American Bad Boy: A Military Romance (5 page)

“Sir?” A small hand tugs on my sleeve, stealing my attention. I look down into the face of a little girl, her round cheeks covered in freckles and her broad, gap-toothed smile. “Sir?” she repeats.

“Yes?”

“Can I take a selfie with you?” She blinks up at me and I can’t help but smile.

“Sure kid. What’s your name?”

“Bethany,” she beams at me and holds a cellphone up to me. The crowd is starting to have more brave souls cross the barrier ever since the first guy jumped over. I don’t have time to take pictures and sign a hundred sheets of paper. But, I’ll make time for this kid. I quickly hold the phone up and we both smile up at the screen as I click our picture. Bethany squeezes my hand excitedly as I hand her back the cell.

“Thank you, sir. I can’t believe I got a picture with you. Thank you!” She smiles and reminds me of candle lit jack-o-lanterns on doorsteps in October.

“No problem,” I smile back before looking back up into the sea of people for the one person I recognized.

I search through the faces, eagerly looking for her, but Lauren is no where to be found. I must need more sleep than I thought. These late nights are catching up to me.

Whatever, give your head a shake. You’re not here for her. Besides, with the look Lopez is giving me, I know I’ve got bigger fish to fry than wondering about some old girlfriend.

Now if I could just get my eyes to stop searching for her in the crowd and my heart to stop beating her name.

But, yeah, besides that. Totally over it.

W
hy am I standing here
? I told myself I was gonna wait this out in the staff room until someone dragged me out from my feeble attempt to hide behind the curtains or something. Instead, I’m out here with all the other “Captain America” groupies and fans.

Like Mack is just some guy I know from watching news footage of him kicking a grenade across the sand. Like I’m just another cheap girl in a crowd of cheap girls, trying to be noticed. Like we don’t have real history. Like we don’t have real love.

Didn’t have, I mean. Of course we don’t still have love. When he left me for West Point ten years ago, I was left wondering if we ever did.

I look over at the ladies in the hoard of people and instantly regret my stupid decision to not wear make-up today. I wanted to look professional, not like I was trying to get a date. Next to these girls I look like a corpse with my dull skin and my hair in a simple bun. I smooth my hands over my uniform and fold my arms around my body as I watch Mack push his chair toward the front doors.

Suddenly some idiot jumps over the barricade and moves toward Mack. When he stands up to greet the guy, everyone around me erupts into fervent cheering. Like he’s some kinda rock star.

More like a cock star. If the stuff I found out on the internet about him is even half true, he’s gonna sleep his way through the women in this crowd two or three at a time. Not that I’m stalking him or anything. Just checking up, that’s all. Besides, from the look of these women, I don’t think they’ll mind being Mack’s toy for a night. There’s so much cleavage being thrust toward him; I’m surprised they aren’t begging him to sign their boobs with a sharpie by now.

It’s not like I care, but it’s just kinda skanky if you ask me.

Now that Mack’s standing, I can see his tattoos smothering every inch of his arms. There’s some sort of flowers etched across his neck, peeping out from under his tight shirt. Not exactly the young man who left Colorado after grad.

Only Mack Forrester could lose his leg and still swagger back into my life and make my heart stop.

Tattoos or not, I remember what every inch of that hard body looks like naked. My pulse pounds in my ears and heat rises in me like mercury in a thermometer. I don’t mean to let my eyes drift over his cut biceps and down over the pronounced ripples in his shirt announcing his glorious abs to the world. It’s not like I want to notice the curve of his tight ass and the bulge of his ….

I snap my eyes back up to his face and he’s staring right into my eyes.

I.Can.Not.Breathe.

The air hisses from my lungs as I’m caught in the hypnotic trance of his blue eyes. So, I guess not that much has changed after all. The old feeling of butterflies erupts inside my chest, and even though their wings must be coated in dust after lying dormant for so long, they feverishly flurry around my heart.

I’m sure it’s only a second. Hell, it’s probably less than that, but I swear I can see an eternity in his crystal blue eyes. The moment of recognition that turned to lust and then, something deeper and truer than that. It’s like the roadmap of our past being playing out in a single glance. When he finally looks away and I remember to actually fill my lungs again, I realize there’s a part of me that hopes it’s the roadmap to our future as well.

Part of me, all of me. Who’s keeping track, right?

A firm hand on my shoulder nearly makes me jump out of my skin. I stifle a yelp as I wheel around to face Shannon. Somehow I manage to keep my eyes from rolling. Somehow I keep my mouth from tugging down at the corners. It’s not that Shannon is the most annoying or the most incompetent nurse I’ve ever dealt with.

Oh wait, no, that’s exactly it.

“Sorry to interrupt, Lauren,” her face denies that she’s feeling anything at all. Sympathy or otherwise. “I need you for a second inside.” Her flat, robotic voice has a way of cutting through the noise around me and sucking the jubilation out of the moment.

Shannon. With her flat, bobbed hair plastered against the side of her head and her large, sad eyes she always makes me think of what Eeyore would look like in a nurse costume.

“Can it wait?” I manage to smile and can almost feel my fake happiness being sucked into the black hole that is her personality. “I have to give the tour in ten minutes.” I jerk my thumb over my shoulder to the scene behind me and she looks up like she’s just noticed the hundreds of people and cameras for the first time.

“No, sorry. I need you to sign off on Mr. Brookfield’s discharge papers or he won’t be able to leave in time to get to the airport. His wife is getting all upset. It’ll probably take less than ten minutes though.” She throws a bone of hope at me, but I know it’s a lie. Nothing in nursing takes ten minutes. However, there’s not much I can do. I knew I had to get that paperwork finished up this morning, I guess I just got distracted.

I glance over my shoulder one last time at my distraction. I’m normally diligent about crossing my t’s and dotting my i’s, but I think given the circumstances that forgetting Mr. Brookfield’s papers is understandable. A group of young women start screaming like teen groupies, as if to confirm my story.

I look back into Shannon’s dead eyes and sigh. “Ok, let’s go.”

“
A
nd if you look out
, across the field there, you’ll see our outdoor track. Now that spring is here, I’m sure you’ll put it to good use with your program.” Dr. Galt smiles quickly at me and then holds his smile painfully for the cameras flashing around us. “But, since it is Colorado, you always have the option of the indoor track if we happen to get a freak snow storm in June or something,” he chuckles at his own joke, the same joke he told when he gave us a tour of the inside track about twenty minutes ago.

I smile politely and try to pay attention, but damn it these nurses aren’t making it easy for me. I can see that as the chief of medicine here, Dr. Galt is very proud of his facility. And he should be. It’s top notch. From the indoor, Olympic sized pool and the state of the art physio equipment, he has every reason to wanna show it all off. There isn’t a surface that isn’t gleaming or a face that isn’t smiling. It’s just that my eyes are having a tough time paying attention to the shiny surfaces when there’s just so many sultry smiles to focus on.

Every time I wheel through one of these stations, there’s another piece of ass in a nurse’s uniform giving me a wink as she runs her tongue over her lips, giving me ideas about what else she can do with that tongue and where else she can wrap those lips.

With all the media here, it’s no surprise that all the ladies are looking their best. With their hair perfectly styled and enough make-up on that they look like they might be strippers dressed as nurses instead of medical professionals.

However, I know that it’s really for me.

As if to confirm it, whenever a camera is rolling around them, the ladies are textbook class and professionalism. And as soon as the media strolls on by, the tits pop up and they start looking at me like the hungry kittens they are. Not that I mind. I’ve just gotta make sure I’m a bit more discerning with the ones I fuck at this place.

After almost a year in rehab at the military facility in Maryland, I had nurses practically clawing each other’s eyes out when I spread myself too thin. This time I’ve gotta try to avoid the drama and be a bit choosier. Besides, I’m only supposed to be living here for a couple weeks and then I’ll be doing the outpatient program during the day and going to my own place at night. That should make it a little easier to keep the ladies warming me up under the sheets under wraps.

Parsons looks like he’s enthralled by the tour, ignoring all the easy pussy around us and hanging on the good doctor’s every word. I’m surprised he doesn’t have a little notepad out for jotting down the highlights from how interested he appears. Lopez, on the other hand, is scouting out the pickings, giving me raised eyebrows and tiny nods each time we turn a new corner and come across more tits and ass.

“If you’ll follow me, down to the left,” Dr. Galt interrupts the unspoken conversation between Lopez and I, directing us down another hall, “over here is where you’ll find your room.”

Finally! My attention fully snaps back into focus as I wheel behind Galt to see my new quarters. A sparkling rehab center is all well and good, but if they’ve got you stuffed in a broom closet with a bed, then none of it matters. Not that I’ll have a problem breaking in the bed, even if it is in a broom closet.

My fears are quickly quelled when I follow the Dr. into the sprawling room. The bed looks comically small in the expansive space. With a leather couch against the wall and a huge tv mounted across from it, it’s clear that this room isn’t in a military facility. With the view of rolling hills out the window and the massive bathroom with a soaker tub and a walk in shower, I feel like this could be a suite at the Hilton, not a room in a hospital.

The camera crews and news anchors easily fit inside the space, carefully capturing my expression and the details of the décor for the five o’clock highlights.

A sweet little brunette in a pencil skirt and heels clicks her way across my room and sways her hips on over to my window. She acts like she’s interested in the view, but I can see from how she’s popping her heart shaped ass that she wants to make sure I’m the one soaking in the sights. Give the lady what she wants, that’s what I say. I’m here to please.

“Captain, do you mind if Phil gets some footage of you checking out your room? I think the viewers will really be happy to see you looking settled in.” She turns around from the window and smiles warmly. Her camera guy shuffles across the room and points the unblinking lens in my face, waiting for me to “act natural”.

I push myself up from my chair and strut across the floor, closing the distance between her and I. Her heartbeat is visible in her collarbone as I brush past her and quickly look out over the mountains and lush grass outside. I can hear her breathe in sharply when I turn on my heel and saunter over to my bed, sitting on the edge carefully.

“Looks … comfy,” the brunette locks her eyes on me and I can’t help but smile at her flushed cheeks.

“It is.”

Dr. Galt clears his throat loudly and the news anchor jumps like a kid trying to sneak back into their parents’ house in the middle of the night. I don’t bother turning around to face him as he tries to direct the crowd out of the room. Why would I look at a middle-aged, balding man when I can rest my eyes on full set of tits and hips?

“If all the members of the media would follow me, I’ll take you to the conference room where I can answer any questions you may have about our facility,” he urges.

The brunette looks at me and then over at the doctor, like she’s not sure if she really has to go or not. However, she snaps out of her spell and makes her way back out the door with the rest of them.

“It’s about time you showed up,” I hear Galt scolding someone quietly. “Captain Forrester, I apologize, I know you’re probably ready to settle in after a long day, but I’d like to introduce you to the nurse overseeing your program here. This is Nurse Brickman, and she’ll be responsible for your care while you’re with us.”

I stand back up from the edge of my bed and instantly freeze on the spot.

The room is empty now, except for my military entourage and the remaining medical staff. There’s no more flashing cameras or stripper nurses distracting me.

Yet, I still feel like I’m in some kind of dream, because standing in the doorway is a perfect vision from my past. Fixing me to the spot with her mahogany eyes is the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen or ever will see.

My voice catches in my throat as I soak in the way the light radiates from each angle of her face. Highlighting her cheeks, making her kissable lips glisten perfectly. I want to run across the room and pick her up. I want to kiss her, to wrap my arms around her and never let her leave my side again. I want to throw her down on this bed and fuck her until we both forget our names and the time that’s passed between us.

Instead, I’m stuck to the floor, staring. Somehow I manage to open my mouth. Somehow words tumble out.

“Hi, Lauren.”

“
H
i
, Mack.”

Is there an oxygen tank in this room? I might need someone to grab me a mask. On second thought, isn’t there a defibrillator in the hall? I should get Dr. Galt to go grab that for me.

Speaking of the boss, he gives me a scowl for showing up late. His gaze softens like butter when he looks over my shoulder out into the hallway where the journalists are congregating. I can tell from the way he’s looking at them longingly that he’s not going to waste his time giving me a lecture right now.

Even though the crowd outside and all the news anchors showed up today for Mack, it’s easy to see that Dr. Galt has been soaking this up like it’s his moment. Wait a minute, I squint at his normally pale face, why does he look darker? The chief can usually drop planes out of the sky with his blindingly white skin, yet now he looks like he’s actually gotten some sun. I see the telltale line of orangey-beige badly blended into his thinning hairline and realize he’s either gone out and gotten a spray tan for his big moment under the spotlight, or he’s wearing make-up.

I prefer to believe it’s a spray-tan. Even if his hands are still practically translucent.

“Do you two know each other?” He flickers his eyes over my face quickly and then darts them back over my shoulder to the crowd waiting for him in the hall.

Mack opens his mouth and I stitch it shut with a single look.
Nope
. This isn’t time for confessions.

“Yeah, we went to high school together.” I quickly answer, heading off whatever is percolating in Mack’s brain.

“Oh, good. Good. Ok. Well, uh, Nurse Brickman will go over your schedule with you. If you have any issues or questions, you can get a hold of me any time.” He spits out the words quickly, as he watches the reporters like a kid who’s desperate for his parents’ attention.

“Ok, thank you. I appreciate the tour, Dr. Galt.” Mack walks across the room and shakes his hand. My boss can barely find the enthusiasm to move his arm up and down a couple times before he abandons the handshake for the closest thing he’s ever had to fans outside the door.

Mack’s military escorts shake his hand and clap him on the shoulder before leaving us alone together.

Suddenly the biggest room in the hospital feels like it’s folding in on itself as the space between us seems to disappear.

Space, time, distance. It’s funny how your heart can so quickly forget the very things that ripped it in half.

I’m not sure if I want to kiss him or slap him, maybe both. Either way, I want an excuse to touch him.

“What?” I ask. I know that cocky smirk, like he just heard a punchline that he hasn’t bothered to share yet.

“Brickman? Seriously?” He covers his smile with the palm of his hand and I realize slapping him would definitely be the better option.

“Yes, Brickman.”

“You got married?”

“I did.”

“To Joel Brickman?”

“That’s the one.”

“Do you have kids?”

“One.”

“You got married and had kids with Joel fucking Brickman? Come
on
! I mean, I know when I left town there was slim pickings, but your science partner?” He rolls his eyes.

“At least Joel was there for me. Unlike some people.” I snap at him. “Besides, you shouldn’t speak badly about the dead.” I rub the empty spot on my ring finger, regretting my decision to put my ring in a safety deposit box a couple of months ago. I told myself that it was time to stop wearing it when the anniversary of his death snuck up on me.

“He died?”

“Yeah, that’s what that means.” My words are tinged with frost.

The twinkle extinguishes from Mack’s blue eyes and his smirk settles out into a line. “How? I mean, I’m sorry to hear that. He was so young!” I can see him trying to connect the dots.

“Yeah, he was hit in a head on collision. It was instant.” My voice is flat and quiet, yet the words feel too loud.

“I’m sorry.” Mack steps toward me and I hate to admit how much I want to throw my arms around his neck and nuzzle my head into his chest. How much I want to feel him run his thumb over the back of my head and to hear his voice tell me that it’s all over now. That all the hardship, the heartache, the confusion, they’re all in the past and that he’s here to take away all my pain.

Instead, I step aside and walk over to the window, putting the space between us that I need in order to get my head on straight.

“I’ve been following your story. You know, like on the news and everything,” I confess to the glass, taking a deep breath. I turn around and let myself get lost in his eyes once more. “I’m sorry about the men you lost, Mack. And about what you’ve been through.”

His eyes flicker and for a moment he goes somewhere else. Somewhere far from Colorado. From me.

He shakes his head slowly and his eyes focus as he clears his throat. “Thanks. I’m just happy to be home now.”

“I’m happy you’re home too,” my voice cracks. Damn it. “I, uh, I’ve got a great program outlined for you here,” I stuff my hand in my pocket and pull out my phone so I can bring up his schedule. “I know you’ve been working hard on walking again, and I can see you’ve put in the hours with how well you’re doing.”

My mind snaps into nurse mode and I force my emotions back down my throat and bury them deep in my gut. “But, I’m gonna get you running again. By the time you’re finished here, you’ll be living the same as you did before the …” I don’t want to call it an accident. I saw the footage, just like the rest of America, and it wasn’t some kind of tumble that took Mack’s leg.

“Before I mistook a grenade for a soccer ball? I always get them confused. It’s all those little octagon shapes on them. Practically identical.” he jokes and I smile back at him, happy to let the awkward moment go.

I look down at the screen of my phone and see that my son’s school has been calling and texting me.

What the?
I scroll through the messages, piecing together the situation. Perfect. Just perfect.

“Everything ok, Lauren?” Mack hovers near me and I can smell his scent. The little hairs stand up on the back of my neck as I breathe him in.

“No, I’m sorry, but I’ve gotta go. Crap.”

“What’s going on?”

“Chris, my son, he just got suspended from school. I’ve got to go pick him up. Is it alright if I go over the program with you later?”

“Yeah, sure. Of course.” Mack waves his hands at me. “Go deal with your delinquent kid,” I know he’s joking, but the comment hits a bit too close to home. He has no way of knowing how much Chris has been acting out since Joel died. How he’s fallen in with a crowd that keeps me up at night sick with worry. How I pray to God to show him the way out of this darkness before he ruins his life.

“Thanks, ok, I’ll probably be back in a couple hours and we can go over it then.” I start walking toward the door.

“No problem. Hey, if you need good old Captain America to do a public service talk with your boy, swing him by here sometime. I’ll straighten him out for ya,” he smiles.

I nod politely and bite my tongue. As I walk toward the door I don’t tell Mack that a sit down with him might actually be the best thing for him. After all a heart-to-heart between a boy and his father can probably do a world more good than anything I can pass on to him.

Especially when his father is a famous, American war hero.