Forget Me Not (Love in the Fleet) Page 7

  He bolted up from the bed. His legs were tied up in blankets. He tried to kick them off, which only entangled him further. Panic set in. He flailed harder. Sweat poured from his body. The sheets were soaked. His throat was parched and hoarse from screaming. But he managed to spit out, “Get the hell out of here!”

  He heard footsteps. The door opened and closed. Tears poured down his face. He sniffled and swore he smelled the tang of burning fuel hanging in the air.

  “Leave me alone, Joe. Just leave me the hell alone.”

  Chapter 9

  “You’re playing with fire, Daisy Schneider,” she exclaimed to the mirror, one eye shut as she applied mascara, preparing for church. “He’s infuriating, he’s maddening…and he’s charming as can be. But he’s bad news. For starters, he’s a pilot. And a bullshit artist to boot.” She straightened and assessed herself, then glanced down at Jack’s smiling photo on the bathroom counter. “But Jack, I’m so lonely. I’m doing everything to fill the empty time and space, but it’s not enough.

  “I mean, it’s not like I’m going to have a relationship with him. Guys like that don’t have relationships. Well, they do, but they only last a short time. I’m not going to marry the guy. And what about the kids at the Boys and Girls Club? And Captain Duncan? They’re crazy about Brian. Surely I can’t deny them his company. Maybe I could have a teeny tiny affair and enjoy it for as long as it lasts. You know what? It would serve you right. The way you treated me.” She gathered up her purse and sweater for church.

  She asked herself again why she hadn’t told Brian about Jack. Daisy had learned to be careful who she shared her husband’s death with because people treated her differently once they found out. There were two different camps on the subject: those who handled her with kid gloves and those who shunned her as if death might be contagious. She believed that Brian belonged in the first camp and she had a feeling he might never leave her alone if he knew. But would it be because he wanted to be with her or because he felt sorry for her? Mostly she hadn’t told him because it was none of his business. Besides, there was more to it than Jack’s dying anyway. So she kept it simple. Her personal life was no one else’s concern.

  Daisy felt another stab of guilt as she passed Jack’s photos on the mantle. “You know what? I’m not speaking to you right now. Because you are majorly pissing me off. So I’m going to turn you around for a while.” And she did just that. “I got royally kissed yesterday and it felt damn good. No. That’s not true. I did the kissing and that felt even better. So there.”

  Kissing Brian had felt good, and she was up for more. He wasn’t such a bad guy—for a player. He’d been a sport about all the volunteering, never complaining and definitely helping out. There was no doubt his priority was still to get into her pants, but maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing. Maybe it’s just what she needed. And when he got tired of her and moved on to his next conquest, so be it. Surely they could have fun together until that time. All Daisy knew was it felt terrific to laugh again and to kiss a man again. And it also felt liberating to acknowledge she was angry with Jack, without feeling guilty down to her very soul.

  “Come on, Daisy. Let nature do its thing, flower child,” Sky said as he stripped off his T-shirt and dropped it on their beach blanket. “The quickest way to get this junk off us is to jump in the ocean, sweaty clothes and all, and then dry off in the sunshine.”

  “Last one in is a rotten egg,” Daisy called as she raced toward the surf.

  Covered in both sweat and dust from sanding drywall after church, they’d decided to grab a picnic dinner and head to the beach. The late October water was cooler than Sky expected as he dove under a wave, but maybe that was a good thing. Because Daisy had sure made his temperature rise today. They’d sanded and talked and laughed—through their dust masks—all afternoon. And the Ice Queen appeared to be melting a bit more. Sky found his footing in the surf and reached out to Daisy, pulling her to her feet.

  She jumped to avoid the next wave, pulled her sopping wet T-shirt to her nose, and sniffed. “But I still stink,” she said flashing her soft, creamy stomach.

  The stomach thing was good, but what a waste of a good wet T-shirt. Sky wished she’d kept it plastered to her body because her sports bra underneath wasn’t hiding a thing. Not the fullness of her breasts or the way the cool water had pebbled her nipples. Glad they were in hip-deep water, Sky was doubtful his cargo shorts were doing a better job of hiding things. Man, all they’d done was dive into the ocean and he was ready to rock and roll.

  Behave yourself, Skylark. You’re getting close. Don’t drive her away.

  But did he listen to himself? No. Instead he took her in his arms, sniffing her sweaty neck. “Mmmmm. I think you smell wonderful. Like a rose. Or, better yet, like a daisy.” And then he kissed her. One minute he was sniffing her neck and the next they were locked in an embrace to beat the band. He picked right up where they’d left off the day before in the sand dunes, and she was kissing him back like it was her job. She melted in his arms, as the surf pounded them. Daisy took a half step in the shifting sand to steady herself—or was it to get a better grip on him?

  “Oh, my God!” She jumped into Sky’s arms, wrapping her legs around his hips. She threw her arms around his neck and he settled his hands under her bottom, squeezing it appreciatively.

  He grinned. “That good, huh?”

  “No, something bit me!”

  “Aw, that was the love bug, honey.” Angling his mouth, he dove back into hers. Today she not only explored his teeth with her tongue, but apparently needed to do a perimeter check as well. And once that gauntlet was thrown down, Sky, always the gentleman, graciously accepted the challenge to explore every nook and cranny of her mouth too.

  The surf continued to rock them and Sky willed himself to hold on to her, waiting for each wave and bracing for it. Because Daisy’s back was to the horizon, each wave knocked her hips into his, which was definitely not a bad thing. He took a chance and shifted her to his right arm, disengaging his left hand to palm her cheek as he consumed her with kisses. The shift settled her right over his—oh, yeah, right there, honey. Unable to contain his groan, he was surprised when Daisy moaned along with him. Loud enough to hear above the breaking surf.

  The rhythm of the waves lulled him, until he anticipated the swells every few seconds, pushing her closer to him, her sounds of satisfaction mingling with the seagulls overhead and the shrieks of children on the beach. But nothing mattered right now except this kiss and this woman and this moment.

  Sky’s left hand now operated completely independent of his brain, as it had done many times before, sliding down to stroke her neck and then dipping lower to encompass her entire breast.

  No, not right here on the beach with people around.

  He’d had this talk with his hands before, when they went rogue like this, but did they ever listen? No. They laughed at him. And then for good measure, his thumb grazed her nipple, hard from the chill of the water and, he hoped, from the thrill of this kiss. His thumb flicked over it again and again through her T-shirt and sports bra, reminding him who was in charge.

  Primal brain: one. The Skylark: zero.

  But did Daisy pull away? No, she kept right on kissing him, pushing herself as close to him as she could possibly get, her body also in the rhythm of each incoming wave.

  Sky’s feet took charge and had the sense to turn them, hiding his left side from the stragglers left on the beach. This allowed his left thumb to continue its research on the effect of wet T-shirts on nipples after being dunked in seventy-degree water. The conclusion was affirmative that the subject did indeed welcome the thumb’s action, if her emitting little high-pitched-out-of-control-love-making noises was any indication.

  Right there on a public beach. The Ice Queen. He was definitely going to have to come up with a better nickname for Daisy Schneider now. Bu
t not this minute, thank you. He had his hands full—literally—trying to get them and other body parts to behave. But he wasn’t having much luck. At least his feet were still capable of rational thought, as they jockeyed to keep him standing.

  But the next wave knocked them over and water shot up his nose when he laughed at the wrong moment. It was like somebody had turned a fire hose on them. Certainly what they deserved, carrying on like that in public. It had been the most amazing kiss Sky had experienced in his entire life, which had entailed a lot of kissing. But never with a woman standing in the surf, her soaking wet body plastered up against him, her willing mouth hot under his. Because when she’d jumped up and wrapped her legs around him? He was certain he’d died and gone to heaven. It was sexier than full out intercourse. Right out there in public.

  The Ice Queen? There was no way he was letting this chick—this woman—get away.

  Sky swam under the wave and caught Daisy, bringing her up to the surface where he tried to reignite the kiss. She giggled and pushed him away, coughing and choking. “I’m dying here.”

  He dove under again and pulled her legs out from under her. Daisy laughed as she went back under. When he offered his hand to help her up, she yanked him under with her. After dipping and diving a few more times, they rode the next wave in to shore. Then lay there in the spent surf, looking intensely at one another in the shallow water.

  He’d been hungry for her for days, and now that he’d tasted her, he was addicted. “What do you say we get out of here, darlin’?”

  Daisy gave him her reproving look. He cocked his eyebrow. “So are you saying if I don’t call you darlin’, you’ll come home with me?”

  “Maybe. Let’s go eat.” She pushed herself up out of the water.

  He followed. Took her arm and pulled her to him, eyes intense. Sky had never been more serious in his life. “I’m not hungry anymore.” He couldn’t imagine eating food when he still had her flavor in his mouth. “I mean, I can wait for dinner.”

  “But I can’t. I worked up quite an appetite sanding all afternoon.” She disengaged herself and headed up the beach, leaving him to follow her. Reaching their blanket, she began to unpack the meal.

  “Daisy, really. We can pack this up and take it home. You know, get a shower, clean up. Then, you know, have dinner later.”

  “Hold your horses, Romeo. We’ve got all night.” Daisy popped open a beer and handed it to him.

  “We do?” Sweet. Warmth flooded him as he anticipated a night of lovin’ before heading out for Norfolk in the morning. It sure would put a smile on his face all week during those boring drug interdiction classes.

  Daisy sniffed her T-shirt again. “Well, that washed a little of the sweat away. Really, it was a good idea to just jump in. The ocean, that is. I wonder what Captain Duncan would say if he was here. Isn’t it amazing how he always knows I’m around by my scent?”

  Sky propped himself up on one elbow and looked at her like she was supper. “Yeah, I could get used to that.” He sniffed the air.

  Daisy blushed. “You were so funny at coffee hour after church today. I guess I never told you George was in the choir. What did he tell you, ‘Just because I can’t see, doesn’t mean I can’t sing?’ Pretty funny.” She picked up a sandwich and started to eat, but stopped when she saw the intensity of his look. “Don’t you think it’s interesting how he always says things like ‘I smell Dr. Daisy at nine o’clock?’ And ‘You’re a sight for sore eyes?”’

  Sky wasn’t falling for her distracting chatter and he wasn’t eating either. He sat up and leaned in close to her. “I don’t want to talk about George. I want to talk about you and me and kissing. Better yet? I want to kiss you some more.” He pointed to the ocean. “You can’t sit here and tell me that kiss wasn’t amazing.”

  Daisy stopped chewing, paused, and swallowed. No, she couldn’t sit there and tell him that kiss had not been amazing. And sitting on the blanket with Brian looking at her like she was something good to eat was pretty amazing too. He was a mighty fine specimen, shirtless in the late afternoon sun, all smooth, tanned skin and muscles. And oh, how those muscles had felt as he’d held her up in the ocean with one arm. He’d probably called in all his reserves to do that, so his other hand could... Daisy blushed and had to turn away, remembering the feel of his thumb stroking her nipple. It had been way too long.

  “Well?” he asked again.

  “Yes, it was amazing.” She turned back to see the setting sun glinting off his red-gold stubble. Probably hadn’t shaved since Friday morning. She couldn’t believe he’d shown up for church like that. Yet he didn’t look scruffy, more sexy as all get out. She’d sat through church with him that close to her, smelling his fresh, clean, right-out-of-the-shower-soap-and-water scent. She was afraid to turn her head to breathe him in, fearing she wouldn’t be able to tear herself away. All the time fully aware of the looks she received from the women in the congregation. Some gave her a secret little smile as if to say, “You, go, girl.” They all probably wondered what in the world was going on with Daisy Schneider? She didn’t know, but whatever it was, she wanted more of it, even though it scared the tar out of her.

  “But we have to eat now.” Daisy bit into her sandwich. “So tell me about your trip.”

  “There’s nothing to tell.” He flipped to his back, obviously resigned to the fact that there would be no more kissing until later.

  Brian locked his hands under his head and gazed at the clouds, tinged with pink as the sun settled lower in the sky. “Flying up to Norfolk in the morning for training all week. I’ll be back Friday.”

  “What kind of training?”

  “Drug interdiction stuff. Mostly theory. Mostly BS. We do the really cool stuff when we go out on patrol, like we’ll do next month. That’s the real deal, and maybe we’ll even bag some bad guys. Nothing I like better than to ruin a drug runner’s day. This week’s probably going to be a waste of time. But at least I’ll get to see my buddies.”

  “Bill Gates? And Lacey?” A smile lit her face. “Tell me about them.”

  Sky turned his head, hand shielding his eyes from the sun. “You’re not going to kiss me again until I do, right?”

  Daisy laughed. “You got it, Romeo.”

  “Okay, well, there were three of us guys at Annapolis who are still really tight. My shipmates from Plebe Summer and beyond. We named ourselves the Highwaymen after a night of drinking illicit beer under a highway overpass when we were at the Academy. Well, actually when we were AWOL from the Academy. But those beers are still the best tasting ones I’ll ever drink in my life. Anyway, Nick’s on an amphibious assault ship out of Norfolk. Due back from deployment soon. I haven’t seen him in awhile, but we stay caught up online. He can be a pretty funny guy when he wants to be.”

  “Funnier than you?” Daisy grabbed her sweatshirt, the late afternoon took on a chill, and she didn’t want to sit in a wet T-shirt. She felt herself blush thinking of his thumb stroking her in the water.

  “Honey, nobody’s funnier than me. Anyway, what’s cool is I fly with Nick’s little brother, Mikey, who’s an honorary Highwayman, and he keeps me up to date on what’s going on in Nick’s life.”

  Daisy took a sip from her beer, then set it down in the sand. “Mikey? Sounds like a little boy.”

  “That’s why it’s so funny, ’cuz he’s six-foot-four. Both he and Nick are giants, played basketball at the Academy. Their last name is Nikolopoulos which is a mouthful, so Nick got the name ‘Nick the Greek’ the second he stepped onto Academy property—and trust me, nobody envied him having to stencil his last name into his skivvies.”

  Brian rolled to his side and leaned on an elbow. “When his little brother, Mike, showed up three years later, all it took was Nick calling him ‘Mikey’ one time and that was it. Drives Mikey crazy too, but few people in the service actually like their nicknames. T
hey’re usually bestowed on them.”

  Brian was a natural storyteller and Daisy found herself lulled into the rhythm of his stories. Between a day well-spent volunteering, the gentle cadence of Brian’s words, and the late afternoon sun warming her—let alone the heat left over from those kisses in the surf—she hadn’t felt this relaxed and languid in a long time. She had no idea what the evening held, but was game for just about anything.

  “And then there’s Bill. He’s the one who’s married to Lacey. That’s who I’m staying with this week in Norfolk. They’re going to have a baby pretty soon. Man, that makes me feel old. My best buddy married and about to be a father. Anyway, you’d really like Bill and Lacey. They’re good people. Course you’d call them Philip and Hallie, since you don’t like nicknames.”

  Daisy knocked her beer over grabbing his arm, as puzzle pieces flew into place. “Philip and Hallie? Not Hallie McCabe? From the Blanchard bombing?”

  “Yeah, well they’re married now so her name changed.”

  “You know Hallie McCabe? The McHero who was all over the news a couple of years ago?”

  “Yeah, she married my buddy, Bill. I was best man in their wedding.”

  A fist closed around Daisy’s heart and squeezed. “You were on a Med-Evac flight with them? You were on the Blanchard when it was attacked?”

  “I was.”

  “In the Persian Gulf?”

  “Yeah.”

  Daisy’s heart hammered, her stomach churned. She attempted to keep her voice light.

  “And you were involved in...?” Combat? Were attacked? Could have been killed? Maybe killed somebody?

  “Yeah, I helped defend the ship.”

  Daisy found it hard to breathe. “Does that ever bother you?”

  And do you suffer from PTSD like Jack did?