Nerd and the Marine (16 page)

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Authors: D.R. Grady

Tags: #romance, #pets, #relationships, #military, #family, #marine, #nerds

BOOK: Nerd and the Marine
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Watching closer, he saw the stealthy
were all female. They moved together in a way that classified them
either as a team or family, so synchronized were their motions.
Each wore olive or dark green shorts and drab shirts. The ladies
also sported some heavy duty super soakers strapped across their
feminine chests.

Quiet reigned, which surprised Mitch.
He hadn't figured the Morrison women had quiet in them. Lainy was
the last to show and she carted a heavy looking backpack with her.
Bentley was nowhere to be seen. Mitch hoped he spent some quality
time with the men, rather than just tossing them into the
lake.

When Lainy showed, the women
brightened and down to the smallest, who looked to be about eight,
yanked their weapons from their shoulders. With a triumphant grin,
Lainy removed several thermoses from her backpack and handed them
around. The women filled their water guns with the
contents.

The liquid looked dark and fizzy and
Mitch had a premonition. Lainy confirmed his foreboding when she
extracted two cans of the stuff and tossed them to some of the
women near the back. The ladies delicately tapped the root beer
fizzies down before popping the cans and poured the contents into
their weapon of choice.

Lainy took another thermos from her
pack and filled her own super soaker, which was a doozy. Dual
chambered, the gun looked like it could hold at least two gallons
of water. Of course, the Morrison women wouldn't think to use such
an innocuous choice. They'd have to choose something sticky. And
his pet’s beverage of choice.

Soon the ladies sported black smudges
under their eyes, like football players. They each accepted a
granola bar and a bar of chocolate. Mitch heard Al lick his lips.
He handed the cookie container over. The ladies also sprayed what
looked to be mosquito repellant on themselves and then set off
through the forest again. They kept a near military precision
amount of distance between them.


Okay, ladies,” Lainy
whispered when they stopped, “you know your target. Our mission is
to make certain every male in this family who has dunked us in the
lake without our permission,” most of the women snorted at that
comment, “is doused with root beer. I checked and Bentley is
definitely with the herd near the lake. The men should return
soon.”


The root beer will
certainly improve how they smell,” an attractive older woman
commented dryly.


That's true, Aunt Emma.
Any questions?” Lainy grinned at the woman. The other women shook
their heads.


Very good, you all know
your target, correct?”

An enthusiastic nod of heads went
round the circle and with a militant gleam in their eyes, the
females set off to spots they must have chosen in
advance.

With a sense of anticipation, Mitch
kept his eyes on Lainy. For never having military training, she
performed well. She and the older woman faded into the background
and remained still. Some of the teenagers grew a bit antsy as time
passed, and the youngest looked like she'd fallen asleep. But many
of the women, Lainy's sisters included, remained silent and still.
Even Laurie, who'd just had a baby, appeared perfectly comfortable
in her perch on a low branch of an oak tree.

Lainy rested high up in another tree,
at perfect sniper range. What a well-rounded woman. In more ways
than one, he noted, as he took in the snug fitting T-shirt she
wore. He approved.

She leaned against the
trunk of the tree with a negligent grace, and didn't tap so much as
a finger or toe. Her finger, her
left
forefinger, he noticed with
interest, hovered near the trigger. A lefty.
Interesting.

The ladies waited almost with casual
indifference, with not a word or sigh uttered. They seemed content
to take in the antics of the forest and were perfectly happy to
wait. Each woman looked to be in a decent position to nail anyone
on a boat.

Mitch assumed most of the male
population, teenaged and higher, must be out on boats. From Aunt
Emma's comment about their smell, he figured they’d gone fishing.
He could think of easier ways to dunk a bunch of men, but was
interested in seeing how the women faired.A small fishing vessel
cleared the horizon and the women instantly went on alert. Super
soakers were pulled into ready position as the women poised for
action. Or for a directive from their leader. Eyes flicked to Lainy
and he wasn't surprised she was the leader of the little coup. With
her in charge, he didn't doubt their success.

The first boat bumped into the pier,
followed closely by three more fishing vessels. Several pontoons
floated in after those. Males of all ages and sizes began filing
off the crafts, rolling weary muscles and lugging some bountifully
stocked coolers by the way their muscles strained.

Mitch and Al both laughed when the
camera paused for a moment on several of the ladies faces. Their
scrunched, nearly painful, green nauseous looks spelled smelly.
None of the women went so far as to hold their noses, but the
stench emanating from the fellows looked rather obvious.


Hey, I don't see any of
the women,” one of Lainy's brothers commented, glancing
around.


How are we supposed to
throw them in the lake when they don't even come down to see us?” a
brother-in-law groused.


Probably up at one of the
cabins gossiping and eating,” an older man said with a
sniff.

The camera swung round to catch
Lainy's raised brow and caught the gleam in her eyes as she smiled
a rather devilish grin. The camera followed her gaze and Mitch saw
Bentley, obviously attracted by the men's catch and smell. He
sniffed around the coolers, his tail swishing in harmony with his
sniffing.

Lainy held up a finger and the ladies
raised their squirt guns as one. Another finger and each woman
shoved the weapon against her shoulder. Lainy's third finger
coincided with her order. “Fire!”

And the women let loose. Long sprays
of root beer shot from the huge barrels and doused the men in the
most synchronized shooting Mitch had ever seen. Al let out a hoot
of laughter that toppled him to the floor. Mitch ignored him, his
eyes focused on the laptop screen. He wanted to see Lainy and his
dog in action.

The men, thoroughly sprayed and
probably sticky, shook off the liquid, only a few of them catching
on as to the contents of the women's ammunition. Fewer still
noticed the big brown dog, now in a frenzy as he went for one man
and then the next. The other dogs, apparently not wanting to miss
out on the fun, took to the game, too. And man after man with a
canine, hit the water with a shout or exclamation, some blistering,
some hilarious, or both.

The women, as a swarm, left their
various posts, and howling, pumped the last of their ammo onto
their gleeful kids who took all the fun out of the game and leapt
into the water before Bentley or one of the other dogs could
assist. The men staggered to shore, and made grabs for the ladies,
who sidestepped them or pumped more root beer onto the man trying
to send her into the lake.

The ladies eventually made a hasty
retreat, laughing and heckling. Lainy, her nose now pinched between
her thumb and forefinger, pointed to the men in general and offered
one more command.


Shower.”

The screen went blank.

*****

Al, now back on his cot, offered his
thoughts on the video, “Your Lainy, she's something. You better
keep a tight hold on her, or someone else is going to snatch her,
bro.”

Mitch, still enjoying the remnants of
video watching, sobered. He knew that. It was only a matter of time
before Lainy realized not all men were jerks. Perhaps she'd already
come to that understanding and wanted to test her wings. Something
pierced his heart and Mitch hated the feeling. He wanted Lainy.
Completely. Totally. Absolutely.

He didn't want to share this amazing
woman. Why should he? Yet, what did he have to offer her? The
Atlantic Ocean separated them. He barely had enough toiletries to
live, and her family supplied those. Mitch had plenty of money in
the bank, but had little use for the funds in the
desert.

Besides, Lainy had her own
money. She didn't need his. She probably had a better brain than
him. Who knew? “
Who
cares
”, a little voice in the back of his
mind snarled. “
We're not giving her
up
,” the he-man in him decreed and Mitch
wondered how she'd take to that approach.

Al gestured that he was leaving and
Mitch responded with an absent wave before shoving a hand through
his hair. He clicked on the e-mail icon, wondering what he could
offer Lainy. Bentley came to mind, but she already had
him.

He saw an e-mail from her and was
mollified by her first paragraph. She hated that they'd be out of
contact for whole months on end. Already she didn’t like it, and
they hadn't even experienced the separation yet.

Her passionate response made him
smile. And her reply that he could hug her any time made him ache.
Mitch longed to give her a long, tight one. He wanted to feel her
pressed against him. To smell her. Maybe even hear her happy sigh.
He'd heave a big ole happy sigh if he could hold her in his arms.He
doubted he'd be able to let her go. After hugging her, he'd have to
concentrate to make his arms unwrap from around her. To free her.
He hated the idea of freeing her. Of letting her out of his sight
once he had Lainy. He wanted her. Forever. But how to convince the
woman of this? And what if her family hated him?

When no answer miraculously appeared
before him, Mitch reread her e-mail, loving how she seemed so
comfortable with him. He felt that way about her. Like he'd known
her most of his life. Pursing his lips, he then smiled.

 

To:
[email protected]

From:
[email protected]

Subject: I've been
thinking about

how comfortable I am with
you.

Hello Lainy,

Just read through your
e-mail and it occurred to me that I'm comfortable with you. I feel
like I can be myself. I'm normally quiet. Well, if you knew Al,
you'd understand it's difficult to get a word in, much less two,
when he's around. He comes from a big family too, and claims if you
don’t talk, you’re ignored. (Trust me, no one ignores
him!)

But I don't seem to have
any trouble writing lengthy letters to you. Normally, I'd write a
paragraph and that'd take about an hour. I'd be totally relieved to
send the message and it'd be a great accomplishment. But even from
the start I've not had a problem sending a fairly long letter (for
me!) to you. I don't usually open up to people. Maybe because I
have a family now?

Oh, by the way, the video
we just watched was about you and the ladies playing commando. I
must say, there might be something to families making excellent
tactical teams. Have you all practiced moving in such
synchronization or does that come naturally because you're all
Morrisons? Now wait, some of those women were sisters-in-laws, so
they wouldn't be related by blood. Hhhmmm. And maybe some were also
their relatives and not your blood? That's interesting. I thought
you moved so well together because you’re related, but now realize
that's not true.

So, you must have
practiced. Is this a normal thing each year? I'm figuring the usage
of root beer in your super soakers is new, due to Bentley's
arrival, but the game itself is not? The kids sure seemed to have a
great time. You ladies probably showed them a bad thing by filling
your squirt guns with sticky soda. Or did you learn this from the
kids? Smart of you to douse the men so near the lake. They had no
place to go but in.

Al watched with me and
laughed so hard he fell off his cot. He's a goofball. And because
of that, he's one of the most likable men I know. He's also an
incredible Marine and there's no other man I'd rather have at my
back.

He still wants to know if
your grandparents are willing to adopt him? I keep telling him they
have better sense, but you know how friends are. Well, Al's the
closest thing to family I have, I guess. His sister treats me
exactly like she treats him. Same with his parents.

I'm hoping this finds you
well and still enjoying your time at the lake. Hopefully you're not
spending all your time on your second laptop. This one runs well.
My only comment so far is that the sliding doors covering the
various outlets and drives prove tricky to open when encrusted with
sand. (Remember, everything here, including me, is encrusted with
sand.)

Not that the sliders are
impossible to open, they aren't at all, just a bit tricky. And the
doors are necessary, as there'd be sand inside the hard drives and
ports. This computer is a wonder. It's tough and that's a necessity
here in the desert.

Sorry about Bentley and
the fish and skunk bit. I wish I could have been there. Of course,
that would mean I'd have had to take a turn bathing him, and that's
not one of my favorite jobs. I usually took him into the shower
with me. It's easy to coax him in, just open a can of root beer.
He'll follow. (As you've seen.) He doesn't mind showers
as much as baths. I should have told you that.

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