Make Mine a Ranger (Special Ops: Homefront Book 4)
Read Make Mine a Ranger (Special Ops: Homefront Book 4) Online
Authors: Kate Aster
Make Mine a Ranger
By Kate Aster
Copyright 2014, Kate Aster
All Rights Reserved
This book is a work of fiction. Names,
characters, and events are products of the author’s imagination or are used
fictitiously and are not to be interpreted as real. Any similarity to real
events, locales, or people, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and not
intended by the author.
Cover design: The Killion Group, Inc.
DEDICATION
…and one for the Airborne Ranger in the
sky.
Three years ago
The scream Tyler heard on the other side
of that door could have shattered glass.
This wasn’t the way he had planned on
spending his Spring Break, holed up on the Labor and Delivery floor of the
hospital listening to sounds no single guy like himself was ready to hear. But
the girl he’d seen in the coffee shop sure didn’t look any more ready to face
the realities of childbirth than he was.
She was too young. Too alone.
Too much like he remembered his sister
being, way back when.
Last autumn, he had been selected to be one
of West Point’s exchange students to the U.S. Naval Academy, spending the
semester in Annapolis rather than up north. The place had grown on him, with
its sail boating, pub crawls, and mild winter. When he headed back up to West
Point in January, just in time for what cadets referred to as The Gloom Period—the
most brutal, tedious part of winter there on the banks of the Hudson River—it
seemed a pretty damn good idea to return to Annapolis for a week in the spring.
Till he had seen Bess, a friend of one of
his Naval Academy instructors, sitting in the coffee shop, looking like she was
just about to pop. Literally.
Before he knew it, she had gone into
labor and he was driving her to the hospital.
What else could he have done? She had no
husband at her side. No boyfriend within sight. It was natural he’d feel a
sense of obligation to hang out with her until her friends arrived. But if he’d
been smart, if he’d been like any other cadet he knew, he would have bolted the
minute her friends showed up.
He could walk right now. He barely knew
Bess. No one would judge him poorly for it. Bess had her two best friends in
that room with her.
But for some damn reason or another, he
wanted to make sure she was okay. He was never one to bail on a mission. Even
in the two years he had been enlisted in the Army before getting accepted to
West Point, he had gotten a reputation for tenacity in the field.
“Aaaaaaaaaaaaa-ohhh-it-hurts!”
The hairs on his arms stood on end at her
cry, and his stomach roiled.
Never
. Never would he put a woman through this. Didn’t matter how
much he liked kids, he was ready to make an appointment to get snipped first
thing tomorrow.
Vasectomy, here I come.
“Push!” someone shouted on the other side
of the door, followed by another blood curdling scream from Bess.
Tyler crossed his legs.
Hell with that. I think my balls just
snipped themselves.
A nurse stepped out of Bess’s room.
“Excuse me, Ma’am,” Tyler asked. “Can’t
they give her something for the pain?”
The nurse shrugged. “She didn’t want an
epidural. And it’s too late for her to change her mind now. Are you the
father?”
Tyler eyed her, dumbfounded. If he were
the father, wouldn’t he be in there holding her hand right now as she tried to
squeeze a watermelon through a keyhole? “No, Ma’am. I’m just a friend.”
“Oh. Well, it shouldn’t be much longer
now.” She gave a curt nod and stalked down the hall.
Another order to push followed by a splintering
scream poured out of the room and down the hallway. And another. And another. Tyler’s
insides were screwing up like he had just eaten an MRE for breakfast. Normally,
he had been trained to charge in when someone was suffering. Not cower in the
hall helpless. This was totally out of his comfort zone.
Then he heard it—a baby’s cry. Not
nearly as loud as Bess’s, but still, definitely a healthy set of lungs on the
kid.
Heaving a sigh of relief, Tyler leaned
back on his hard chair, letting his shoulders sag. It was over. Thank God. He
hadn’t felt this stressed jumping from a C130 in Airborne School.
Only a few minutes passed before Maeve,
one of Bess’s friends, stepped out of the room. Her cheeks were streaked with
tears. The happy kind, Tyler guessed.
“Do you want to see the baby, Tyler?”
He hesitated. “I’m good out here.”
“Come on,” she urged. “She’s beautiful. Bess
wants to show her off.”
Curiosity overtook him and he rose from
his chair. Why not? He had come this far. He should at least take a peek at the
little kid.
Stepping into the room, his eyes fell immediately
to the tiny baby, almost looking surreal to him. She was so small. Too small. “Is
she all right?” Tyler asked, even knowing it was a stupid question as it passed
from his lips. But she looked so fragile, swaddled in a yellow blanket, eyes
pressed shut and skin moist and ruddy.
He couldn’t take his eyes off her.
“She’s fine. She’s perfect.” It wasn’t
even until she spoke to him that he noticed Bess, brow drenched with sweat, and
arms holding her baby protectively.
Wow. Start off the day as a party of one,
and end the day as a mom. Crazy world.
“Congratulations, Bess.” Tyler tried to look
at her directly as he spoke, but his eyes were still drawn to the vulnerable little
girl she held. “She’s beautiful. So tiny.”
“Do you want to hold her?”
Hell, no.
Hell, yeah.
He could handle an M240 like it was an
extension of his own arm. But could he dare to hold something so fragile, even
for a moment?
At Bess’s nod, Maeve took the baby from
her and gently handed her to Tyler.
“Just be sure to support the head.”
Tyler nodded. He knew that, remembering
it from when his teenage sister had given birth. Tyler had only been five at
the time. He could almost hear his mother’s patient voice instructing him, an
echo from years past. “Support the baby’s head, Tyler.”
Okay, Mom.
The baby’s eyes were shut, and her face
was puffy like a rosy, pink marshmallow. Lips forming a tiny o, garbled sounds
came from her mouth. Not quite cries. Not quite coos. Just strange,
unintelligible sounds that made Tyler crack a smile.
A little hand poked out from beneath the
blanket and grasped Tyler’s finger. His breath caught from the contact, and a
lump lodged firmly in his throat.
“What’s her name?” he asked, his eyes
never leaving the baby.
“Abigail,” Bess answered.
“Abigail,” he repeated, his voice barely
a whisper, and his eyes transfixed by the sight of her tiny fist coiled around his
index finger.
That’s right, little girl. You hold on to me. I’ve got your
six.
Her eyes opened slightly, like little
windows to her soul, and locked on his gaze.
And he was lost to her.
Today
It’s not him. It’s not him.
Bess glanced again into her rear view
mirror at the red Lotus Elise sports car they had passed at the intersection. In
her mind, she could still see every contour of the face through the windshield
as though his outline were etched into her brain. He was wearing dark sunglasses,
but Bess could feel his eyes burrowing into her as her car passed.
The hair looked like Dan’s—short
and sandy blonde. A little spiky on the top. The lips were a straight, thin
line, hinting of displeasure.
She had seen that look on his face often
enough in the months they had been together during college, the same expression
that was often followed by a strike to her face.
But the car behind her was a Lotus. It
had been nearly four years since she had seen Dan, and it was possible he
replaced the Ford pickup he had gotten from his dad. But a flashy sports car
just wasn’t his style.
Of course, styles can change over four years.
No, she thought, giving her head a slight
shake. It had to be her imagination again. That was it. Her lack of sleep was
causing her mind to play tricks on her.
In her rear-view mirror, she saw the car
turn and head in the opposite direction. “Good,” she said under her breath. It
was much more palatable to think she was just losing her mind than to think
that Dan had found her here in Annapolis.
“What’s good, Mama?” Abigail asked from
the back seat.
Bess bit her lip, unaware that she had
spoken so loudly. She’d have to watch that. “It’s good we missed that red
light. We’re going to be late enough as it is.”
She glanced at the clock on her
dashboard. Just once, she’d love to arrive somewhere with Abigail on time. But
there was always some kind of drama attached to loading her three-year-old into
the car.
Picturing poor Tyler, she laughed a
little, imagining the tough Army Ranger waiting for them alone, surrounded by
screaming children and a throng of drooling moms wondering why a guy so hot was
sitting by himself at Pirate Pop’s Pizza Palace.
Tyler, she reminded herself.
Think
about Tyler.
If he wasn’t enough to get her mind off the imaginary image of
her abusive ex-boyfriend following her around, then there was something
seriously wrong with her.
The last time she had seen Tyler was a
little over a year ago, when he stopped by for a quick visit on his way driving
from Fort Drum to his next Army post, a coveted assignment to the 1
st
Ranger Battalion in Savannah. They traded a couple emails since then, and he
had called on Abby’s third birthday, stunned to discover that Bess’s little
girl was talking so much now.
Gazing in the rear view mirror, Bess
smiled at the reflection of her daughter, watching the trees as they zipped
along Route 2 heading north of Annapolis. Pirate Pop’s was just outside of
town, where the historic structures of Maryland’s state capital gave way to
more industrial buildings and strip malls. This was where moms like Bess spent
their time—frequenting the bounce houses, little kid gyms with foam pits,
and restaurants that boasted talking mechanical animals.
There was no plausible reason for a guy
like Tyler to be spending a nice summer day in this part of town with her and
her daughter. He should be downtown, hanging out in one of Annapolis’s pubs or
watching a boat race off Horn Point. Bess imagined Tyler kept in touch all
these years because two of her best friends, Mick Riley and Jack Falcone,
outranked him.
But whatever the reason, she was grateful
that Abby had another man to add to her roster of honorary uncles.
Bess reached for the soda that was in her
cup holder, desperately needing the caffeine. She hadn’t yet gotten used to
sleeping in the house with only the company of her little girl. Every innocuous
sound—the creak of Abby’s bed as she rolled over, the scratch of a bush
against the siding, the clunk of the refrigerator icemaker as it kicked on—sent
her heart into palpitations.
She had been spoiled all these years,
living in a little Cape Cod style house with a view of the Chesapeake Bay that
was owned by her friend, Maeve. When Maeve moved out to live with her new
husband Jack down in Little Creek, Virginia, Bess’s friend Lacey had moved in
so that she could be close to her husband, Mick, who had been going through treatment
for Traumatic Brain Injury at Walter Reed in Bethesda.
Now that Mick had recovered enough to go
back to active duty, he and Lacey had bought a condo in DC, leaving Bess and
Abby in the house alone.
Even with the security system turned on, Bess
still felt like she was a target, so alone in that house with her daughter. Alone
and vulnerable.
Paranoid. That’s what she was. But with
her history, how could she not be?
“Can I play skeeball?” Abby called out
from the back seat.
“Of course. And you can ride the horse,
too.”
“That’s for babies. It’s not a real
horse.”
Bess laughed, remembering how much the
mechanical horse had amused her daughter last time. “You used to like it.”
“I’m grown up now.”
“You’re three, honey. Don’t grow up on me
too fast, okay?”
“Okay, Mama.”
The conversation bolstered Bess. Until
just recently, Abby barely had spoken a word, causing Bess to worry endlessly. Now,
it was hard to get her daughter to keep quiet.
She glanced in her rear view mirror
again, half expecting the red car to reappear with Dan’s face staring at her
from behind the wheel. But it was a Jeep. A Jeep never looked so good to her.
Twice now, she had seen someone who could
pass as Dan’s twin. The first time, she spotted him jogging down her street. He
even slowed to glance at her house—she’d swear on her life that he
did—then disappeared around the corner.
It was absurd, of course. In the months
they had been together, Dan hadn’t once gone jogging. It had to be someone who
just looked like him.
But now… she thought she’d seen him again.
Shaking her head, she slowed to a stop as
the light in front of her turned red. She just needed some sleep.
And a housemate. What she wouldn’t give
to have another responsible adult in that house, preferably one with a black
belt in karate.
She flicked on her turn signal and pulled
into the parking lot.
“Is Tyler giving me presents?”
Bess sighed. It was a natural question,
she imagined, since most of the times Tyler’s name came up it usually had a
gift or two attached to it.
“Honey, it’s not your birthday,” Bess
answered.
“I know. But he always gets me presents.”
“Well, he sends those on holidays and
birthdays, honey. Today is just an ordinary day.” Bess half smiled. Ordinary? Not
by a long shot. There was nothing ordinary about a day when she got to have
lunch with a deliciously hot Army Ranger. Actually, going out with
any
man would be classified as something of a miracle. Being a single mom, it was a
little hard to date a man, especially when her last relationship had caused her
so much pain.
Her phone buzzed in her purse just as she
was pulling into a parking space. A message from Tyler popped up on the screen.
“Where are you?” he wrote. “Everything okay?”
“Just pulled into the lot. Sorry,” she
quickly wrote back, adding a frowning emoticon.
As she undid Abby’s car seat buckle, a
man emerged through the door of Pirate Pop’s, his shoulders filling up the
doorframe and his smile making the high noon sun seem dull in comparison.
Tyler
.
Her heart did a backflip, and she
reminded herself for the twentieth time today that he was really here to see
Abby, not her. Not her, in her stretchy tank dress that hid the twenty extra
pounds of pregnancy weight that had never disappeared. Or her cheap drug store
makeup that was always put on in a rush, or her sensible flip-flops that she
actually considered a step up from the grubby sneakers she usually wore. Even
if Bess owned a pair of sexy stilettos, she would have left them at home. Who
can chase after a three-year-old in stilettos?
Abby broke into a full gallop
toward Tyler as he approached. To her, Tyler was a gift-bearing superman.
Setting down a shopping bag on the
pavement, he lifted Abby and swung her around.
“You’re getting big, Abby,” he said, the
mere sound of his voice making Bess’s backbone tingle, like it always did. She
loved his voice.
“I’m free now,” Abby responded, her “th”
still sounding like “f.”
“I know. Don’t grow up on me too fast,
okay?” he replied.
Abby laughed gleefully. “That’s what Mama
said in the car.”
His eyes were drawn to Bess now, and his
gaze on her made her blood sizzle like frying bacon on Sunday morning.
“Hey, Bess,” he said, putting Abby down. “You
look great.”
Bess suppressed a snort of disbelief as
he stole her into a hug. She nearly passed out from the sensation. The body
behind his innocuous polo shirt and cargo shorts was rock hard. “You do, too.”
He took Abby’s hand. “Glad you got here. All
the moms in there are giving me some strange looks. I think half of them think
I’m some kind of freak sitting by myself. It’s not exactly a place for a lone
guy to hang, you know?”
“Oh, I don’t think that’s why they’re
staring,” Bess enlightened him. “They may all be haggard moms like me, but
they’re not too tired to check out a guy with biceps like yours, Tyler.”
He laughed. “Is that it?”
“I guarantee it.” She smiled. “Being in
the Rangers has certainly agreed with you.”
“Well, glad to hear it. I was afraid it
just made me a bitter, scarred up Solider from it.”
Concern creased Bess’s brow. “Scars? Did
something happen on one of your missions?”
Tyler shrugged. “Nothing I can’t handle,”
he said carelessly as he herded Abby through the door. “Come on in, sweetness,”
he said… to Abby, Bess reminded herself. Not to her. “I got a present for you.”
The air conditioning in Pirate Pop’s
slapped Bess as Tyler opened the door for her. The chill would help her stay
awake, and maybe suppress the rising temperature underneath her skin that
always seemed to accompany being near Tyler, her unattainable crush for nearly
four years now.
They ordered a pizza at the counter and
Tyler pulled a new stuffed toy from a shopping bag for Abby. “It’s a bulldog,
Abby. They’re really into bulldogs down in Savannah.”
Holding the dog in her grasp, Abby
wrapped her arms around Tyler’s leg. “Thank you,” she said.
Bess’s heart cracked a little at the
sight of her little girl, so enraptured by the burly, adorable saint she hugged
ferociously. What Bess wouldn’t give for her little girl to have a father like
Tyler.
“Here.” Tyler handed Abby a fist full of
tokens. “Go try some skeeball while your mom and I wait for the pizza.” He
patted her on the head before she darted away.
“So how long are you in town for?” Bess
asked as she planted herself in a booth near the skeeball.
“A year, actually.”
Bess’s eyes opened wide. “What?”
“I’m up as an augmentee to Fort Meade.”
Bess gave her head a quick shake. “But I
thought you said you were going to stay in the Rangers for a while.”
“I’m still part of the Battalion. They
need a Ranger in a Military Intelligence position for a year. Then I’m headed
back to Savannah.”
“That’s great.” She was just happy to
have another friend in Annapolis, she tried to convince herself. It had nothing
to do with the way his smile made her melt like a snow cone in August heat. It
might be nice to see him more than once a year just to remind herself that she
still had some estrogen pumping in her blood.
“Yeah. But I’ve got just two days to find
an apartment or I’ll be stuck living on base.”
Bess bit her lip, her mind wandering to
the two empty rooms in her house. No way he’d want to live with a single mom
and a three-year-old. But it was nice to imagine. She might actually get over
the fear of Dan showing up at her door with a guy like Tyler sleeping in the same
house.
With those pecs, he’d be better
protection than a set of Dobermans, and a lot less risky to Abby than a couple of
angry dogs.
The thud of a skeeball smacking against
Plexiglas drew her eyes to Abigail. “Roll the ball, honey. Don’t throw it.”
Shoulders slumped, Abby frowned as she
came back to the table. “I never get better,” she moped.
“You just need some practice. Let
me help,” he offered. Without another word he got up from his seat and took
Abby back to the skeeball. He bent over to slide a token into the machine,
showing off the remarkable ass showcased in his cargo shorts. Good Lord. Bess
swallowed a sigh. Yeah, definitely wouldn’t be a good idea to be living with
that
.
She’d die from unrequited lust within six weeks, tops.