn’t any leftover
stuff you needed help with after the big move.”

“Jeremy took care of it all,” she assured him.

“Good guy.” Tim toyed with the zipper of her jacket for a minute, as if lost in thought.

“Something on your mind, bro?”

He sighed and smoothed the jacket back down. “Just Jeremy. Something’s going on with
him lately, and I can’t figure it out. He’s moping around more than his usual delightfully
sullen self.”

Caution, swimmers. Choppy waters ahead.
“Maybe he just worries about D. It’s weird not being over there to watch your buddy’s
back.”

“Maybe.” But he didn’t look convinced. “Anyway, thanks for not caring about the change
in plans on Jeremy helping instead of me.”

“No problem. Glad he could make time for us.”

“He’ll always have time for you. Dwayne, too. You’re their little sister as much as
mine. They’d do anything for you.” With that, Tim leaned over to give her a quick,
absent kiss on the cheek before walking out, giving a cursory, “Lock this behind me,”
as he went. Always the big brother.

“Little sister, my ass,” she mumbled as she stood to go lock the door. “That is not
how he kisses me, bro.”

And with that smug smile, Madison went to go take a nap before her week of late-night
shifts began.

***

“Spill the beans, oh satisfied one.” Matthew nudged her as she stood by the main desk
on the OB floor.

Madison scoffed. “Satisfied? Hardly. I think confused is more like it. He wants me.
And I feel like we’re making headway. But it’s one of those two steps forward, one
step back sort of things. Every time I think we’re getting somewhere, we stumble.”

“Ah,
amore
,” Matthew said with a phony French accent that had Madison giggling. “Dude totally
wants you. And man, I can’t blame you for wanting him.” When Madison raised a brow,
he grinned. “He might not be for sale, but I can still window shop.”

Madison smiled and shook her head. “You’re incorrigible.”

“It’s all a part of my charm.” He reached over and grabbed a chart. “Williams in room
302 needs another IV drip in about fifteen.”

“I’ll get it.” She sighed and rolled her neck, working out the kinks. Though OB was
her favorite in all the rotations, it was hard on the body. Moms needed what they
needed as soon as they needed it, and Madison was the one responsible for getting
it. But who could resist the cute little babies? Once they were all cleaned up, naturally.
The best part, though, were the fathers, who always looked so mystified and poleaxed
when they were handed their little bundle for the first time, almost as if they were
afraid they might break it. Then that look of pure love would cross their faces and—

“You’re going gooey.”

“Hmm?” She glanced up to see Matthew grinning down at her. “I am not.”

“You were thinking about him again, weren’t you?”

“No. I was not,” she said with total honesty. The look on Matthew’s face said he didn’t
believe her one bit. Her phone buzzed in her sweatshirt pocket and she grabbed at
it like a lifeline. “Hold on. Text message.”

“Is it from lover boy?”

She nudged him with her foot, a silent threat that she could kick if he kept it up.
“No. Veronica. Just wanting to know if she can borrow my computer to get some stuff
done.” Madison typed a quick affirmative back, letting her know she could use whatever
she needed, along with the password to unlock the screen from sleep mode, then shut
the phone.

“You know what you need to do?”

“Please tell me, oh wise one.” This would be good.

Matthew walked around the desk and reached under to the mini-fridge stashed by the
chair, grabbing the Coke he was addicted to. “You need to make one big push. Subtly
is not your friend with this one, it seems. He’s a hard nut to crack—pun intended—so
you need to do something big to push him over the edge. The little stuff’s been good
so far. Cute, even. But right now you need something that he can’t ignore. The now-or-never
moment.”

“The now-or-never moment?” She stared at him, not even sure if he was speaking her
language any longer.

Matthew rolled his eyes like she just asked him how to start a basic IV. “In the movies,
there’s always that one moment where the main character has the choice. Do I take
this road or that one?”

“Sounds like the guy’s lost,” she said idly.

“More or less,” Matthew agreed. “But the point is, the main character in every movie
is staring at two choices. The comfortable choice, or the road less traveled.”

“I think you’re mixing metaphors and media now. That was Robert Frost.”

“Whatever.” He waved that away, nearly spilling his precious Coke in the process.
“The point is, you’ve laid the groundwork. Everyone’s on even levels now. The field
is wide open.”

“Movies, poetry, and now sports,” she murmured as she reached over him to grab a water.

“So go do something he can’t ignore. One big, fantastic push to have him say yes,
yes, yes. Grab you, kiss you senseless, and make you scream with passion…” Matthew’s
eyes glazed over just a little, and she poked him in the chest with one finger. “Sorry.
Got lost. Had a moment of jealousy. I’m better now. Where was I?”

She raised a brow. “I believe I was screaming with passion.”

“Right. Or, he turns you down and loses you forever.”

“Forever? That’s a little drastic.” And terrifying. She laid a hand over her racing
heart.

Matthew shrugged. “You can’t turn back after the now-or-never. It’d be too weird.”
He glanced at his watch. “Williams needs that drip. Do you want me to—”

“No, I’ve got it.” She stowed her water back in the fridge and headed to grab the
bag. But she held a hand to her pounding heart as she walked and thought for a moment
about Matthew’s words.

The big push made sense. They were tiptoeing around the idea of being together. Well,
she was tiptoeing. He was pretending to ignore the whole subject entirely. And the
thought that it might just take one big choice to finish the dance and get them into
a relationship was thrilling.

And terrifying. What if Jeremy wasn’t ready? If he said no, and she lost the only
opportunity she had to connect with him…

Not the way to think about that. Madison pulled out the saline bag and walked with
renewed purpose to 302, determined to make the now-or-never be a now.

Because never wasn’t an option.

***

Dwayne sat back and rubbed a hand over his face. Skype was a beautiful invention for
deployments, but Jeremy was making the video chat an almost painful experience. “Jer,
dude, it’s pulling teeth with you, man. What’s going on?”

Jeremy shook his head. “Sorry, man. Just a lot to deal with right now. Work and stuff.”

Uh-huh. Dwayne didn’t buy that sorry excuse for a minute. “Any new chicks in the picture?
Been over to Slider’s recently? Right before I left there was that one hot girl we
kept running into. The blonde. What was her name? Talia? Tina? Them—”

“No,” Jeremy cut in. “No new… chicks.”

“Maybe there should be,” Dwayne muttered.

“I heard that.” Jeremy scowled back at him.

“Well, good. You should get laid, for the love of Chesty.”

“No,” his friend repeated through clenched teeth.

This would be yet another issue with deployments. No way to tell what the hell was
bugging a friend, and no way to fix it. “Fine. If you’re going to be an ass, I’ll
just call Madison.”

“Madison? Why?” Jeremy sat up straighter.

Dwayne raised a brow. “Because she’s my friend, and I call her sometimes to talk.”

“We’re talking.” Jeremy waved a finger between the screen and his chest, somewhat
needlessly.

“No, I’m talking, and you’re doing a whole lot of scowling and mumbling and spreading
your bad attitude. Plus, Madison’s fun to chat with. She works weird hours. So our
schedules mesh up better some weeks thanks to the time difference.” Dwayne looked
forward to his Skype calls with the squirt. She had funny stories, and she was always
enthusiastic to see him. He loved her like a little sister, and she managed to make
him smile. Which was definitely something to grab onto out in the middle of Bumfuck,
Afghanistan. Any smiles were a blessing.

“You’ve talked to her recently?”

Now he was getting closer. Something was up with Jeremy, and Madison might know a
part of it. Or maybe all. “Yeah, not too long ago. She just switched rotations, so
it’s been a little longer than usual.” Dwayne sat forward and smiled as wickedly as
he could manage. “She promised if I was a good boy, next time she’d show me something…
interesting.”

“Like hell she did!” Even through the screen, Dwayne could see Jeremy’s jaw clench,
his fists bunch, his muscles tighten. This wasn’t the stance of someone in disbelief,
or laughing off a joke. He was pissed at the mere hint of Madison being naughty on
a webcam.

Interesting. Very interesting. Dwayne shrugged and sat back further, settling into
his desk chair the best he could. Nothing was more uncomfortable than the cheap plastic
and metal the Marine Corps called furniture. Especially for a man his size. “So maybe
she didn’t. A boy can hope, yeah?”