Jace heaved a sigh. Damn Deuce and his inability to keep his mouth shut.
Paul continued talking. "I mean, if things don't work out, you're stuck." He grabbed his stress ball from underneath his pillow and rolled it back and forth. "You sure about this?"
Jace nodded. "I'm sure. Been thinking about this for a while, Jag. It's time. Woman or no woman."
Jaginski leaned back on his elbows, dropping the ball on the bunk. "Then okay. You gotta go where your heart takes you."
Jace barely kept his mouth from dropping open. "Jag, you've never struck me as the type to credit the heart with leading anyone anywhere." Finished with his rucksack, Jace grabbed his formal blues and put the protective covering over them.
Paul grinned. "Look, I might follow my dick, and you know I love walking on the wild side of life, but you're different, Jace. You like stability. It's why you've been such a drag lately. Re-up time is just around the corner, and you have to figure out if you're in or out." He sat up again. "The base posting gives you a chance to stand in both worlds for a while. I get it."
Jace shook his head. "No, Jag, you don't. Right now, my life is upside down. I crossed a line not long ago, and even if I wanted to stay on the other side, too many people will get hurt."
Paul rose. "You know, Jace. I do get it. The whole reason you're all bent about this is
because
you're a standup guy, not the shit human you seem to think you are. Why do you think we all look up to you?"
Jason frowned. "I didn't know you did." He zipped the plastic cover and reached inside his locker for the last odds and ends.
Jagger snorted. "Hell, yes, we do. And you know what, Jace? Sometimes having something tilt upside down provides a new perspective. Try looking at it that way, okay?" He started for the exit. "And hurry up. We're all gathered and ready to send you off." He undogged the hatch and stepped over the threshold.
A little stunned, Jason blinked and shook his head. Who knew Paul Jaginski would end up giving him something to think about on the long transport flight back planet-side.
Chapter Eleven
Chloe waited two days before contacting Marc. She might have her answers, but she also wanted to be steady and strong when she broke things off. Once she placed the call, she did busywork around the flat, putting the trash out, straightening the cushions on the couch, counting the minutes it would take for Marc to arrive.
His key sounded in the lock, and she dropped a stack of videos on the shelf and went to greet him. He leaned in for a kiss, and she set the tone by brushing her lips over his cheek.
Marc's shoulders slumped, but he followed her into the living area. "Was glad to hear from you. I hope the couple of days gave you time to get things settled in your head. You doing okay, Chloe?" He dropped down on the sofa and settled back against her recently straightened cushions.
She opted to sit across from him in the overstuffed chair. "I'm good, Marc. And yeah, the distance helped me make some decisions."
Marc leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "And?"
She hated the fact she'd destroy the hopeful look on his face.
But she plowed ahead. "I asked you what you pictured for us in five years, do you remember?"
He nodded. "Yeah, I remember."
She glanced down, unable to meet his gaze. "When I picture the future, Marc, I don't see you. And I'm sorry, but I can't marry you." She twisted her fingers together, trying to fend off the tension burning in the room.
Marc got up and paced back and forth. "Who do you see, Chlo? Because it has to be someone or this wouldn't be such a big deal."
Her head jerked back and forth. "Uh uh. There doesn't have to be anyone. It's enough I don't see us." The burning gnaw of guilt started boiling in her gut again.
Marc stopped. "Where did we go all wrong, Chloe? Where did I go wrong?"
She met his gaze. "You didn't, Marc. We're not at the same place anymore, and I want something different for the future. I didn't know it until you wanted to get married."
Marc sat back down. "So where does that leave us?"
She rose. "The lease on the flat is in my name, but we'll get it transferred over. It makes sense for me to move to housing on base." She couldn't quite bring herself to officially break things off.
Marc snorted. "Look, it'll take a while for that, Chlo. Winnow's got an extra bed. I'll crash with him until you get it settled." He rose and grabbed her hands. "And if you change your mind…"
She shook her head, fighting to keep tears back. "I won't, Marc. I can't."
He squeezed her fingers and moved away, grabbing his keys from the counter. Chloe followed him, a headache starting along her temples.
Marc turned when he reached the door. "You're sure there's no one else?"
Chloe sucked in a breath, hesitating a moment, but shook her head. Marc narrowed his eyes but opened the door and stepped outside in the bright sun. Chloe closed the solid wood surface behind him and pressed her forehead against the warm panels.
Already the gnawing pit of pain started to fade. And the heavy weight of indecision no longer rested on her shoulders. That had to mean something, right?
* * * *
Jason let himself into his apartment and dropped his rucksack inside the door. He'd filled out more paperwork in the last twenty-four hours than he could remember doing in the decade or so since he'd finished basic training. Temporary duty assignments didn't have near the amount of red tape a permanent transfer had.
Walking through the apartment, he grabbed the phone and placed a quick order at his favorite ethnic food place. A hot meal in twenty sounded damn good. Hanging up, he checked inside the fridge and smiled when he found it fully stocked. He'd used the wireless service to schedule a delivery, then contacted his neighbor to see if he'd let them in. Since Jace spent so much time away, he'd given the guy a spare key in case of an emergency. Check that, used to spend so much time away. He'd better get used to calling his apartment home.
He went back for his rucksack and unloaded it, putting most of his fatigues in the laundry bin and stowing his shower kit in the bathroom. He had supplies left from his last weekend home—the one with Chloe—so he wouldn't have to run out for anything. Since he didn't report to base for his first shift until after the weekend, he planned to kick back, relax, and figure out how and when to contact Marc and Chloe about the change of station. Wouldn't take long for news to filter throughout the base or to hit his brother and… Chloe.
Dammit. He had no idea how to approach either one. Marc didn't even know Jace had the apartment. One big reason kept Jace from sharing the information. Marc had a seriously bad habit of 'your house is my house' syndrome. If Jace gave his brother access, Marc would most definitely take advantage. Jason had no problem imagining the horrifying mess he'd come home to after Marc invited his platoon over for card and beer night. No way did Jason ever want to pick up after one of his brother's shindigs. Chloe put a stop to Marc's game night six months into their relationship.
Chloe.
What the hell should he do about her? He wanted to remain friends, but he honestly couldn't say if they'd ever quite get back the easy camaraderie. The thing with Marc would probably always stand between them.
Doubt about transferring reared its ugly head, but Jason's takeout delivery provided a welcome distraction. He watched a video while eating, then cleaned up and got settled in with some work. He pored over tech programs until his eyes crossed and crawled into bed just after midnight.
He'd figure out what to do about everything in the morning.
He hoped.
* * * *
Chloe got a jump-start on packing, burning through a ton of nervous energy. She'd have to start the paperwork first thing when she reported to work. Marc hadn't been far off. A month ended up being the standard turnaround time to get into housing on base. Chloe figured she could get it down to three weeks. She had a few favors she could call in. The sooner she got settled in somewhere else, the easier time she'd have getting her shit back together.
And figure out if facing Jace would ever be worth it. When he heard she and Marc had split up, he'd probably go off on a tangent. He'd have to get over it. Even if Chloe never admitted her feelings for Jace, she couldn't and wouldn't marry his brother.
Not now.
Chloe yawned and checked the time. Damn. After two am. She made up the guest room in the flat and grabbed a long, hot shower. Slipping between the cool sheets, she pondered what she'd say if she ran into Jace. They'd inevitably bump into each other at some point. Flight instructors and test pilots often worked in tandem.
Punching the pillow a few times, she settled down and got comfortable. Eyes drifting shut, she figured she'd worry about Jace later. She let out a sigh and gave into sleep's call.
Chapter Twelve
A loud pounding roused Jason from a deep sleep. He threw on last night's fatigues, stumbled to the door, and yanked it open—ready to rip someone a new one.
He never got the chance.
A sucker punch hit him square in the face before he could utter a word. But, oh, his head made a nice crunching sound when it snapped back to hit the door.
Not exactly a great wake-up call.
He shook off the hurt and let out a pained moan. "God damn." Jason blinked to clear his vision.
The starbursts behind his eyelids didn't want to go away. But Jason wanted to get a look at his attacker. And maybe offer up some defense if another fist came flying his way.
Finally able to focus, Jason got a look at the guy who packed a wallop.
Marcus.
Fuck.
Only one thing could've put the majorly pissed off look on his sibling's face.
Chloe spilled.
"Look, Marc." He'd explain. Tell Marc nothing existed between him and Chloe. Assure him that yeah, they almost crossed a line, but it didn't truly mean anything.
Face his brother man to man and take whatever Marc dished out.
Jason tried to say all that, but the words didn't want to come out.
He flexed his jaw. "I—" What? Why couldn't he say his brother's girlfriend meant nothing to him?
Marcus pushed his way into the apartment and kicked the door closed. "Shut. Up." He crossed the living area and stopped in front of the large window looking out over the well-tended landscaping of the courtyard.
Jason blew out a hard breath. "How'd you know where to find me? I just filled out the paperwork yesterday." And no way had it been processed yet.
Marc turned. "I put a call in to the
Nimichellen
. Wanted to talk because I asked Chloe to marry me." He paused and inhaled deeply. "Imagine my surprise when I find out my brother isn't aboard the Nimmy. That he'd transferred to a base right here." Marc walked away from the window and crossed back to face Jason.
Jason fought to keep last night's dinner down. "So, you popped the question. Congratulations are in order then." He moved into the living room and sank down on the sofa.
Marc snorted. "Oh, no. We'll get to that. Let's back up to when your pal Deuce asked me if I'd tried reaching you at the apartment? I mean, why wouldn't he ask that? We're brothers, right?" Marc shook his head. "I didn't even know you had an apartment, Jace. But hell, there you are, listed in the phone directory on base. And knowing it now… makes everything crystal clear."
Jason's stomach roiled again. "Clear, how?" He had a sinking feeling and didn't like it.
Marc turned around and paced the floor. "See, Deuce got a page and he handed the comm off to Jaginski." Marc sneered. "Your man, Jagger, gave me the full rundown. About how you transferred back because you met a woman." Marc stopped and finished. "The only problem? She's taken. Isn't that right, bro?"
Jason closed his eyes and sighed. God damn Jagger's big mouth.
Marc snorted. "Well, guess what? As of yesterday, the lady is free and clear."
He dug deep into his pocket and yanked out a velvet box.
Their mother's ring.
Marc threw the box—hard—at Jason. "She's all yours, big bro." He crossed his arms over his chest. "You just can't leave 'em alone, can you?"
Still stuck on the free and clear part, Jason shook his head. "What?"
"My girlfriends."
Good God. How long ago had that been? Marc sure liked to hold a grudge.
Jason scoffed. "That was junior high, you idiot."
Marcus raised a brow. "That matters how? I loved her."
Jason checked the urge to thwap his brother upside the head. The guy had chosen the wrong profession.
"You should take to the stage, Marc. You've got the drama thing down cold." Jason flopped back against the cushions.
He had a feeling Marcus had several more acts to get through.
Marc snarled. "Fuck you. I'm pissed."
Jason got up. "And you should be. But geez, don't compare twelve-year-old hormones to what you feel for Chloe. It's insulting."
Marc moved to stand across from Jason, the coffee table separating them. "Right now? I feel jack all for her."
Jason frowned. "If that were true, you wouldn't be pissed." Sometimes, Marc and reality didn't see eye to eye.
"'Scuse me? I sure as hell would. Bad enough when a friend betrays you.
You're
my God damned brother."
Christ, Marc had him there.
"I know! And I suck. I get it, okay?" He lowered his voice. "But you can't deny you love Chloe."
Marc jerked his head. "Can you?"
Oh, no way would he fall into that trap. "Can I what?" His head started aching, probably from the earlier fist to his nose.
Marc made a frustrated choking sound. "Deny you love her."
Jason opened his mouth to do exactly that. Then he snapped it closed. Did he love Chloe?
He'd thought he could. He felt drawn to her, but he'd never ruin his brother's happiness. Marc and Chloe could weather the storm.
Marcus waited for an answer.
Jason sighed. "Look, I could easily fall for her. But love?" He forced the words out. "I don't think so, bro."