18. Jason
18
JASON
H ot and cold.
That was my plan. I was going to make Mel so out-of-her-mind turned on that she wouldn’t know what to do with herself.
The shower incident had been a complete accident, and I felt a little bad about the bruise on her hip. Still, Mel was more pissed at me teasing her about the size of her sex toy than she was about me causing her to slip in the shower.
Ever since, I had been seducing her one minute, then acting casual the next.
Sexual whiplash was cruel, but effective.
The frigid air conditioning mixed with the smell of the menagerie of candles burning pummeled me in the face as I quietly closed the apartment door behind me. I had just come up from loading the paddleboards in my truck. Mel was supposed to be getting ready to go with me, but she was on the phone.
Her bedroom door was open, so it wasn’t technically eavesdropping. It was simply a roommate casualty .
“Girl, I’m serious,” she snickered as she closed her closet door. “I’m about to lose my mind. He’ll go from being all touchy-feely to acting like I’m just one of the guys.” There was a pause as Mel listened to the other end. She giggled and replied, “It’s a friggin’ mind-fuck is what it is! I can’t figure out what his angle is.” It wasn’t long before she blew off whatever the other person said. “Pshh—it’s Jase we’re talking about. He doesn’t see me like that. He’s probably just fucking with my head because he’s bored or something.”
I stayed quiet while I finished packing my dry bag.
“Okay, so like, he was acting totally normal when we were at Mad and Luca’s for poker, and then when we got back to the apartment, we decided to watch a movie. Totally normal friend stuff, right? It wasn’t even something romantic. We watched Argo. The movie intro hadn’t even finished, and he was stretching out on the couch. You know, like, one leg on the couch, one foot on the floor kind of thing. So I either had to sit in the chair, on the floor, or between his legs on the couch.” There was a pause, then Mel snorted. “ Of course I sat on the damn couch! It’s my couch to begin with! But like, he doesn’t even do the normal guy thing where he hides getting a hard-on. He just leaves it flying high or snuggles up to me so that we’re basically dry humping.” Another pause. “I know he’s your brother! Hell, you’re the one who’s playing matchmaker this time around. Maddie would be thrilled that she gets a break from all the meddling.”
So, she was talking to Bridget about me. I laughed under my breath as I let the air out of my dry bag and sealed it up.
“Seriously, Bee. I’m about to lose my mind. I need like five minutes in the apartment. Alone. ” She waited to hear what Bridget had to say. Apparently, she didn’t like it because she screeched, nearly shattering the lightbulbs. “He’s making me so fucking horny and then cockblocking me! And he’s not even cockblocking a real cock! He’s cockblocking a fake cock! Y’all need to go have a family reunion or something so I can get off. Or, better yet, I might just get busy and demand an orgasm from the guy I have a date with this weekend before we even make it to dinner.”
Hell no. I swear, the fact that Mel was still planning on going through with that stupid date was just for the sake of getting back at me the only way she knew how.
“Goose, you ready to go?” I hollered as I pulled my dry bag on my shoulder.
There was a long pause, but I heard her padding toward the living room. “Oh my God, Bee. It’s just a stupid nickname.” Melissa rolled her eyes as she walked in but cut a smile at me. Her phone was wedged between her ear and her shoulder, and she had a crossbody bag in her hand. “I’ll talk to you later. We might swing by the bar for a bite when we get back.” Mel held up the one-second finger. “Okay. Love you, babe. Have a good shift.”
“My sister?” I asked, though I already knew the answer.
“Yeah, she was just seeing if we had left yet. I told her we’d swing by the bar for dinner after, or I’d call her and give her proof of life when we got back to shore.”
“I’m cool with getting dinner at the bar. You pack a change of clothes?”
“Yep.” She held up her bag. “I’m just gonna leave it in the truck. Mind if I throw my phone in your dry bag when we get there?”
“Cool with me.” I tipped my head to the door. “Ready to go?”
“Yep!” She was bouncing on her toes, and it was so fucking adorable.
I blew out the candles, put my hand on the small of her back, and led her out of the apartment. We hurried down the stairs, tossed our bags in the bed of my truck, and hopped in .
Mel was turning the radio dial before we even made it out of the parking lot. Heat rippled off every surface, but driving through Morehead City with the windows down made it somewhat bearable.
Mel had her feet kicked up on the dash and had one arm out the window as she scrolled through her phone. She’d settled on an oldies station. With Fleetwood Mac crackling through the speakers, I reached over and wrapped my palm around her shin.
She barely looked up from her phone, but I caught the slight smile and the playful roll of her eyes.
I elbowed her. “C’mon, Goose. Lighten up.” I flashed her a smile as we started over the bridge to Radio Island. Sailboats and fishing boats dotted the crystalline water. Speedboats bounced off the surface, flying and then slowing as they went from wake to no wake zone. “It’s gonna be a good day.”
I draped my arm across the back of the seats, and Mel leaned her head back onto it as we took the second bridge from Radio Island into Beaufort.
I loved the way the green marsh cut through the bright blue water. I had been to beaches all over the world, but something about North Carolina made them all pale in comparison.
“How long has it been since you’ve been paddleboarding?” she asked as she set her phone in the little compartment where I kept loose change and gum wrappers.
“A while,” I admitted. “So take it easy on me, alright?”
Her smile was as bright as the midday sun. “No promises, flyboy.”
I took a turn into downtown Beaufort, winding through the tight streets. We passed Revanche, Queen’s Coffee, and the Taylor Creek Inn. Front Street was bustling this time of day. Usually, I would avoid the more touristy spots in the middle of the summer, but Mel wanted to go paddleboarding. It wouldn’t be crowded once we got out onto the water.
I had to loop Front Street twice before a parking space opened up by the boat ramp. I eased the truck in and cut the engine.
The salty air wafted in through the open windows, instantly putting me at ease. Sure, I could have joined the Air Force and had a great career as a pilot, but I loved the water as much as the air. The Navy had been a perfect fit.
Mel had her seatbelt off before I even got the keys out of the ignition. She grabbed the bottom of her tank top and ripped it over her head.
Holy fuck. Her tits, barely restrained by her orange bikini top, bounced as she took off her shirt. I didn’t even bother hiding the fact that I was staring.
Mel caught my gaze and rolled her eyes. “Don’t look at me like that. You’ve seen me in a swimsuit before.”
“Yeah, when you were fourteen.” I swallowed, looking her up and down. “You aren’t fourteen anymore.”
“Don’t make this weird,” she clipped as she shimmied her denim shorts down. The matching bikini bottoms only covered half of each ass cheek.
I wanted to dig my fingers in. Wanted her to scoot over the bench seat and straddle me. I wanted to squeeze her ass as I pistoned fast and hard into her pussy. I wanted to see her tits bounce in my face as I fucked her.
I stripped my t-shirt off and folded it up neatly. You could take the man out of the military, but you couldn’t take the military out of the man.
“I’m not making this weird,” I clipped, pinning her with a hard glare. “I’m just reminding you that there’s nothing stopping me now.”
“What was stopping you before?” she clipped. The comment was surprising. Frankly, it was the first time she had called my hand.
I licked my lips and gave her one last raptorial look. “Me.” It was the goddamn truth, too. Her little nose wrinkled, but before she could come back with some snippy line, I opened my door and said, “Let’s get on the water.”
I pulled the boards and paddles out of the bed of the truck. I slipped our phones and keys in the dry bag and slung it on my back after sealing it back up. I knew that Mel could very well carry her own board down to the end of the dock, but I wasn’t about to let her do that. Instead, I handed her the paddles to take and tucked one board under each arm.
We made quick work of getting the paddleboards in the water and pushed away from the shoreline. Mel more so than me. She took to hers like a pro while I bobbled back and forth like a newborn giraffe.
After a little instruction and some light teasing, Mel had me squared away, cutting through the water between Front Street and the Rachel Carson Reserve. It had been decades since I’d seen the wild horses running fast and free.
Something had always tethered me to Beaufort. I always assumed it was my sister still being here. But the truth was, if Bridget had moved on somewhere else, I would have come back eventually. Even if Mel had moved on, the memories we had together would have been what anchored me.
I always had a craving for adventure. Always wanted something more than what this little fishing town had to offer.
I had done it. I went off and saw the world. Saw nearly every corner of the globe from the ground, the water, and the clouds. But something brought me home.
Her.
She made me want to trade my wings for roots .
When I was on active duty, nothing made me jumpier than a mission getting scrapped or getting grounded for weather. I was made to soar. But now, I was ready to dig deep. Plant myself here. Build something that wasn’t fleeting.
Mel smiled at me from her paddleboard as we rounded the little shoals. She had wanted to paddle out to Shackleford Banks—one of the barrier islands. It was nearly a three-mile paddle—six miles round trip. We had packed snacks in my dry bag to dig into when we got to the island.
“You doing alright, flyboy?” Mel called out from ahead of me.
Damn, how was she so fast ? My wingspan was double hers, and she was way ahead of me. I didn’t mind in the slightest. Staying a few strokes behind gave me the chance to stare unabashedly at her body.
She was a short little thing. Hell, she didn’t even hit five feet and probably hadn’t grown since grade school. Mel didn’t let that stop her.
Her body was a goddamn work of art. If anyone’s form should be in a museum for posterity, it should be hers. Powerful calves, thick, muscular thighs. An ass like a fucking dream. I wanted to sink my teeth into it and mark her as mine.
Mine.
Her hips and waist were narrow, and her abs were strong. They held up the most spectacular breasts I’d ever seen. Perky little things that fit perfectly into the palm of my hand.
Mel’s biceps probably intimidated most of the male population, but not me. She earned those guns through hours of hard workouts. She was kickass and didn’t need me or anyone else to take care of her.
I think that’s what drew me to her, even all those years ago. She didn’t need me for a damn thing, but my God, I wanted her.
“Almost there!” she called over her shoulder .
I had been so lost in my own thoughts that I didn’t realize we were almost to the banks. Raindrops splashed on my bare shoulders like a warning shot. Mel must’ve felt it, too. I picked up my pace, my paddle slicing through the water. We had been traveling with the current this time, but the trip back would be harder.
“Let’s get up there and pull the boards up under the trees,” I said as I caught up to her with quick strokes. “Hopefully, it’s just one of those quick showers.”
My paddleboard scuffed against a sandbar, so I jumped into the water and swam up to shore. Mel made it a little farther than I did, but eventually, she hopped off and swam up to the beach.
As soon as my feet hit the dry sand, the clouds opened up, and the sky let loose, drenching us in a midday downpour.
Mel squealed as we hauled ass up the shoreline to take shelter under the low remnants of cedar trees.
“Let me have your board,” I said. I carried both boards up to a spot on the treeline. There were sets of stumps and mounds of scrubby vegetation surrounding an open patch of sand and low grass. I stretched both boards across the bushes and stumps, creating a makeshift shelter until the storm passed.
“Good thinking, flyboy,” Mel said as she crawled under the paddleboards. The shelter wasn’t tall enough to stand in, even for a little thing like Mel, but we could sit up comfortably enough. “Is this what they taught you in land survival training?”
It always surprised me when Mel dropped little things about my military training into our conversations. Sure, she was a military brat, but her dad was in a different branch. He and I had very different MOS assignments.
“Bee always told me what you were up to,” she continued. “Flight school, water, and land survival training, SERE training.”
That last one brought back some fucked up memories. SERE wasn’t just survival, evasion, resistance, and escape training. It was hell.
I was grateful that I’d never been in a situation where I needed the training. Sure, I’d had some close calls over all the hours I logged in the cockpit. I’d performed more evasive maneuvers than I could count. I’d had instrument malfunctions and engines go down. I had missed the arresting wires on the flight deck of aircraft carriers during night landings. All of that paled in comparison to what the instructors put us through in SERE.
“Hey, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring up bad memories or something…” Mel said, laying a gentle hand on my knee. Sand covered arm, making it look like sugar was coating her body.
I bet she’d taste just as sweet.
I couldn’t help but stare at the pout of her mouth. The thin line pressed down the middle of her lower lip, making it look soft as clouds.
“Don’t worry about it,” I said quietly as I cupped my palm around the back of her bent knee. There was a small scar on her kneecap. I brushed my thumb over it. “What’s that from?”
Her lips split in a smile as she looked down, tilting her knee toward me so I could get a better look. “I tripped over a volleyball net when I was seven. It was one of those outdoor ones you could put up in your yard. I was playing tag with some of the other kids on base and didn’t see the strings that held the net up. I wasn’t looking where I was running, and I tripped. It pulled one of the stakes out of the ground and sliced my knee.”
I stroked my thumb over the scar. “I bet you didn’t even cry.”
Something akin to sadness flashed across her face. It was so fast, it was like a lightning strike—there and then gone. “Nope.” Her voice was soft, but devoid of any emotion. “No tears were allowed in the Jacobsen household.”
“What base was that at? ”
“MCB Quantico. Virginia.”
“The Potomac isn’t near as pretty as this,” I said as I looked out at the rain pelting the current running drifting down the Sound. I hadn’t let go of her knee, nor had I stopped rubbing gentle circles over the scar.
“Nope.” She leaned over and rested her head on my shoulder. “This is home.”