Welcome to Forever (12 page)

Instead, Micah had done six months in pre-flight classes before he was even allowed to set foot in the large aircraft. As soon as he had, he'd felt that unparalleled surge of adrenaline. The Marine Corps had never been his dream, but a new dream took hold of him when he sat in the pilot's seat that first day. He did another three years after pre-flight before he was actually considered a pilot, and he'd suffered more than a little ridicule from his good ol' dad during that time.

Colonel Peterson was waiting for him when he pulled up. Parking, Micah took a deep breath. He loved his dad, but sometimes, most times, he didn't like him very much.

“Hey, Dad.” Micah waved and headed in his direction.

“It's Colonel Peterson when you're on the job. You know that. And where's your uniform?” his father asked in the brisk manner that he'd always used to communicate with his only child.

Micah slid his sunglasses over his eyes and avoided the question. “What do you want?”

His father's lips tightened. “Walk with me,” he commanded.

“I already did my PT today. So if it's exercise you're after…” Micah contained a grin as his old man's gaze slid over. A lot of grunts would go limp-kneed at the look, but Micah had learned a long time ago that his father was all smoke and mirrors. And while Micah was usually anything but a smart-ass—that was much more Lawson's style—he enjoyed smart-assing his father.

They didn't walk far. Just to the edge of the fence, where there were several straight-backed and uncomfortable-as-hell metal benches. They sat in silence for a long moment. Micah recognized this maneuver, too. He'd gotten the silent treatment a lot as a child, expected to squirm as he wondered what was going on. Not now. Micah was a grown man, and he really didn't care what his father's opinions were anymore. All he cared about was the fact that he was missing dinner with his son right now in order to be here at his father's beck and call.

Slapping his hands on his thighs, he glanced over. “Well, this was great, Colonel. If that's all you needed—” He started to stand.

“It's time you moved up in rank,” his father finally spoke. “I hear you didn't take the classes required to qualify you for a rank change last month.”

Micah shrugged. Yeah, he'd been a little busy last month designing gardens that had made grown men weep. “That's right,” he said, not feeling the need to justify himself. He slid his sunglasses back over his eyes instead, and crossed a foot over one knee.

“You'll take the required trainings and apply for rank next month.”

His father didn't say as much, but Micah recognized an order when he got one. He'd been taking orders his entire life. Tightening and relaxing the muscles in his jaw, he nodded. The alternative to agreeing with his good ol' dad's order was telling him where he could stick it. And then admitting that he wouldn't be reenlisting next year, so upping rank wasn't exactly a priority. Micah wasn't ready for that battle of wills just yet, though. Not while he was still in the planning stages—building his client list for landscaping and pulling off exhibits like he'd done last week. His father was a man who was…effective at getting his way, and Micah didn't want to leave him any room to crash his plans.

“Well, if that's all, sir.” Standing, Micah offered a sarcastic salute, which could've just as easily been his middle finger going up. Then he headed back to his Jeep, hating that he hadn't told his father where he could go with his hard-ass orders. Micah had made a calculated move, though, just like the military had trained him so well to do. His father had won this little battle, but the war was definitely going to be his.

Kat's stomach turned at the mention of Mayor Flowers being on the other line.

“Thanks, Val. Put him through.” She plopped down in her black leather office chair and sucked in a deep breath. The mayor was just a person, a parent like any other. She'd simply explain that Seaside Elementary was cracking down on misbehavior this year, and no student was exempt.

“Principal Chandler.” The mayor's voice was deep and smooth. She imagined him wearing the plastered smile that politicians wore as he sat behind his cherry desk, paid for by the good citizens of Seaside. “I hear we have a problem.”

She grabbed the stress ball from her desk drawer and squeezed. “We do, sir. But as I told Mr. Markus, two weeks and your daughter is free to go back to her normal after-school routine.”

“You see, Ms. Chandler…” the mayor began.

Kat noted that the “principal” title had been dropped.

“That's the problem,” he said. “Kimberly has sports she has to attend to. She can't be held behind with a bunch of, shall we say, less-than-honor-student children, to pick up litter and do gardening. I'm sure you can see why a man in my position couldn't have that.”

Kat closed her eyes, squeezing the ball in her hand until pain seared through the divots in her knuckles. “When you enrolled Kimberly here, sir, you told me that you wanted her to be treated like everyone else.”

“And I do, Katherine.”

Now her last name had been dropped, too. Next, he'd be calling her Kat.

“How about I make a generous donation to support your little effort? The Friendship Club, is it? I'm sure you could use some monies to help the kids out. Does five hundred dollars sound sufficient?”

Kat's mouth fell open and she dropped the ball on her desk, then she looked up as someone knocked on her door. The person behind it didn't wait for her to reply. He just slipped in.

Micah.

She held up a finger, silently asking him to hold on. “That's very generous of you, Mr. Mayor.” And part of her was doing the math. Five hundred dollars could buy new equipment. They could even build a greenhouse. And she'd always been interested in doing a recycling program at the school. She could start by having the after-school kids organize it.

The mayor chuckled. “Good. I'll have my assistant—”

“But the answer is no. Sir, this club is making a difference in these kids' lives, on school property and off. I know it is. And your daughter means too much to me as a principal to let her get away with treating others with disrespect. This is the period in her life when her moral code is being developed. The lessons she learns here, as a student at Seaside Elementary, will influence who she becomes as an adult. If she doesn't serve her time in the club, she can't play sports. That's my decision.”

Kat locked eyes with Micah. The world was spinning and he was her focal point.

“I see.” The mayor cleared his throat, his tone of voice sharpening dramatically. She could no longer hear the plastic smile behind the receiver. “That's a shame, Kat,” he said. “I was hoping we could work this out civilly.”

“I hope you understand.” A sick feeling crawled through her stomach as she listened.

“I do. I understand that you're the youngest principal to ever work at one of the Seaside schools. There was a lot of talk about whether or not you were up for the job when you came on. Personally, I think it was the sympathy vote that got you into office. Everyone knows the story about you and your fiancé.”

Her throat tightened so much that her hand actually went to her neck to pull the loose fabric of her shirt away. “Maybe that's true, Mayor Flowers. But hopefully it'll be my professional achievements that keep me in this position.”

Micah took a step closer, his brows lowering with weighing concern.

“We'll see,” the mayor said. “Have a good day, Katherine.” And with that, the line went dead.

With a shaky hand, she set the phone back in its cradle. For a long moment, she was afraid to move, afraid to talk, to look up and meet Micah's dark eyes.

“Everything all right?” he asked, moving around to her chair. He reached out a finger and gently tipped her chin upward, forcing her to look at him.

With eyes burning, mostly out of anger, she shook her head. “I think…the mayor just threatened my job if I don't let Kimberly off the hook.” Now her entire body was shaking.
Damn it.

Micah pulled her into his chest, wrapping his strong arms around her. “You did the right thing,” he whispered.

And she knew he was right. She
had
done the right thing. “But what if—”

“Doesn't matter,” he said, as if he knew what she was going to ask. “Honor, courage, commitment. That's what a Marine stands for. I'd say you just showed all three of those qualities.”

She pulled her head back to look at him. Then she watched numbly as he dipped his head closer to hers, hovering at her lips and waiting for a signal that she wanted him to.

And hell yeah,
she wanted him to.

She clutched his T-shirt and pulled him the rest of the way, moaning slightly as his tongue lunged into her mouth. His hands caressed her mid-back, then traveled up and around the curve of her breasts.
Oh, God,
she really wanted him to. Her body ached as his kisses lowered to her neck and then to the slight cleavage at the top of her blouse. Good thing he'd closed her office door behind him. She wanted him to unbutton her blouse. Wanted his mouth to cover her breasts. Wanted him to—

The phone buzzed on her desk. Kat's eyes snapped open, locking on Micah's. The machine buzzed again. Reaching over, she pressed the call-receive button. “Yes?”

“Kat?” Val's voice blared into her office. “What happened with the mayor?”

Kat cleared her throat. She'd have to kill Val later.

“And is Mr. Peterson still in there with you?” Val asked.

Micah removed his hands from Kat's body and straightened as Kat pulled her clothing back into position.

“Yes, he is,” she said, unnerved by the shaky quality to her voice. Val would know exactly what was going on in here. Val always knew. Her brain was wired toward romance and sex.

“What are you guys doing in there anyway?” Laughter played in her friend's voice.

“We'll talk about it tomorrow night, okay? Over chips and salsa.” Kat pressed the hang-up button and looked at the dark hunk of muscle in front of her. She had no intention of confessing anything to Val. Not yet. Whatever was developing between her and Micah was private, and she didn't need anyone else's opinion about what should happen next.

“I, uh…I'm sorry.” Concern etched itself on his forehead.

“Sorry?” Her smile evolved to a small laugh. “I was just about to thank you.”

“If you want my opinion,” Val began.

“I don't.” Kat dipped a tortilla chip in a small bowl of salsa at the center of the table. “But tell me anyway.”

Val smiled. “Take the money from the mayor and move on. Kimberly Flowers will always be a spoiled brat as long as she's under those people's roof.”

Those people, meaning the mayor and his wife.

A waiter stood at the end of their table and cleared his throat. “Are you ladies ready to order yet?”

Val's gaze traveled over him, making no attempt to hide her inspection of his young, athletic frame. “Are you on the menu?” She giggled a little as his cheeks darkened. “I'm just teasing you, honey. You're way too young for me.” She pointed at an item on the vinyl menu. “I'll have the chicken enchilada special.” She closed the menu and handed it back to him.

“And you?” The waiter turned to look at Kat.

“I'll have the same.” She handed her menu to the man and waited for him to leave before continuing. “I considered taking the money. More to save my job than to appease anyone. But I can't. John was the one who convinced me I could do this job. I wasn't going to apply for principal, but he said that I was a natural born leader. He had faith in me.” She took a shuddery breath. “Just before he went on deployment, one of the last things he told me was that he believed I could lead this school and make a difference in those children's lives. If I backed down with Kimberly…” Kat circled her finger around the rim of her glass. “I don't know, I feel like he'd be disappointed in me somehow.”

Val's eyes held that sympathetic slant.

“I know he's dead. You don't have to remind me,” Kat said. “But I still feel him, like he's watching over me.” Now, instead of sympathy, Kat saw worry in her friend's eyes. “And I'm not crazy, either. I just want to make him proud, even if it means losing my job.”

Val reached across the table and grasped her hand. “You know I love you, but I will
never
understand you.” She smiled, her usually teasing eyes only full of kindness now.

“I love you, too.” Kat stared at their interlocked hands and then at the solitaire diamond on her finger. “Did I tell you that I have a date this weekend?” she asked, changing the subject.

Val pulled back and bounced on her seat. “No, you didn't! I knew this was coming. Details. I need details. I haven't gotten juicy details about your sex life in over two years.”

“And you're not getting any now, either. I said date, not sex.”

“Same thing.” Val waved a hand. “Where is he taking you?”

“The Veterans' Center.”

The look of sheer disappointment nearly made Kat spew her soda across the table in laughter. “It's my night to volunteer. He said he'd love to go. He's bringing Ben, too.”

Now Val looked like she might start crying. “You're going on a date to play bingo with a bunch of old men and a child? I had much greater hopes for Micah Peterson than that.”

Kat laughed at her friend, and then took a sip from her soda. “He might've pressed me against the desk in my office yesterday and kissed me, too.”

Val was bouncing again. “Now we're talking.”

Kat spared some of the details. Like the fact that she hadn't been able to think of anything other than Micah's hand on her breast in the last twenty-four hours. “You have to promise to keep this just between you and me. I don't want it getting out that I'm seeing a student's parent. Or someone that works for me, for that matter.”

Val held up two fingers. “Boy Scout's honor.”

Kat lowered her brows. “You're not a Boy Scout.”

“You know what I mean. Of course I promise. The last thing I need is for you to get fired and old Dora Burroughs to take your place.”

Kat reached for another chip. “You'd be in the unemployment line standing right next to me. Our current assistant principal would never keep you on.”

Val feigned insult. “I'd never give her a chance. I'd pack my stuff right along with you. We're best friends, right?”

Kat nodded. “I'm so lucky to have you in my life. You've been with me through a lot of hard times these last few years.”

“Maybe I should come this Friday and be with you for some more good times. I could spy on you and your date.” Val used her fingers to place imaginary quotes around the word date, making Kat laugh.

It probably did sound lame, but the truth was, she'd be happy to go anywhere with Micah right about now. And keeping to a non-date kind of situation was less likely to gain unwanted attention from people who were looking to tear down her reputation. Like the mayor. Volunteering wasn't date material. It was innocent.

No one had to know about the less than innocent thoughts tramping through her mind.

When dinner was over, they walked together to the parking lot.

“Thanks for buying dinner,” Val said, veering toward her car. “I'll get yours next time. You might be unemployed by then, so…” She winked as she ducked inside her little coupe.

Kat waved. “See you tomorrow, bright and early.” She climbed into her own car, her body feeling like lead, and headed home to find Julie asleep on the couch with an old black-and-white classic playing on the television. Kat sat down beside her and turned off the TV.

Julie stirred as she did. “Hey, I was watching that.”

“Yeah. I can see that.” Kat smiled.

Julie's eyes cracked and then her face scrunched as if the light was eating her alive. She flipped her body restlessly to face the back of the couch and pulled her blanket over her head.

Guilt gnawed at Kat's stomach as she flipped the light switch. If Julie were going to be staying for an indefinite amount of time, she'd need a real bed. Maybe this weekend, Kat would finish cleaning out the master bedroom, change the sheets, and open it to Julie. Just the thought made her entire body tense, which pissed her off a little. It was just a room, no big deal. Or it shouldn't have been.

Standing, Kat glanced back at her sister one more time and then headed down the hall. “Good night.”

But Julie was already breathing hard, sleeping like a log, the way she always had. It was nice to have someone else in the house—not quite so lonely. Not that she'd ever considered herself lonely. She had Val. And other friends. Her co-workers. And now a sister, who deserved better than a couch.

Kat nodded to herself as she passed the master bedroom, promising herself that this weekend she'd do better. It was time to make space for new things in her life, new people. Micah crossed her mind and her heart kicked hard. New beginnings.