“It’s good,” I reply. There's not much I can tell him, and he knows that better than anyone else. Things with Kyle are easier than I thought they would be, because there’s no pressure to explain things that I can’t. He just blanket accepts what I can and can’t talk about, and it takes a huge weight off my shoulders. “It’s quiet. Not much going on.”
“How are the boys?” I know that he means Cinco and Hooter, my two best friends.
“Ridiculous.” I laugh. “Cinco has like four women sending him care packages, and none of them know about the others. Hoots is blackmailing him with the info.”
“What’s he extorting from him?” Kyle asks with a laugh.
“Cookies. They all send baked goods!” I cackle. “They are soooo good. I need a woman who bakes.”
“My goodness, Mack,” he asks with feigned shock. “Are you eating another woman’s baked goods?”
“Yes,” I answer solemnly. “Yes, I am.”
“Good. That shit better share.”
“You could send me baked goods,” I tease with a wicked gleam in my eyes, and I can hear the guys in the background crowing with laughter. Fortunately for me, Kyle is confident in himself and our relationship. He can take a little ribbing from time to time. Once upon a time, I had worried that he would be intimidated by being with a strong woman, but he just gets off on it. He loves that I’m strong and independent and thinks it’s sexy as hell.
“The only cookie I’m interested in is yours,” he says, making me gulp. Oh how quickly he turned my words against me and I squirm in my chair. His knowing smirk shows me that he knows exactly what he’s doing to me, the loveable jerk. “And I can wait until you get back to eat it.”
“Times up, Lone Star!” someone shouts, shaking me free from the erotic image flitting through my mind of Kyle on his knees in front of me while he eats me up.
“Wow, saved by the bell.” I laugh nervously. I’m awkward as hell and it’s a little embarrassing.
“Yeah,” he says, but he looks a little, I don’t know…sad. Saying goodbye hasn’t gotten any easier. Whether it’s on skype, on the phone, or over email, it doesn’t matter. Parting isn’t “sweet sorrow” it just sucks.
“I’ll try to call tomorrow,” I tell him. Even though it’s not a guarantee that we will be able to connect, I still try. I’ll keep trying every day that I can because I realized that Kyle Garrett is different from any other man I’ve dated before. I’m not going to throw away what we have just because I’m scared. I’m going to put in the work and be the partner that he deserves too, I’m going to give back a little bit of what he gives me.
“I’ll be waiting.”
And then we disconnect, and I move to join the guys for chow.
It’s been a while. We talk on the phone every other day, but the video chats are limited to twice a month so that everyone can get a chance to use the computers at least once if they want to. I waited, not wanting to take precious time away from those who are married or have kids. But this time was different. Should I have told him how I feel? No. I’m glad I didn’t. I need to wait. I need to tell him in person. And I will when I get home. When we’re in bed. And naked. Not half a world away.
Coming from a military family, my parents and siblings all know they will hear from me when I can or, if worst-case scenario happens, a casualty assistance call. It’s a very real possibility.
This deployment isn’t as hairy as others. We’re not engaging. Our squadron is just flying support for patrols. The likelihood that someone is going to just fall out of the air is few and far between. Not to mention, the air base we’re at is locked up tighter than Fort Knox. I’m probably safer here than I am in the States. And Ryan knows this.
I’ve always known he uses his position to keep tabs on Amelia and me. He’s the oldest and feels it’s his given right. Amelia is the sister who butts heads with him whenever she feels like he’s crossed some invisible boundary that we all know Ryan is going to tread all over. I, on the other hand, like to go about my business and keep a low profile so that our dear, sweet big brother doesn’t feel like he has to intervene. It’s a win-win situation.
I should have called Ryan, just to talk for a minute. I should have walked to the payphone and called home just to hear a comforting voice, to tell them I love them and that I’m okay. But I didn’t. I rationalized that Ryan is busy and I didn’t want to worry my mom and dad. They have enough to worry about with all three children grown and serving in the military.
I should have called them. I should have told them that I loved them. Now I’ll never get the chance. Life’s a bitch and then you die.
Chapter Thirteen
Kyle
Same old, same old
Acid churns in my gut as I sit in a dark SUV and watch my mark.
MacKenzie need not worry about me stepping out on her whether she’s overseas or stateside, because running some stakeouts to pin down cheating spouses for a local PI while I get my feet wet with Cole Security has done nothing but make me realize how good I have it—not that I had any doubts.
This couple, for instance, are both cheating on each other, and they’ve both hired the same private investigator to find evidence of the other’s infidelity so they won’t have to pay out the settlement. The husband has a new secretary and the wife a new tennis pro. I can’t imagine being in a relationship like that. On the surface, no one knows they’re splitting up, and behind closed doors they can’t stand each other. I can’t imagine being married and having a side piece. When I was a single man about town, I never stayed in one place long, but I also never committed and strayed. That just doesn’t sit right with me and it never has.
In fact, since I met MacKenzie, I haven’t noticed another woman, at least not in that way. There’s just something special about her. Whether it’s the slow southern twang she speaks, her intelligent and thoughtful mind, or her legs that go on for miles that call to me, I don’t know. What I do know is it’s not one thing about her; it’s everything. MacKenzie Black is the full package. And I’m beginning to realize she’s the only one for me.
I raise the camera in my hands and look through the viewfinder. I fiddle with the lens until it all comes into focus and snap a few pictures of the wife and her coach playing a round of naked mixed doubles. I can’t help but cringe. They do not paint a pretty picture. Yikes! I wonder what MacKenzie and I look like when we fuck. Maybe she’ll be up for some mirror play when she gets home, but for now I’m stuck watching horrible people play hide the salami.
