Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 82341 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 412(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82341 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 412(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
So my mind went there.
I knew I’d never act on it—of course I wouldn’t. But I couldn’t say I didn’t consider it for the briefest of moments that night in Bangkok. I thought about giving him the gift of human touch, of physical pleasure, of male company if only to take him out of his goddamned head for a night and let him be cherished for once.
He deserved it.
But I was married. And I wasn’t gay. And he was in a city with hundreds of willing participants of any size, shape, or gender, and he’d chosen not to partake.
I closed my eyes and willed myself to go back to sleep, but of course I couldn’t.
And three hours later, I was glad I hadn’t, if only to be able to hear the pained whimper from across the room.
“Liam.”
I slipped out of my bed and into his without thinking. Pulling his back against my chest, I wrapped an arm around him and held tight.
“I’m here,” I murmured behind his ear. “You’re okay.”
“I killed them,” he breathed. “Liam, are you safe?”
How many nights had he been haunted by the memory of the men he’d killed? And why was he so obsessed with making sure I was safe?
The guilt damned near broke me.
“I’m safe, Wes,” I whispered. “I’m always safe with you. Sleep easy, Major. Please.”
He drifted back off, and after a while I decided I’d better move back to my own bed before he woke up and things got very awkward.
But getting back in my own bed felt strange after being in his. I wasn’t sure if it was the lack of physical touch and comfort that we all experienced on deployment or whether there was something specific about Weston Marian that made me feel protective and possessive. I didn’t want to look at it too closely because doing that brought with it the guilt of what had happened the night of the crash. I hadn’t been able to save his best friend or any of the other men we’d been sent to rescue. I hadn’t even watched his back the way I should have. I wasn’t sure how he could have forgiven me for it, but he didn’t seem to think I’d done anything wrong.
There was no denying the major and I had a connection that would last the rest of our days.
War did that to people. It took practical strangers and tied them together in knots of steel. When we returned to base, I felt closer to him than ever.
But two weeks later, Major Weston Marian got PCS orders to return stateside. To Texas of all places.
He was going home without me.
Chapter 10
Weston “Major” Marian
For as much as I prayed for an end to my time in Vietnam, I would have given it all up for the chance to send Doc home in my stead. When those duty orders came through, I felt numb. Clutching the papers in one fist, I wandered out behind the quonset hut where the colonel’s office was and squatted down with my elbows on my thighs, lowering my head down so I could catch my breath and steady myself.
“There you are,” Doc’s familiar voice said after a few minutes. “Check it out. Taylor’s wife sent a care package with…”
I finally looked up at him and stood, rolling my shoulders back.
“Who died?” he asked.
I handed him the papers and rubbed my face with both hands before clasping them behind my neck and waiting for his reaction.
“Oh.”
“Yeah.”
“Wow. That’s…” Doc let out a huge breath and smiled at me. “That’s great news, Major. Congratulations.”
I’d been assigned to oversee flight training logistics at Fort Wolton with the implication time spent in the position would set me up for possible promotion to lieutenant colonel in less than two years. It was an incredible duty assignment with one very unspoken exception.
Doc wouldn’t be there.
His clear blue eyes locked on mine. “Don’t,” he said swiftly. “Don’t you fucking dare, short-timer. Get your shit together because this is not happening.”
Doc’s nostrils flared in anger, and I knew he was right. If we let emotions come into play, we might as well break down into jelly blobs on the ground.
I swallowed the lump in my throat. “You snag one for me?” I asked, nodding toward the candy bar he held.
His familiar crooked grin appeared. “Yeah, this one’s for you. I snarfed mine down in two seconds.” He handed me the bar, knowing full well I would give him half of it. He thought I wasn’t much for chocolate, but the truth of the matter was, I knew he liked it more than I did.
When we joined Lynch, Dial, and several of the other dustoff crew for our nightly card game, there was a general cheer of congratulations for me but also enough regrets to make me feel part of a real family. And I was leaving them behind in hopes they’d make it home from Vietnam too.