Marine Ever After (Always a Marine) (11 page)

The doctor shook his head. “His parents here?”

“Mom’s there with him, Dad went to get coffee and walk off his mad.”

“Got it. See you soon.” And Zane was off to deal with his patient.

She managed to grab some soup and a sandwich, courtesy of one of the nurses who ran across the street. Although Lillianna would kill for the espresso making the rounds—she’d been cut off for months. After six, a fresh wave of arrival ambulances delivered their first fatality of the day. A head-on collision and then the night went downhill.

All the beds were full and she turned the desk over to a night nurse and left the student to process papers as she triaged the incoming. A young man in a uniform arrived with a gash across his head.

“I’m fine,” he mumbled. “Just let me get back out there.”

“Sir, can you tell me your name?” She used a penlight to test his pupil response. Concussion and blood loss were the initial concerns, but the lack of pupil receptivity in his right eye suggested deeper issues.

An intern slid to a halt next to her, she filled him in on the vitals, and he started issuing commands. The younger doctor started his day out cocky, but the series of traumas wore away the edge. She stepped aside to allow them to wheel the gurney on, and the patient lashed out and grabbed her arm.

“Ease up there, guy, it’s okay.” The intern braced his arm, ready to help.

“It’s okay.” Lillianna smiled down at him. “I know this is scary, just breathe. We’re going to help you. Can you tell me your name?”

“Justin,” he slurred. But she could detect no obvious scent of alcohol. “Jush-stin Monroe.”

“Okay, Mr. Monroe. My name is Lillianna, and this is Dr. Preston. He’s going to take care of you. Do you know a number I can call?” But his eyes were closing.

“We need to move, Hansen,” the intern snapped.

She extricated her arm and noticed the chain around the patient’s neck. Extracting it, she scanned the dog tags and wrote down the social security number. “Go, I’ll track the family.”

Fortunately, a military background helped. It took her ten minutes of calls, but she got in touch with the young man’s CO and he promised to reach out to the family. Back aching, she glanced at the clock.

It’s going to be a long night
.

***

It was nearly four in the morning by the time she arrived at her apartment. Her body was one long, ache. And she didn’t think she’d ever been so tired. Several packages sat on the floor of her entry hall. A sticky note on top said her neighbor put them inside before the trick-or-treating started. Each package had been addressed to her, but said,
do not open ’til Christmas
.

Too tired to care about that
. She paused in the kitchen for a peanut butter sandwich and a cup of tea. She’d showered and changed before leaving the hospital, but food was critical. She probably should have slept at the hospital, too. But she hated the narrow beds in the on-call room, her rapidly expanding stomach made sleep uncomfortable enough.

Still nursing the hot tea, she headed to her bedroom, stripped and climbed between the cool sheets. The beauty of a hellish Halloween shift was the freedom of three days off ahead of her. She could sleep for as long as she needed. Grabbing her phone, she tried to calculate the time difference…it had to be the middle of the day in Germany.

Is Paul teaching?
She frowned. He didn’t care when she called, in fact, he insisted that she call him because he didn’t want to wake her up. Apparently it was okay if she woke him, but not the other way around. Frankly, she didn’t even remember what day of the week it was.

Her eyes drifted closed and she fought the sleep swamping her. She promised to call him after the Halloween shift. He’d been worried about her and as terrifically sweet as it was, she told him she could handle it and she had. Unlocking her phone, she hit his number. As often as they talked, she’d added it to her favorites.

He answered on the second ring. “Are you okay? Did you forget to call?” Edgy concern frayed the words.

Barely able to contain her yawn, she sank back against the pillows. “No, I am calling. I just got home. I didn’t want to interrupt class.”

“They’re fine.” Irritation echoed under his words though. “Didn’t you go on shift at like eight yesterday morning?”

“Uh huh. Long day, longer night. But I have the next three days off and I plan to sleep and watch television and eat ice cream until I’m sick of it.” Another yawn punctuated the words. “But I promised I’d call. So I’m home. Safe and sound.”

“You’re killing me.” His tone softened. “You sure you’re okay?”

“Just really tired. Exhausted to my bones and planning to sleep for as long as I can—the shy and retiring one is zonked at the moment.” She dragged the covers up and turned off the light, snuggling down with the phone still at her ear. “How’s your day going?”

“Same shit, different day. Can you call me later after you’ve had some sleep?” The man had a delicious voice, even all tinny and distorted by the cell phone. She liked the way he sounded, how he caressed her with words, and while she didn’t want to admit it…turn her on from several thousand miles away. Their phone calls were her favorite part of the week. They alleviated her loneliness.

“I’d like that. Don’t work too hard.”

“You let me worry about that. Want me to talk to the bump for a bit?”

“Nah, he…she…it is quiet.” She yawned again, already drifting. “’Night, Paul…talk soon.”

“’Night, sweetheart. Sweet dreams.”

***

By the time Thanksgiving rolled around, the weather turned frigid with biting, winds slicing out of the north. Lillianna didn’t mind the cold; the baby kept her pretty damn toasty, even if the wind nipped at her ears and froze her nose. She was supposed to take the Thanksgiving shift, because Paul would be there for Christmas. But the nurses got together and four of them were taking her holiday shifts and donating their pay to her.

She would have planned a visit with her parents in New York, but she didn’t find out about the surprise ‘work-in’ until the day before. One trip to the grocery store later, she settled in with a small turkey in the oven, stuffed with homemade breading, and diced zucchini for grilling when everything else was ready. She’d be eating turkey sandwiches for a week. She navigated around the rapidly growing pile of boxes, more came each day it seemed. Every single one said don’t open ’til Christmas. Curiosity plagued her, but she did her best to keep them all closed.

While the food cooked, she did her nails, paid her bills and watched several of her DVR’d shows. Oddly, pregnancy gave her more time at home and after seven years of working every holiday, left her with very little idea of what she should be doing. The oven dinged and she sent a text to Paul. Maybe he didn’t have anything to do on Thanksgiving, either.

Whatcha doing?

He texted back immediately.
Watching football with the guys. Thought you were working.

Taking the turkey out first, she set it on a cutting board and got the zucchini started before retrieving her cell phone.
Nope. Girls gave me the day off with pay for my present. I’m making a dinner and about to sit down and eat it while I watch a movie
.

The scent of the fresh roasted meat aroused her appetite and her stomach growled with enthusiasm. She stirred the zucchini, lightly browning it and spoiled herself with a bottle of sparkling cider. No wine, no coffee, and only a little bit of chocolate here and there. Add celibacy and swollen feet to the package and she was a basket of fun.

Her phone chirped.
What movie?

Something action. Probably a Bourne flick
. She’d missed the most recent release and she liked Jeremy Renner.

Give me fifteen
. Her phone buzzed. She stared at the phone and frowned and typed
okay
. Fixing her plate, she had to heat some rolls in the microwave and she was ready. After putting up the extras, she carried her plate, glass and bottle of cider out to the living room. In addition to Bourne, she’d rented a half dozen other movies ranging from musicals, to romantic comedies, to action films. Flipping through her options, she nibbled on a piece of turkey.

Her phone buzzed.
Turn on your computer and open Skype
.

Curious, she fetched her laptop from the bedroom desk and carried it back into the living room. Flipping it open, she turned it on and nibbled another piece of turkey. After starting the program, she connected to the Internet and waited. A phone ring filled the silence and she double-clicked to answer it.

Paul’s face filled the screen. “Happy Thanksgiving, sweetheart.”

“Hey,” she laughed. It never occurred to her to Skype him. They always talked on the phone. “How did you know my Skype address?”

“It’s not that hard to figure out. And I asked Rebecca.” He grinned. “It was supposed to be a surprise for your birthday next week. But since you’re home today….”

He looked so good. Tears flooded her eyes and she blinked rapidly. “That’s—wow…you look great.”

“Hey, are you okay?” He frowned and leaned closer, as though trying to get a better look at her.

“I’m fine…pregnancy makes me really hormonal.” She sniffled. She’d enjoyed her day off, shopping and catching up on her personal stuff, even the food was fun, but lonely.

“You are just as beautiful as I remember.” His smile was just as sexy as she remembered.

She rolled her eyes. “I’m a mess. I’m dressed for comfort. Like how I’m rocking the PJs here?” Shifting, she showed off the black and white zebra print flannels. Most of her clothes were too tight and she divided her time between scrubs and stretching pants, but even they were going to have to be let out.

“You’re gorgeous…shift the camera and let me see the belly and then back to that beautiful face of yours.” Funny how he made an order sound like a caress, but she obeyed. She sucked her stomach in even if it had no visible effect and then settled back, angling the screen so the internal camera focused on her again.

Balancing her plate on a knee, she pulled her hair back into a loose ponytail at her nape. She hadn’t straightened it or done much of anything that day. At some point, she needed to make an appointment and get it trimmed and styled, but since she wore it up most of the time, no one would notice except her.

“So how does one celebrate Thanksgiving in Germany?” Her voice went husky. She didn’t really care how they celebrated the holiday; too busy drinking in the sight of him.

He looked…stronger somehow, even better-looking than when she’d met him. His tan had faded some, and there was a shadow of stubble on his chin and cheeks. “One of the officer’s wives hosted a dinner for all the singles, we ate around noon and then we watched a game someone recorded. Not one of the Bowls, but it’s like a slice of home. I skipped out when you texted though, I’d rather spend it with you.”

“Yeah?”

“Hell, yeah. So, what movie are we watching?”

“Well, I was thinking Bourne…but you can’t see the screen there.” She ate another bite and watched his grin grow.

“No, but I have a screen and I’ll just buy the movie and we can start at the same time and watch it. What did you fix?”

“Turkey, some stuffing and zucchini and….” she reached over and held up her wine glass. “Sparkling cider for the maternal order.”

He laughed. “Mind waiting a sec while I get beer and popcorn?”

“Hmm.” She mock scowled. “That’s mean. You get alcohol and I don’t.”

“Fair enough. I’ll get water and popcorn. Since Mama can’t have it.”

She laughed. He was easy. “I’ll be here.”

“Good.” He vanished off the screen for a minute and she ate, a silly smile playing around the corners of her mouth, all traces of loneliness fleeing her soul. Setting her plate aside, she put the DVD in the player and cued to the beginning of the movie before settling back on the sofa and angling the computer so she could see him and screen. She might need to get the power cord…with a groan, she rose and fetched it from the dining room where she usually charged the laptop and carried it over. A little bit of struggling and stretching, she plugged it in and sat back down.

Damn belly got in the way of everything. She laughed at the direction of her thoughts and then giggled harder when she saw Paul peering at her. “What were you doing that required all that grunting?”

“Plugging the laptop in. I didn’t want to lose you while we watched the movie.”

“You can’t lose me,” he promised. Anyone else might have made that sound like a line, but a shiver raced over her. “Okay, popcorn. Check. Water.” He showed her the bottle. “Check. You good to go there?”

“Yep, but I apologize in advance for the frequent potty breaks.”

“Duly accepted and forgiven. Go.” They hit play at the same time, but if anyone asked her later, she wouldn’t have been able to tell them what happened in the movie.

She spent most of it watching Paul.

And God help her, missing him.

Chapter Nine

“Master Sergeant?” The corporal saluted from the doorway and waited for Paul to nod to him. “Sir, we’ve concluded with all classes for this term?”

“Yes, Corporal Barnes. We have. Those of you who received acceptable scores will graduate to the next level of training.” Special Intelligence assignments required men from all levels and pay grades. They did work in and out of uniform and had to be prepared to blend into a region if the mission required it.

“Sir, may I ask if I received that grade?”

Barnes excelled in the class, but suffered from arrogance. He expected to do well, and didn’t always put forth the effort. If he learned to temper his pride, he’d go far. “You can ask Corporal, but you’ll find out when the scores are posted and you receive your orders.”

The man’s mouth flattened. He didn’t like the answer. Paul didn’t look at him directly, but watched him from the corner of his eye. He knew he appeared to be studying the reports in front of him. It chewed on Barnes that he refused his request. The young man would benefit from a lesson in patience.