Forgive & Forget (Love in the Fleet) (17 page)

She spent the next couple of days brainstorming a list of carefully thought-out questions for Captain Amerson and then a list of where she would head next. Air Ops? Medical? The Galley? Maybe Combat? Or maybe she’d go down in the hole to Engineering? She was already envisioning a compilation tape of the best of the interviews by the end of the cruise, which would look awesome in her portfolio. A sampling of everyone from the CO to the newest seaman recruit. What a terrific boost to her career this was going to be.

In the meantime she had to find time to get down to Sick Bay and maybe get some vitamins or something. Her job was exciting, but she felt run down all the time. Probably from working twelve hour days and not getting enough sleep with jets taking off at all hours of the night. Initially she’d slept better after telling Philip the truth, but it had been almost two weeks since they’d talked and he still hadn’t made any kind of contact with her. So now she slept fitfully again, worrying.

He hadn’t asked to see her and talk in Palma, even though they ended up on the same liberty launch to the beach. He’d totally ignored her. She wasn’t able to get off the ship in Greece and wondered if he had, but he hadn’t mentioned any chance of talking there either. She missed him with all her heart, but she said she’d do whatever he wanted. And no contact was apparently what he wanted. Maybe he needed more time, or maybe he was truly through with her.

Oh, well. His loss. Just wait until he saw how awesome the broadcasts were going to be with the interviews tucked in at the end. She reminded herself it was up to him to make the next move, so she’d just focus on her job and the new project. With everyone watching all the way through to see who’d be highlighted at the end of the broadcast, she’d have another jewel in her crown when she hit the broadcast world. If only she had a little more energy.

Philip was still furious, but damn it, he missed her. It seemed as if she was everywhere these days. Was it because he still loved her or because she moved about the ship freely now? He cringed each time he saw her, because there were always men with her.

She had to turn guys away while running on the treadmill, browsing in the store, or walking laps on the flight deck. He’d ended up on the same liberty launch with her headed to shore in Spain, but he didn’t acknowledge her and she showed no sign of recognition. Hallie seemed to truly be letting him call the shots. She owed him that much after what she’d done. Trixie continued to bring scuttlebutt down in the hole each morning, but it was obvious she knew nothing about Philip and Hallie’s relationship. Thank God for that.

One day Philip walked into the ship’s store to get a birthday card for his mom. He noticed Hallie across the space, surrounded by three pilots in flight suits—obviously finding something they said to be very funny, because she threw back her golden head and laughed. Jealousy wrapped around his gut and squeezed. So much for her not liking attention from men. And what happened to her being allergic to flight suits? Hopefully she was too blinded by the jet jocks to notice him there. How could he leave without her seeing him? One lone engineer in a pair of blue coveralls and BCGs.

But she did see him. Hallie excused herself and slipped over next to him in the card racks. There were no words as they looked through the selection. Philip’s nerve endings tingled when he inhaled her sweet, fruity scent. Lemons? With a side of coconut?

He briefly flashed to that day on the sailboat when she’d driven him insane with the sunscreen. He could never quite put his finger on her scent. All he knew was he wanted bury his face in her neck and hair and smell her up close and personal this very second, but he didn’t so much as flinch.

Finally, without looking up, Hallie said, “Looking for something for your sweetheart, sir?”

His hands stilled. He, too, kept his eyes on the card he was holding. “I don’t have a sweetheart, McCabe. How about you? Looking for a card for your sweetheart?”

“Apparently I don’t have one either, sir.” She continued to shuffle through the cards. “But yes, I am looking for something for a guy who I wish was my sweetheart. Unfortunately, they don’t appear to make any ‘Sorry I fucking slayed you’ cards.”

The corner of his mouth tried to tip up, but he forced himself not to laugh. “I’m surprised you don’t have a sweetheart, McCabe. Seems there are thousands here to choose from.”

“But there’s only one cowboy I want in my rodeo.”

Philip’s breath hitched in his chest, but he didn’t give in. He was still pissed from watching her laugh so naturally with those aviators. He looked at her now and nodded his chin toward them. “I’m surprised you’d even have time to think about your former sweetheart. Looks like you’re pretty busy these days.”   

Her mouth dropped open and pure, outright hurt radiated from her face. She looked like he’d slapped her. “That’s so not fair. I don’t invite that.”

“You invite it with your very presence,
McBabe
.”

Pain flashed in her eyes right before she executed a perfect about-face and marched out.

Aw, hell. That had been downright rude. Come on. She might have done a huge number on him, but she was never mean.

He selected two cards. One for his mother and another that didn’t matter what it said. He didn’t care. It had butterflies and flowers on it. He took it to his office, scratched out the printed words, and wrote inside.

Sorry I fucking slayed you with my thoughtless comments
.

Then put it in ship’s mail to her.

He was certain that she’d find it humorous, but she never responded. Well, what did he expect? He knew how much she hated the name, McBabe, but that damn green-eyed monster had made him say it.

So he was completely surprised when a few days later he received an email from Hallie marked “Urgent.”

Something horrible has happened
.
Same place
.
2130
.
Please
.
H
.

Philip slammed his hand down on his desk. Shit. He knew it. She was pregnant. He’d done the math in his head the other night and now he knew it was true. Not that he didn’t love her and want to have kids with her someday, but not like this. She would have to leave the ship but they wouldn’t be able to marry until he got home unless he was charged with fraternization and faced charges.

Wait. What if the horrible something was that she’d left his card lying around and Trixie had found it? He knew he shouldn’t have used ship’s mail since anybody could have opened it. He hadn’t signed the card, but what if Trixie knew—no, he was being paranoid.

Maybe somebody else on the ship had done something to her. Had some guy attacked her or something? He’d kill him. Plain and simple. But she wouldn’t have done the news tonight if that had happened. No, she was pregnant. He’d noticed how drawn and tired she looked on the news lately, especially tonight. His engineering brain fast-forwarded to what he was going to do, but all he could think about was the way her father had treated her mother—and he wasn’t going to do that. He’d made his bed and now he was going to lie in it. What had she said on the sailboat that first time and again on the news tonight when she talked about sunscreen? Something about paying later for mistakes you make in your twenties?

Just plain shit.

Philip grabbed a handkerchief. Yup. There’d be tears. And then he caught his reflection in the mirror and saw his heavy five o’clock shadow. Should he shave? Nah. It wasn’t like there was going to be any kissing.

He walked into the library, stomach clenched, jaw tight, heart rate totally out of control. She was already at the table, looking haunted with dark smudges under her eyes. It felt like visiting day in prison as he crossed the room to meet her at a public table. And now she was going to give him the verdict.

Philip pulled out a chair and sat. His mind raced. His heart raced. The next minute could ring a death knell for his career.

Hallie pushed a piece of folded paper across the table.

It was so bad she had to write it down.

He looked at it lying there between them. His eyes flickered up to hers. She nodded toward the paper.

Anxiety coiled in the pit of Philip’s stomach as he opened the note.

Captain Amerson is my father
.

Chapter 18

Philip’s heart started beating again. Hard. His chin dropped to his chest, forcing every breath of air from his body. Then he took off his glasses, laid them on the table, rubbed his eyes, and tried to clear his mind.

Overload.

The initial rush that Hallie wasn’t pregnant was quickly surpassed by the impact of her note. His immediate reaction was that she’d nailed it. Not only the Captain’s eyes—but the eyes of his son, Andy—popped into his head. And when he glanced up at the woman sitting across from him at the table? Those same eyes stared back at him. He’d never have put it together on his own, but he sure as shit would have gotten it on a multiple-choice test.

He knew he had seen her eyes somewhere before. They had haunted him but he could never put his finger on it. The first time he noticed had been right after they’d made love on the sailboat. Probably because he’d recently chatted with the Captain at a party. They had been talking about his son, Andy, who was Philip’s classmate at the Naval Academy. Philip remembered thinking how much Andy looked like his dad, especially his eyes. His cornflower blue eyes, he now realized.

Just like the Thanksgiving dishes.

Philip exhaled another sigh of resignation and held up a single finger telling Hallie to hold on another second. Then he shut his eyes as the facts clicked into place like dominoes. He didn’t understand the Rick part because the Captain’s name was Andrew, so maybe “Rick” had lied to Hallie’s mother, but everything else made perfect sense. Amerson had flown F-14 Tomcats, obviously in the late-eighties. The age would be right. About fifty. He was tall. Well over six feet. And as far as Philip knew, the CO was a classic jet jock type. A player. Handsome, smooth talking, and very charming with the women. Philip had witnessed it at every party at his house, and he knew his son had been. Probably still was.

Assy. That was what he, Nick, and Sky had called Andy Amerson at the Academy. Assy Amerson. Big lacrosse jock, mid-shipman battalion commander, ladies’ man, and now a fucking jet jock himself, and most likely Hallie’s half-brother. If Assy was any indication of how the Captain had behaved at that age, well then there you have it. He’d obviously learned from the master.

Big Assy and Little Assy. The all Navy Father/Son Prick Team.

Philip knew what he wanted to do, which was to walk around the table and take Hallie in his arms, but he had to think of what he could do.

Taking out a pen, he curled his left hand around and scribbled a note.

Fan Room 03-181–10Q 5 minutes

He slipped it to her and then walked out of the library. Now he was glad he had scoped out the fan rooms in a weak moment, just in case he decided they needed to talk. No matter what she’d done to him, Hallie needed him now. Once again in her life, she’d done nothing wrong, yet she was being punished.

It seemed like only a minute before she slipped into the fan room and into his waiting arms. Her tears started immediately.

“Oh, Philip, I’m sorry. I know you told me not to contact you, but I needed you so much. I didn’t know who else to—”

“Shhh. It’s okay. I’m right here. Everything’s going to be all right,” he mumbled into her hair as he held her tightly. God, it felt good to have his arms around her again. But that’s not what they were here for. He pushed back from her, holding her at arm’s length, to support her or to keep her body away from his, he wasn’t sure which. “What’s going on?”

“I found out the Captain’s my father. It was awful.”

“How?”

“I’m starting a new project, interviewing people for the broadcast each night and we decided to start with the CO. So I went up to his cabin today to chat with him before I interviewed him on camera. I had a whole list of questions, but as soon as I saw his eyes up close, I realized they looked familiar and I thought about my mom saying, ‘You have his eyes.’ I mean, I met him on the Bridge for the fly-on, but he was wearing sunglasses. You know, those aviator shades. No wonder I didn’t see his eyes. I remember thinking about his being tall, but I didn’t give it another thought because his first name is Andrew.

“Years ago I Googled all the Ricks and Richards who were pilots in the ‘80s, especially with Irish names, but they either flew the wrong aircraft or were stationed on the wrong coast. But all of a sudden today, I realized my mom might’ve made up his name to protect him, because the Captain’s eyes were just so…and the whole time I was trying to wrap my brain around that, I realized…”

She started to hyperventilate, barely able to get the words out.

He took her by the shoulders. “Realized what?”

Her lips trembled. “That he was looking at me like the other guys on the ship do. He was…”

Fresh tears.

“Son of a bitch!” he yelled, slamming the bulkhead with his flat hand, not caring who heard them. “He hit on you?”

Philip reached for the door, but she stopped him. Good thing too, because he was so lost in a testosterone fog, he would’ve made a freaking fool of himself.

Hallie pulled herself together and continued. “Well, he said a few things I didn’t like, but mostly it was the way he looked at me that was all wrong. I could have handled it if I wasn’t trying to figure out if he was my father at the same time. I was already creeped out about the Rick thing but now my guy-dar was going berserk.”

Philip took her in his arms again, rocking her, stroking her back, and mumbling comforting words to her. Then he gently pulled away, his eyes direct and probing. “Are you sure he didn’t do anything he shouldn’t have besides look at you? Did he?”

She turned and looked at the door. “Shhh. Keep it down. It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not okay. I want to know every single thing that happened up there!”

“It wasn’t so much what he said or did, just how he looked at me. Women pick up on that, even when men don’t think we know that they’re checking us out. Maybe I read him wrong, but I’ve been dealing with men for a long time, and he gave me the creeps.”