Chapter 14
CHAPTER 14
On Friday at 4 PM, I rolled up to the gates of the military base. I had texted Jackson my estimated time of arrival, but it shocked me to see him sitting on the tailgate of his truck waiting for me.
He wore army boots, grey and white military fatigue pants and a grey t-shirt. He also wore some sort of body armor vest and a baseball hat. My heart tripped in my chest. He had more facial hair than I remembered and when he stood up, he looked absolutely massive.
My hands shook as I put my car in park. I did not remember him being this big. Chloe howled with excitement beside me. I opened the passenger door so that she could greet him. I watched as she ran and leaped into his arms. She squirmed and licked him. I saw that familiar smile break across his face and just like that my heart squeezed a bit tighter. If only my reunion with him was as easy. I closed my eyes and took a calming breath.
I got out of the car slowly, feeling self-conscious as he watched with interest as I walked towards him. He set Chloe down who immediately wandered off to explore. It was positively unnerving how good looking he was. I had practiced what I would say to him, but all those witty little conversations completely evaporated beneath his intense scrutiny of me.
“You look bigger than I remember,” I blurted out.
“I tend to bulk up a bit when we’re in training.”
“Oh,” I looked down and pushed a bit of gravel around with the toe of my sneaker.
“How was your drive?”
“It was good.” I looked back up at him.
We studied each other. He seemed tougher, harder to read. We felt like two strangers. Was I married to this man? Away from New York and the loft he seemed so different than I remembered.
“Your boxes arrived.”
“Oh,” I chewed on my lip. “Okay.”
His glance dropped to my stomach. “How’s Alien?”
“Normal. Still inside of me.”
A smile traced on his perfect lips. “Ready for this?”
“Yes.”
“Follow me.”
I followed Jackson’s truck through a fenced gate that reminded me of a border patrol. There were real soldiers with real machine guns. It took over an hour to get my special military ID. I would need that ID to get on and off the base, to buy groceries and to see the doctor.
I slowly followed Jackson’s truck through what appeared to be a small functioning town. I had never been on a military base before. The main street looked quiet and almost deserted. We traveled through a few streets, and then Jackson pulled up in front of a small two-story, boxy white house with a red door and black shutters. It had a huge tree in the front yard. The street looked like an ordinary suburban street.
Clutching my jasmine plant in a death grip, I followed Jackson up to the house. Jackson unlocked the door, and the three of us wandered in to look around.
The house was empty except for my shipped boxes which were stacked high in the hallway. On the left was a small sitting area that extended to a dining room. Straight ahead, was a large kitchen that was stark white. There was an area for a kitchen table. Just off the kitchen was a family room that had windows that overlooked the backyard. The back door led to a sizable plain deck and a massive backyard. Just off the kitchen was a small laundry room closet without a washer and dryer.
Jackson and Chloe stepped outside to explore the backyard. Curiosity drove me upstairs. There were two bedrooms. The master bedroom had a small walk-in closet and a full bath. The hallway had a second bathroom. The place felt different than the loft. This house had a distinct suburban vibe.
I heard the back door slam and then my name, “Emily?”
“Upstairs.” I walked out of the bedroom and looked down.
Jackson stood at the bottom of the stairs. “Some buddies are going to help me move my furniture over from my place.”
“Do you need any help?”
“No. It should be pretty quick.” I couldn’t read the expression on his face. Did he feel as weird having me here, as I felt being here? “How are you holding up?”
“I’m good.”
He studied me for a long moment.
“Okay. I’ll be back soon.”
I unpacked my car and found Chloe’s food dishes. I gave her some dinner, and then I walked around the house. I don’t know what I had been expecting from Jackson, but I hadn’t expected for us to feel like two strangers who were slightly wary of each other.
I was upstairs, unpacking my toiletries when I heard loud male voices come into the living room.
“I can’t believe MacDog got married.”
“I guess hell did freeze over.”
Male laughter followed.
“Did he tell you? He’s been back in training for over a month.”
“Not a word. He just texted me this afternoon and let me know he’s moving into family housing and could I un-ass and help move his furniture.”
“Damn that guy is the vault.”
“You know it.”
“I thought him and Harper broke up after Stubbs and Bixley.”
Who was Harper? What were they talking about?
“They did.”
“She finally figured out how to drag his dick down the aisle.”
More laughter.
I crept down the stairs. Two mountain men that sported the same shaggy haircut that Jackson wore were assembling a dining room table. One of them had a full beard.
One guy spotted me, and he went completely still, and almost instantly the other guy turned around. Real slow and easy they both stood up like I was the threat in the room that needed to be assessed.
The bigger guy, who had a sleeve of tattoos down one arm, said with curiosity in his voice. “Hello.”
“Hi.” I nervously cleared my throat.
They both exchanged glances, and then the bigger one started to laugh and then he looked at the other guy. “I’m sorry. Are we even in the right fucking house?”
We all laughed.
“Are you helping Jackson move?” I asked carefully.
He put big hands on his hips and looked around. “We are.”
“Then you’re in the right house. ”
If he was shocked, he hid it well. He brought one hand up to his chest. “I’m Chris, and this is Alfie.”
“I’m Emily.”
We stared at each for a long moment, and then he tilted his head. “And how do you know Jackson? Are you a friend of Harper’s?”
I swallowed convulsively. I could barely speak. “Jackson and I got…had…HAD a wedding…together.”
Both men just stared at me. Full on I-don’t-believe-a-fucking-word-you-are-telling-me stares. Both of them. At the same time. I had seen that very look on Jackson’s face. Did they teach them this look in the Navy?
“We got married,” I added lamely.
“You’re Jackson’s wife?”
“Yes.”
He gave me a short nod. “Pleased to meet you.”
I didn’t know what to think about the fact that Jackson hadn’t told his friends about me. Was that a bad thing? Where was he anyway?
I was so nervous that my breath hitched in my throat. “Can I help?”
“No, ma’am. We’ll be done here soon.”
“Okay.”
They both watched me while I crept back up the stairs, feeling completely awkward. I stood in the bedroom, my hands on my hot face. I heard the front door slam. And then I heard them through the bedroom window as they walked back to the truck.
“What the fuck just happened?” one of them asked.
They both laughed hard.
“Did she say that she married MacDog?”
I watched from the bedroom window as another two trucks pulled up, one of which was Jackson’s truck. He had changed into jeans and a t-shirt that stretched across his hard chest. Someone pulled out a pack of beer and then they all cracked open their beer cans. All the men were huge, muscular and looked as tough as nails.
“Hey MacDog,” Chris mocked. “Thanks for the heads up that you didn’t marry Harper. I looked like a complete ass asking your bride who the fuck she was.”
Jackson looked calmly at him and then chugged his beer.
Alfie spoke. “Yo fuck face, how did that tiny little thing manage to get your ugly ass up the aisle anyway?”
Jackson took another long drink from his beer and then spoke without looking up. “Emily was the one that needed convincing to get married.”
The rest of the men exchanged significant looks amongst themselves.
Alfie cut in. “Probably because she knew it was illegal to marry a minor. Did the minister card her before he married you?”
They all laughed, including Jackson.
“Do you think your bride can score me some of those girl guide cookies?”
More laughter. And then Jackson had Alfie in a headlock, and they wrestled on the grass. The other guys hooted and hollered. This was a side I had never seen of Jackson. He had friends. Big, hairy, muscular, wrestling friends who drank beer, helped him move and harassed him in good fun. I realized that I had never actually seen Jackson in his environment. In New York, he spent a lot of time either alone or with me. At both of my parties in New York, he had been pretty social, but this camaraderie was completely foreign to me.
Who was Harper? The question nagged at me.
I stood and watched in awe until it dawned on me that at some point soon they would all be coming into the house to unload the trucks. As much as I wanted to lay in the tub, hiding with the shower curtain closed, I instinctively knew that the only way I would get through this was to meet them all head-on. For moral support, I forced Chloe to get up and accompany me downstairs .
I needed to get busy. No one could fault a working person. I would start unpacking. I grabbed a box and ripped it open. I heard laughter and the sound of the men entering the house. They worked seamlessly as a team around me. Alfie and another guy carried in boxes. Chris and Jackson installed the washer and dryer and the other two guys were doing God knows what upstairs. I started to unpack dishes.
They were as curious about me as I was about them. I caught them eyeballing me each time they passed by. I wasn’t even blushing anymore. I was just a constant shade of hot red. Perma-flush, spent about a thousand hours frying two feet away from the sun, kind of red.
They set up Jackson’s furniture. I didn’t even look at it. I was too nervous. I was freaking out more and more by the second. What was I doing here? Why was Jackson so distant? Was it because his buddies were here? Everything felt slightly off.
And then Chris leaned over the counter, cell phone in hand. “What kind of pizza do you like?”
“Ham and pineapple?” My voice sounded like a tiny chirp. I cleared my throat.
“Forbes!” he bellowed, a smile on his face.
“What?” a voice called from the other room.
“We got another Hawaiian lover in the house.”
A huge guy with the bluest eyes I have ever seen popped his head around the corner. He grinned at me. “You realize that you married the wrong man.”
Despite my fears and my nerves, I laughed.
He pointed at himself. “I have a truly refined taste in pizza. Unlike Mr. Meat Lover over there.”
Jackson and I shared a look. He watched the exchange with another one of his hard to read expressions.
Forbes leaned his arm on the counter between us and said in a sultry voice. “So, what do you say? Want to share a pizza?”