4. Jason
4
JASON
H oly shit! Of all the people I expected to see when I came back to Beaufort, Melissa Jacobsen was at the bottom of the list.
But, she topped the list of people I hadn’t stopped thinking about since the day I left.
I carried her memory with me through the Naval Academy. Through flight school. Through TOPGUN. Through deployments and assignments. Through good times and bad. Through hell and back.
I couldn’t quite wrap my mind around the fact that she was standing in front of me, unlocking the door to her apartment. She was all grown-up and fucking gorgeous.
A white hydrangea wreath tied with a red, white, and blue bow framed the gold 3B in the middle of the door. Beneath her feet, a brown fiber doormat read, Shhhh! Sleeping nurse! Knock if you dare.
The top of her head barely came up to the middle of my chest. She always was a little thing.
I thought she was pretty damn cute when we were growing up, even if she was a few years behind me in school. But now, she was all woman.
What I didn’t tell her in the parking lot at the bar was that her little shorts-and-tank top onesie-looking thing made her ass look fantastic.
Damn, that ass.
Mel didn’t even crack five feet tall, but her legs were built like a dream. Smooth and strong. She had impressive muscle tone, and it was so damn sexy. Curves in all the right places, perky tits, big brown eyes, and pouty lips made for kissing.
I would have insisted on driving her home, but she switched to water pretty early on, even though the rest of the girls were still getting plastered.
It was probably good that Bridget had a fiancé to look after her. She’d always had a penchant for finding trouble if trouble didn’t find her first.
Mel pushed the door open and reached into the dark apartment to turn on the lights. The warm aroma of cinnamon and cedar hit my nose.
“Sorry,” she said as she slipped her sandals off and set them on the shoe rack just inside the door. “I have a thing for candles.”
“No, it smells great,” I said as I followed her in and set my shoes beside hers. “Homey.”
“Yeah,” she said, nonchalant. She padded through the combo living room and kitchen, flipping on lights. “I’m surrounded by that sterile hospital smell all day long. I need it to feel cozy when I get home. It helps me relax.”
I could think of a few other positions—uh, ways—to help her relax.
I looked around. “Nice place you’ve got.”
Candles were everywhere. Little votives in glass jars, big candles with multiple wicks, candles on pillars, and candles in jars .
Yellow throw pillows dotted a dark green couch. There was a turquoise blue armchair catty-cornered to the TV. A knit blanket that was somewhere between orange and red was draped over the armrest. She even had a black-and-white shag rug over the hardwoods.
The whole place was retro, funky, and completely Mel.
She had a small table in the breakfast nook. There was a balcony off the kitchen. I could make out the faint outline of metal patio chairs. The L-shaped kitchen was simple but clean.
Vintage vinyl records decorated the walls, and a vase filled with bottle caps sat on a wood coffee table.
“It’s not much, but it’s enough since it’s usually just me,” Mel said. She scooped up a stack of books from the oval mid-century coffee table and disappeared into a dark room to put them away.
True to her word, there were no plants, pets, or other people. But the little touches of her personality made it feel like I was entering her sanctuary.
I shifted the overnight bag I’d brought in from my truck onto my shoulder. I needed to hit the ground running in the morning to find my own place. It bothered me that Bridget never told me she moved.
Mel came back into the living room wearing a pair of little sleep shorts and a tank top.
I diverted my gaze to the records on the wall to keep my pants from getting any tighter. She had an eclectic taste in music. Santana, Journey, and AC/DC were beside each other on the top row. Miles Davis, Kenny Loggins, and Garth Brooks brought up the middle. The bottom row had Chicago, Ricky Martin, and Dolly Parton.
“Help yourself to whatever you want in the kitchen,” Mel said as she filled a glass of water from the tap. “Just be careful with the fridge. Whatever you find in there might not be edible. ”
I dropped my bag by the couch and wandered into the kitchen. “What do you mean?”
She jumped up and sat on the countertop. It almost put us eye to eye. “Working three days on, three days off means I cook… erratically .” She giggled and added, “I forget what I have in there, and it starts getting fuzzy.”
“Are you working tomorrow?”
She shook her head. “I’m about to switch back to working night shift. So, I’m going to sleep in and stay up late to try and get my body back on that schedule.”
“I’ll try to be quiet when I get up, and I’ll lock the door behind me when I leave.” I looked back at the couch. “Thanks, again, for letting me crash here.”
The exhaustion of the day was catching up with me. Mindlessly, I rubbed at the gauze dressing that covered my stitches. Mel’s mouth turned down in a frown. “Is it bothering you?”
I waved it off. “Nah, just a little sore.”
She pinned me with a raised eyebrow. “Don’t be messing with it and ripping up all of Dr. Price’s handiwork. I got you the best set of hands in the ER for your sutures.”
I snickered and tipped my head to the side. “Nah, you just didn’t want me flirting with anyone else.”
She poked my wound, and I winced. “I don’t care who you flirt with, flyboy. Just don’t do it when I’m the one who has to keep the baby nurslings in check.”
I chuckled. “Your baby nurslings?”
“I’m a nurse preceptor, and I take that very seriously.”
“You need to let loose.”
“I let loose plenty.”
“Oh yeah?” I crossed my arms over my chest and tried to hide the grimace as pain lanced through my pec muscle. “What do you do for fun? ”
Mel hopped off the counter and pointed to one of the chairs at her table. “Sit.”
She disappeared for a moment, then returned with a first aid kit and a blue caddy organizer. I walked over and peeked in the caddy as she opened the first aid kit. She had an assortment of trauma shears, medical tape, alcohol prep pads, and a shit-ton of Jolly Ranchers.
“I didn’t really peg you as having a sweet tooth,” I said as I sat down obediently.
She pulled a paper packet of gauze out of the first-aid kit and tore it open. “I don’t,” she said with a smile. “For the record, I have crayons in there, too. I keep them on hand for when kids are brought in.” She paused and eyed me up and down. “Or kids at heart.”
I scrubbed my hand down my mouth to hide my smile. “I’m not sure if you just called me a five-year-old or just old.”
Mel picked at a roll of white medical tape until the strip peeled back. “Well, you are retired .”
“So, you’re a softie when it comes to kids, huh?” I grabbed the neck of my shirt and pulled it off. “Why are you working in the ER, then? Why not pediatrics?”
She stood between my knees and— Lord, forgive me —I stared straight at her tits. The bra she had on beneath her pajama tank top only served to push them up. I licked my lips, staring at the swells as my heartbeat roared like a jet engine.
“For the same reason you like to fly planes that break the sound barrier,” she said. Her voice snapped me out of my boob-induced trance.
“Adrenaline junkie?”
She cocked a finger gun at me. “You got it, flyboy.”
“Which brings us back to what you like to do for fun,” I said. Mel began to peel the dressing off my skin, and I hissed .
“Sorry,” Mel mumbled as she stepped closer. She pressed her palm flat against my pec, pulling the skin taut.
I swallowed thickly and clasped my hands together, hiding my crotch. I barely noticed that she’d pulled the tape and gauze off.
My eyes were fixed on the steady rise-and-fall of her tits. I loved the feel of her hands on my body. Those hands felt so fucking good.
She tossed the old dressing aside and cleaned around the sutures with an alcohol pad.
“I work out a lot. In the summer, I run on the beach and work out outside. When it gets cold or the weather’s bad, I go to a gym. I paddleboard in the Sound. I like rock-climbing. I go to the bar a few nights a week and meet up with whoever’s free. And we have poker night on Monday.” She smiled, wide and bright. “I keep myself pretty busy.”
“Sounds like it.”
“There.” Mel smoothed her hand down the fresh dressing. “Good as new. You can shower tomorrow. Just don’t submerge the stitches.” She eyed me sternly. “So, no swimming or surfing.”
I leaned back in the chair and picked my shirt up off the table. “I’ll probably take it easy tomorrow. Go see Bridget. Look for a rental or something short-term.”
Mel balled up the discarded packaging and tossed it in the trash. “I was going to ask how long you were staying in town, but it sounds like you’re just passing through.”
“I was planning on some R&R before going to work for a buddy of mine.”
“Oh yeah?” she said over her shoulder.
“Yeah. A guy I served with flies private planes now. He’s based out of Miami. Said he has an open seat in the cockpit, shuttling rich people around if I get bored.” I shrugged. “It’s not a done deal, but I might give it a go when you and Bee get tired of me. ”
Mel giggled as she turned out the kitchen lights and shooed me into the living room. “Well, you’re welcome to stay here as long as you like. I have a spare key you can use. It’s in the junk drawer by the fridge.” She opened a closet and pulled out a stack of blankets and a spare pillow. “Besides, I’m not opposed to some quid pro quo. Don’t think I won’t be cashing in this little favor if I ever need to fly somewhere. Can I just say I know Captain McGrath?”
“That’s Lieutenant Commander McGrath.” I smirked. “You won’t find me flying commercial. The planes are too slow, and I’m not into customer service.”
“Look at you, fancy pants.” Mel laughed. “That O-4 pension must be nice.”
I grinned. “Uncle Sam and I ended things on good terms.”
“Then I won’t feel bad about there not being anything here for breakfast.” She laughed. “But I think Bee is the one opening the bar in the morning. You should go. The cook makes a mean stack of pancakes.”
I looked down at my abs and poked them. “Eh, I’ll go see her, but I’m more of a protein shake in the morning kind of guy.”
Mel rolled her eyes. “Don’t tell me you count macros and shit. And for Pete’s sake, if you’re on the keto diet, I will kick you out.”
I looked her up and down. Mel had an impressive amount of muscle. She was tight and toned everywhere. “Takes one to know one.”
She crooked a finger, beckoning me to come closer. “I’ll let you in on a secret.”
I leaned down to hear what she had to say.
Mel craned her head forward. Her tongue darted out, wetting her lips. “I work out because I like feeling strong when I’m naked.”
Fucking shit.
She smirked and patted my cheek. “That, and I like to be able to eat whatever I want. But have fun with your rabbit food. I’ll see you in the morning.” Her ass swayed back and forth as she waltzed off to her bedroom and shut the door.
I wondered if it was uncouth to jerk off while staying in someone else’s house.
“I’m sorry to drop by this early. Can I come in?”
Was that Bridget?
I stirred in my sleep. I had been sleeping like a rock in Mel’s living room. Was someone here? I vaguely remembered Mel telling me that she planned on sleeping in. I opened my eyes a smidge and looked around. It was still dark.
Must be dreaming. I closed my eyes again.
“He’s asleep on my couch. But please—I’d love to wake him up and clue him into this conversation.”
“Why the hell is my brother on your couch?”
“Because you didn’t tell him you moved out of your apartment and moved in with Kyle like two and a half years ago! Are you fucking kidding me right now? First, you don’t tell anyone that you agreed to marry that prick, and now I find out that Jason’s more in the dark than we are!”
I shifted on the couch, balling up the pillow under my neck. The voices quieted. If I was dreaming about Mel twelve hours after seeing her again, then damn. Keeping my hands to myself was going to take an absurd amount of restraint. =
I lingered in the twilight zone, half-asleep but still sort of lucid.
“Look, can we talk about this later? I need to get to work and ? —”
“Oh my God!”
That was definitely Melissa. I rubbed my eyes. “Mel?” I called out in a sort of shout-whisper. I didn’t want to wake her if I was actually dreaming .
“Sorry,” she said softly as she stepped into the light. “I just—uh—got up to use the bathroom.”
I pointed to the first aid kit in her hand. “You ’aight?”
“Yeah, I was just putting it away… You know, from earlier.”
I nodded and laid my head back on the pillow. “Night, Mel.”
“Night, Jase.”
I was so fucking tired. Even if I wasn’t scoring any REM sleep, drifting off still felt good.
“I think he’s asleep again. Look, I can’t fix this. You need X-rays.”
“You know I can’t go to the ER.”
“I’m going to kill him.”
“Things were getting better, I swear. He just… It was a lapse of judgment, and he apologized. I shouldn’t have gotten so tipsy at the bar last night.”
“I don’t care if you were blackout drunk. He shouldn’t be putting his fucking hands on you.”
“Look, are you going to help me or not?”
“You need to be seen by a doctor. You need X-rays. Probably a CT scan, too, if I had to guess.”
“If I show up to the ER like this, they’ll have to report it.”
“I think you’re forgetting that I’m a mandatory reporter. When you show up here, you have me skirting the line, but I could still lose my nursing license.”
“Please. Can’t you just tape it up or something so I can go to work?”
“And what? Wear long sleeves again? The sun isn’t even up, and it’s almost triple digits outside. People are going to ask questions.”
“Please. Just don’t say anything to Jason.”
“I haven’t said anything to anyone because you promised me you were going to leave Kingsley. You said if I kept my mouth shut, you’d handle it. But this… He’s escalating.”
“I’m working on it, okay? It’s complicated.”
“You’re making it more complicated than it is. There are six houses between the eleven of us—twelve with Jase. Twelve of us to help you get out. So, please, make me understand why you haven’t left him yet.”
“I just need more time.”
“You know, he’s lucky I haven’t gotten my hands on him. Lord only knows what will happen if Chase finds out.”
“Chase isn’t going to find out. Ever.”
“I don’t care if you don’t think it’s my place to say something. If this happens again, I will report it. One time is too many, and this has gone on long enough.”
I drifted from the twilight zone into a deep slumber. Sleep felt so fucking good.