Forgive & Forget (Love in the Fleet) (6 page)

“That I have to study. Which isn’t a lie. I’ve never outright lied to him.”

“Just by omission.”

“Oh, and I forgot. He invited me to a party at the Captain’s house tomorrow night.”

“No way.”

“Way. Course I’m not going, but I may see him after the party if it isn’t too late. Then we’re going sailing Sunday.”

“And then what? Come on, you gotta tell him. Look I hate to burst your bubble, but this whole thing is just a fairy tale if you can’t tell him the truth.”

“Yeah, thanks for reminding me, Fairy Godmother.”

“I say you tell him and let the chips fall where they may. Because Cinderella, if you don’t tell him soon, you’re going to turn back into a pumpkin
and
break Prince Charming’s heart.”

Chapter 6

Hallie closed her computer and checked her watch again. Nine thirty. Guess Philip wasn’t going to call or come by. Probably for the best. She had no business visiting his apartment anyway. How much she’d wanted to go up there the other night after dinner at Rebecca’s. They’d been like a couple of high school kids necking on the couch. She’d wanted him to kiss her all night and take away all her responsibilities.

But she couldn’t quiet the little voices in her head that kept whispering about what she’d read.

“
…personal relationships including dating, cohabitation, and any sexual relationship between officers and enlisted personnel are strictly forbidden
.”

So Hallie came to a decision. She would tell him the truth after sailing tomorrow and if he bolted, as she expected him to do, then so be it. If he wanted to continue secretly off base? That would be gravy. They’d figure out how to handle the cruise later. But somehow she doubted he’d break the rules. That was one of the reasons she liked him so much.

The ring tone of her phone pulled her out of her reverie.

Philip invited her up to watch a movie and have that glass of wine. Her heartbeat quickened at the thought of seeing him tonight. She thought long and hard before accepting, but what could a glass of wine hurt?

After she arrived, he debriefed about the party while she sipped her pinot grigio. She listened carefully when he shared stories of his fellow officers, because she knew some of them. Fortunately he didn’t mention her boss.

“Actually, the party pretty much sucked because you weren’t there.” His brown eyes were so focused on her she hoped he couldn’t see into her deceitful soul.

He picked up his phone and asked if he could take her picture, since she was looking so cute in braids tonight. Hallie’s heart raced. She reached out and covered the phone. “I’d rather you didn’t, Philip. I don’t like my picture taken.”

He cocked his head, questions in his eyes.

“Sorry,” she said. “It’s just that somebody took pictures of me in high school and Photoshopped them and they circulated through the school. People called me…‘Babe McCabe’ and…‘The McBabe.’ Guys had called me that in middle school, but it was worse after those pictures went around. It’s not that I don’t trust you, but it makes me feel uncomfortable.” Not a lie.

Just what she needed. Her picture on his desk in Engineering. Wouldn’t Trixie get a kick out of that? The fact that he might mention Hallie’s name to the wrong person—especially Trixie—was bad enough. Hallie swore to herself that she would tell him tomorrow after sailing. Period.

“That’s awful.” Philip reached for her. “I just wanted to capture how cute you look in those braids. Trust me. I’d never do anything like that.”

“I know. But we’ve only known each other a week—”

“Best week of my life.” He tried to smile but couldn’t move past the concern for her.

“I have some weird trust issues. Okay, Philip? Please be patient with me.”

Weird trust issues? No photographs? Bullied in high school? No parents? The woman had some baggage. There were landmines planted all around Hallie and Philip hoped he didn’t step on any more.

“Look, Hallie, I know we just met but I am crazy about you. I hope you know I’d never do anything to hurt you. You tell me what you want me to do—or not do—and I’ll do it—or not do it.”

Hallie reached out and stroked his cheek. “Thank you.”  

After putting in a movie, Philip slipped his arm around her on the sofa. He was still mulling over her reaction to photographs when he felt fingers in his hair. Turning to her, he found her smile slow, mischievous, and totally breathtaking.

“Sorry, but your curls are so tempting,” she said.

“Well, if you get to do that, I get to play with the golden tendril.”

“The what?”

“This.” He reached up and pulled it from behind her ear. “This is the golden tendril and it drives me crazy.”

“You don’t like it?”

“I love it.” He curled and uncurled the lock of hair around his finger. “That’s why it drives me crazy.”

He not only thought of Muslim women covering their hair but visions of military women in uniform came to him as well. How many times had he sat in boring staff meetings imagining himself letting down some female officer’s hair and then…Bound hair showed control, but unbound?

Wait. Why was he even thinking of women in uniform when he had Hallie right here and the golden tendril between his fingers?

And then they were kissing. Philip wasn’t sure who started it, but he wasn’t complaining. He wrapped his arms around her, and pulled her to him. Desire twisted in his gut as she returned his long, slow, deep, kisses, tongues searching, and finding.

A tiny purr in her throat just about undid him. She was liquid in his arms, tasting him, threading her fingers through his hair, kissing him deeper. He had no idea what kind of trust issues she might have, but he was powerless over her kisses. Heat curled inside him, threatening his control. True, he kept getting mixed messages from her, but her mouth was so hot. If she wanted him to stop, he would. 

And if she didn’t? He most definitely would not.

Leaving her mouth, he worked his way down to her neck. He buried his face in the hollow of her throat where he could breathe in her essence. Her fingers played in his hair as he tasted her skin, under her jaw line and behind her ears. When Hallie moaned, liquid heat shot through him. He laid her gently down on the sofa and returned to her mouth, leading with his tongue.

Lust chipped away at his ability to reason. His hand caressed her neck and slid down to her breasts. She shuddered and moaned, which kicked his pulse into overdrive. He cupped her breast, molding the fullness. Traced it. Over. Under. Around. First one. Then the other.

He gently stroked the centers and felt her nipples tighten through her blouse. She made a noise and he stopped, but his hand stayed put. He only left her mouth long enough to whisper into it, “Okay?”  She made another noise, but it wasn’t a stopping noise.

He deftly unbuttoned her top button. Then the next. And so on. He left her mouth to watch himself stroke her, her nipple puckering to his touch under purple lace. Hallie arched her back, meeting his hand. Unclasping the front hook of her lacey bra, her breasts spilled into his hands, slamming his heart into an even higher gear, something guttural in his throat. His thumbs scraped lightly over her nipples, gently fondling and stroking them. Her soft skin driving him wild.

Philip’s mouth left a trail of kisses down her neck and worked its way to a taut nipple, which he bathed with his tongue. He buried his face between her breasts, certain he had died and gone to heaven.

Then he kissed each goodbye, her nipples still shining wet from his mouth. Although he wasn’t sure if he was capable of speech, Philip brought his mouth to her ear. Without an ounce of coercion, he whispered, “Stay with me tonight. Let me love you.”

No begging. No pleading. Just an invitation.

Hallie bolted upright and pulled her shirt around her. Face flushed, stray hairs loosened from her braids. “I can’t.” She fought to catch her breath. “I’m so sorry, Philip.”

He dropped his forehead to the back of the sofa. “No, Hallie. I’m sorry. Just give me a minute.” His primal brain told him to say, “Belay my last,” meaning “forget my request, delete what I just said,” so he could go back to exploring her breasts for a couple more hours, but he didn’t listen. Especially since peripheral vision reported that she’d already hooked her bra and was buttoning her shirt.

While she pulled herself together, he gathered his wits, figuring out how he was going to function. She continued to apologize, but Philip raised his hand to quiet her. He didn’t have the strength to do anything else.

“I can find my way home.” She rose from the couch.

“No way.” Somehow he stood, held her briefly, and kissed her hair. She felt stiff in his arms. “I’m sorry, baby. Come on. I’ll take you home.”

Hallie smoothed down her blouse and finger-combed the golden tendril. “It’s really okay, Philip.”

He wanted to take her hand on the way down the stairs but he didn’t dare touch her. He’d overstepped his bounds. How many fricking steps did this staircase have anyway? Each step echoed
awkward
.

At her door, she tried to apologize again, but he put his finger to her lips. “Shhh. It’s okay. Are we still on for sailing tomorrow?”

She nodded a yes, and then hesitated as if thinking about something important before she spoke.

Uh oh, here it comes. Fuck off, dude?

“Philip…Thank you. For bringing me home. And…for being you.”

He kissed her quickly before she slipped through the doorway. Once she was safely inside, he rested his forehead against the wall, gathering the strength to walk back upstairs.

Go to bed, dumb ass.

Hallie couldn’t sleep. Over and over again, she relived lying in his arms, feeling his mouth on her. Wishing that the world, and her enlistment, would go away so she could have stayed with him and loved him all night. She drifted off to another world. A place where there were no words such as commissioned officer, accused, and violation of a written order.

And the only senior member that mattered was the one at the end of his happy trail.

All she knew was her breasts had never known such tender, teasing, trusting, hot kisses before. His fingers tweaking her nipples had electrified her. And when he’d drawn circles around them with the tip of his tongue she was certain she would explode. No way had she wanted to stop.

She wanted to make love with him.

She wanted to stay all night.

She wanted to stay with him forever. But she couldn’t.

And it wasn’t just his kisses that turned her on. It was him. The courteous way he’d behaved all week was so refreshing and new to her. She’d always had a problem with men hitting on her, so she’d learned to be careful. The few times she’d gotten into situations like tonight, men had tried their damndest to get her into bed. She’d never met a man who respected her wishes and respected
her
as much as Philip did. It wasn’t like they were sixteen-year-olds behind the bleachers. This was a twenty-seven-year-old man who had a woman in his apartment who had given him every indication she wanted to make love as much as he did. But instead of talking her into staying, he’d taken her home without an argument.

This was the man of her dreams. But he deserved better than what she was doing behind his back. No question about it. She’d tell him the truth tomorrow night. Right after sailing one last time.

And she’d better be prepared to sail off into the sunset.

Alone.

Chapter 7

Rashid was pissed. He arrived at the mall when it opened at noon, but his favorite restaurant was closed. He’d looked forward to his meal of pancit and lumpia all week. Yeah, like the food court at this dump was going to cut it. Oh, well. At least it was better than the chow on the ship. First he’d see if his sadiq, Ibrahim, was working today.

A trip through the mall was always an enlightening experience. He liked to people watch, and some of the merchandise was always good for a laugh as well. Especially some of the crap sold in the kiosks. Rashid asked himself: Who buys this shit?

An oversized gold-filled charm saying “Favorite Grandmother,” caught his eye. Yeah, his drunken grandma would get a kick out of that one. The merchant said, “You name it. We got it. And if we don’t, we’ll get it for you. Good price. Just for you.”

This booth had everything from gold Harleys to Stars of David to fake diamond rings, for Christ’s sake. A rhinestone-encrusted Jesus medallion caught Rashid’s eye. Funny, he’d never thought of Jesus as a rhinestone kind of guy.

His mind flashed to his new friends and their commitment to their god. Allah? Jesus? Hell, throw in Buddha for good measure. None of them had ever done a fucking thing for Rashid when people were screwing him over. But if the tangos wanted to do their thing in the name of some god, then more power to them. He sure wasn’t doing this for a religious belief. Or wait. Maybe he was. Sticking it to the Navy would be a certain kind of heaven for him. But he sure wasn’t going to shout, “
Allahu Akbar
,” when he detonated. Maybe “Fuck you, Uncle Sam” would work. The dumb rag-heads on the fishing boat could yell whatever they wanted.

“Peace be with you, my friend.” 

Rashid turned to find his contact had joined him. “Back atcha, Ibrahim. What are you doing over here? Checking out the competition? Who’s minding the store?”

“My brother is with me today. Perhaps you and I could go sit down and talk. Have something to eat, some tea. I have news for you.”

Rashid’s heart rate kicked up a notch.

They followed the cacophony of video games and pinball machines to the food court, ordered, and settled at a corner table. His new buddies had kept him apprised of details on a daily basis, but he didn’t dare access his personal email on the ship. He popped down to the Single Sailor Center on base most nights to check it.

“Remember, Ibrahim. Once I deploy I can only access my Navy email address. So be sure to remind our friends to watch what they say.”

“Yes, we are all aware of that. Thank you for the list of code words to use. We like the idea of pretending we are a girlfriend or lover.”

“I’m serious, man. It’ll all fall through, if they write anything that smacks of danger. All ship’s email is scrutinized by security. Especially on deployment. And be sure to tell them there will be times when I won’t have access to it at all. In a crisis the ship will just cut everyone off. Hopefully, we’ll be able to communicate all pertinent information before we get to K-Day though.”

Ibrahim cocked his head. “K-Day?”

A grin blossomed on Rashid’s face. “Yeah. For Kaboom.”

Ibrahim’s face reflected Rashid’s smile. “Go ahead and check your mail, sadiqi. I believe you will find some messages from our friends.”

Ibrahim stirred three packets of sugar into his tea and sipped it while Rashid connected to the Internet. How could he drink that sweet shit? There were two messages from [email protected]. “Have I told you how much I like the email account they’re using? Once they start writing to my navy email address, the security guards will never get suspicious about messages coming from such a loving address.”

“We study Americans to find the best ways to blend in. Some of our people have spent their whole lives here. They know the culture and details that a foreigner never would. What does Hot Mama have to say today?”

Rashid opened the first email. He glanced around the food court. There was no one close enough to hear. And the electronic sounds from the game room made for good cover noise, so he read it to Ibrahim. “The holy month of Ramadan ends on Eid al Fitr, which occurs on September ninth this year. Eid is a day of gift giving and fireworks. Think of it as a combination of your Christmas and Independence Day. Thank you for your part in helping us give the Americans a gift of fireworks on Eid this year.” He looked up questioningly at Ibrahim. “Does this mean what I think it means?”

“Yes, my friend. They are giving you the date. September ninth, because Eid is a very special day in our calendar.”

Heat rushed through Rashid’s chest. “It’s perfect because we’ll definitely be in the Gulf by September.” He paused, a triumphant grin on his face.  “But it’s even better than perfect. It’s brilliant. Because Uncle Sam will be so focused on security for September 11, they’ll be caught off guard by an early surprise.”

“That is good to know, my friend. What else do they have to say?”

Rashid clicked on the other message. “Send proposed schedule as soon as possible. Be sure to include liberty ports. It would be our pleasure to have friends meet with you. We have sadiqs everywhere.” He glanced up at Ibrahim. “Whoa. They want to meet me?”

“You are doing us a tremendous favor, Rashid. I believe they will want to thank you in person if the opportunity arises.”

“Even if I have a schedule of ports, not everyone gets to go ashore every time.”

“Certainly you will go ashore at some point. And like he said, they have friends everywhere. Just stay in touch and email Hot Mama if you find yourself visiting a port along the way—using the code of course. Do they say anything else?”

Rashid continued reading. “We have a faithful servant with fishing boats in several locales. As long as you are somewhere in the pond on the designated date, we will find you.”

Adrenaline rushed to every corner of his body. This was really going to happen.

The pond. The whole fucking Persian Gulf.

“This is awesome, Ibrahim. I can’t guarantee anything, except that we will most likely be in the Gulf on September ninth. Just remember, plans could change at any time.”

“No problem, my friend. Our man with the boats owns many dhows and will have five boats in two different ports.”

His heart stuttered, skipped a beat. He grabbed Ibrahim’s wrist. “Did you say five?”