Julie Miller - Basic Training

Travis frowned as Hal gazed out the window above the sink and chewed. Was his father content with his early retirement? Was he bored? Lonely? Looking for action? Did Hal McCormick even remember what action was?

Eeuw.

Travis cringed, remembering his own body’s wildly inappropriate reaction to Tess Bartlett yesterday afternoon and last night on the beach. His skin prickled with an instantaneous, self-conscious awareness as he recalled vivid details from the erotic dreams that had haunted him through the night.

His and Tess’s second-floor bedrooms faced each other. Only, instead of replaying their silly childhood hand signals that they’d once used to communicate with each other after lights-out, he’d pictured her trim, athletic body standing buck naked in her window. Definitely all grown up. And the gestures she’d sent across the moonlit night between them had all been provocative invitations. In his dreams, she’d touched herself, pleasured herself, served herself up on a silver platter for him to watch and want. And then they’d been on the beach together. In the water. In his bed. He’d been inside her mouth. Inside her body. He’d tasted her from stem to stern. She’d tasted him. He’d been the Action Man in his prime, and she’d been his match in every sexy, seductive way possible.

In his dreams.

Travis had awakened, tangled in his covers, feeling hot and achy and unsatisfied. And mortally concerned that he’d been fantasizing about his best friend in such a raw, uncensored fashion. Apparently, a year of recuperation had taken its toll on his sanity as well as his body. He’d certainly found that out at the beach last night. The only thing that had stopped him from taking her for a roll in the sand had been her reluctant but necessary suggestion that they should get back to the party.

Friend or no, did his father have fantasies about a woman the way Travis had about Tess? Did Hal ever crave that kind of action?

Did Travis really want to be thinking about father and action in the same sentence?

“Damn.”

“McCormick?”

Focus.

Travis shifted on the barstool, uncomfortably aware that his life was completely out of whack. He hadn’t done a very good job of taking care of himself this past year. He didn’t intend to jeopardize his future friendship with Tess by listening to his lusty hormones.

But in the here and now, he could pull it together and help his dad. He had a sneaking suspicion that Hal McCormick had put his whole life on hold for the sake of his children—the same way he wanted to put this fishing trip on hold.

Pulling his shoulders back to attention, Travis concentrated on a brand new strategy. Time to redirect the opposition. He raised the volume of his voice so Hal could hear every word. “Tell me more about this Eileen who’s coming with you.”

“Eileen?” Hal stopped mid-chew and frowned. “Who’s Eileen? What happened to Millie?”

Good. His father’s attention had just shifted to a new topic. Travis patted the air with a placating hand, silently telling him not to worry, yet secretly glad he was distracted.

General Craddock gave the low-down. “Eileen’s been with me for years. Works her butt off. She’s not much for socializing, but her ex is getting re-married this weekend, and Millie thinks Eileen needs to get out and meet some people instead of moping at home.”

Hmm. Depressed hermit. Obsessed with work. Been with the general for years. Eileen sounded like a real stick in the mud. Maybe he wouldn’t have to worry about that bothersome picture of his sixty-year-old father getting some action. “Does she enjoy being on the water?” Travis asked.

Unable to stop his curiosity, Hal brushed the crumbs from his hands over the sink, then crossed close enough to whisper, “This woman’s coming here with Walter?”

Travis hushed his voice as well. “It’s his secretary, Dad. Millie and Eileen are both coming.”

“I have no idea what her hobbies are, besides the plants she always has on her desk. She doesn’t talk about her personal life much.” Craddock’s tone altered with a mix of apology and admiration. “I don’t know if you remember my wife, but Millie can be quite formidable once she sets her mind to a thing.”

It was Travis’s turn to laugh. He’d heard that Millie Craddock had played a small but key role in getting his brother, Ethan, and his wife, J.C., together.

“I remember her.” Mrs. Craddock’s determination might prove his best ally when it came to easing his guilt. Whether this Eileen proved date-worthy or not, Travis would see to it that his father didn’t sacrifice one more thing on his account. “It doesn’t sound wise to disappoint the missus, sir. You come on down to Ashton and bring your guest. Dad will appreciate the company.” Now for the lie. He raised his voice a notch. “I’ve got plans myself, anyway. Dad’ll be here by himself if you don’t come.”

Hal rested a warning hand on Travis’s shoulder. “What plans?”

Travis winked to reassure his dad, but spoke to the general. He was making this up as he went along. He may have a bum leg, but his bullshit skills were completely intact. “I have a class reunion thing going on, meeting with some high school friends.” Why not go all the way? “I promised I’d help them with the Bay Festival this week. I don’t know why Dad wants to hang around the house—I’ll be gone most of the time, anyway.”

Hal’s grip tightened. “When did you make these plans? The doctor said you needed rest.”

“Rest and recreation, Dad. This is the recreation part. Besides, I’ll be hangin’ with Tess. I can’t get any safer than that, can I?” Travis offered a brief explanation to the general. “One of my classmates just happens to be my physical therapist. She’ll keep an eye on me.”

“You’re sure?”

Positive. “What time shall I tell Dad to expect you?”

Though Hal knew his younger son well enough not to be completely swayed by his reassurances, he seemed to reclaim some of his excitement when he got back on the phone to make final arrangements with General Craddock. “I guess we’re still on then, Walter. If Trav has Tess to watch over him, he’ll be all right. She’s a good kid. Who’s this Eileen person? Does she know her way around a boat?”

Travis excused himself and headed for the front door, pulling his cell phone from the waistband of his cut-offs. He took a short-cut across the yard as he punched in a familiar number. He had to get ahold of Tess. He needed to shove aside the lust still sparking through his system and ask his old buddy for a favor.

Schedule me a PT time. Get me out of the house and keep me occupied long enough so that Dad will quit hovering and go back to living his own life. Travis needed an alibi so that the story he’d just told his father and the general wouldn’t make a complete liar out of him.

He was dragging his sorry leg up the back steps to the Bartlett’s patio door before anyone answered. “Hello?”

“T-bone.”

“Trav?”

Searching through the sliding glass door, he spotted her in the kitchen and breathed a momentary sigh of relief. But then his pulse hammered into overdrive as he shamelessly watched her through the window. She wasn’t naked; she wasn’t pleasuring herself the way she had in his dreams. But suddenly he was drop-dead stupid with want for her. He edged closer to the window.

Tess wore a Washington Nationals baseball jersey with Frank Robinson’s number on it. Classic choice. But just like last night on the beach, he couldn’t concentrate on baseball. Either that jersey was way too long, or her shorts were way too short—because he was looking at nothing but smooth, tanned skin on that long stretch of thighs. Capped off by the swells of her sweet backside when she bent over to pull a tin of muffins from the oven, the only thing he could think of was bending her over the counter and getting a little sugar for himself.