Leah Vale - The Marine

“I’m afraid that’s not an option, Major.”

The metal weights clanked as he brought them together in front of his hips. “Respecting other people’s privacy is always an option.”

“Not when your privacy is a matter of law—”

He jerked the weights upward. “I can’t believe you called my mother.”

“You’ve spoken with her?” Her tone had a sharp edge.

Boy, was she mistaken if she thought she could control Ann Branigan. No one put achieving her goals above all else like his mom.

He lowered his arms and brought the weights together. “Briefly.”

“So what did you two talk about?” She sounded as though she was worried about competition for the Supreme Commander seat.

He had to admit, Lynn Hayes was the first woman he’d ever met who might actually give Ann a run for her money.

He answered, “She called me this morning to tell me she was flying down to meet with you.” He tossed her a glare as he lifted his arms again. “Then she expects me to explain everything.”

“Will you?”

The hope in her voice had him gritting his teeth. She still didn’t get it.

“No. Why did you call her?”

“Her previous involvement with Marcus McCoy made contacting her a logical choice. I felt it was only right to inform her of his death, regardless of your level of cooperation.”

“You mean ‘lack thereof.’”

“Yes.”

The ghost of a child’s yearning for a deeper connection between the people who’d made him piggybacked on his unquestionable love for his mother and had him asking, “How’d she take the news that he’d been killed?”

“In stride.”

He scoffed. “That’s my mom.”

“It’s been a long time since she and Marcus were involved, Rick.”

He ignored her soft use of his name, the way it tempted him to see her as more than another problem he really didn’t need right now.

Aiming for a snide tone, he said, “Thirty-three years and nine months, to be exact.”

She shifted in front of him and looked him in the eye. Looked deep in him again. “Ah.”

He hated when she did that. “What do you mean, ah?”

“The whole ‘Always Faithful’ thing.”

To hide his surprise, Rick took his time setting down the hand weights. She would make a hell of an intel officer. “What are you talking about?”

“Just something your mother mentioned.”

“What my mom mentioned? About that—I don’t want you talking to my mother, or anyone else I know, for that matter.” He’d say the words, but he doubted she’d listen—

“Can’t do that,” she shot back.

He heaved a sigh, then told her flat-out, “You can and you—”

“I’m going to find out the truth about the accident, Rick.” She squared her shoulders and her stance, her jaw at a belligerent angle. “I’m going to uncover the truth, then I’m going to use it to find a way to get you out of trouble and back to Dependable so the terms of your father’s will can be executed. And give Joseph McCoy the gift of one of his grandsons for his seventy-fifth birthday.”

He mimicked her pose, but improved on it with a squadron’s worth of testosterone. “Like hell.”

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