The Marine’s Seduction (Storm Corps Book 1) Page 10

  Bristol stood there until he was out of sight, then slowly turned and headed for her car. Maybe she’d made a huge mistake turning down his proposal, but she couldn’t believe he’d gone from a deep friendship to madly in love with her in the last six months. It didn’t make sense, and she wasn’t ready to con herself into it. No, they were best friends, and she wouldn’t risk that for anything.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Thirty weeks gestation

  “When does he actually come back?” Olive asked as she bent over Bristol’s feet, painting her toenails a bright cheery pink.

  “Not until December. His dad said the second, but Roan hasn’t confirmed that for me,” Bristol answered. “I’m hoping it’s around then, so he can be here when everything starts to happen. I mean, if I go into labor early...”

  “Could that happen? You’re healthy and the baby is healthy. Why would you deliver early?”

  “Anything could happen,” Bristol shrugged. “Are you almost done? I have to pee.”

  “Again? You just went!”

  “And there’s a child sitting on my bladder, so shut up.” Bristol stood and hobbled to the bathroom with her toes curled up trying not to disturb the new nail polish. It was hard to reach her feet these days with the curve of her belly impeding all of her movements—thank God, she had a kind sister.

  When she finished, she hobbled into the kitchen. “Want something to eat?”

  “No, I’m still full from lunch. What time do we have to be at the birthing class?”

  “Four. Thanks for going with me. I didn’t want to be the only one there without a partner.”

  “We can let them all think I’m your real partner if you want,” Olive winked. “I’m an excellent actress.”

  Laughing, Bristol shook her head, “That’s not necessary. I actually asked for permission to record the class on my phone. I’m going to send it to Roan, so he can listen in. He sent me another list of questions to ask, too—what happens if the baby comes out breach, does the butt get smashed into a cone like the head does on normal babies. I swear he’s going to drive me nuts.”

  “I think it’s sweet he’s so into it,” Olive said. “At least, he didn’t pack up and run for the hills the moment you told him.”

  “No, he’s not like that. Roan wants this baby as much as I do.”

  “Speaking of wants and… unwanteds, have you talked to Mom recently?”

  Bristol cringed as she chewed on a piece of cheese. “Not for months. Actually, not since I told her I was pregnant. She hasn’t tried to contact me at all, and I’m not reaching out just to get my hand bit again.”

  “That’s not fair, B. I mean, it was pretty unexpected news. Maybe she’s had a change of heart?” Olive reached across the table to snag a piece of cheese for herself. “You should talk to her, I’m sure she’s dying to know how you’re doing.”

  “Let me guess, you’ve spoken to her, and she asked you to tell me to call?” The guilt on Olive’s face was damning. “Stay out of it, Liv. Mom was the one who overreacted and said hurtful things. She can either apologize or stay out of my life.”

  “That’s not fair—”

  “What’s not fair is not supporting her daughter at a time when she needed it the most. Mom made that choice, not me.” Bristol looked down at her shoes. “I’m going to put on my flip-flops, so we can go. I don’t want to be late.”

  Without another word, she hurried to the bedroom to keep Olive from seeing the tears in her eyes. It wasn’t like she didn’t want her mom involved, hell, she’d had a million questions in the last seven months she would have loved to have answered, but she wasn’t ready to forgive and forget yet. She wasn’t done being mad.

  Her heart ached in her chest. If it wasn’t for Olive and Roan’s family, she would be completely alone during this nine months of insanity. His brothers had made sure to check in daily—at least one of them popped by the store or called her every single day without missing a beat. It made her feel like part of the family.

  Putting on her favorite flip-flops, she looked at her round figure in the mirror, taking in the pumpkin shirt she wore for Halloween this week and the way her face had rounded out to match it. She was uncomfortable and lonely. It was really frustrating. At this rate, she would never get pregnant again because she never wanted to feel like this again.

  “Mail call.”

  Roan spun around in the folding chair he was sitting in to grab the package Chips was handing him. “Thanks, man.”

  Tearing into the familiar manila envelope, he pulled out a flash drive and stuck it into his computer. It took a few moments to boot up, then he heard the tinny voice of the birthing class instructor. While he hated having to get his information this way, he was thrilled Bristol was willing to go to this effort for him. She had tried emailing the recordings, but the files were too big, so in the last six weeks of his deployment, he was listening to the two recordings via flash drives over and over again. He wanted to memorize everything they said, so he would be ready for the birth of their son.

  He kept a running list of questions Bristol thought were ridiculous, but he’d taken one piece of advice from the guys quite literally—ask questions now. He had so many things that were foreign to him like a placenta and an episiotomy. Finding out what the last one was had turned his stomach, but it hadn’t slowed his roll. He was still determined to know. After all, knowledge was power.

  A whistle interrupted his listening session, and he paused it to join the rest of the unit gathering in the main tent. Something serious had happened.

  “We heard from the med unit this morning,” his First Sergeant looked over the group, sadness etched in every line on his fifty-year-old face. “Lance Corporal Scott Coody died last night of his injuries. His family has been informed.”

  Roan felt the news hit him in the gut like a rocket. Both of the men injured in the attack outside of Raqqa had been killed. Derrick Jensen died instantly when he took a bullet in the back of the head, but Scott’s injury had been to his left side, and he was talking and laughing as the medics took him away for surgery.

  “Sir, what happened?” Roan asked, hearing the murmurs around him from his brethren.

  His First Sergeant glanced down at the paper in his hands. “His injuries were more severe than they looked. The bullet went through his left kidney and got stuck in his spinal cord. He had three surgeries, and the last one… well, a blood clot formed, and there was nothing they could do. It happened suddenly.”

  Roan needed to hear Bristol’s voice immediately. He needed reassurance she and the baby were okay. He couldn’t think of anything else. Avoiding the conversations around him, he made a beeline for the computer and tried to pull her up on a video chat. It didn’t register until he’d hung up that she was sleeping because it was the middle of the night there. Syria was eight hours ahead of Oklahoma. He would have to wait.

  “I can’t believe Scoob is gone,” Casper said from behind him when he’d hung up the call.

  Roan turned to face the younger guy, taking in the worry and sorrow he carried. “It’s a fact of life over here.”

  “He seemed good when they left. I just don’t understand how it went bad.”

  “It happens. I wish it hadn’t, but it does. At any given moment, someone in the world is dying. Here, it seems like it’s always happening because it’s in our face. Any day you wake up could be your last.”

  “I know but hearing it and seeing it are very different.”

  Casper was too young to have built up a wall around his heart when it came to these matters, but Roan had done so two deployments before when an entire team of five men had been ambushed during a routine assignment and died. There was no absolute except death. Every deployment was a dice game with the grim reaper. This time, Scott and Derrick aka Scooby and Jett had lost the roll.

  After several minutes, he decided to call his brother Jaden for a chat. Out of all five of his siblings, Jaden was the most levelheaded and usually, gave th
e best advice.

  He picked up after four rings and sounded out of breath, “Storm 5, what’s up man?”

  “Hey 2, just sitting around eating bonbons, drinking beer with my buddies. ‘Sup with you?”

  “Working. It’s all I do these days. How’re they treating you?”

  “Like shit as always. Today we heard back that Scooby bit the bullet.”

  “Serious? Damn, that sucks. I’m sorry, man. I know you were tight with him. What happened?”

  “Bullet to the kidney that set up in his spine. I guess during surgery, he had a blood clot or something. He and Jett were both shot up a few weeks back. Jett never made it to the medics, but Scoob seemed good.”

  “Fuck.”

  “Yeah, I’m just sitting here thinkin’, damn, that could have been me, and then where would Bristol and the baby be?”

  “You don’t gotta worry about that, Roan. Nothing’s gonna happen to you.”

  “Yeah, we all say that, but…”

  “If it did, we would step up and handle your business in your place. There’s no way we’d cut them loose like that.”

  “I know,” Roan sighed with relief, “but I guess I needed to hear it.”

  “How’s things going with her? Did she accept your proposal yet?”

  “Uh, no, I haven’t asked again. Not feeling like getting slapped down a second time. But she did agree to me moving in after Junior is born so that’s something.”

  “Yeah, that’s something.”

  A noise sounded in the background, and Jaden cursed, “Sorry man, I gotta run. Take care of yourself, okay?”

  “Always. Later 2.”

  “Later 5.”

  The phone clicked off, and Roan hung it up, leaning back in the office chair to stare at the ceiling. In spite of the short chat, he truly felt better. Just telling someone what had happened eased a little bit of the pain. He just hated he couldn’t talk to Bristol about it.

  He’d always told her when something went wrong on a deployment. She was his go-to listening ear, but he didn’t want her worrying while she was pregnant. The stress wasn’t good for the baby, so he was going to keep it quiet until Junior was born. It was for the best.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Payton’s knee bounced uncontrollably as the plane descended, taking them closer to her hometown with each passing second. Beside her, Luke and Ricky were peering out the window, taking in the view that was Tulsa, Oklahoma. They were both thrilled to be arriving finally, but she was sick to her stomach with nerves. Her family meant everything to her. If her brothers didn’t approve of Luke…

  “I can’t believe the dirt is really red,” Ricky exclaimed as the plane jolted to the ground.

  “It has to do with the mineral content, I think,” Luke told him before looking her way and realizing she wasn’t okay. He reached out to take her hand, bringing it to his lips. “It’s going to be just fine, baby, I promise.”

  “You can’t promise that. You don’t know them,” she protested. “I haven’t been back home in almost two years. I don’t know what’s changed.”

  “Nothing’s changed but you. You’ve grown as a person, and your brothers will see that and love it just as much as I do,” Luke told her.

  The plane rolled to a stop, and the seatbelt light dinged, giving Payton the freedom to stand up, finally. She leaned on the chair next to her while the flight attendant retrieved her cane from a cubby near the door. Being disabled had very few privileges, but one was being the first to get on and the first to get off any plane.

  Her leg wasn’t bothering her today, but the cane was her safety net, just in case she grew weary. The physical therapy had helped enough that she walked most days with only a limp to show for the injuries that nearly killed her in Afghanistan.

  “Can we get food before we go to your house, Payton?” Ricky asked, looking around the airport longingly. “I’m starving.”

  “You’re fifteen. You’re always hungry,” Luke told him.

  Payton just laughed, “Of course, but first, we have to get the rental car.”

  She headed that way when suddenly, someone was calling her name. Spinning in that direction, she saw her brothers Micah and Jaden waiting with a tiny handmade sign that said “Pissant”—her childhood nickname.

  “Storm 2! Storm 3! Oh, my God, it’s good to see you guys.” She embraced them both, accepting their firm hugs with tears in her eyes.

  “Are you crying? What the hell? Are we that ugly?” Jaden joked as he pulled back.

  “Dust in my eye. It’s all this damn red dust in the air. I’d forgotten how it felt to wipe my eyes all the time,” she responded playfully, rubbing her eyes. “What are you doing here? I told you we were getting a rental car.”

  “Yeah, but we couldn’t let you get here and have no welcome committee,” Micah told her before turning to Luke. His demeanor changed, tensing a little as he held out his hand. “Micah Storm, I’m brother number three.”

  “Luke Gillian, fiancé number one.”

  Micah and Jaden both turned to face Payton with surprised looks. “Fiancé?”

  “He asked, but I haven’t answered, just yet. I had to put him through his paces with the Storm Corps just to make sure he’s up to it,” she explained. The Storm Corps was the nickname friends had given her family when they were young. With their father being a Marine Colonel, and all of them in ROTC, it had fit and stuck.

  “Well played,” Jaden said, before holding his hand out. “Jaden, I’m brother two, and I’m glad to meet you. I can’t believe she found someone who could tolerate her whiny ass.”

  Payton rolled her eyes at her brother, but Luke just laughed. “Not only tolerate but fully appreciate it. I love her and every bit of her whiny ass.”

  “Hey!” she protested, slapping Luke’s shoulder.

  He just laughed and pulled her in for a hug. “This is Ricky, my son.”

  “Hey, Rick,” Jaden said, shaking the boy's hand, “How old are you?”

  “Just turned fifteen last month,” Ricky told him. “How old are you?”

  Jaden laughed at Ricky’s throwback. “I was thirty-five on my last birthday, and since I have twenty years on you, I’ll let that slide.”

  Micah greeted Ricky and asked, “You guys hungry? I was thinking we could slide into El Rancho Grande and grab tacos.”

  “Oh my God, yes! I’ve missed El Rancho Grande. We just have to get the car, then we can meet you there,” Payton told him, pointing at the rental desk. “Give us twenty minutes and we’ll head out.”

  “Sounds good, we’ll see you over there,” Micah told her, hugging her again. “It’s good to have you back, Pissant.”

  “Love you too, Three,” she responded warmly. She watched them walk away with a sense of pride. Women and men moved out of their way and cast an envious eye on the pair. Her brothers were good-looking men, and they drew attention everywhere they went.

  “Well, let’s get this done, so we can go have food, already,” Ricky said, dragging her back to the present. “Otherwise, I’m going to starve to death.”

  “Wouldn’t want that,” she joked, stepping up to the rental desk to collect their wheels.

  The first meeting was the easy one. Payton wasn’t surprised Micah and Jaden had accepted Luke and Ricky immediately, but she was nervous about her father and Asher meeting them. Driving up to the house she’d lived in since high-school, butterflies spun in her belly, making her queasy and shaky. Home meant something different to everyone, but to her, it meant rules and regulations. It meant everyone and everything had its place, so there was order in the chaos. It meant family dinners that dissolved into laughter, only to be cut short by a curt request for more maturity from her father.

  While she loved him, she still struggled with exactly what that love was based in. Colonel Grant Storm wasn’t affectionate or particularly loving as a father, but she’d always know he had her back all the same. He may not have been at school musical performances or parent/teacher confere
nces, but his high expectations of his children had meant there was never any concern for the outcome of either. He held them to the same high standard he held his men to, even as children.

  So, walking up to that front door today was impossibly hard. When Luke took her hand and laced his fingers with hers, she looked up at him to find all the strength she needed in his smile. Everything she had that was good was based around the relationship they’d built, and there wasn’t a chance in hell she’d let anyone muck it up. Not even her father.

  Asher came in later while they were cooking dinner and stopped short, just inside the kitchen door.

  “Payton, you look like hell. Didn’t they feed you in North Dakota?” he asked gruffly, not even looking at Luke or Ricky. He didn’t offer her a hug, and she didn’t ask for one. Instead, she just rolled her eyes.

  “Hello to you too, One. This is Luke and Ricky.”

  Finally, Asher’s eyes went to Luke and a dark brooding glare covered his face. “She doesn’t have any money. The VA doesn’t pay out for injuries like an insurance company.”

  Luke’s mouth fell open in shock, and Payton nearly launched herself across the room to get in Asher’s face.

  “What the hell? Where did that come from? Luke isn’t after me for money. He has his own money, from his own business, that he runs, alone.”

  Asher’s eyes flicked from her to Luke, but he didn’t react to Payton’s fury, otherwise. He just crossed his arms and stared down at her from his six-foot-four-inch height.

  “I don’t care what he does for a living. Real men don’t pick up and move on a whim with their kid. Now, if you had a job or a reason for leaving—”

  “Asher, cut the shit,” Jaden said firmly.

  “Fuck you,” Payton told him simultaneously. “You don’t know Luke or me, I guess. I would have thought you would have a little faith in my ability to pick a good man.”

  “Oh, yeah, because you have so much experience with it,” Asher snapped back. “Admit it, you haven’t had any sort of relationship in years. How the hell do you know what his motives are?”