Shared by Her Soldiers (6 page)

“It is,” he agreed nonchalantly. They both fell silent as he pulled out of the driveway and began driving.

Kaitlyn did her best to distract herself by thinking of the reality of last night instead of her dream. Her fight with Sean made her stomach turn. It was much more pleasant to think about the dream, but with Jarrod sitting right across from her, she just couldn’t. Not without blushing scarlet and then he’d certainly ask questions. She could feel his eyes on her now and knew that he was curious, concerned, or both. The silence in the car felt suspicious to her, and the thought crossed her mind that she could mention her and Sean’s troubles. It would give them something to talk about, and he might even be able to help. But every time she looked at him, she grew tongue-tied, so she contented herself with sitting in silence.

Not that that stopped her mind from whirling. Once she’d started, she couldn’t stop. She’d forced her thoughts to go to Sean, and go they did. Now she was remembering the awful argument they’d had. It was funny, she’d been so nervous about him coming home, then thrilled that he was there, then embarrassed to be punished in front of him like a little girl before his feet had even been on U.S. soil for an hour. That in itself had been a lot to take in, but then they’d fought. Or, had she fought and he’d just disappeared? That was what it had felt like.

And where did that leave them? He’d been perfectly civil when he’d come back to the house. He’d taken a long shower, then come out full of comments about how good it had felt to have unlimited access to hot water. She’d nodded politely and answered when it had seemed appropriate, but it was obvious to her at least that they were just pretending, playing at being nice. That had continued for the rest of the night, throughout dinner. She’d cooked his favorite meal (and practically the only one she could cook): roast, mashed potatoes with gravy, and long green beans in citrus butter with a heavy chocolate cake for dessert. Though he’d complimented her and ate with relish, asking for seconds, it had still felt stiff and contrived to her.

Then they’d watched TV. She had yielded the remote to Sean, even though she was used to watching the news at that hour. He’d purposely skipped the five o’clock segment and had turned in for the night before the ten o’clock, leaving her alone once more. She’d been too wide-awake to go to bed. Mostly, she’d been frazzled and confused about what to do next.

The only time she’d seen him this morning was right before Jarrod had come, when he’d ordered her to bend over the bed. She’d started to argue it, but not wanting to make things even more strained between them, she’d obeyed, not even protesting when he’d told her he was going to plug her.

“That way you’ll keep your mind on the apology,” he’d explained, taking his time lubing it as she’d watch with wide eyes. It had pinched going in, and made her feel uncomfortably full, but she’d kept the thoughts to herself.

Her eyes flitted to Jarrod, sitting so quietly beside her. Did
he
know she was wearing a butt plug? The thought made her shift uncomfortably in her seat, which only made her more acutely aware of its presence.

She really wanted to talk to Jarrod about what was going on between her and Sean, to have someone to bounce her thoughts off of, if nothing else. But she
was
still a little ticked with him, and even if it weren’t for that, it was always in the back of her mind that he was Sean’s friend first. Would he tell on her? The thought made her blanch. In fact, since Jarrod had spanked her in front of her husband, she wasn’t sure what would or wouldn’t get her punished. It was enough to make her more than a little uncomfortable with the idea of confiding in him.

“Are you nervous?”

She started at the question, until she remembered what he was talking about. He was driving her to the general’s house, to meet with his wife, Candice. She’d been too knee-deep in the problems of today to remember yesterday’s. At least that meant she wasn’t, in fact, nervous. In fact, she would probably have to make a big effort to even listen to the general’s wife. But she knew that for the sake of her ass—which was still looking pink and feeling sore this morning, thanks a lot, Jarrod—she’d better try.

“No. Not really.”

“What is it, then?”

“You know what, maybe I
am
a little nervous.” She winced even as she uttered the little white lie, but Jarrod seemed satisfied with her answer. It was enough, at least, to get him to leave her in silence for the rest of the car ride. Normally, she enjoyed his company, but right now she just had too much on her mind to be troubled with making conversation.

When they pulled into the driveway, she looked at the house without really seeing it. She noted, somewhere in the back of her mind, that it was at least twice the size of theirs, but she filed it away for later, for a time when she might care about such things. Jarrod opened her door and helped her out, guiding her by the crook of her elbow to the front door. It was very early nineteenth-century of him, but whenever she’d commented on the fact, he’d told her politely but firmly to shut up and let him be a gentleman. At least, that’s how she’d taken it.

She couldn’t help but notice the rosebushes on the way to the door. Her eyes were assaulted by them, there were so many. Rows and rows of rosebushes in every color of the rainbow. The blooms were lush and magazine-perfect. She idly thought about reaching out and touching one, just to see if they were made of wax, but Jarrod was walking too fast for that.

He lifted the door knocker and used it to rap sharply on the door, once, twice, before he stopped and stepped back. “You can do this,” he whispered encouragingly. “Remember, just be polite, apologize, make a little small talk, and I’ll take you home.”

Before she could answer—she would have only given him a neutral “whatever you say” anyway—the door swung open and the man she’d met yesterday afternoon was smiling down at the two of them. He was in the khaki and polo attire Jarrod preferred, and once again Kaitlyn was given the opportunity to marvel at how different a man could look out of uniform.

“A pleasure to see you again, ma’am. And you too, Peters. What is Sergeant Green doing to keep busy this morning?”

“I believe he’s at PT, sir.”

“He just got his feet on the ground stateside,” the general scoffed, but he didn’t seem displeased. “Please, come in, come in. Candice has been in the kitchen since the crack of dawn. I don’t know what she’s been up to, but I tell you what, it sure smells delicious!”

When Jarrod chuckled, she hurried to join in with a laugh of her own as the two of them were admitted inside. The inside was even more imposing than the outside had been. The walls were cold and white and there were bronze statues of past presidents on every surface. She thought her eyes might bug out of her head before she even got a chance to apologize, so she turned away and kept her eyes forward.

Just then, the general’s wife came into the room, her shiny auburn hair braided and coiled at the top of her head in a bun. She was wearing heels, too, and the combination served to make her look a little more mature.

“You’re here!” she exclaimed with a smile. “I’m glad you could make it!”

Kaitlyn couldn’t help but be taken aback by the warmth of her greeting. “Yes. Hello. Thank you for having me.” She gave Jarrod a sideways glance to see him nod his approval.

“Oh, it’s my pleasure,” she gushed.

“What do you say we leave these two to it? Are you a football fan, Peters?”

“Of course, sir.”

“Not a Packers fan, I hope?”

“I wouldn’t dream of it, sir.”

How did he do that? Kaitlyn wondered admiringly as she watched his retreating back. Jarrod made socializing seem so simple, regardless of who the person was or their rank. It didn’t matter who he was talking to, he seemed at ease.

“Shall we?”

She turned her attention to Candice and gave her best smile. “Of course.”

To her surprise, the general’s wife took her by the hand and half speed-walked, half dragged her into the kitchen. She blinked in surprise when they entered the room. It wasn’t what she’d expected. She’d thought she’d see a lot of lace and vintage vases with brown, dried flowers, or something equally cutesy. It would match the bearing of the rest of the house.

Instead, the brown wooden counters were lined with chrome appliances and the decorations were understated, in warm orange and red tones. Her eyes were drawn to a wire spice rack with vintage labels. It certainly was homier than what she’d seen so far. In this room, she felt like she could breathe without fear of breaking something.

“It’s nice, isn’t it?” the general’s wife asked, as though she could read her mind. “Of course, it’s nearly the only room George let me take charge of.”

She made a face that had Kaitlyn giggling. “Husbands.”

“If that isn’t the truth. Now, how do you take your tea? Or do you prefer coffee?”

“I wouldn’t want to put you out.” She shook her head.

“Nonsense. I have a freshly brewed pot right over here. Cream and sugar?”

“Sure.”

Before she knew it, they were sitting at a table for two by the window, mugs in hand and a plate of cookies between them that smelled cinnamon-y and delicious.

“So, speaking of husbands,” Candice leaned forward, her warm brown eyes gleaming, “how is yours?”

“Oh.” She didn’t know why she should feel startled. Sean had just gotten home, it had been bound to come up. “Ah, well, it’s an adjustment.” She smiled tightly. “You know how it is.”

“I do,” she agreed. “I do at that, and let me tell you, when George got home after being gone nine months, it was like living with a cranky bear.” She rolled her eyes dramatically. “And your husband was gone for twice that, so I can’t even imagine.”

“It’s… it’s been hard,” she was surprised to find herself admitting.

“Yes.” Candice’s head was bobbing sagely. “It’s like, you don’t even know who they
are
anymore.”

“Or… or maybe this was who they always were,” she offered softly. “And maybe you just never realized it?” She lifted her eyes, expecting to find Candice staring at her in horror for her horrible, disloyal thoughts. Instead, she saw her nodding her agreement.

“It was tough for a while. We had to relearn each other. And, hell, of course he’d changed.
I’d
changed. So we had to figure that out, too.”

“I tried so hard,” she confided. “I tried to keep everything just like it was when he left, even if I got bored with it. And he didn’t even appreciate it!”

“Men,” Candice sighed, clucking her tongue sympathetically. “Don’t you worry, hon. It gets better. He just needs time to readjust.”

“I hope you’re right,” she muttered.

“I am, trust me. And in the meantime, if he says anything less than kind, he doesn’t mean it. It’s tough to be back home when they’ve been in a warzone for so long. Their mindset changes, you know? So if he’s aggressive, cut him a little slack. He’ll come around.”

Kaitlyn looked her in the eye, nibbling her lip. She couldn’t express her gratitude for the advice. If nothing else, the commiseration was worth more than she could say. And more than anything, she hoped Candice was right.

“So, what would you have changed, if you hadn’t been worrying about your husband?”

“My hair,” she said without thinking twice. Her hand rose to finger her split ends. “I haven’t cut it in forever.”

“Ooh, you should do that! What do you think about highlights?”

“I’ve been dying to get it done. Just something a little…”

“Different?” Candice grinned.

She nodded her agreement.

“Well, you should do it then!” She slammed her hand on the table for emphasis. “You’ve been through a lot, too. It seems like our men tend to forget that. You should treat yourself—you deserve it.”

Kaitlyn found herself getting caught up in the other woman’s fervor. “You know what? You’re right! I kept it the same, and it didn’t even matter to him. I should just do it.”

“Make a change.”

“Absolutely.”

“So when are you going to get it done?”

“Today,” she decided impulsively. “Right now, in fact. Wanna come?”

Candice’s eyes glittered back at her, caught up in the excitement. “Only if we ditch the escort.”

“The escort?” she echoed, furrowing her brow in confusion. “Oh! You mean Jarrod! He’s, ah, he’s Sean’s friend. He…”

“He’s your escort,” she repeated with a wink. “Don’t you worry, honey. We
all
get one of those.”

* * *

It was surprisingly easy to tell the men that they were going out. Neither seemed to think anything about it. Jarrod, she surmised, was probably just glad that they were getting along.

And they were, much to her surprise. Candice had turned out to be different than she’d first thought. She was lively and bubbly and fun. The more they talked, in fact, the worse she felt for her snap judgment the day before. After all, it wasn’t just any woman who, after being snubbed, would have you over to her house the next day.

They were on their way to the stylist—not the shop on the base, but the same stylist Candice herself used—when she decided she needed to come clean. “Um, Candice… listen, about the other day—”

“Oh, don’t mention it,” she interrupted with a wave of her hand. “It’s forgotten.”

“No, really. I need to apologize. I shouldn’t have been so rude. I wasn’t thinking straight.”

“And who would have expected you to?” she asked, giving her a sidelong glance. “I never should have approached you during a time like that. I don’t know what I was thinking. Well, to be honest, that’s not completely true. I just thought you looked like you could use a friend.”

“That obvious, huh?” she asked with a comical wince.

“We all need friends.”

“Well, I guess I’m lucky to have found one then,” she said, and the pair smiled at each other.

“Could you do me a favor?”

“Hmm?”

“I don’t suppose you’d mention to the general that we’ve made up?” Candice said.

“What?” Kaitlyn asked, her brow furrowing.

“Well…” For the first time since she’d seen her, she looked chagrined. “He was pretty insistent that I apologize.”