The Elite: The Complete Series of Boomer and Player (With Bonus) (2 page)

I smiled as I cruised to a gentle stop at the end of the runway. “Smooth as butter.”

* * * *

After a quick debrief with my plane Captain and flight team, I hustled across the base to Captain Collins’ office. His door was open, but I rapped my knuckles on it anyway. A sign of respect. Collin’s looked up from a stack of papers at the sound and I saluted, before he flagged me into the room. “Lieutenant McGuire. At ease. Take a seat.”

“Captain,” I replied, ducking my chin. I sat in the seat he indicated and crossed my right leg over the other, ankle to knee.

Collins’ slipped his reading glasses from his nose and dangled them from one hand. “How was your work-up flight?”

“Everything’s on point. No issues.”

Collins nodded vigorously, but his eyes were distant, as though he was only halfway listening. “Good, good. Listen,” he brought his focus back to me. “McGuire, I know this upcoming cruise must sound like old hat. You’ve been there, done that.”

I bristled at his statement, unsure of where it came from. I’d never treated an operation like it was anything other than the life or death situation that it was. There were plenty of guys in the squad that had a cavalier attitude about it, as though we were going over there for some elaborate version of the soldier games we played as boys—I was
not
one of them. But, I kept my mouth closed—not wanting to jump ahead of him.

“You’re a leader here, McGuire. Everyone looks up to you, and I want you to know that it hasn’t gone unnoticed.”

Relief flooded my chest. “Thank you, sir.”

Collins steepled his hands together and stared at me for another long moment. “When you get back, there’s going to be a new opportunity for you. As much as we want you here, there’s some interest from a unit on a three-year tour over in Germany. It would be a leadership role, of course, and put you on a fast track to the next level in your career. I don’t know all the specifics yet, but from what I’ve been hearing from up the chain, the job is yours if you want it.”

The information sunk in slowly. I’d never expressed an interest in going overseas, but it wasn’t something I was opposed to either. Especially if it would mean reaching Lieutenant Commander at an accelerated pace. Truthfully, it was an honor to even be in the running for another promotion. “Thanks for letting me know, Sir. I’ll certainly take it into consideration.”

Collins stood and I followed suit. “You’re a good man, McGuire. I know you’ll make the right decision when the time comes.” He shook my hand and then came around his desk to walk out with me. We walked down the corridor together, chatting about the flight specifics, until we parted, each taking a different turn at the end of the hall.

I checked in to say goodbye to the rest of the guys, assuring them I’d be back in two weeks in time to ship out. I grabbed my gym bag and headed out to the Black Stallion. It was odd to be leaving when there was still so much daylight to burn. I normally worked a full day, most of the time staying long after everyone else had called it a night, but I had put in for a half day in order to get things ready for my leave. As much as I loved my job, and never shied away from work, it felt good to rip out of the parking lot early, knowing I didn’t have to be back again for two full weeks.

* * * *

“You all set to go, Boomer?” Player asked when I called him later that evening.

I glanced at the bags by the front door, mentally running through my checklist again, before answering. “Sure am. Believe me, I blazed outta work today.”

He laughed. “Yeah right. You’re a chronic workaholic. You probably
just
got home.”

I smirked and didn’t bother arguing with him. He knew me too well. When he was in the Navy, Player had been a work horse when he needed to be, but he’d also had no problem slowing down and having as much fun as he could get away with. He’d made an amazing leader because of his ability to rally everyone together and bond over stupid shit, often making up games to play when we were stuck in the middle of the ocean, with no source of entertainment, but he was also a gifted pilot and I’d fly with him anytime—especially in combat.

“What about your Princess?” He asked, a smile still audible in his voice.

I shifted the phone to my shoulder to crane around and check the kitchen. “She’s busy babysitting my dinner plate at the moment, but yeah, I’d say she’s ready for a little beach time herself.” I snapped my fingers and my yellow lab, Princess, tore her eyes away from longingly staring up at my dinner on the edge of the counter to look at me. She wagged her tail and trotted over to my waiting hand. I scratched her ears and she sat next to my feet. “Thanks again for agreeing to watch after her while I’m gone.” My heart ached at the thought of leaving her behind for six months, something I did my best not to think about normally.

“No prob. I promise to send a nauseating amount of pictures, if that’s what you need,” Aaron replied.

I laughed. “Thanks man. Well, hey, I’m gonna get to dinner before my girl here beats me to it, but I’ll shoot a text over when I head out in the morning.”

“All right, Boomer. Looking forward to it.”

I hung up the phone and set it on the counter as I crossed back to the kitchen to grab my dinner. Princess followed me into the living room and took her normal place on the couch beside me. I smiled down at her. “I’m gonna miss this, girl.”

I’d adopted Princess as a puppy nearly four years ago, and other than when I was on a tour overseas, she was my constant companion. I even took her to the base a few times a week to keep me company at work when I knew I’d be working overtime. I’d had to leave her behind twice before, and it never got any easier. My parents had always been the ones to watch her in the past, but since they had moved to Florida, Aaron had volunteered to take her.

“You’re gonna love hanging out with Player, Princess. You’ll get to run the beach every day, chase sea birds, sticks, all that good stuff.” She rolled her brown eyes up at me and I wondered if she was sensing that I was going to be leaving soon. I scratched her head again and offered her a piece of chicken from my plate. She perked up right away and gobbled down the scrap. “God, I’m such a sucker.”

Growing up, my family never had any pets. As a military family, we moved from base to base every few years and my mom had always argued that it would be too much to deal with if we had a houseful of pets. Princess was my first dog, and I’d known from the moment I spotted her at the local pet shelter, that I had to take her home with me. She had an easy temperament and was a source of peace and calm that I hadn’t realized I’d needed, until she arrived. Within weeks of adopting her, she’d wiggled her way into my heart—and taken over my bed—and had eased a deep loneliness that I’d been subconsciously ignoring up until that point.

Some of my buddies called me out for preferring to spend a night in with Princess and a movie than go out drinking or dancing, but most of them were a handful of years younger than I was, and while, at age thirty, I wasn’t exactly too old to go out and get messed up, that lifestyle had lost its appeal over time.

Especially when my alarm was permanently set to five AM.

While most of my friends and fellow pilots were looking ahead, one night at a time, I was preoccupied with the rest of my life and had reached a point where I was no longer able to ignore the desire to meet someone special, settle down—at least, as much as a military life would allow—and have a family of my own. Adopting Princess had been the first step in that discovery process.

I just hadn’t found anyone that hit me like lighting and made me see the potential of a lifelong love that my parents had shared for forty years.

I sighed and absently pat Princess’s back. “You don’t think I’m boring, do you?”

Princess blinked and used my distracted state against me, by reaching over into my lap and snagging a scrap of chicken off my plate. I sighed and leaned forward to put the plate on the coffee table, out of her reach. “Yeah, yeah. I know, you’re just here for the food.” Princess wagged her tail, and I laughed at her guilty expression. “All right, let’s call it a night.”

On my way back to the kitchen to put my plate in the dishwasher, I caught sight of the clock. It was barely nine o’clock.

“God, I
am
boring.”

Chapter Two

Holly

The date that had been circled, drawn over with highlighter pens half a dozen times, and underlined in my planner for months, had finally arrived: April 17th. Two days post tax day, and while my desk was still buried in paperwork that would need to be dealt with, it could finally all be put on hold. The phone was quiet, my email box was cleared, and as I left my office, I let out a deep sigh of relief.

Time to relax.

“Have a good vacation, Holly!” I turned at the voice and spotted Paula, the woman who leased the office next door to mine. She ran a thriving online fashion boutique, and used the space as part photography studio for her collection of goods going on sale, and part office for paperwork and hosting meetings with buyers. She’d been leasing the office for years, and had been incredibly warm and welcoming to me since I’d moved into my compact office on the other side of hers. She was a decade older than me, married, with two school aged kids at home, but we’d bonded over our mutual love of small label fashion and anything that had a bohemian chic flair.

“Thanks Paula. It feels so good to get out of there. I swear, it was beginning to feel like the walls were caving in on me!”

Paula laughed. “I bet! I can’t imagine the amount of pressure on you this time of year. I get frazzled enough just trying to round up my own documents for taxes. I would definitely lose my mind if I was the one actually responsible for
doing
the taxes. God bless ya, honey!”

I locked the deadbolt on my door and smiled at Paula. “Are you taking off for the night?” I asked, unsure if she was coming or going from her office. She had two large paper shopping bags dangling from her right arm.

“Not just yet. I just picked up some new goodies from a new supplier and want to get the photos done and edited before I call it a night.”

I nodded. It was nearing seven o’clock, but over the past few weeks, leading up to tax day, I’d put in some ridiculously late hours of my own, and knew that Paula was a non-stop machine for her business. “Sounds fun! I wish I could stay and play, but I have to get home and get packed.”

“We’ll catch up when you get back, girl, no worries!” Paula opened her door. “Have the best time!”

“Thanks Paula. See you in two weeks.” I smiled and she disappeared inside her office, the door softly falling closed behind her.

Two weeks
. All to myself.

I ducked my chin as I waited for the elevator and fought back the flood of memories from my last real vacation.

My honeymoon.

“Get it together, Parker,” I whispered to myself. I stepped onto the elevator and shook my head and shoulders, tossing my long, freshly colored, blonde hair back with a sweep of confidence I didn’t thoroughly feel. “That’s ancient history.”

The next two weeks were all I wanted to think about, not things that should have been forgotten three years ago.

* * * *

“Sorry, I’m late!” I called out, when I pushed through the front door of my condo.

My best friend, Rachel, was curled up on the cream suede couch. She glanced over and smiled. “No worries. Little man here kept me company,” she replied, scratching the ears of my six-month old chocolate lab puppy, Hunter—also known as, the mini hell hound.

“Oh, I’ll bet he did.” I couldn’t help but smile at him snuggled up against Rachel’s chest, his back legs kicking as he was apparently mid puppy dream. I veered left and dropped off a bag of groceries on the kitchen counter. “What’s the damage? Was he into shoes or furniture today?”

Rachel giggled. “You really wanna know?”

I sighed. “No.”

I’d adopted Hunter a few months back, after mistakenly stopping—just to look—at the puppies available at a charity pet foundation’s Doggy Beach Day event in Newport Beach, where I’d been visiting Rachel. He was the cutest ball of puppy chub I’d ever seen, and he’d stolen my heart when he put his tiny little paw in mine as soon as I’d stooped down to say hello to him and his litter mates. One thing had quickly led to another, and within a couple of hours, I’d signed adoption paperwork, paid a fee, and was off to the pet store to get all the supplies needed to keep my new little pal.

I didn’t realize that puppy proofing my house and belongings was a full time job.

In the chaos of tax time, I’d worked increasingly long hours and had asked Rachel to take care of the little guy until my schedule freed up a little more. She lived in a beach house along the coast, and worked as a dental hygienist a few blocks away, so it had been more practical for her to handle puppy duty.

“He’s getting better,” Rachel assured me when I stepped back into the living room. I handed her a bottle of fresh pressed juice that I’d picked up at the juice bar inside the grocery store next door to my condo building. I’d stopped to get a few essentials for my trip, and decided a green smoothie was the right way to kick things off.

Hunter stirred when Rachel moved to open her juice, and one of his blue eyes opened just enough to see me. He struggled to right himself, his roly-poly puppy tummy getting in his way, and started barking at me, his tail wagging in double speed.

I giggled and scooped him off the couch. “Hey there sleepy.” He licked at my cheek and nose as I snuggled him against my chest. “I missed you too, trouble.”

I sat down on the couch next to Rachel and released Hunter. He scampered clumsily on the couch cushions between us, pinging back and forth as we laughed and took turns petting his head and scratching his ears. “Thanks for taking care of him. How’s the training going?” Rachel wrinkled her nose and I sighed. “Well, I guess I know what I’ll be doing over my vacation. He can’t go around chewing up the cottage I rented.” I cringed at the thought. The rental website had stamped the beach house as “pet friendly” but I had a feeling the owner might object if they knew that meant a six-month old puppy would be taking up temporary residence.