CHAPTER SEVEN
TRINA
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“What are you doing here?” I ask Briar, tugging up my sleep shorts and straightening my tank top.
I’ve been binge watching something on Netflix while doom scrolling on social media. Somehow I found my way into dancing chickens on TikTok and I’m not sorry. Four of them bouncing to “Gangsters Paradise” wearing Ray Bans on was worth staying home for.
Except it looks like my night is about to be interrupted.
A Cheerio falls out of my hair, but I catch it and shove it in my mouth.
“My god!” Aidan exclaims and glances over his shoulder to the doorstep. “I’ll just wait out here.”
Wise decision.
I cross my arms as Briar pushes past me.
“Come on. Get dressed. You never miss a party. Savannah wants you there,” she insists and shoves a garment bag into my arms.
I catch it before it slips to the floor and give her a questioning look. I saw the logo, I’m not immune.
“It’s the powder pink Saint Laurant dress you were fawning over last month.”
Oh. My. God.
I clutch it harder to my chest and gasp, making a quick calculation about how much I want to wear the stunning designer outfit—it’s basically a body suit with a blush tulle wrap—compared to avoiding Marshall.
The dress wins.
I will just stay on the other side of the room from him and take a million selfies of me wearing the dress.
“Fine. Give me fifteen minutes.” I dart into my bedroom and hear Adian groan as I shut the door.
Thirty minutes later, I do a little dance on the spot and twirl before climbing into the back of his car with Briar.
“I can’t believe she let me borrow it.”
“I bribed her.” Briar laughs.
“With your soul?” I ask, nudging her with my elbow playfully. “Totally worth it babe.”
She giggles.
“Thanks for getting me out of the house. I probably won’t stay long, but I appreciate it,” I admit.
I’ve been going over and over my plan. Marshall won’t leave me alone. He never does.
After our kiss, I know if I see him again, it’s going to be difficult to not want him to touch me again. I cannot sleep with him. I will never forgive myself.
He’s a gorgeous man. Tall, way too handsome, an incredible body, and cheeky personality.
Basically, walking hero.
Which I will not succumb to.
Damn dress. It weakened me.
“Well Alice is sick, and while Cassy and Scarlet will be there, you know how sensitive Savannah is at the moment. I want it to be a fun night for her.”
I suddenly feel selfish.
The actress was shot by the girl she thought was her best friend. Fortunately, through Briar and Cassy she’s met all of us. We don’t care that she’s one of the most famous women on the planet—although borrowing items from her wardrobe is a huge bonus—we love her.
She truly is a kind, funny, and talented person.
I don’t let just anyone into my life. But Sav is one of us girls now.
“Ugh, I shouldn’t have canceled. Does she know?” I ask.
“No. I hoped I could convince you.”
Good.
“Can I ask you something?” Aidan turns from the front seat.
“Sure.”
“Does this have anything to do with Marshall?” he asks, his voice deep and serious.
My mouth parts.
“It fucking does. I’m going to kill him. What happened?” He growls.
Oh, shit.
“I, uh, what?”
“You don’t need to say anymore.” Aidan turns back around and over his shoulder he adds, “He won’t be here tonight so no need to worry.”
He won’t?
Disappointment fills me and I can’t for the life of me work out why I’m unhappy.
I’m actively avoiding the annoying soldier. Just ask the fifteen dancing ChickenToks I watched. And the four episodes of whatever show I wasn’t watching on Netflix.
“What happened?” Briar hisses under her breath.
“Nothing,” I hiss back sharply.
Nothing.
Nothing happened.
Except for one damn kiss I can’t stop thinking about, and a burning need that he’s sparked inside of me. I’m like a walking horny pregnant woman without the baby. All I can think of is having sex with him.
I tried to get him out of my system by accepting a Tinder date mid-week and that was an absolute disaster. While he was very pretty to look at in his custom-made suit and mussed up hair, the director of marketing—or was it sales?—went on and on about the tech market boring me to tears.
I even considered sleeping with him. For thirty seconds. The moment the night came to its natural end I knew I didn’t want him to touch me.
Which just means, Marshall has broken me.
It’s his body I want lying over me. Those damn blue eyes bearing down on me as I link my arms around his neck and melt into his succulent mouth.
Goddamn. His annoyingly masculine scent seems to have seared itself into my stupid nostrils.
In my dreams I’ve heard his southern drawl calling me his wolf, and it’s so arousing I wake up wet and with my fingers in my pussy.
I need him to fuck me.
I’m so mad about that.
“Where is he?” I find myself asking.
Aidan twists his head twenty degrees. “Sorry, that’s classified.”
What?
My stomach twists into a knot at those words and I’m suddenly pulled back to my childhood and a stark reminder of why I need to stay the hell away from the handsome soldier.
“Mom, someone is at the door!” I yell from my bedroom, trying to focus on my homework. Well, it’s music but I’m not telling her that.
“You can answer it too, Trina Thomas. Your hands aren’t painted on.”
I roll my eyes and put my headphones back on.
When I hear mom scream I bolt back upright and rip them off, running out of my bedroom.
Two men in uniform are standing at the door. Which isn’t unusual as we live on an army base. When I take in their formal attire and facial expressions, dread rushes through me.
But it’s my mother, leaning on the door jamb and crumbling to the floor that has me rushing to her.
“Mom! Mom! What’s wrong?” But I know. I lift my eyes to the two officers and ask, “Where’s my father?”
“No! No. He said he would always come home.” Mom cries and tears start rolling down my face.
Two of the other moms from across the street run over and grab my mother, leading us both into the living room as the officers leave.
“He said he would come back to us.” Mom cries into Olive’s shoulder and reaches for me.
I stare at her blankly.
“Where is Dad?”
I won’t accept it until someone says it out loud.
“WHERE is DAD!?” I yell like a lunatic.
Mom pales further.
“Do they have him? Does the enemy have him?” I know I’m grasping at straws but if he is still alive there is hope.
“Honey,” Lisa Smith’s mom grabs me and pulls me into a tight hug. I’ve known her all my life. Her dad and mine seem to have always been stationed at the same places.
I stiffen and just let her hold me, waiting for the words to be said out loud.
When she releases me, I stare at Mom and she’s shaking.
“He’s gone, bubba.” She uses his nickname for me. “Daddy’s gone.”
That’s the moment my world shattered. The moment I hated the military and swore I would never fall in love with a man in uniform.
Unfortunately, I lied to myself.
Then again, when you’ve been raised as an army brat and all your friends are too, it means the men you meet are likely to follow in their parent’s footsteps. Which is exactly what Anthony Drivers did. He joined the Marines and came home in his fancy uniform and my ovaries sat up and took in the boy I’d grown up with.
Stupid damn things.
Next minute he took my virginity along with three other girls’ that summer. Unfortunately, I didn’t find out for two years.
And there were many more during that time.
It was only when I thought I was pregnant and we were both standing over the little white stick waiting for the pink lines to appear that Anthony announced, “I slept with Mindy.”
My face.
I was shocked and then angry all in the same split second.
“You what?” I exclaimed as I looked up at the six-foot-two cheater.
“And Sarah.” Anthony ran his hand through his hair. “And...Lilly.”
My brows were almost in the clouds by then. “ALL of them?”
We both stared down at the single pink line and let out an audible sigh.
“Get out,” I screamed, pushing his chest. “Get out and I don’t ever want to see you again, you useless lying piece of shit.”
He uttered a bunch of weak apologies as I shoved him out the door.
Fucking military.
Fucking men in uniform.
They can’t keep their cocks in their pants.
So, when Briar started seeing Aidan I had to hold my tongue. Which is not something I do easily. I know they’re paramilitary now—meaning private and independent—but in my opinion, they’re all cut from the same cloth.
As the saying goes.
When I heard the background story, I couldn’t argue that the two of them seemed to be meant for one another. That doesn’t mean all of them are good guys.
Ryder and Savannah are an amazing couple. So are Josh and Cassy.
But that’s three.
The amount of bullshit I’ve observed over the years in the bars on the barracks would put any woman off. A couple of drinks and enough of their buddies...well it doesn’t matter if they have a good wife at home.
They’re playboys who think the uniform they wear will spread legs. The problem is...it does.
But not mine.
Okay, the truth is, I may have slept with one or two more. A Navy SEAL—can you blame me—and a pilot from the Australian Airforce who was visiting. But it was on my terms and with zero expectations. Or better put, I had no interest in a relationship with them.
Nor did they want one.
What I did do was check both of them were single and unmarried before letting them slide down my body to the promise land.
If they lied, that’s on them.
All of that said, growing up around this world and losing Dad, I have a strong understanding about the dangers and risks to these men and women.
Sorry, that’s classified.
I might have sworn off military men in general but that doesn’t mean I’m not attracted to them, or that Marshall’s ridiculous flirting and our kiss didn’t affect me.
It did.
When I’m not thinking about him, I’m thinking that I’m not thinking about him.
My job as a sales consultant isn’t enough of a distraction, unfortunately. I’m out on the road driving around Los Angeles meeting customers and suppliers.
That’s a lot of drive time to think and think...and think about all that muscle, those blue eyes, and the way his mouth totally possessed me.
Imagine if I’d been sober and could remember it all.
Goddamn him.
Yes I wanted to avoid him, but now I know he’s out on a classified mission all I can do is stare out the window and worry. I don’t even care about the Saint Laurant dress anymore. That’s significant.
I swear, if Marshall doesn’t come home I’ll kill him.