Below the Belt(40)

“Aspirin,” he said with a grim smile, and held up his hand. His pinky was a little swollen, though nothing bad. She grasped it and prodded tenderly. He’d live.

“Don’t you have any at your place?”

“Ran out, can’t make it back to the commissary tonight before it closes.”

“Fine. Here.” She bent over to dig in one of the storage drawers and heard Brad’s quiet huff of breath. She could only imagine he was wordlessly commenting on her ass sticking up in the air, but she didn’t care. She snapped the drawer shut again and held out some sample packets of aspirin. “Should get you through until tomorrow. But I’m not a pharmacy.”

“Yes, ma’am. Cook,” he corrected, sensing the warning in her own eyes. “I’ll be outside the door when you’re ready, sir . . . Costa,” he said, flushing with embarrassment at the second mistake in as many minutes, then he fled the scene.

“Kid’s jumpier than a flea,” Brad said gruffly. “And nosy. I’ll get rid of him.”

“No, you will not,” she said firmly, taking the papers Levi passed her. He was wearing his backpack, which meant he was ready to go. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Levi.”

“Sure thing.” With one last longing glance at Nikki, he left.

“That one’s barking up the wrong tree there.”

“No shit,” she said simply, then grinned at Brad’s widening eyes. “I don’t use the language often . . . but when I do, it’s more impactful.”

“I’ll say. Maybe I could hear some of that language tonight.” He watched as the last Marine left, with Nikki following him out to gather the leftover cups from the watering stations. “Ask me over.”

“No.” No longer having to keep her voice down, she stepped away from the table and busied herself with filing the clipboard papers for the day. “Not the best idea.”

“Best idea I’ve had in weeks. Months. Probably years.”

“Then your ideas tend to suck.”

He scoffed at that, then stepped down. Closing in on her, he pressed until his front was against her back and the tops of her thighs were pressed into the edge of her desk. “Marianne Cook, don’t be a coward.”

“Coward,” she sputtered, then sucked in a breath when he squeezed her hip with his big hand. “I’m not a coward.”

“You’re avoiding the conversation we’re going to have, admit it.”

“I admit nothing.” It was too close to the truth for comfort.

“A coward and a rebel.” She felt him shake his head, moving her ponytail slightly. “I’m a doomed man.”

He pressed a kiss to the back of her neck and stepped away just seconds before Nikki came back in, lugging two sleeves of unused cups.

“These guys are camels,” she complained. “Can’t they all come to the one water jug down here? Why do we have to have jugs upstairs too?”

“Because I said so,” Marianne said simply as she watched Brad walk out.

Nikki eyed her speculatively. Marianne crossed her arms over her chest and rubbed at her hands. “Is it colder in here?”

“It’s because all the hot beefcakes left. They heated the room right up.” With a grin, she set the cups down and reached under the cabinet for her purse. “See you tomorrow!”

“Yeah,” she said, still watching Brad’s retreating back. “See ya.”





CHAPTER


12


Chalfant dropped Brad off in front of the BOQ, and Brad waved and waited until the younger man’s car was out of sight. Then, sighing, he limped a little to a grassy area and dropped his bag by a bench next to a tree. He’d go inside in a minute. Or two. Maybe tomorrow.

Anything to avoid the third degree from his roommate. Higgs had picked up on way too much, too fast.

To stall, he fished his cell out of his bag and called his sister. She answered on the first ring, because like any other red-blooded American teen, her cell was surgically melded to her hand.

“Brad!”

“Hey, Sarah. What’s this I hear about you being old enough for college applications?”

“It’s crazy, I know. Can you believe I’m all grown up?” She gave a dramatic sniff, then laughed. “I’m about ready to bust out of this place. Tell me, what does freedom taste like?”

“Disappointment, mostly.” She groaned, and he grinned up into the tree limbs above him. “Don’t be in such a hurry to cut loose. Mom and Bob are halfway decent parental units. You have no clue how much easier it is when someone else is doing your laundry.”

Laundry. Ugh. He had a wet pile of it sitting in his room, just waiting.

“Okay, okay, enough about my prison break. How’s the East Coast?”

“Just like the West Coast, only farther to the right.”

She groaned again. “Brothers are worthless.”

“We practice. It’s a fine art. I don’t know, Sarah.” He ran a hand down his face. “More humid, I guess. I’m here to box, not run around sightseeing. I’ve barely been off base.”

“Any cute guys?”

“I’m pretending you didn’t ask that. Because no. Also, no. And for dessert? No.”