Unraveled (Woodlands) (22 page)

"No touching the officers." Sam knew immediately why I couldn’t have beaten the officer like I wanted to. Enlisted men don’t ever touch officers. That was an automatic Article 15 or non-judicial punishment at the very least.

"Right. So I tell this girl that I dated for over three years, the girl I thought about proposing to, that I didn't want to see her cheating ass ever again. I left and got sick drunk and returned to A-stan."

"But that wasn't the end of it."

Stretching out my hand, I threaded a few strands of Sam’s honey-blonde hair through my fingers. It felt like silk, finer than anything I’d touched before. The sunlight made her hair look a thousand different colors. I knew I could stare at it for weeks and not see the same thing. I could barely remember Carrie’s hair, and I knew I hadn’t ever been this fascinated with it. "Nope. The LT sends me an email while I'm deployed, telling me that I better get to the health center because my bitch gave him syph. And that he wasn't the only guy she was fucking while I was gone."

"Is that true?"

"Don't know, but I checked out fine."

We sat there as she took in my sad little tale. I kept sifting through her hair. She didn’t try to tell me that I should’ve given Carrie another chance or that deployments were hard on everyone. She didn’t try to offer any sympathy or, worse, pity. The wound I thought I had re-opened lacked the sharp pain that usually accompanied thoughts of her perfidy. Maybe I’d only had a little poison inside of me and we’d bled it out.

Her hand squeezed mine tight and then she turned and kissed my hand.

“I’ve never been to San Diego. I’d like to visit sometime.”

“You can come and visit me,” I joked but then I realized I was serious. I wanted her to visit me. I wanted to stay connected to her in some way.

“Maybe I will.”

I wanted to change the subject and talk about something other than cheating girlfriends, dead husbands or the Corps. "Tell me about your knitting."

She told me about how a widow from the Yarn Over Knitting Club had reached out to her after Sam's story was told in their local newspaper, and how she hadn't wanted to go but her therapist thought it was a good idea.

"You still could have stayed home," I pointed out.

"I don't think my parents would have let me. I had moved out of my condo when Will and I got married but then after he died, I didn't do a very good job caring for myself so I had to move back home for a while.”

The thought of a grieving Sam not feeding herself made me sick to my stomach and I curled an arm around her and brought her closer to me. It was strange but when she talked about how much she loved Will, that actually made me feel better. Like she was different and that she would've been faithful, unlike so many other women I knew. And men, too, I guess. The military didn't foster fidelity. Even though there were rules against it, adultery and cheating ran rampant through the Corps. It was almost expected that one of your comrades would sleep with your girl the first chance he got. If you didn't get cheated on, it was like you hadn't been tested in battle. I didn't know how other people started trusting enough to start up another relationship or maybe they just knew going in that they were going to cheat, that their partner was going to cheat and that they just lived with it.

I didn't want that. I wanted a relationship, but it could wait until I got out. Or when I was done deploying for long months. I just didn't believe that any relationship could survive long separations, but here was Sam. She'd stayed true to her husband while he was training in Alaska. She'd been true to his memory long after his death. If there was ever a girl that could be true, maybe it was Sam. I pulled Sam up from her seat and tucked her into my side.

I hadn't lied to her when I said that I didn't cuddle, so having her warm body snug against mine without the urge to flee, when we weren't enjoying some post coital glow, was weird. A good weird, but it was definitely hitting different nerves and neurosensors in my brain. I liked it. There was something really relaxing and almost comforting just holding her as the waves of the water slapped gently against the boat. It was so good that I just drifted off to sleep.

Samantha

“D
ID
YOU
SEE
THE
BIG
piece of green felt in my condo? It hangs above my sofa."

"What's it for?" Gray's words sounded slurred and drowsy like the heat was lulling
him
to sleep this time.

"An afghan I was knitting. The felt holds the yarn pieces up so you can stare at the pattern. It's a flag but I'm supposed to do a technique called intarsia and I really suck at it so I haven't finished the star part." Gray fell asleep as I was explaining how intarsia knitting techniques had stymied my ability to finish my flag afghan, and I wasn't even the tiniest bit upset that he did. Gray often had a hard time relaxing. His eyes were always roaming around as if he was trying to identify all potential targets. His story about how he'd been cheated on hurt my heart. I wondered if he knew he was still grieving that.

Oh, he wasn't grieving the loss of his girlfriend so much as the betrayal of that trust he'd given her. And his sense of justice was offended too. He was over there in the dust and danger of Afghanistan making a huge sacrifice and she and an officer weren't even trying to match his sacrifice. He was so hurt he was holding himself apart. His friends with benefits situation sounded awful. The girl he slept with treated him like a human vibrator? That sounded too terrible for words. And yet, he not only pursued this setup, but was proud of it in some weird way.

That he wanted to have sex with me was out of character but in a good way, as if he and I were both stretching outside of our comfort zones because something we wanted was just out of reach.

Eve was right. I realized that now. Will's death had broken my heart. Actually, his death hadn't just broken it. For a while I thought my life had been buried with him. And like I told Gray, I only knew how to do serious relationships. Casual sex didn't sound appealing. It took me a while to get used to having sex with Will, which told me that based on my physical reaction to Gray, I must have a few feelings for him. When he was holding me and I could feel the deep rumble of his chest against my own body, I wanted to sink into that. And the body that I thought was too muscular when I first saw him in the bar had become a source of constant fascination. When he'd rowed us to the middle of the lake, I couldn't stop staring at the way the muscles under his skin undulated and flexed.

The light dusting of hair had felt wonderful against my breasts. Will hadn't had a lot of chest hair but Gray not only had hair around his chest but there was a lovely trail that bisected his stomach and led the eye downward. I'd heard Eve call it the treasure trail and it did beg for me to do some exploring.

And his erection. I smiled a little to myself, glorying in some heretofore unrealized feminine power, but Gray was erect around me a lot. His heavy cotton cargo shorts didn't hide it, and neither did the swim trunks he'd worn during the slip and slide party.

But it wasn’t just his physical power that attracted me. It was fun to talk to him and to do things like going out on a boat and pretending to fish. Gray watched out for me, too, always making sure I had enough to eat or drink. There was a tenderness in his gestures, a sweetness too. Carrie had been a fool, but I wouldn’t be.

A
FTER
THE
FISHING
TRIP
, G
RAY
and I were inseparable. He’d call or I would. May wound into June and each day brought us closer together. When I wasn’t working or he wasn’t off doing something with his friends, we’d meet up for a hike or just to play catch in the park. I wasn’t very good at it, but he never complained. I started to get to know his friends and was excited to find out that some of them were currently enrolled at Central. All my high school friends had either graduated already or had never gone to college so it was a relief to know that I’d see at least a couple of familiar faces on campus in the fall.

I’d fielded one awkward phone call from Carolyn who asked sad questions about this guy I’d been seen spending a lot of time with. A friend, I’d told her.

“A male friend?” she’d asked plaintively.

“Yes.” I’d packed up most of the stuff around the condo but the felt still hung on the wall. I needed a damn ladder but I wasn’t about to ask Tucker for one. Maybe I’d hit up Adam for real this time, not just as an excuse to see Gray.
Besides,
I thought, a little giddy,
I didn’t need an excuse.

“I hope you’re enjoying yourself.” Her voice turned sharp. “I’ve been at home looking through Will’s letters. I just can’t believe it’s only been two years since he’s been gone.”

My memories of Will were fading and I hadn't realized how much until I met Gray. Will had been such a big part of my life that at one time I felt like I was losing pieces of me. For so long I'd been a part of the unit that was Will and Samantha. I hadn’t been able to move on because my future had always been as part of that unit. Everyone I knew identified me as Will's girlfriend, Will's wife and then Will's widow.

“I’ll always miss him but…” Looking down at my ring, I started tugging and it slid off like my finger had been buttered. Palming it, I spoke more forcefully. “He’s not here anymore.”

Carolyn started crying and usually that set me off, but not this time. “I’m sorry. You should talk to Tucker.” I’m not sure if she even noticed I hung up. I texted Tucker right after to call his mom and then I shut the phone off. I went upstairs and pulled out my jewelry case. I didn’t have much. There was a pearl necklace my parents had given me when I was sixteen and a watch that my grandmother had gifted me on my graduation from high school. There were a few pairs of earrings and a couple of bracelets. I wore none of it other than a pair of gold hoops I never took out. I slid the ring inside, shut the lid and then kissed the box. I loved Will. Some part of me always would.

But it was time.

Out on my deck, I soaked in the sun and finished up the cap, sweater, and tiny booties, all in ivory alpaca yarn. Making baby items was one of my favorite crafts—and not just because the projects were a lot quicker to complete. I loved the soft yarns, the tiny booties, and the idea that some of my items were the first thing that a new human being ever wore.

I had started ticking off the days left in Gray’s visit. My chest would get tight when I thought about him leaving. July was fast approaching. Ever since the fishing trip, I'd had different fantasies, imagining attending class with him. Holding hands as we walked across campus. Eating together in the cafeteria. We’d both be older students, and so we’d talk about how no one around us makes any sense, only we make sense together.

One night he appeared at the bar without Adam or any of the other guys. He just showed up.

“When are you on break?”

“Maybe ten minutes? The band has two more songs in the set list.”

He leaned over and kissed me on the forehead and then spent the next ten minutes downing two waters. “Driving,” he explained when I asked him.

Eve’s eyes were wide but she didn’t say a word. When the band finished its last song of the set, she pushed me out of the bar saying that she’d be fine. Gray took me by the hand and led me inside, down the hallway and into the storeroom.

“It occurred to me,” he said as he knelt down between my legs, “that I’d made some promises I never delivered on.” I was so glad I was leaning against the door because otherwise I would have fallen over.

His rough fingers and mine made swift work of my shorts. When I was nude from the waist down, he lifted one leg over his shoulder. “Lean against the door, baby. Your knees are going to get weak.” He was smug when he said this, but why wouldn’t he be? I was coming two minutes later.

“One more time,” he said, kissing my inner thigh and rubbing the heel of his hand against me softly while I convulsed around his fingers.

This time both my legs were over his shoulders and he held me up with just one palm. He used his other hand to spread my lips and spear me repeatedly with his tongue. I felt the abrasiveness of his evening stubble against my super-sensitive skin. The only thing I could do was hang on. I dug my hands into his hair and clenched him tightly with my thighs, but he never complained that I hurt him. If anything, my eager response turned him on because he half growled, half laughed against my skin.

My heels thrummed against his back as my second orgasm swam through my bloodstream, setting fire to my nerves. It was sensory overload, and I sobbed out my release when I climaxed. Lowering me to the floor, he hugged me close, making sure that he didn’t release me until my shaking had stopped and I could stand on my own, although I felt as wobbly as an infant.

“Shit hot in the bedroom, right?” He winked.

“And the storage room,” I muttered weakly. Wickedly, he licked each of his fingers clean and I almost had another orgasm right there. When I reached for him, though, he danced away.