Out of Time (Out of Line #2) (Volume 2) (18 page)

Is that what Finn was doing over there…wherever over
there
was? Guarding a politician? That didn’t sound too dangerous. I mean, it’s what he did for me.

I liked the idea of him following some rich snob around Europe. It was safer than the nightmares that plagued me every night. A knock sounded at the door and I lifted my head to call out, “Come in.”

“It’s me,” Mom said, peeking her head inside before opening the door all the way. Her faded red hair was pulled back impeccably in a tight bun, and her light green eyes sought me out. “Are you dressed?”

Her reactions never failed to make me smile. Did she really think I’d tell her to come in if I was naked on the bed? “Yeah, Mom. I’m dressed.”

She came in and closed the door behind her. Tinkerbell, Mom’s little terrier, whined from the hallway. “Tomorrow night’s the Wallington Annual Holiday Dinner.”

I almost rolled my eyes at how she used the
official
name for it, but held back.

“I know.” I slipped my phone under my pillow in case Finn wrote back. I mean, he used the name Susan—he’d even created a
[email protected]
account to stay in character—but I still didn’t like to risk it. I sat up and hugged my knees, resting my chin on them. “Dad reminded me last night.”

“I got you a new dress for it.” She reached out and smoothed her hand down my head in the way she always did when I was upset. I was trying to act all happy and cheery, but it was hard when a piece of me was gone. “We’re going to have some extra guests, too.”

“Okay…” I rolled my head her way. “Who?”

“Arnold and his family, the Christensons,” Mom turned her head and stared out the window, “and the Stapletons.”

Why did that name sound familiar?

“Sounds nice.” I wiggled my toes and sighed. “Do you need help setting anything up?”

She laughed, seeming to be relieved about something. “No, we hired temporary help so the normal help could relax before the big event.”

Ha. Only in
my
life would that sentence make total sense.

Finn would’ve laughed at that, too. My heart panged, and the happiness I’d found moments before simply faded. “Mom, can I ask you something?”

“Sure.” She crossed her legs and perched on the edge of my bed. “What is on your mind? Are you finally ready to talk?”

She wore a flawless pair of black dress pants and a light pink satin top. She looked every inch the lady. As a kid, I’d always wondered if I would turn out like her. If I would end up being soft spoken yet strong. Kind yet stern. Always the lady.

I didn’t think I would anymore. It wasn’t
me
.

“If I loved someone who wasn’t from our normal crowd, would you approve?” I met her eyes, curling my hands over my calves. “If he made me happy, would you accept him?”

She pressed her lips together. “I don’t know, dear. It would depend on the boy, I guess.” She turned to me, bending and sticking her foot underneath of her thigh. “Why? Are you seeing someone you don’t think we’d approve of?”

“No, not exactly.” I shook my head. “I like a guy who isn’t from our world. He’s not a Christenson or a Wallington.”

Mom nodded slowly. “Would he make your father’s campaign look bad?”

“I don’t think so, no.” Finn’s words echoed in my head. He’d said he wouldn’t fit in on the stage with us, with his tattoos and his motorcycle, but I didn’t care about that. “He’s not a criminal or anything.”

Mom sighed and rested her hand on my back. “Life is hard, and sometimes the heart doesn’t make much sense. Sometimes it knows best, and other times it’s wrong. You have to pay attention and decide when it’s right and when it’s off. If you’re questioning our acceptance of this boy, chances are this time it’s off and you know it.”

“
Mom
.” I stood up and spun on her. “That’s not true. It’s not wrong.”

“Are you sure about that?” She stood as well, remaining perfectly poised. “If you weren’t uncertain, you wouldn’t even have to ask. You’d just introduce us to this boy, and you’d be certain we would like him. Let’s count the ways this doesn’t add up.”

“It’s not that. I—”

“Hm. Let’s see.” She counted off on her fingers as she said, “Instead of telling us you have a boyfriend, you hide him and pretend he’s not real. Then you ask me if I’d like him even if he wasn’t one of
us
, whatever that means. Then you tell me the heart is right, even though it’s not.”

She had a point, but I wasn’t hiding him because of what she said. I was hiding him because of his job, and because he wasn’t
here
.

But I couldn’t tell her that, could I?

“It’s right and you’ll see it.” I put my hands on my hips. “When I’m ready to tell you about it, that is.”

“I’ll look forward to that time.” Her chin lifted. “Until then, I’ll assume we won’t like your boy, because you won’t tell us who he is.” Mom sighed and walked to my side, not even narrowing her eyes or acting the slightest bit angry. “If he makes you happy, we’ll like him.”

I nodded. “Then get ready to knit us matching sweaters for Christmas.”

“Good.” She inclined her head toward my closet. “The dress I bought you is in your closet. I had Frances put it in there this morning.”

“Thanks,” I said stiffly.

She started to walk away, but then stopped again. “You know, I’m not a snob. You seem to think I am. I’ve just been around a lot longer than you have. I’ve seen a lot more than you, and I know how the world works.”

“Maybe I want to change the world,” I said, lifting my chin.

“Maybe you will.”

And with that, she opened the door and left with Tinkerbell trailing behind her, like always.

I hated this fucking place. All I’d done for the past three weeks was eat sand, get shot at, almost get blown up twice, and miss Carrie. I walked around like some lovesick fucker who didn’t know how to live without a woman at his side.

And even worse? I was
absolutely
that fucking guy. And this assignment sucked donkey balls.

I’d been given three hours of down time, and I had every intention of using it to sleep and dream of her—even if it
was
seven o’clock at night. When you only got a handful of hours to sleep on any given day, you took them when you got them.

I closed my eyes and tried to pretend I was with her. We were laying side by side, our hands touching and her ankle thrown over my calf like she always did in her sleep. Or maybe we were about to get ready for the big Wallington Annual Holiday Dinner.

I think that was today or tomorrow…

I’d kind of lost track of time lately. All the days blended into one long, drawn out nightmare. It would have been the perfect night to tell everyone we loved each other. We would all be together, with the normal social hierarchy gone.

We could have stood up, entwined hands, and announced our love for each other. I would look her father in the eye and assure him that I would never hurt Carrie…

Knock, knock, knock.

“Come in,” I called out, sitting up straight and rubbing my eyes. Had I dozed off for a second there? It felt like it. “I’m up.”

Dotter popped his blond head in through the crack of the door. “We’re getting word of a disturbance up north about a mile. We have to go check it out.”

I was on my feet within seconds, shrugging into my bulletproof vest. “Yes, sir.”

He closed the door and I stomped into my boots, then grabbed my helmet off my bare bunk. I was halfway to the door before I realized I didn’t have the most important item with me. I crossed the room and snatched Carrie’s photo from under my pillow, tucking it securely inside my vest—next to my dog tags and over my heart.

As I walked out the door and nodded at my superior, he came to my side. “I heard a rumor we might be going home soon.”

I stopped walking. “She’s done exploring the rough and tough Middle East already?”

He snorted and opened the door. “I guess so. When she heard there was another disturbance she said maybe she would return home for the holidays. We might be stateside for Christmas.”

I grinned. “That’s the best news I’ve gotten all month.”

“I hear ya, Coram.” He slid into the Humvee and started the engine. I climbed up beside him, cocking my rifle and looking out the window. “Do you have a girl waiting for you back home?”

“Yeah.” I closed my eyes for only a fraction of a second, picturing Carrie’s sweet smile. I opened them when we pulled forward and onto the makeshift road. “You?”

“A wife and two kids.” He drummed his thumbs on the wheel. “If I could be home for Christmas for once, I’d be quite happy.”

“I’m sure they would be, too, sir.” I scanned the shadows for any movement, but all was quiet on the western front. Okay, maybe that was a bad analogy to make when I was in this fucking place. “God willing, she’ll realize she did enough pilgrimage and we’ll be all set to go home for the holidays.”

“From your lips to God’s ears,” Dotter said.

“I’m not seeing anything.” I looked over my shoulder. “What was supposedly seen here?”

“We had a report of a suspicious blue vehicle, lurking by the entrance of the compound. And someone heard some loud booms.” He shrugged. “Out here, that’s not exactly the weirdest thing in the world.”

“Damn straight.” I kept looking. Nothing. “I think we can head back, sir.”

“I think you’re right, but, first, let’s go west a little more.”

I nodded and turned back out the window, watching for any signs of life. But in my head, I offered up a silent prayer that God had been listening earlier. That we were going home early, and that this nightmare would be over.

But most of all? I prayed we walked away from this fucking mess alive.

Carrie

The night of the party, I stood in front of the mirror and smoothed the maroon satin over the tulle that made it poof out underneath. Mom had picked the dress, and it
so
wasn’t my style, but I wore it anyway. She’d gone through the trouble of finding it, so the least I could do was wear it once before I donated it to charity.

I looked at the necklace she’d bought for me to wear with it, but I didn’t pick it up. If I wore that, I’d have to take off Finn’s necklace, and that wasn’t something I was willing to do. Not even for Mom.

I picked up the necklace she bought and shoved it inside the drawer by my bed. Then I went back to the mirror and studied my reflection. I looked tired and miserable. There were humongous bags under my eyes, and my cheeks looked hollowed out a little, too, no matter how much blush I applied.

But besides that, I guess I looked okay.

The dress was pretty. My hair was swept into a pretty updo that Marie had coached me through, and I had soft pink lip gloss on my lips. I picked up my phone and snapped a picture, then sent it off in an email to Finn.

He would like this dress. It looked easy enough to remove.

I waited to see if I got a reply, but none came. That wasn’t a huge surprise. Communication from him was sparse at best, but I ached to get something from him. Anything. It was the only way I had of keeping track of him.

Of knowing he wasn’t lying dead somewhere. I shook my head, trying to ditch that train of thought before it ruined my halfway decent mood. My phone buzzed and I picked it up, my heart racing. It wasn’t Finn. It was Marie.
How’s it going?

I sent the picture I’d sent to Finn to Marie.
Good. Do I look okay?

A few seconds, then:
Geez, girl. Have you slept AT ALL?

Yeah.
I tapped the phone on my chin.
Okay, not much. I miss Double-oh-Seven.

As soon as I sent the message, I deleted it. She wrote back.
Ah. Well, it’s almost over. Then we can have some girl time. For now, go to that party (I’m assuming you’re going to a party) and have some fun.

I smiled.
I’ll try. Thanks for the pep talk.

And SLEEP.

I tossed my phone on my bed and headed for my door. The guests would be arriving soon, and I had to be there to greet them, or Mom would have a heart attack. I walked down the carpeted stairs, my hand gripping the white bannister at the end in case my heels decided to slip on the marble foyer.

Dad turned to me and smiled wide, his blue eyes lighting up. He smoothed his graying hair and held his hands out to me. “Ah, it’s my princess. Don’t you look beautiful?”

“Thanks, Dad.” I walked over to him, and he grabbed my fingers, squeezing them tight. “You look wonderful, too, of course.”

He hugged me and kissed my forehead. His familiar cologne washed over me, and I hugged him, closing my eyes as I rested against his chest. “Thanks, princess.”

“
Hugh
.” I heard heels come up behind me, and Mom said, “Watch the dress, you’ll wrinkle it.”

I looked up at Dad, rolled my eyes—which made him laugh—and turned to Mom. She headed toward us, Tinkerbell at her heels. Even the dog had dressed up for the occasion. She wore a red satin bow around her neck. “Well, you both look pretty. Very festive.”

Mom wore a deep crimson dress that flowed to the floor in elegant swirls, and diamonds in her ears that would probably make the Queen of England jealous. She did a little twirl, her heels clacking as she did so, and leaned forward to kiss my cheek.

“So do you, dear,” Mom said, smoothing her dress, even though it was flawless. Tinkerbell shot between her legs, tongue hanging out in excitement. “The first guests should be arriving soon. The house staff and guards are already drinking champagne in the dining room.”

“Should I go in there with them so they’re not alone?”

Mom shook her head. “No. You should wait here and greet our guests.”

“Did you tell her that the Stapleton boy is coming tonight, Margie?” Dad nudged me with his elbow. “That’s an
excellent
family if I do say so myself. Their son, Riley, is going to school in San Francisco.”

Now I knew why I recognized that freaking name. That’s the guy mom had been trying to marry me off to. No wonder she’d been so nervous when she mentioned their name yesterday. This was a setup. A date of sorts.

I turned to Mom and smiled, even though it probably looked more feral than kind. Her cheeks were flushed. “Oh, how
lovely
. I can’t wait.”

Dad patted my arm. “You’ll like him. He has the same beliefs as us.”

Then I probably wouldn’t get along with him
. But I didn’t say that. “I can’t wait,” I said, smiling so wide it hurt my cheeks.

Laughter came from the dining room, and more joined in. The house staff and guards sounded like they were having a blast. I wanted to go in there with them and sneak a drink, but I forced myself to stand still. To play the part of dutiful daughter.

Soon enough they would see it was all an act. I loved them, and I was their daughter, but I wouldn’t be their pawn. Not anymore. I pasted a smile on when the doorbell rang. Time to play the part.

“They’re here,” Mom said, clapping her hands excitedly.

“I’ll open it, you two stand there.” Dad headed for the door, his steps wide and sure. “Ready, girls?”

“Ready,” Mom said.

They were acting like this was some huge thing, but we were standing here in dresses and heels like idiots. Even Tinkerbell stood at attention, for the love of God. This is why I’d never be like my mother. I felt like an idiot—and rightly so. I mean, why were we so freaking special that we were lined up like royalty on an episode of
Downton Abbey
?

It was
stupid
.

“Happy holidays,” Dad boomed, clapping some gray-haired man on the shoulder. “Arnold, how good to see you.”

I stiffened at the familiar name. He was the man responsible for sending Finn away. Even if he was helping, right now I didn’t like him. His eyes clashed with mine over Dad’s head. “It’s a lovely night out for a party.”

Dad nodded and laughed. “Indeed it is. Though it’s not as nice as that California weather, is it?”

Arnold shook his head, his eyes still on mine. “Not quite. Right, Carrie?”

“Uh, right.” I lifted my chin, raising my voice to be heard over Tinkerbell’s incessant barking. “Nice seeing you again, captain.”

He came to my side and dropped a kiss on my head. “I trust you’ll be wanting to speak with me tonight?” he asked quietly.

“You’d be right,” I gritted out. “After dinner.”

“I’ll meet you in the drawing room,” he agreed, squeezing my hand before moving on to my mother. “Darling, you look fabulous.”

I smiled and greeted his wife and two young children, then took a steadying breath. I had a lot of questions for him, but they would have to wait for now.

The doorbell rang again, and Dad opened it. Tinkerbell barked even louder. “Ah, hello, hello. Happy holidays,” Dad boomed. “Come in. It’s great seeing you again, Chris.”

Chris. That didn’t tell me which one this was. But then I saw the guy with him—young, tall, blond, and
really
hot—and I knew right away. It was the Stapletons.

My intended family…if my family had their way.

Dad beamed at me. “Ah, Riley. Carrie is home, so you won’t be drowning in old people talk tonight.”

“Sir, I must be old myself, because I’ve never been bored.” He placed a hand on Dad’s arm and met my eyes, his smile widening. He had dimples. Freaking dimples. “But I must confess, I’m excited to get to know you better, Carrie. I’ve heard so much about you.”

I pasted on my generic smile and extended my hand, shaking his. His hand was rough and huge on mine, and he seemed friendly enough. If I had met him on this level before I’d met Finn, maybe he would have stood a chance with me. Unfortunately for him, he wasn’t Finn. “I hope it was all good.”

He laughed, deep and rumbly. Tinkerbell hopped up on hind legs, whining at his feet. Riley squatted down and pet her, grinning. “Indeed.”

“Good.” I bent over and whispered. “Then they were lying.”

His smile slipped for a second, but he laughed and straightened to his full height again. Tinkerbell slinked back to Mom’s side. “I think we’re going to get along nicely, you and I.” He held out his arm. “Shall we go get a drink?”

I made a face. “I’m not old enough.”

“I won’t tell,” he whispered. “Come on, cutie.”

I raised a brow. “
Cutie
?”

“Too soon?” He sighed. “I thought since we were getting along so well, we were there. Nicknames and all that.”

“Uh…” I eyed him, torn between genuinely liking him, and not wanting to lead him on. He might be handsome and he might be a catch, but he wasn’t mine to catch. My hook was already taken...or whatever fishing metaphor fit in this situation. I wasn’t exactly the fishing type. I leaned in and dropped my voice. “Look, I have a boyfriend. My parents don’t know about it, so they didn’t tell you, but I do. Have a boyfriend. Who I love.”

He held a hand to his heart, his other arm still extended to me. “You wound me. What part of my drink invitation said ‘I’m looking to get into your pants’? I must’ve missed it, because I’d swear I simply asked you to keep me company in a dining room—not my bedroom.”