Maureen Child - Last Virgin In California

Uh-oh.

“Hmm. Talk too much. Where have I heard that before?”

“From everyone you’ve ever met?” he asked, one corner of his mouth lifting.

“Wow.” Lilah stared up at him. It was truly amazing what that smile did to his face. No wonder he didn’t do it often. The bodies of women would be littering the parade deck. But she didn’t have to let him know that. “A smile. This is a real moment. Too bad I don’t have my journal with me, I could make a note of it.”

“Funny.”

“Thanks.” She laid one hand on his forearm and felt that jolt of heat again. Okay, she hadn’t counted on that. Instantly, she let her hand drop again and took a step back, just for good measure. Couldn’t hurt to keep a little distance between herself and the surprising Gunnery Sergeant.

“Well,” he asked, “if you don’t want the tour, what would you like to see?”

Before she could answer, someone shouted, “Gunny! Hey, Gunny!”

Kevin turned around and Lilah looked past him at the man hurrying up to them. Judging by his Smokey the Bear hat, he too was a Drill Instructor. He came to a stop in front of Kevin and spared her a quick glance.

“Excuse me, ma’am,” he said, “but I need to borrow the Gunny for a minute.”

“Sure,” she said.

Kevin frowned slightly. “Staff Sergeant Michaels, this is Lilah Forrest.”

The Marine’s gaze widened in surprise. “As in Colonel Forrest?”

Lilah nearly sighed. Happened every time she met one of her father’s troops. They looked at her, imagined him, and just couldn’t seem to put the two of them in the same family. But she’d long ago quit trying to be what everyone else expected her to be, so she just smiled at him. “He’s my father, yes.”

“Pleased to meet you, ma’am,” he said. His gaze swept over her and as he took note of the crystal around her neck and the silver chain around her waist and her boots, she could almost hear him feeling sorry for her father. A moment later though, he was all business, and turning his gaze on Kevin.

“I need your help tonight.”

“I’m off for the next couple of weeks,” Kevin told him and Lilah noticed for the first time how rough and gravelly his voice sounded. Must be from all the shouting the D.I.’s did at the recruits. But whatever the reason, it scraped along the back of her neck and felt like sandpaper rubbing against her skin.

“I know that,” Sergeant Michaels said. “But Porter’s wife is in the hospital. Their first one’s about to be born and I’ve got a busload coming in tonight.”

“A busload?” Lilah asked.

“Recruits,” Kevin told her with a glance over his shoulder.

“Ah…” Of course. She’d been around the Marine Corps long enough to know that when new recruits arrived at the depot, they arrived in the middle of the night. Bringing them in on a bus in the dark was sort of a psychological thing, she supposed. Kept them from knowing exactly where they were. Enforced the feeling that they were all in this together. Made them start looking to each other for comfort, for strength.

Because that was the whole point of boot camp. To take individual kids and build them into team player Marines. The military wasn’t exactly big on individualism. Which is exactly why she’d always had such a hard time fitting in.

Free spirits in the Marine Corps? She didn’t think so.

“You won’t have to do anything,” Michaels said, talking faster now, “just be there as backup.”

She’d never seen the recruits arriving and as long as she was here, it seemed like a good idea. “Can I come, too?” she asked.

Both men turned and glared at her.

“No.”

She pulled her head back and stared at them. “Why not?”

“You said you didn’t want a tour,” Kevin reminded her.

“That’s not a tour. That’s just observing.”

“No observers allowed,” he said.

“Staff Sergeant Michaels just asked you to be an observer.”

“He asked me to be backup.”

From the corner of her eye, she noted that Sergeant Michaels was watching the two of them with fascination. But she paid no attention to him. Instead, she concentrated on the huge man glowering at her.

“And if you’re not doing anything but being backup,” she pointed out, “what exactly will you be doing?”

“Watching.”

“Ah-hah.” She folded her arms across her chest, leaned back and gave him a victorious smile. “In other words, observing.”

She watched him grind his teeth together. Every muscle in his jaw clenched and unclenched several times before he trusted himself to speak.

“Whatever I’m doing, it’s my job,” he said. “These kids don’t need an audience.”

“Hardly an audience. One woman. In the background. Watching.”

“No.”

“Look,” Michaels interrupted, apparently sensing that there was going to be no time limit at all to this argument, “all I need to know is if you can do it.”

Kevin, still scowling, said, “Yeah. I’ll be there.”

“Good, thanks.” Touching the brim of his hat with his fingertips, he glanced at Lilah and said, “Ma’am, enjoy your stay.”

“Thank you,” she said, but he had already done an about-face and was striding away, leaving she and Kevin alone again.

Before she had the chance to open the discussion again though, he was looking at her. “Forget about it,” he said tightly.

One thing Lilah had never been able to stand was being told what to do. Another reason why she’d never have made it in the military.

“I could pull rank on you,” she said.

“You don’t have a rank,” he reminded her.

“My father does.”

“He’d be on my side.”

Hmm. She suspected that was true. Her father was a stickler for the rules. Poor man.

“What harm could it do?”

“None, ’cause you won’t be there.”

“You know,” she said, walking again, headed across the grounds toward a patch of grass where several squads were drilling, “I don’t need your permission.”

“Actually,” he said, falling into step beside her, “yeah. You do.”

“What?” She looked up, and her hair flew across her eyes. She clawed at it, then reached around, grabbing a handful of hair and holding it in place at the nape of her neck. Hard to argue with a person when your own hair was working against you.

“I’m a senior D.I.,” he said and darned if he didn’t look like he was enjoying himself, saying it. “I train the instructors. They answer to me. I look after the new recruits. I say who comes and goes.” He bent down again, bringing his gaze in a direct line with hers. “And I say you don’t go anywhere near the new recruits tonight. Understand?”

Lilah ducked back into the shadows as the bus pulled around the corner and came to a stop. Two in the morning and the faces she could make out through the windows were wild-eyed. “Probably scared to death,” she muttered, then slunk farther back into the darkness as the sound of footsteps rose up from close by.

Staff Sergeant Michaels, with Kevin Rogan just a step or two behind him, headed for the bus. The driver slammed the double doors open with a “thunk” that seemed to echo in the otherwise stillness.

Lilah went up on her toes and wished she was five inches taller. She’d never liked being short. People never took short people seriously. They always thought you were “cute.” Besides, she’d rather reach her own cereal down from the top shelf at the grocery store, thank you very much. But she’d never been as frustrated with her height as she was at the moment.

“Not bad enough I have to hide like a criminal,” she whispered, “but I go to all the trouble of coming down here and now I can’t see anything.”