begging to get airborne and these civilians are scared to jump.”
“I’d say a few beers added to the naked and stupid problem. Which was why everyone’s keys were kept at the door. But they walked.”
“You made everyone leave their keys at the door?”
“The groom did,” Bobby said. “He’s a good guy. Even made the guests leave cab fare at the door. He was prepared.”
“Well, then,” the cop said. “That is admirable.” He studied Bobby. “How long you been in the Army, son?”
“Seven years,” Bobby said. “Five in Special Forces.”
“I was in fifteen,” the cop said. “First Cavalier down in Fort Hood. Where you stationed?”
“Depends what day of the week you ask me,” Bobby said, accepting his ID back and slipping it in his wallet.
“Is there a woman behind the pain I felt in those words?”
“What makes you think there’s a woman?”
“There’s always a woman, son,” he said. “That’s why I got out. I didn’t want her getting cold at night and finding someone else to warm her up.” He eyed the other officer talking to Scott, whose bare backside was staring them in the face, the rest of the guys all sitting on a curb where they’d been ordered. He glanced back at Bobby. “Now, I go home after a night of scary bare butts and hug my wife.”
“And?” Bobby asked. “Are you happy?”
“You take the good with the bad, the bare butts with the bank robbers. I’ll load these guys up and follow you to the party—after I scare the living shit out of them so they don’t do this stupid crap again. But you keep them out of trouble the rest of the night.”
The cop turned away, not giving Bobby a chance to thank him. Bobby realized right then, he had to figure out what he would do with himself outside the Army. He had to have an identity, a plan. He had to figure out who he was if not a soldier. Hard to do when his orders, to check out this Rocky guy and his Texas Hotzone skydiving operation, meant incorporating duty into the wedding event. Bobby scrubbed his jaw. One thing was for sure, he wasn’t going to chase bare butts or bank robbers. But neither was he letting anyone else warm Jennifer’s bed.
T HREE HOURS AFTER Jennifer discovered Marcie in the hallway, Marcie finally slept, and Jennifer rested in the overstuffed chair in the corner. Bobby had long ago brought Mark, Scott and several other members of the wedding party back, after barely saving them from the police. Since then, the party had cleared, and Mark was passed out on the couch where Bobby had left him.
Jennifer curled her legs in the chair, and rested her head on the cushion when a shiver of awareness washed over her at the sound of footsteps approaching, the sounds of Bobby’s loose-legged swagger, impossible to miss. Jennifer looked up as he appeared in the doorway.
“How’s Marcie?” he asked, leaning on the door frame.
“She’s okay, but she’ll have a rotten hangover tomorrow,” Jennifer said. “I guess fun comes with a price. At least she’s resting now.”
He cast her a heavy-lidded inspection. “What about you?” he asked. “Don’t you need to rest?”
She rubbed the back of her neck, fighting the weariness weighing on her. “I figured I’d stay here in case she needs me. It’s not like Mark can help her. He can’t even get up the stairs himself.”
He narrowed his gaze, his scrutiny intense, his presence seeming to swell in the room. “Not because you’re trying to avoid me?”
She drew a deep breath, too tired to analyze how she felt, or why. “I’m not avoiding you, Bobby,” she said softly. “You were wonderful tonight. I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t been here…to help.”
His expression didn’t change; he didn’t move. But the silence was rich with implications, with a connection of two lovers lost, now found. Silence slid between them, weaving strands of the past with the present, alluringly warm, impossible to deny, let alone
“I’d say a few beers added to the naked and stupid problem. Which was why everyone’s keys were kept at the door. But they walked.”
“You made everyone leave their keys at the door?”
“The groom did,” Bobby said. “He’s a good guy. Even made the guests leave cab fare at the door. He was prepared.”
“Well, then,” the cop said. “That is admirable.” He studied Bobby. “How long you been in the Army, son?”
“Seven years,” Bobby said. “Five in Special Forces.”
“I was in fifteen,” the cop said. “First Cavalier down in Fort Hood. Where you stationed?”
“Depends what day of the week you ask me,” Bobby said, accepting his ID back and slipping it in his wallet.
“Is there a woman behind the pain I felt in those words?”
“What makes you think there’s a woman?”
“There’s always a woman, son,” he said. “That’s why I got out. I didn’t want her getting cold at night and finding someone else to warm her up.” He eyed the other officer talking to Scott, whose bare backside was staring them in the face, the rest of the guys all sitting on a curb where they’d been ordered. He glanced back at Bobby. “Now, I go home after a night of scary bare butts and hug my wife.”
“And?” Bobby asked. “Are you happy?”
“You take the good with the bad, the bare butts with the bank robbers. I’ll load these guys up and follow you to the party—after I scare the living shit out of them so they don’t do this stupid crap again. But you keep them out of trouble the rest of the night.”
The cop turned away, not giving Bobby a chance to thank him. Bobby realized right then, he had to figure out what he would do with himself outside the Army. He had to have an identity, a plan. He had to figure out who he was if not a soldier. Hard to do when his orders, to check out this Rocky guy and his Texas Hotzone skydiving operation, meant incorporating duty into the wedding event. Bobby scrubbed his jaw. One thing was for sure, he wasn’t going to chase bare butts or bank robbers. But neither was he letting anyone else warm Jennifer’s bed.
T HREE HOURS AFTER Jennifer discovered Marcie in the hallway, Marcie finally slept, and Jennifer rested in the overstuffed chair in the corner. Bobby had long ago brought Mark, Scott and several other members of the wedding party back, after barely saving them from the police. Since then, the party had cleared, and Mark was passed out on the couch where Bobby had left him.
Jennifer curled her legs in the chair, and rested her head on the cushion when a shiver of awareness washed over her at the sound of footsteps approaching, the sounds of Bobby’s loose-legged swagger, impossible to miss. Jennifer looked up as he appeared in the doorway.
“How’s Marcie?” he asked, leaning on the door frame.
“She’s okay, but she’ll have a rotten hangover tomorrow,” Jennifer said. “I guess fun comes with a price. At least she’s resting now.”
He cast her a heavy-lidded inspection. “What about you?” he asked. “Don’t you need to rest?”
She rubbed the back of her neck, fighting the weariness weighing on her. “I figured I’d stay here in case she needs me. It’s not like Mark can help her. He can’t even get up the stairs himself.”
He narrowed his gaze, his scrutiny intense, his presence seeming to swell in the room. “Not because you’re trying to avoid me?”
She drew a deep breath, too tired to analyze how she felt, or why. “I’m not avoiding you, Bobby,” she said softly. “You were wonderful tonight. I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t been here…to help.”
His expression didn’t change; he didn’t move. But the silence was rich with implications, with a connection of two lovers lost, now found. Silence slid between them, weaving strands of the past with the present, alluringly warm, impossible to deny, let alone
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