The Navy's Ghost (Bad Boys of Beta Squad) (13 page)

It’d be even better if Jim’s mouth
sucked on my breasts while Todd’s hands caressed my legs.

Yeah, that’d be awesome, but
Jim would have to stay in the same room with her long enough to even know she had breasts.

Chris sighed and turned sideways, setting her right foot on the ground before pulling herself out of the car using her
arms. The weakness in her left leg infuriated her, but she’d improved enough to move without her hiking stick. When she stood, she straightened the flared skirt of her new dress self-consciously and thanked her lucky stars again for low heeled pumps. No need to be more unsteady.

When she’d put the dress on, she’d realized she couldn’t wear a bra. The back of the dress rest
ed at the top of her sacrum. She’d been lucky she could even wear panties. She’d never been so undressed in public in her life. At least Magic had been right about the length of the skirt. It did hide her scars.

She took a deep breath and squared her shoulders before slamming her car door and limping for the front porch.
The sky had cleared and the sun painted a glorious sunset in the west.
Good night for a party.

Magic had inherited an old ranch house with real pine poles making up the support posts and roof beams. The two car garage
stood separate and had a mother-in-law apartment which Magic used as an at-home gym. The walls of both buildings were stucco and painted a warm gray. Darker gray trim and window edgings created the image of an old southwestern hacienda.

C
arved pine doors stained a dark brown stood closed, their cast iron doorpulls gleaming in the fading light. The wide veranda protected the porch from the California sun and various species of palm trees provided dancing shade during the day. Now they crackled gently in the evening breeze as she hobbled up the front steps.

You can do this, Brickman
. Nothing to it. Easier than most of those classified missions you ran.

Sh
e paused in front of the door. The hairs on the back of her neck rose and her shoulder blades itched like someone watched her. She froze and turned her head just a little, flicking her hand as if studying her nails while she checked her peripheries. Nothing but the palms moved along the quiet street and she grimaced. It must be the nervousness from being in a dress.

The door opened at her knock
and her voice took a leave of absence, her heart thundering in her chest.

Magic stood before her in his dress whites, the medals on his chest sparkling like brightly colored scale mail. The tailored uniform hugged his broad shoulders and fell in crisp lines to his narrow waist, every brass button polished to a high shine. The elegant white slacks
molded to his thighs but still managed to show the sharp pleats in the legs. He even wore the white dress shoes she’d always found ridiculous for practical reasons, but tonight they completed the picture of male elegance.

Chris raised her gaze up to Todd’s face and wondered if her expression mirrored his. He stared at her as if he’d never seen her before and she hoped she didn’t look
ridiculous. While she hadn’t used much make-up, she still worried she resembled a raccoon with the eyeliner and shadow she’d applied.

“Dear God, you’re
so damn beautiful.” He extended a hand to draw her forward into his home, his eyes full of awe.

“Thanks.”

Kicking the door shut with his heel, he gathered her into his arms and swooped in for a kiss. Chris savored the softness of his lips on hers, breathing in his clean, masculine sandalwood scent. Her blood heated when he slipped his tongue inside to stroke hers in languorous sweeps and her nipples hardened against the hard plane of his chest.

When he pulled back, he stared down at her with lus
t and desire burning in his gray eyes.

“God, I’ve missed those,” he said
, his hands sliding up and down her bare back. “Can we do more of them all night tonight?”

Chris laughed and
tried to relax in her girly costume. “Please. They take my mind off this ridiculous dress and shoes.”

Todd angled his head for another soul searching kiss. “I love this dress on you. But I think I’d love it even more
off
you. It doesn’t look remotely ridiculous either way, darlin’.”

****

He’d uttered the understatement of the century. Christiana Brickman in peach colored silk was anything but ridiculous.

Stunning, sexy,
mouthwatering, fucking amazing, but not ridiculous. She’d piled her shoulder-length hair up in a fancy bun with tendrils at her temples falling artfully to brush her throat. Eyeliner enhanced her elegant hazel eyes and rosy lipstick tempted him to nibble on her lush lips.

Todd
thanked God his dress jacket hung long enough to cover his crotch because his cock staged a hostile takeover of his mental state and tried to break out of his pants.

When
he’d called over to her house earlier, he hoped she hadn’t thrown the box of silk on the floor and stomped on it. She’d never liked dresses, but she’d said she’d wear one for special occasions and this was about as special as it got.

The small ring made from three bands of
yellow gold burned a hole in his pocket, but he hoped he could present it to her tonight and end the unrelenting agony plaguing him since Beta Squad had gone wheels-up on the last mission. He’d had the ring commissioned before he left, but only picked it and the dress up when he returned the night before. He hadn’t slept much. He’d been too keyed up to collapse in his usual post training coma.

He’d told the
whole Squad what he planned. Hell, most of them had helped put together the last minute details for the party scheduled after he had his time with Chris alone. They’d teased and ragged on him the whole time away, but gamely jumped at the opportunity to help him stage his proposal as soon as they returned to Coronado.

The only fly in the ointment was Retro.

The big SEAL’s face had damn near crumpled when Magic told his friend he’d propose to Ghost when they got back. Retro hadn’t joined in the teasing as if he couldn’t stomach the idea of Chris belonging to someone else. Todd didn’t blame him.
He could’ve been part of that deal if he’d pulled his head outta his ass.

Something about Jim’s
retreat and avoidance rubbed Todd the wrong way, as if the man had chickened out. Ever since the night they’d shard Chris, Todd had little hints Retro really did want to be with him and Chris, but something kept him from reaching for the brass ring. Todd didn’t put much stock in fate, but his gut said Jim would eventually come around. He’d commissioned three rings of the woven bands of gold to cover the eventuality.
Here’s hopin’ my gut’s right.

Jim had promised to come at
2000 hours with the rest of the Squad and Magic had exactly fifty-three minutes to propose to Christiana Brickman before then. The little ring resembled “the One Ring to Rule Them All” from Tolkien’s
Lord of the Rings
Trilogy, a metal weight like a barbell in his pocket. He just had to find the perfect moment to bring it out and ask her to be his forever.

Chris laughed and wiggled her hips a little. “You’re not the only one who w
ants this silly thing off.”

“Is that an invitation?”
Todd slid his fingers into the hem at the small of her back.
Holy shit, is she wearing a thong?

“No.
”

“Too bad.” He winked and withdrew his hands before his cock poked her in the belly.
Down, boy!

“So, what’
s the occasion really, Magic?” She took his hand and followed him deeper into the house.

His heart clenched as she limped along with him.
Her frustration at being awkward tightened her expression, but her hips swayed more than most women and he enjoyed every extra motion. The hem of her skirt flirted with her legs, shooting more blood to his groin. Damn! He had to stop staring at her legs or he’d come in his dress whites.

He led her into
the kitchen, her small heels clicking unevenly on the stone flagstone floor. The trays of
hors d’oeuvres
Bronco’s wife Lindsey had prepared filled most of the counter space and the island, covered in plastic.

L
ight from two tall white tapers in crystal holders bathed the table in the breakfast nook. An oxblood red tablecloth draped the scarred oak top, while two crystal champagne flutes stood sentinel beside an old fashioned wooden ice cream maker full of ice. Chris paused just outside the glow of the candles’ light, a mixture of suspicion and humor flooding her face.

“Is that the bu
cket from the little town in—”

“Yep.” He grinned when she laughed and shook her head.

Chris had found Magic wearing the old ice cream bucket and a loin cloth one night on shore leave with Retro and Bam-Bam in a Hispanic part of the world. They’d been drinking fairly heavily and seducing the local
señoritas
. She’d claimed he might prefer a lampshade if he was going for stupid, and warned him to check his cock and balls for cooties in the morning. When he woke up the next day in his bunk, he’d found the ice cream bucket in his locker, full of condoms and delousing powder.

“Have a seat.”

He handed her into a chair and pulled the champagne bottle from the ice, the individual cubes sparkling in the flickering light. Chris watched him, her smile fading into curiosity as he popped the cork and filled both flutes with the golden liquid. He handed one to her, then hooked the other chair with his foot, dragging it closer to hers.

“To surviving another day.” He raised his glass.

Chris quirked an eyebrow, but raised her glass to his. “To surviving.” She sipped her champagne. “So what’s this special occasion, again?”

“You don’t think it’s just because I’m happy to see you dressed to the nines?”

“If you were really happy to see me, we wouldn’t be dressed at all.” She winked and he laughed.

Todd laughed to cover his nervousness.
Chris held the flute delicately, her hazel eyes watching his every move. Todd’s heart rate kick up as the moment neared. His uncertainty lay in her acceptance of his suit without Retro as their third. Some part of him still hoped Retro would come around, maybe even before the wedding, but he couldn’t wait any longer.

There won’t be a wedding if you don’t ask her, jackass
.

Stalling, he
set down his glass and grasped one of her hands in his. Those hands showed strength and calluses from her work with the SEALs. Tiny scars dotted her palms from SERE, creating a constellation of experience and toughness for everyone to see. He loved her hands. He loved watching them break down a weapon to be stored little tiny boxes or sliding over his bare skin. Hell, he just liked to see them holding a coffee cup and a pen.

Quit stalling, you pussy, and get to the main attraction
.

He raised his gaze to her face and squeezed her hand gently. “
You’re so beautiful, Chris, and I don’t really have the words to describe just how much it means to me that you wore the dress I bought for you. It looks amazin’.”

Chris rolled her eyes, but didn’t interrupt. A good thing because it might have derailed his momentum.

“When you started walkin’ again three months ago, I swore someone had taken a huge pile of bricks off my shoulders. I knew you were gonna be fine, but it didn’t really register until I saw you walk back onto base.”

“Limped is more like it.
” She grimaced.

Todd waved her comment away. “But you were home and walking, and it meant everything to me. You
came too close to dying and that just plain pissed me off.”

Chris raised an eyebrow. “I came close to dying several times when I
worked in the Teams. You never had a problem with it then.”

“Yeah, well, I told myself I couldn’t love you then
.” He smiled to take away the sting of his words. “I did anyway, but I got pretty good at pretending I didn’t. Denial isn’t just a river on the African continent.”

Chris grinned like he hoped she would.

“You know I love you, Ghost. I haven’t stopped saying it or thinking it since the night in the hospital. But when we went wheels-up five weeks ago, it hit home just how much I loved you and needed you in my life.”

Chris’
s eyebrows rose as he pushed himself off the chair and knelt in front of her, digging in his pocket for the ring. Where the hell had the damn thing gone? Just moments ago it had been a lead fishing weight the size of a golf ball. Now he couldn’t seem to find it in the folds of his pocket.

Dammit.
Where the fuck is it?
He had to use both hands to grope around in his pocket.
Shit, I look like I’m feeling myself up.

Chris’
s expression morphed into amusement as he touched the ring, withdrew his hand, and the little circle of woven gold flew away under the legs of her chair. He groaned and bent to retrieve it just as she gasped and leaned over to help him. Their heads knocked together and he yelped like a whipped dog while she grunted and rubbed her forehead.