Chloe paid the cab driver to wait while she collected her stuff from the guest quarters on base. She crawled back inside and gave him her home address. Easing back, she closed her eyes until the car pulled up to the curb to let her out.
Chloe settled with the driver and walked up the sidewalk to the home she shared with Marc. She wanted to mourn the loss, then felt stupid… because what had she really lost? Not a damn thing. Other than her head for one insane night.
Yet Jason would keep his word. He had too much honor not to do so. Marc would never be the wiser or know anything even happened. Exactly what she wanted, right?
It bothered her she didn't know for sure.
* * * *
On the flight to the next base, Jason pondered an engagement between Marc and Chloe.
Could Chloe really be the one for his brother? Or did Marc just think the time had come to settle down and get married? Jason wished he knew because the idea kind of boggled his mind.
Marc might stick with one woman at a time, but Jason honestly wondered if he had it in him to go the long haul in a marriage. And Jason really hoped he didn't feel that way because of what happened with Chloe.
Jesus, he hated himself right then.
Hated that he'd betrayed his brother. That he'd probably do it again under the same circumstances. Chloe might not be Jason's typical 'type', but God… he wanted her. Even now, knowing she could soon be wearing their mother's ring.
Geez, he sucked. On so many levels.
Thank God he had to leave for the next leg of the exhibition. And he couldn't wait to get back on the
Nimichellen
where he couldn't possibly reach out to Chloe or come into close proximity to her.
The night before hadn't been enough. Jason doubted it would have been even if they'd had full-blown sex. Just the small taste he'd had left him wanting more. If he'd actually entered her, sheathed himself in her hot center, Jason had a feeling he wouldn't have been able to let her go.
But Chloe couldn't be his. He believed her when she said she loved Marc. The way he figured it, she'd been a little skittish about the idea of wedded bliss so she had gone on a bender. Once Marc actually asked her to marry him, she'd settle in with the idea, and they'd have a good life together.
Maybe he should he have called her? Checked in before leaving and attempted to make sure they were still cool as friends? And hell's bells, would he always feel weird about talking to her now?
He opted to let things lie for the moment. He'd leave it alone, leave Chloe alone, and expect to congratulate her and Marc on his next trip back to visit them.
And the bitter taste in his mouth? Well, he'd blithely ignore it. What else could he do?
Chapter Five
Chloe lay awake, staring at the ceiling. Marc's deep, rhythmic breathing didn't seem to be enough to salve her wounded soul. She just couldn't sleep in her usual position, cuddled up next to him. Couldn't even bear the thought at the moment.
That night had been the first night their schedules had them home at the same time. Marc had been back for three days, and after asking about the bruise on her face and being satisfied the other guy looked worse, he'd started dropping hints about a surprise for her. Her stomach churned at the idea. She'd have a huge gaping hole in the lining pretty soon if she didn't get her shit together.
She cursed her stupidity. Hated her brain and wanted to tear out her traitorous heart. Something had to give, and Chloe feared it might just be her sanity that ended up suffering.
Because the worst of the worst had happened. She'd just had sex with Marc and spent the entire time thinking about Jason, seeing his face, reliving the night she'd spent with him. By the time Marc emptied himself, Chloe had a litany running through her head.
I cannot be with the wrong brother
.
But her gut told her different.
Clutching at her offending mid-section, Chloe rolled over to her side, fighting back a wave of nausea.
Did she really think she belonged with Jason? Or did the idea of a lifetime with Marc just freak her out?
She couldn't be in love with her boyfriend's brother. Except she sorta thought she might be. Or maybe she didn't feel as strongly for Marc as she should. When the hell had it happened? Forget that, how could she have let it happen?
She wished she knew… because she truly hated herself right now. And she had a feeling the other shoe would drop soon. Marc wanted to order in tomorrow and have a nice, quiet dinner together.
He never did that.
He'd spring the surprise that wouldn't really be a surprise, and she'd have to answer. What could she say? What should she say?
Yes
?
Oh, Marc, I'd love to marry you
.
Marriage? What in heaven's name are you thinking?
That one probably hit closer to home than anything else.
Gee, Marc. I'd love to marry you, but I sorta have this thing for your brother
.
Argh!
The urge to heave overwhelmed her, and she bounded out of bed and hit the bathroom running. Bending over the toilet, she emptied her stomach into the bowl and flushed with a shaky hand. Turned the water on and splashed her face. Sank down to sit on the hamper, pressed her cheek to the cool tile surface of the wall and closed her eyes.
She had to get a grip. Needed to get out, away from Marc, and think. Figure stuff out.
She stood and rinsed her mouth out. Exited the bath and made a detour to her dresser. She yanked open a drawer, pulled out a shirt, and shrugged it over her head. Movement from the bed made her freeze mid-reach for a pair of shorts.
Marc's sleepy voice cut through the sudden quiet. "Chlo? What're you doing?" He yawned and sat up.
Chloe grabbed the shorts and slipped them on. "Can't sleep. Going for a run." Thank the universe she often took to pavement when she fought insomnia.
Didn't stop guilt from grabbing hold and biting down hard at the half-lie. Marc flopped back down and mumbled a good-bye. Chloe dashed out of the bedroom and jammed her feet inside her shoes. She snatched the entry key, tucked it in her zippered shirt pocket and wrenched the door open. Once outside, she gulped in a deep breath of fresh air and quietly closed the heavy slab of wood. The contrast between interior and exterior spiked Chloe's consciousness to a calmer state. Less toxic, more breathable, and no walls to close in on her.
The noxious atmosphere shouldn't touch Marc. She started down the road toward the park, away from traffic. She knew the trails forward and backward and wanted to let her brain wander until things straightened out in her head.
She ran hard for an hour, cooled down for two. Didn't come up with any definitive answers. But she decided to let things play out and follow their natural course.
She owed Marc a chance, wait and see if he actually proposed, or if she'd had a major freak out over nothing. Her so-called feelings for Jace could be a result of the meltdown, a way to have some kind of exit strategy backup and nothing more. If she and Marc were meant to be, they'd be okay. If they weren't meant for the long haul, well, she'd know soon enough.
She stood outside the door, more in control, and slid her key into the slot. Twisted the knob and expected to enter a darkened foyer. Instead, she found the apartment lit up, and Marc sitting at the table, dressed in full kit, with a steaming mug of coffee.
Chloe toed off her shoes. "What's up?" She passed Marc's rucksack on her way to the kitchen. "They call you out for maneuvers?"
A reprieve after deciding she'd stick it out? Chloe didn't know whether to laugh or cry.
Marc drained his mug. "Yeah. Two weeks, rough terrain, armored vehicles." He rose and grinned. "All my faves. Except for the two weeks part." Crossing to the sink, he set his mug inside and leaned down to drop a kiss on top of her head. "Rain check on dinner in, okay?" A car honked outside, and Marc snagged her lips for a quick kiss. "There's my ride. Gotta go." He headed for the door, grabbing his rucksack on the way. "Love you, Chlo."
He scrambled outside so fast she didn't get a word in. He acted like a kid on holiday. Shaking her head, she walked through the apartment, shutting off lights. She'd straighten up after a long, hot shower. Marc always left the place in shambles when he had to leave on short notice. Okay, he tended to make a mess regardless.
If she went TDA—temporary duty assignment—to another base, she'd invariably come home to dishes, an empty fridge, and piles of laundry. She didn't consider herself a domestic goddess, because she did her share of cluttering up, too. An image of Jace's pristine apartment flashed in her mind, and she shuddered against it. Time for that shower… maybe a cold one.
* * * *
Jason sat eating a half-decent breakfast at their last stop before heading back to the ship. Coffee, orange juice, toast, and almost perfect scrambled eggs. Usually, they had an overcooked rubbery quality or a watery consistency that made Jason want to heave. Today's light and fluffy version made him wonder where the base found their cook and if he could be bribed to transfer to the
Nimichellen
.
He'd never get so lucky.
He stuffed another forkful in his mouth, closed his eyes, and savored the bite. Lost the moment when Doug Euceks dropped down across from him, banging Jason's knee under the table. He swallowed the mouthful and glared in his wingman's direction.
"Jace, man, where the hell have you been?" Deuce lowered his voice. "Had one too many hangars last night. We coulda used you to keep things even." He picked up Jace's OJ and helped himself to a healthy gulp. "We're going back out tonight. You in?"
Jace wondered which one of his mates let the groupies know where to find them. Had to have been Jagger. The shit. And that meant their time after the show wouldn't be free and clear either.
Jace had zero desire to balance things out anymore. "Not interested, Deuce." He finished off his eggs and washed them down with coffee. "Not really feeling it right now."
"Dude. What is up with you?" The other pilot took another big drink from Jace's glass. "You haven't been right since we left the Nimmy. What gives?"
Jason heaved a sigh. "Nothing gives, Deuce. I'm fine."
Deuce shook his head. "No, you're not." He rose from the seat. "But you can brood in peace. I'm gonna catch some rack time before tonight." He drained the last of the orange juice. "Let me know if you change your mind."
Jason nodded but didn't reply. Didn't have to. Deuce would run interference this weekend.
Maybe he
should
go with the guys. Get drunk. Get laid. Walk away. Burn the memory of Chloe's skin sliding against his out of his mind. If he didn't do something to get that out of his head, he'd go insane.
His fingers itched to call Chloe, but he wouldn't. What if Marc answered? He and his brother didn't talk much when Jace shipped out or Marc deployed. What excuse could Jace use?
Gee, Marc, just calling to see if Chloe answered
.
Why would you do that, bro
?
Oh, you know, because I'm totally and completely insane
.
Right. Jace couldn't call. He'd promised to keep Marc clear.
He needed to forget about her. Forget Chloe. Focus on what he wanted from the future. Hopefully, once he got back to the Nimmy, he'd be able to shove the self-loathing aside long enough to figure it out. Because he'd been too distracted after the night with Chloe to even consider his options.
Rising from the table, Jace dropped his tray at the wash station and headed for the simulator. He'd probably think of nothing but Chloe and how much he wanted her, but hating himself had started to feel like his normal state lately.
Chapter Six
Marc's two weeks of maneuvers would end in two days, and after making her choice, she now waffled with indecision. She hadn't come up with any easy answers. She couldn't shake the gut churning feeling of being with the wrong guy. She pretty much hated herself. And Jace, too. Damn the man for being at the same bar she'd picked.
She needed to talk to someone and wished she could have face time. But her closest friends were deployed at the moment, so not exactly possible. Made it very easy to let herself off the hook since she'd be emailing or talking on a comm system. No visual recriminations possible that way.
Heaving a sigh, she placed a planet to ship call for Janie Garnet. She listened to a static-filled connection while she waited for her former bunkmate from basic training to answer the line. They'd taken very different paths since they'd graduated, but their friendship held up over the years. Janie would listen to Chloe whine about her drama, then tell her to get her shit together.
"Garnet on the comm. Go." A loud crackle followed Janie's greeting.
Chloe spoke up over the noise. "Janie, it's Chloe. Wow, horrible connection."
"Chlo. What's up? You okay? Tell me you're not in hack again."
The line cleared a little, and Chloe grinned. She'd called Janie one time to bail her out, and her friend loved to remind Chloe on a frequent basis.
"No, I'm not rotting in a brig somewhere… but I probably should be." Or maybe a padded cell would be better.
Janie snorted. "What? You didn't kill anyone, did you?"
Chloe snorted. "No, but I did something really, really stupid, and I have no idea how the hell to fix it."
Another burst of static crackled over the line. Chloe held the phone away from her ear until she caught Janie's voice coming through again.
"Shit, this connection sucks balls." More static followed by an apology. "I'm sorry, sweetie. What can I do to make things better, Chlo?"
Chloe sighed. "Just tell me to get over myself and deal." The horrible connection would make the call a short one.
Janie chuckled. "Okay. Get over yourself and deal." She paused a moment. "Seriously, Chloe, are you all right?"
Chloe huffed out a breath. "Yeah. It's a little crazy right now, but I'll be fine. Thanks, Janie."