The Officer Breaks the Rules (20 page)

And they were silent. Together. As if in complete agreement that no words were necessary.

Finally, Madison’s fidgety need for conversation overtook her. “Someone’s finally
using this place. Other than us, I mean.” She pointed toward the trio on the soccer
field.

“Yeah. Good for them.”

Daring to glance Jeremy’s way, she wished she hadn’t. In his jeans, boots, and black
leather jacket, sunglasses pushed up over his hair, smelling him so close by, feeling
his heat, he was devastating to her senses.

She cleared her throat. “I’ve been thinking a lot about this whole thing.”

He propped his elbows up on the lowest rung in front and waited, apparently content
to be a spectator in the conversation rather than a participant.

So he wouldn’t make it easy on her. Well, that was fine. “Tim’s not as pissed as you
thought he would be, is he?”

Jeremy grinned at that, then gave her a mock grimace and rubbed at his jaw. “I don’t
know. I think I’m lucky I’ve still got a full set of molars.”

She nudged him with her shoulder. “Don’t be a drama llama. He wasn’t upset with you
at work today, was he?”

“No. We had a beer yesterday, talked it out. I mean, he’s not crazy about the secrets
and sneaking and shit.”

“Told you.”

“But,” he went on, ignoring her, “I think he’s okay. Or, rather, he’s pretending he
knows nothing about it. Blind, deaf, and dumb.” He shook his head, as if the thought
that Tim could come to accept their dating was so unbelievable to him he struggled
to wrap his mind around it.

“He’s got a lot of practice with the dumb part,” she said, mostly out of sibling-induced
habit. As his sister, even without him there, it was her duty to give him some shit.
But they both laughed. “So that’s one hurdle down.”

“Hurdle,” he murmured. Not really a question, but she treated it as such.

“The list you gave me. Why things wouldn’t work out.”

One of the girls from the field shrieked when her father picked her up from behind
and spun her in a circle. Jeremy’s eyes tracked over to them and she watched as, finally,
he let his guard down and showed some emotion. But her throat closed, and she wished
she hadn’t seen the stark longing in his eyes at the scene.

She cleared her throat a little and blinked furiously before tears could even begin
to form. “The thing is, I know you said you couldn’t get involved with someone in
the military. And I didn’t really understand that part.”

He watched her, eyes staring into hers. “My dad’s a retired Marine. You know that
much. But I don’t really talk about my mom.”

“I just thought she wasn’t really in your life much.”

“She’s not. She died when I was really young.”

“Oh, Jeremy. I’m sorry.” Her heart broke for the little boy he’d been, not having
the maternal comfort and love that she’d been so blessed to be brought up by. She
reached out to put her hand on his arm, then pulled back, not sure what he needed.
But he smiled a sad little smile and patted her knee.

“It was a long time ago. I can’t even remember when it happened. I’m over it.”

No, you’re not.
Oh, even a blind man could see he wasn’t even remotely over it. And why should he
be? Even if her mom died tomorrow—which she wouldn’t, Madison thought fiercely—Madison
would have had almost twenty-seven good years with her. Learned from her. Been guided
by her. To lose all those opportunities for love and laughter and learning was a huge
blow. One he might not even know he missed.

“So it was just me and Dad. He never remarried. But even though he was a single parent,
he also didn’t get out of the Corps. The moving part wasn’t my favorite thing ever,
but I survived it. Living on base, not a big deal. But when he was gone…” Jeremy shrugged.
“He was all I had. The other kids, with their stay-at-home moms, or even moms that
worked, it was like their world barely hit a blip. Sure, their dads were gone. But
their moms were still there. Or vice versa. Mom was gone, but Dad was still home.
There was a constant. That didn’t change.”

“What happened with you while your dad was gone?”

“I would move. Again. Go stay with my grandma. She was nice. But older. And it was
hard with the constant coming and going. I was never in her life all the time, so
she wasn’t used to me. And I wasn’t used to her.”

Madison nodded. It wasn’t something she could say she understood. How could she? Her
mother had been the family’s rock during deployments and long separations. They all
leaned on her, even her father, when he was gone.

“So that sucked.” He laughed harshly. “Understatement, I guess. But with all the times
he was gone, I somehow just kept thinking, if he was proud of me, would he leave as
often? The older I got, the more I realized it wasn’t as if he was choosing to go.
But the idea stuck. The habit of making him proud, of doing what I could to make him
want to stick? Never went away.”

“I know all about trying to make your parents proud.” She rubbed his back in soothing
circles, but he barely even moved. His body was still as stone.

“The fact is, if you have two military members who are parents, and they both get
picked to deploy at the same time, then what? Or if they’re put in different bases?
They can’t always guarantee you’d be stationed together. Additional separations. It’s
just not for me.” He shook his head. “I couldn’t willingly do that to a kid. It’s
not like I have to have some Suzy Homemaker or anything. But the dual military? It’s
like asking for something to go wrong. Tempting fate. I just… I can’t.”

“I can understand that much.” She hated to say it, because it just gave him more ammo
to use in keeping them apart. But it was the truth. She did see his point.

“So that’s just something I’ve known. It’s not so much that I don’t want someone who
works. That’s her choice. But, you know…” His lip quirked, indicating he didn’t feel
it was necessary to finish.

She smiled sadly. “So that makes sense. And since I’m not getting out anytime soon…”
No, that wasn’t really accurate to say. It made it sound like she would leave when
her current commitment was up. “I mean, this is it for me. I thought this would just
pay for college, give me a few years’ experience, give me something to sort of laugh
at my dad with. And then I’d be done and find a nice job in the civilian world. Be
a typical nurse who doesn’t have to wear her dress uniform to meetings with her boss
and take physical fitness tests twice a year. But I love it. I don’t want out. I want
to keep going in the Navy.”

“And I want you to.” One large hand covered her knee and squeezed affectionately.
“You should stay in if you love it. So many people don’t end up finding a career they
love.”

She nodded and tried to blink back tears once more, only this time she knew she’d
fail. “That’s not all I love, though.”

His hand froze on her knee. He didn’t turn to look at her, didn’t acknowledge what
she’d said at all. Just stared off into the distance, or as far as the distance went
when there were overgrown trees blocking your view.

Something very small fizzled in her chest, like Pop Rocks, then burned down until
she was cold. Well, she’d known this wouldn’t be easy. Rubbing the heel of one hand
over her breastbone, she cleared her throat. “Are you going to sign those papers for
your monitor?”

His hand slid away, the last bit of warmth seeming to follow. He might as well have
been wearing his sunglasses for all the better she could read his eyes.

“Because if that’s what you want, then you should. I know you want to make your dad
proud.”

His head inched her way.

“I thought for about five minutes my dad would be disappointed in me for joining the
Navy instead of the Marines.”

“Which doesn’t have a medical corps,” Jeremy added dryly, finally speaking.

“Well, yeah. That would be the hitch there, wouldn’t it?” She smiled a little. “But
it was so short-lived. He teased me; so did Tim. But he knew it’s what I wanted and
so he was proud of me for going after what I needed. And if making your dad proud
is what you need, then that’s okay.”

“Is it?”

Madison chewed on her answer a moment. It didn’t seem like a rhetorical question.
“I can’t really answer that for you. I’m just saying, do what you need.” Lord, that
hurt. A pins and needles feeling started in her hands from clenching them into fists
and she shook them out. “I want you to be happy.”
Even
if
it
kills
me, be happy. Please, be happy.

Otherwise, this pain was for nothing.

He nodded again, back to silence. Madison’s cell phone chirped in her hoodie pocket.
The alarm she’d set reminding her she had work in half an hour. Without looking, she
reached in and pressed the side button that would silence the phone’s alarm momentarily.

“I have to get going.”

“Right. Work.”

This, she hated. Maybe Jeremy was right from the beginning. They couldn’t turn back
now, and maybe it was better to have not known at all what it could have been.

Even as she thought it, she dismissed it. Knowing was infinitely better than playing
what
if?
for the rest of her life. But what did he think?

She shifted and watched him closely. “So, we leave this all behind and start over.
As if nothing happened?”

He nodded and continued nodding as if once he started, he lacked the ability to stop.
“Sounds like a plan.”

He was hurting as much as she was. Pair of freaking fools. Though she had no clue
what the alternative was. She wasn’t about to give up her career. And he wasn’t going
to let go of his need to please his father. Pasting on the brightest smile she could
manage, she said, “Friends then. Back to good friends.”

She stood and stretched her back a moment, but Jeremy didn’t move. “You coming?”

“You go on ahead. Unless you need me to walk you to your car.”

Madison scoffed and did a quick once-over. “I’m pretty sure I’ll be safe making it
the whole forty yards to my car. But thanks.” He kept nodding like one of those bobbleheads
on a dashboard. So she leaned over and brushed a kiss on his cheek. “Be happy,” she
whispered and took off at a run down the metal steps, over the grass, and all the
way to her car.

Be happy.

Two short, simple words. For which there was no simple, short answer.

Jeremy turned a little, resting his back against the cool metal of the wall of the
jungle gym and observed the family of three out on the soccer field. The younger girl,
clad in jeans and a sweater with a puffy hat over her head, jumped on her father’s
back, laughing and holding on for dear life. Probably choking the breath out of her
father, but he didn’t seem to mind, if his own laughter was anything to go off of.
The older girl, in track pants and a sweatshirt, dribbled the soccer ball between
her legs, taunting her father by setting the ball near him, then snatching it away
at the last moment.

Of course, he was likely letting her. But the point wasn’t to win. The point was to
spend time with his daughters. Quality time. Time to make them feel good about themselves
and give them the security of knowing there was a man in their life who thought the
world of them.

Jeremy wondered if those girls realized how lucky they were.

Quality times like those had been few and far between in his life. Partly from separations.
And mostly because, well, his dad didn’t “do” the bonding thing. Any important time
together seemed to revolve around his father’s military career, or planning Jeremy’s.

And Jesus. Didn’t that just explain a boatload of issues? He let his head bang back
against the metal a few times. He didn’t have to watch
Dr. Phil
to call this one.

The only question was… did his reasons for wanting to please his father matter, if
he felt the compulsion all the same? And did they matter more than the fact that he’d
clearly put his own happiness second?

***

Skye dropped her bag on their entry table and kicked her shoes off. “Hey, babe, are
you home?” she called out.

“In the kitchen,” Tim replied from deeper in the house. “And don’t leave your shoes
there,” he added, as if he’d seen her with his own magical neat-freak X-ray vision.

“Mr. OCD strikes again,” she mumbled with a smile and scooted them off to the side,
out of the way. As she drifted through the townhouse, the most delicious smells permeated
her sluggish mind. “Oh my Goddess, what is that? Are you cooking?” Rounding the corner,
she reached the kitchen and found the answer for herself.

Tim stood at the stove, wooden spoon in hand, making a stir-fry. He shot her a smile
over his shoulder. “Hey, baby. Hungry?”

“Starving.” She walked over to him, wrapped her arms around his waist, and pressed
one cheek to his warm back. “Working around food all day long when you don’t have
time to eat any of it is akin to torture.”

“Tell that to the boys in SERE school. They’ll give you the real definition of the
word torture.” He pointed to the side counter and a pile of veggies left on a cutting
board. “Leftovers that I didn’t need, if you want a snack to keep you from dying.”

“Thanks.” She really was hungry, but she stayed in position a moment longer. He was
so warm, and she was so tired…

“Hey. Sleeping Beauty.” Tim’s shoulder blade shifted beneath her cheek and she snapped
out of it. “Can you pass me two clean plates?” He waved a hand in the direction of
the cabinet where she had stocked nice, reusable plates rather than the paper and
plastic crap he’d been using until she moved in.

“Sure.” Moving slowly, she reached up and grabbed one, passing it over her shoulder,
repeating the process after he’d piled the first with food. “So when did you learn
to make this? And why haven’t we been putting this hidden talent to good use before
now?”

“I figured you’d want something good after working so long today. Talked to Mom today;
she walked me through it. Said it was one of the easier recipes, and a good meal to
make both meat lovers and veggie lovers happy. I cook mine in a separate pan but use
the same ingredients, just adding the strips of steak. Voila. Everyone happy, minus
the fact that there’s one extra pan to wash.”

“I’ll do it.” She breathed in and made an appreciative sound at the spicy smell. Carrying
their plates to the table along with a bottle of wine, she sank down and immediately
propped her feet in her husband’s lap. She watched his hands as he poured wine into
two glasses. Damn sexy, watching strong hands like that cradle something as delicate
as a wine glass. “So have you seen Madison this week?”

Tim grimaced and took a big bite of steak, which he took his sweet time chewing. Skye
wasn’t fooled. Stalling tactics were a manager’s bread and butter. She’d seen every
trick in the book, and used plenty of them herself. Waiting with a patience she didn’t
often tap into, she eyed him while he chewed, swallowed, and took a sip of water.
When her eyes didn’t leave his, he rolled his own.

“Come on, honey. We’re eating. Do I really have to think about my sister and Jeremy
and their… issues?” He gave her a comical—if a little pathetic—sad face.

“You’re not worried about it? About her? Or them? I haven’t seen Jeremy either, but
I’m thinking he’s not doing so hot either.”

Tim’s face sobered. “He’s been moody at work, more so than usual. Which is saying
something, if you ask me. But I think he’s trying to get with the ‘everything’s all
right’ program. They’ve got their story and they’re sticking to it.” He shrugged.
“They’re convinced they can return back to normal, just friends, hanging out with
the crew, and life will resume as before.”

Skye blew out a breath, shifting the hairs that abandoned ship from her ponytail and
drooped around her face. “And so we’re all just going to play the game of pretend?
Act like they weren’t an item? That’s stupid.”

“That’s their choice,” Tim said, more forcefully. “Don’t even think about it.”

Skye picked up her fork and studied her plate of food. Spearing a slice of bell pepper,
she raised it to her lips before glancing his way. “Think about what?”

“Don’t even think about it,” he repeated.

“I’m not getting involved, I just—”

“Good.” Stabbing at a piece of steak, he used it to point at her, as if trying to
intimidate her with it. “Not our business. She’s my sister. Your sister-in-law. But
we need to stay out of it.”

“Like you did when you punched Jeremy?”

“That was reactionary. And completely different.” Obviously smug that he had an immediate
answer for her, he took another bite of dinner.

“Different, my ass,” she muttered around a mouth full of noodles.

“And what a nice ass it is,” he said, grinning wolfishly at her.

“Cute, really cute. Let’s stay on track.”

“Let’s not and say we did.”

“More cuteness. You’re full of it tonight.” She pushed her plate forward a few inches.
“I just want them to be happy. And if they could use a little help…” She shrugged.
“Isn’t that what friends are for?”

“No. Friends are for buying you a beer when you’ve had a shitty day, taking you shooting,
hiding the body—”

“Not mine, I hope.”

“Goes without saying.” Tim picked up her hand and kissed her palm, thumb caressing
the spot where his lips had touched for a moment. “Friends are not for managing your
life. They’re for standing out of the way and letting you make your own decisions,
and making sure you don’t hang yourself with them.”

Skye sighed and settled back in her chair, the soothing feeling of his caress lulling
her closer to exhaustion. “So we do nothing. Watch them both suffer.”

“They’re not suffering, drama queen. They’re… reevaluating. It’s what we in the military
do after a blow. We step back, reassess, and find a new plan of attack.”

“And if their plan doesn’t include each other?”

“Then that’s their call to make.”

“Damn.” Skye rolled her shoulders and stared at the empty plates and then toward the
messy kitchen. “I promised to clean, didn’t I?”

“You did.”

She slowly smiled. “How about I use my powers of persuasion to distract you from that
fact and let me leave it until morning?”

Tim raised a brow but stood and tugged her into his arms. “As your husband, I have
the utmost confidence in your persuasive abilities. Let’s go give it a shot.”

***

Jeremy thumbed over the top of his pen, clicking the tip on and off repeatedly until
even the noise bothered him. He set the pen down and watched it roll over the unsigned
commitment papers. His time was up. Even he knew that. They couldn’t wait forever
for his answer. Time to man up and make a decision. He placed the tip of the pen on
the signature line, then set it down.

Nah. Not right now. He rolled his chair back. Time to get out for some fresh air.
He could man up after lunch.

Just as he was about to stand, Tim appeared in his doorway. “You’ve got a call.”

Jeremy looked to his desk phone. No lines were lit. And why would Tim know that before
him anyway? “Who?”

“Dwayne.” Walking in without invitation—not that he needed one… the general rule between
them was
mi
oficina
es
su
oficina
—Tim walked around the desk and used one booted foot to push his chair out of the
way. Jeremy rolled for a good three seconds before he hit the back wall, clanging
into the furnace with a jolt.

“Dude. Whiskey tango foxtrot?”

“You pulled this same shit on me when I was being a total jackass about Skye and our
relationship.”

“Marriage.”

“Whatever. Turnabout’s fair play and all that.” A few keystrokes later and Dwayne’s
ugly mug popped up on screen. “We’re here.”

“I thought you said you were going to his office, but I don’t hear him. Where’s the
little shit?” Dwayne drawled.

Rooted to the spot with confusion, Jeremy didn’t budge. “What’s going on?”

Tim rolled his eyes and grabbed the arm of his chair, yanking hard until he rammed
against the desk with enough force to rattle the drawers. And a few teeth. “Hey!”

“Jesus, stop being a woman and get over here.”

“Damn, dude. Stop jerking me around.” Jeremy pushed back a little, childish as it
might have been.

“There he is. Now I hear that idiot.” Dwayne leaned back, hissed out a breath, and
settled a little more comfortably in his chair. “Now. Tell Uncle Dwayne all your problems.”

Jeremy flipped off the computer screen.

“He can’t see that; you don’t have a webcam,” Tim reminded him.

“Flipped me off, didn’t he?” Dwayne asked, eyes lit with amusement.

“Yup.”

Dwayne chuckled, completely unphased. “Amateur stuff, bro. Now, do you wanna tell
me what’s the deal with Madison?”

Jeremy glanced at Tim’s deceptively lazy posture, leaning back against his desk like
the answer didn’t matter at all to him. “Not really.”

“Let me rephrase the question. Tell me about Madison.”

“That’s not a question.”

“You city boys and all your fancy English grammar,” Dwayne drawled harder, sounding
like a caricature of an old-fashioned Southern gentleman. Though he’d be the first
to admit… he was no gentleman.

“Bite me.” Jeremy breathed deeply. “There’s nothing to tell. And how do you know any
of this crap anyway?”

“I’ve got eyes, dude.”

“Not in Cali you don’t. In case you missed the landscape, you’re in the sandbox.”

Dwayne was quiet for a moment, then shrugged. “Veronica told me bits and pieces. Skye
avoided telling me anything. And Madison should never play poker. ’Cause when I asked
her about it, the face said it all, even though she kept mum too.”

“You talked to Madison? When? Recently? How did she sound?”

“Nothing to tell, hmm?” Tim murmured.

“Yeah. He’s lying like a cheap rug, O’Shay.”

Jeremy watched as Dwayne shifted in his seat, a grimace crossing his face. He struggled
to check it, though, the lines across his brow and bracketing his mouth easing quickly
into that familiar smirk once again. “What’s wrong with you? I know the furniture
over there blows, but that’s the second time you’ve made that stupid face.”

He shook his head. “Still sore from the IED hit. I’m fine, just not taking it as easy
as I probably should.”

Just the mention of an IED had ice sliding into Jeremy’s gut. He did a quick once-over
of his friend, heart surging fast before he could calm it down with a silent pep talk.
He was fine. Talking, joking. A little sore. But fine. Damn, these were the parts
he really hated about this life.

“You’re punishing yourself is more like it,” Tim put in, arms crossed over his chest.
“You’re supposed to be resting. You would have healed fully a week ago if you weren’t
dragging your ass around the FOB like a madman trying to make up for something that
wasn’t your fault.”

“Yeah, well, sometimes you don’t have that choice. I was in charge, so the blame falls
to me. That’s how it works.”

“Not with shit like this. You know that.” Tim shook his head, despite the fact that
Dwayne couldn’t see. “You can’t take the blame if the route clearance missed the IED.
It happened. You all came back. Let it go.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t—wait. Why are we arguing about this? We’re supposed to be kicking
his ass, not mine.” Dwayne pointed directly at Jeremy, though how he could have known
which direction to point toward, Jeremy had no clue.

“I’m not supposed to kick anyone’s ass. I’m supposed to stay out of it,” Tim said
mildly.

Jeremy gave him an
are
you
shitting
me?
look. “This? This is what you call staying out of it?”

Tim raised his hands, palms out. “On this I am merely a messenger. The vessel, if
you will. Dwayne wanted to talk to you, so I had to do his dirty work.”

“Uh-huh.” He turned back to the screen. “So talk, big guy.”

Dwayne folded and unfolded his arms, clearly trying to find the most comfortable position
possible, each new possibility met with a scowl. After a moment, he gave up. “Madison’s
as good as my sister.”

“Oh boy, another brother,” Jeremy muttered.