Chapter 7
CHAPTER 7
C hris and Logan came over, knocking on her door at five a.m. the next morning, coffee cups in hands. The look Logan gave her, one of intense longing, made her heart swell with such happiness that Jess felt as if she were walking on air. Whatever lay between them was good, solid and incredible. Jess had called out for them to come back in thirty minutes, gotten up, and used a pail of water to clean herself up. Then she threw on her green T-shirt and cammos along with her boots. By the time the two SEALs returned, the smell of fresh coffee filled the small mud house. The look of gratefulness on Chris’s face made it all worth it. He poured his coffee and then made an excuse and left.
“Stay,” she whispered, pouring Logan his coffee.
“I got about twenty minutes,” he said. Setting the cup down, he went over and shut and locked the door. Turning back, he walked over to her, wisping his fingers through her black hair, tipping her head up just enough to slide his mouth across hers. Logan felt Jess sigh and lean languidly against him, her arms sliding around his shoulders. She tasted of coffee and that particular inner sweetness of hers that drove him wild.
“Did you sleep?” he demanded; his voice rough as he watched her eyes slowly close while he massaged her scalp.
“Mmmm, I did. Like a baby.” Jess forced her eyes open, searching his. “And you?”
“I missed you. I sleep better if you’re beside me.”
The male growl in his voice made her quiver inwardly. Already, she was feeling her body flex in memory of what his hands and mouth could do to pleasure her. “We have to be patient, Logan.”
“I know.” He gave her a raw look. “But after last night…”
Jess picked up her cup. Her hand shook a little as she poured the coffee into it. “I wonder if this will last, Logan? Us? The intensity of how we feel around one another, how we make love, I-I’ve never experienced anything like his before.” She cast a glance up at him. Logan wore only his work shirt, which clung like a second skin across his broad shoulders and deep chest. He was so male. Alpha male. He was territorial, protective of her, and Jess found herself feeling a sense of safety she’d never before felt. Why? Was it love? Or lust? She almost asked, but bit the question back, knowing it was the wrong time and place. Geez, it had all happened so fast! “In some ways,” Jess admitted, her voice a bit breathless, “I feel like I’ve been spun around a bunch times fast. I’ve not gotten my balance back yet. I feel… out of kilter.”
Logan slid his fingers beneath her hair, slowly moving them across her sensitive nape, watching her expression soften, her eyes go half closed. There was nothing but honesty in Jess. “I feel the same way,” he admitted.
“Does it bother you?” She watched Logan’s well-shaped mouth draw into a wry grin.
“What? That I’m attracted to you? That you are so damned hot I can’t believe it? That I can’t get enough of you? No, I’m not worried, Jess. I like every second of it. I like being with you.” Logan moved her hair aside, lightly biting her nape, feeling her shiver and gasp, and then moved his tongue across her velvety skin and kissed the damp spot.
“You are half-man, half-animal, Logan. I swear, you are.”
“But you like it,” he growled, nibbling her earlobe, finding that sweet spot just behind it, licking there, hearing her sigh, feeling her starting to melt in his hands.
“Maybe I’m just a nymphomaniac and never knew it?” Jess asked, laughing softly, seeing amusement glimmer in his blue eyes.
“You hadn’t had sex for a year,” he reminded her. “That’s enough to make you ravenous for a while. Don’t you think?”
“Mmm, I don’t know,” Jess said honestly, searching his amused expression. “I’ve had three serious relationships in my life and that’s not much to go on. You SEALs have a real reputation with the women. I’m going to rely on your ample knowledge of sex,” she teased, sliding her fingers across his stubble.
Setting his cup down next to hers, Logan took her into his arms, maintaining a meaningful eye contact with her. “In all modesty: it’s true,” he admitted, “so that’s why you really need to believe me when I tell you that no woman has ever tangled me up like you have. All I have to do is picture your face in my mind, Jess, or replay your voice in my head, and I’m growing hard. I’d been going around with a perpetual ache since we parted ways at Bagram, and it’s your fault.” Logan saw her eyes glimmer with laughter. “No woman has ever done that to me. Does that tell you something? That you’re special to me? That what we have is so damned unique? I’m still reeling from it. I can’t explain it, either. But I’m not going to run away from it either, just because I don’t understand it completely. Are you?”
Jess relaxed in his strong arms, her hands resting on his biceps that flexed as she smoothed the fabric of his sleeves. “I’m not running. I’ve never felt like I feel about you, Logan. Sometimes, it scares me. I’m scared because I could lose you. We could be torn apart because of our military careers…”
“All you see is walls and hurdles,” Logan teased, kissing the tip of her nose. “And all I see are workarounds.”
“I like the way you think.”
“I got here, didn’t I?” When her lips moved into a warm smile, his heart opened so damned wide Logan felt like he might die of a heart attack. But what a way to die.
“You did.”
He brushed her mouth. “Duty calls, Babe. I need to saddle up. I’ll see you when I can. Have MREs with us again? Tonight, outside our hut?”
“Love to,” Jess murmured, releasing him. She watched Logan pick up his gear and cup of coffee. Her throat tightened as he slipped out the door, silent like a shadow. As she sipped from her own cup, feeling the warmth of it between her hands, she heard the village waking up outside. Roosters were crowing. Goats were bleating to be let out of their corrals to go eat. It was nearly 0600. Time to get saddled up herself. At 0630, her crew would be waiting for her at the drill site.
***
Logan sat with Chris up on the roof of the chieftain’s house. The high, noontime sun was brutal in the light blue sky. This was their first day as snipers on overwatch and there was a lot to check out. They had rigged a desert camouflage tarp, stringing it up with ropes so that it hung stretched out overhead, shading them from the aggressive sun. It was still hotter than hell, despite their best efforts, but it was something at least. Logan sat with the terrain maps he’d brought along, and, on them, they considered the route of the only dirt road that led from here to the other four villages strung miles apart from one another to the north. The valley was not a large one, enclosed by the tall, rugged Hindu Kush mountains on either side. Throughout the morning, they had spotted men on foot leading a donkey laden with a huge bundle of cut wood, two men on motorbikes, and several on foot. There was plenty of trade between the villages, it seemed, and each time one of the scattered groups approached the village, the two snipers took long-lens photos of them. Right now, it was all about gathering the necessary intel to better understand the normal rhythm of this village. The photos were also being simultaneously transmitted from the laptop sitting between the two men up to a satellite and, from there, onward to SEAL HQ in Bagram.
Then, it was a waiting game to see if Bagram came back with hits on the men’s faces, to find out if any of them had Taliban allegiance. Even with the full beards each man sported, the system could not be fooled. Over the years, the weblike network of black ops groups taking photos of anyone potentially suspect had paid off. More than anything, Logan wanted to try and get a fix on Qader Khogani. Sweat ran down his temples. His whole damn uniform was damp. Chris had just hauled up another two gallons of clean water for them. They’d already shot through the first two in just half a day up on this roof.
Taking his binoculars, Logan slowly scanned the open desert land between the village and the hills to the east. They were soft, rounded dirt hills with scrub trees and large sprawls of bushes dotting them. He saw several other men with ladened donkeys crossing the area. The only fuel any of these villages had was firewood. The flatland and foothills, over the years, had been stripped bare. So, now, these men, who made a living selling firewood to the village wives for their cooking, were busy finding it on the already partially skinned slopes. It was an environmental disaster in his eyes: leaving the hills vulnerable to devastating erosion. When rain came, huge gullies, wadi in the local parlance, were carved out of the sand and rockiness of the area.
Logan could hear the rhythmic clang from the well-drilling site of casing being struck and driven into the ground. He swung his binoculars that way, hoping to catch sight of Jess. From their vantage point on the chieftain’s roof, only a part of the truck that did the heavy-duty work could be seen. The Navy Seabees were a damned hard-working group. He spotted LT Parker walking down the street that led directly to where the truck was located. By luck, he spotted Jess walking out to meet him. They stopped in view of his binoculars. Logan saw the dark splotches beneath the armpits of Jess’s work uniform: a long-sleeved light blue shirt, the cuffs rolled up to just below her elbows. Her black hair was in that perennial ponytail of hers between her shoulder blades. She wore a Kevlar vest, but Logan bet the chicken plate, the ceramic armored plates, were not in it. Hell, even SEALs took their Kevlar vests off when they were in sniper mode. They were just too damned heavy and hot to wear.
He smiled a little, watching her open a map between her and Parker. There was no doubt about her gestures toward the drill rig; she was in complete command. Logan smiled a little, feeling his heart swell with unfamiliar emotions. Parker seemed completely taken with her. Or, perhaps they had worked as a team for so long the officer/enlisted wall no longer stood between them. There was so much Logan wanted to know about her. He ached for some downtime to simply sit and talk with her, search her past, understand what made her the incredible woman she was. Maybe tonight…
It was dusk, and Jess had gone back to her mud home after having MREs with Chris and Logan. Leaving the door open, the only in-and-out flow of air, she took her pail of water that she’d put purification tablets in earlier, to wash her face, neck and arms. Desperate to get the grit off, she didn’t notice Logan’s approach until she saw him out through the hut’s door, standing right in front of her.
“Spit bath,” she told him with a grin, wiping her face dry with a small towel she had sitting next to the large metal bowl filled with water. It was the first time they had been alone today. He was in his work shirt, the sleeves pushed up to his elbows, and his cammies and combat boots. Logan always wore a drop holster on his right thigh, his Sig Sauer pistol in it.
“Know them well,” he murmured. He took a seat on a huge rock nearby. Just about everyone in the village used the big, smooth stones as stools outside their homes. He watched her wipe off her wet, gleaming arms. “Wish there was a shower around here.” He saw her lips twitch.
She replied, “I always think I’ll get used to this kind of living, but I never do. When I can get to Bagram, I run screaming to the women’s TDY, temporary duty, barracks, get assigned a room and then stand under a cold shower on a hot day and think I’ve died and gone to heaven.”
Nodding, Logan watched her graceful movements. Jess was tall, her limbs clean. He could see the muscles that had been developed by the nature of her hard work. “Chris and I are going to stay up on the roof tonight, so I’m not going to be around.”
“You’re getting a feel for the area,” Jess said, understanding. She saw Logan nod, his gaze on her. It felt good. “Just getting a few minutes with you now is a gift,” she murmured, hanging her towel on a nail she’d put into the edge of the wooden table. It had to dry somewhere.
“Come sit?” and Logan gestured to the rock about two feet from where he sat.
Jess came outside and sat down, absorbing his serious expression. “You said you were born in Cheyenne, Wyoming?”
“Yes.”
Logan savored her nearness. He inhaled her natural scent. The soap they used on duty was odorless so that the fragrance didn’t give their position away in close quarters.
Jess asked, “Tell me about your growing-up years?” and she met and held his shadowed gaze. The sunset in the west had turned from pink to orange under the clouds hanging over the peaks. Now, dusk was beginning in earnest.
“My dad worked as a wrangler on a big cattle ranch outside of Cheyenne. My mother is a CPA, certified public accountant. She keeps the books for the ranch.”
“ You grew up wild, too?” she teased, smiling a little, watching his own mouth move upward as well. Her lower body clenched. It was a mouth she wanted to kiss again.
“I did. One of my clearest childhood memories is of my dad sitting me on the back of his saddle, my arms around his waist. Riding with him when I was six.”
“You have cowboy genes.”
Logan shrugged, resting his elbows on his thighs, hands draped between his legs. “I guess I do. I learned how to repair fences, vaccinate cattle, rope, tie, and brand them. I learned to fish and hunt with my dad when I was eight. I grew up on venison, elk and trout.”
“Do you think that kind of a background helped you become a SEAL?”
He marveled yet again at Jess’s insightfulness. Her hair was loose, falling across her shoulders as she crossed her legs, arms resting on one knee as she observed him. “Yes, I do. My dad taught me tracking early on and that’s something I use, to this day, as a SEAL.”
“Are your parents still working on that ranch?”
“Yes. They own a small house near the main ranch complex.”
“And you got to grow up in one place,” she said, almost wistfully.
“Because your life is the exact opposite of mine? You were the tumbleweed?”
She smiled, drowning in his dark gaze. Jess swore she could feel his protection surrounding her. It was invisible, but it was there. She ached to kiss Logan, and she could see the same desire burning in his eyes at well. Anyone passing by would see them chatting outdoors; something that happened all the time between the Americans, and no one would think anything of it. Which was the way Jess wanted it. “You already know I was born in Cape Town, South Africa. From there, the Navy sent my parents to South America, Bolivia. The Seabees were taking part in a village well-drilling initiative. I don’t remember much about that. I remember much more clearly when I was six or so, being back in Africa, running around, playing, picking up the local dialects.” She smiled fondly. “I really did have a wild, free upbringing.”
“Do you regret it?”
“Never.” Jess sighed and straightened, gesturing to the surrounding village. “I’ve seen so many places on this earth, Logan, that are so desperate for fresh well water. My parents instilled in me that those who have much, should share with those who have so little.”
“Is that why I saw you earlier today handing out candy to the kids?” He saw her blush, her mouth softening. He wanted to kiss her, hold her, feel her soft, firm strength against him once more.
“The kids have me well trained,” Jess laughed. “They know I always have a stash of candy in my house. I learned early on to meet them in the center of the village at a specific time. The boys are nasty to the little girls because it’s just such a damn patriarchal culture. If I gave the girls all their candy first, the boys would attack them, grab it out of their hands. If the little girls fought back, the boys would beat them up, even bloody their noses. It was awful.”
“Yeah, it sucks,” Logan agreed quietly, seeing the sadness in her eyes. “I watched how you dealt with it today: girl, boy, by turn.”
She sighed. “It’s the only way. My heart aches for these girls and women, Logan. They’re so repressed by the Muslim religion in Afghanistan. They don’t even live half a life.”
“You’re doing what you can,” he told her, holding her pained gaze. “You’re a role model out here to them. You do realize that? A woman working beside men? An equal? Respected?”
“Yeah,” Jess muttered. “On some days, good days, I see that. On others, I come here at night, shut the door and cry for them.”
Logan felt her pain. “It has to be especially hard on you, Jess. You’ve always been treated as an equal in the service. I don’t think anyone ever told you that you couldn’t do something if you set your mind to it?” He saw a faint smile cross her mouth.
“My parents gave me the freedom to learn who I was. I owe them so much for that. When I see how a lot of little girls around the world are treated, it makes my heart ache for them. I was lucky. Really lucky.”
“I think you’re a prototype for generations of women to come,” Logan said. Jess shrugged, giving him an embarrassed look.
“Oh, I don’t think so. I grew up with two parents who had the earth in their hands. I grew up loving the land, seeing it differently, seeing how it could work in concert with the people who lived on top of it. How to take care of it.”
Logan studied her as the dusk grew deeper. He heard the bleat of the goats now being crowded into their main corral of rocks and mud for the night. At least the damned roosters were quiet, already asleep in the near darkness. “What are your dreams, Jess?” He watched her expression carefully, almost holding his breath. He so wanted to be a part of her life. She might not fully know that, at least not yet. Her mouth moved into a wry position.
“You’ll laugh.”
“No, I’d never laugh at you.”
She rubbed her hands slowly up and down her thighs. “My answer is coming from my dreamer and romantic, idealistic side,” she warned him, giving him an amused glance. “Maybe because I never really had a home, an anchor in my life, I’ve always wished for a home of my own. Some place I wouldn’t have to move from. A place where I could plant flowers, like colorful poppies, some Iris in the spring to come up and bloom. And, believe it or not, I love to cook.” She held up her long, spare hands. “I have this thing about spices. I’ve collected jars of them all over the globe. I love the different fragrances of each of them. I got lost in this spice bar in Egypt once. I’ve spent half a day in another spice bar in Istanbul.”
“Where do you want to build that dream house of yours?”
“Oh, you’re going to feed my fantasies?” Jess teased, grinning, falling into his warm gaze, feeling he genuinely cared about her dreams.
“Why not? It’s about getting to know the different sides of you.” Logan was absorbing her quiet husky voice, absorbing her dreams, fascinated to find out more about her.
“I love the ocean,” she admitted. “If I could choose anywhere, it would be San Diego, California. Maybe near La Jolla, north of the city. There’s a seal colony there, pelicans, fur seals… lots of wildlife…”
“And your house? What would it look like?”
“I would buy a piece of land not far from the Pacific. I know how expensive it is, Logan, and I certainly don’t have the money for it, but since we’re talking of dreams,” and she smiled over at him, “it would be made of silvered cedar because I love the touch of wood. And huge glass windows that overlook the ocean so I could see the sunset every night, see the colors…”
“And what would you do for a living if you weren’t in the Navy, then?”
“My parents have a small construction company and live in San Diego. They’ve often urged me to quit and not put in my twenty years with the Navy. They worry about me being over here in the Middle East. When they were in the Navy, being a Seabee, doing good deeds for the poor, was a much safer job.” Her brows fell. “It’s not safe anymore and my parents know that. I don’t like them to worry about me and I know they do. I’m torn.”
“But, if you quit,” Logan pressed, “you’d work with them?”
Nodding, she said, “My parents own a very profitable company. They want me to, someday, take it over so they can retire.”
“Is that your dream or theirs?”
Jess glanced at his serious demeanor, her skin riffling beneath Logan’s roughened tone, almost a low, animal growl. “She opened her hands, “I could live in ONE PLACE, Logan. I know it doesn’t sound very important to you, but it is to me. I guess,” and her voice fell and Jess shook her head, “I dream of settling down. Finding someone who will love me, warts and all….”
“Children?” Logan wondered, seeing the longing in her face, hearing it in her voice.
“Yes. Two or three kids. I grew up as an only child. I remember being jealous of the large families in Bolivia, and in Africa, and I wondered what it would be like to have sisters and brothers.”
“You want family.” Logan felt his heart swell in his chest. He could envision Jess as a mother. She would give her children the freedom she’d had growing up. Smiling to himself, he knew she’d be a fantastic parent. Just watching her with the children today, had made him ache for her. Jess was unselfish, sensitive to the plight of others, wanting to make this planet a better place to live for everyone. There was nothing but admiration and respect for her in his heart. Never mind she was drop dead gorgeous, and had one of the most sensitive, hot bodies he’d ever encountered. Yeah, she was an earth goddess, no question and Logan liked that idea: A woman of the earth: sensual, real, honest and unafraid to be who she was.
“Family? Yeah, I do,” Jess admitted. “But I’m twenty-eight. I won’t marry and have children and leave them behind if I have to go on a deployment overseas. It just leaves me cold, Logan. I want to be there with my husband, with my children. I want to see them grow up, celebrate the important moments in their lives.” She laughed softly, giving him a wry glance. “See? I warned you that I was a soppy romantic idealist.”
“And don’t you dare ever stop being one,” Logan said. Because he saw himself as that man in her idealistic life. Saw her carrying his children in that soft, rounded belly of hers. There was such a powerful, primal response in his heart and soul that it left Logan stunned. He’d never thought about a second marriage. Many of his SEAL friends had gotten married, only to see their lives torn apart like his had been. Being a SEAL wasn’t conducive to making a marriage work. He’d tried his level best to make it work with Maryann, but she couldn’t handle his long deployments, his time away from her. In the end, Logan had never blamed her. He understood. And, as he absorbed Jess’s profile, the need for her in his heart grew. He wasn’t a romantic. Logan knew, even though he was falling in love with Jess, that in the long term, it would never work. And that hurt worst of all. A SEAL life was an anti-marriage machine, no question.