29
Rowan
Jarhead
“I’m sorry, did I just hear you say I would be staying with you?” demanded Vivian as soon as the door clicked shut. She stood up and turned to face him. He was conscious of how tiny and fragile she seemed on the outside, yet so vibrantly alive—like an eggshell around a dragon.
“Yes. You can’t go back to your apartment.”
He was also very, very aware of how close he had come to losing her.
“You haven’t even apologized. I don’t care how wounded and heroic you are—I am going home. Alone. Without you.” Vivian poked him in the chest, and he leaned into it. She got confused, and her hand flattened out until it rested on his heart.
It was nice that she thought he was heroic. He wasn’t sure about wounded. But he specifically did not like the without you part.
“I would like to apologize,” said Rowan. “I keep trying to apologize, but we keep getting interrupted. But whether I apologize or not, you are still not going to your apartment.”
She gaped at him and instantly removed her hand. It was never a good sign when she was speechless because if he’d learned anything about Vivian, it was that she would rally, and then he was in for it.
“You said I was a lost cause, and I panicked,” Rowan continued, which wasn’t a great explanation, but it was the truth, and at least he got it out there before she came back with something.
“Well, you said my event was great, and I was just the assistant you were fucking!” She tossed the chocolate bars down in a fury.
“I…” Rowan could see that she was genuinely angry, but he still felt lost. “I never said that.”
“You were texting Forest, and you said he didn’t need advice from me.”
“I don’t… I never said fucking. If I said anything, it was dating. And I also apologize for that.”
Rowan rubbed his head. Why was there an entire list of things to apologize for? How had he managed to pack so much stupidity into one conversation?
“I was worrying about Olly, and I spoke out of turn. At least Grant said he’d look at the papers and that no one could take Olly away without a fight in court.”
“You talked to Grant?”
“No, I texted Forest to text Grant, and he did.”
“So, after you said you didn’t need my advice, you took my advice?” demanded Vivian icily.
“Yes, because it was good advice. I should have listened to you. But I don’t know what is wrong with saying the event was great.”
“You didn’t mean it! You thought it was lame. Belinda was actually talking it up, and you thought it was lame.”
“No, I thought she was lame. I thought the event was great. I didn’t get how much went into it until I got here.”
“Then why did you call me a child who didn’t understand adult responsibilities?” she demanded, her voice rising angrily.
“You said I was a lost cause!” He yelled and tried to wave his injured arm, winced, and grabbed the back of the chair with his good hand.
Vivian took an urgent step forward, tears sparkling in her eyes. “What do I do? Should I get Jake?”
“I’m fine. I just need a couple of stitches. It’s fine.”
“It’s not fine!” Her hands started to shake, and she reached out for him as if unsure what she was supposed to touch. Her hand came to rest on his chest again, and he covered it with his good hand.
“Baby, I’m fine. I’m all right. The medic wouldn’t have left me if I wasn’t.”
Her eyes were huge and her breath was coming too quickly. Planning an entire gala, getting shot at, yelling at cops, nothing made his girl panic except him getting hurt. He needed her to refocus.
“Vivian, I understand that you’re mad, and you have every reason to be.”
“Yes, I do,” she snapped, eyes going to his face. That had worked.
“I don’t have an excuse. Also, Marines don’t give excuses. It was just... You said I was a lost cause, which is what Melissa said on her way out the door. And you keep not telling people we’re dating. All I could see was us ending, and I said some stupid shit to try to...”
“Try to what? Hurt me?” she demanded.
“Yes,” he admitted. “So you would hurt me less. Only the second it was out of my mouth, I realized I was stupid.”
“Who is Melissa?” she asked sourly.
“My ex. We lived together for two years. Technically. I was out of the country a lot. She left because I was too much of a Marine.”
“What’s wrong with Marines?” Vivian looked offended on behalf of an entire branch of the military, and Rowan tried not to laugh. He rubbed his face tiredly and shoved at his hair.
“I don’t know. Also, I didn’t want kids, so she said I was a lost cause.”
“You don’t want kids?” Vivian looked disappointed. It was like all the filters were off her face. He supposed getting shot at had that effect. He was also surprised to find out that he wanted kids more than he thought he had.
“I want kids now. But I didn’t want them while I was deployed. I want to have kids when I’m here to parent them.” With her. He wanted kids with Vivian.
“Oh. That’s reasonable,” said Vivian, with a shrug. “But who says someone is a lost cause just because your timing doesn’t align? I raise my eyebrows at this girl.”
Her eyes narrowed at the specter of his ex. Then she looked up at him as if remembering they were still in the middle of a fight.
“I wanted to take it back right then,” he said. “Only there were people and talking and bullets. This is not going well. I supposed to make a better speech.” He tried to push his hair off his face. It suddenly felt way too long. It practically touched his ears on the sides. He needed a haircut.
“This isn’t even a speech. It’s just you saying I can’t go home and telling me about your shitty ex.”
“She was shitty, and you absolutely cannot go back to your apartment,” he said, reverting to the facts he felt confident in.
“It’s my apartment,” said Vivian in exasperation. “Where else am I supposed to go?”
“Like I said, you’ll go to my place.”
“You can’t just declare that I’m going to your place.”
“Just did. So, yes,” said Rowan.
“No!”
“Yes!”
Rowan looked down into her beautiful gray eyes and felt like he was back on the Land Nav course with half a map, one compass, and the sneaking conviction that one of them upside down.
“I love you,” he blurted out.
“What?”
“I don’t want you to get hurt. Whoever did this knew where you and Howard would be. I’m not letting you go back to your apartment or work until I’ve caught them.”
Vivian stared at him for a long moment then took a deep breath, grabbed him by the tie, and yanked his face down until he was eye-to-eye with her.
“Did you just tell me you loved me?” she demanded in a whisper.
“Yes,” he whispered back.
“And then follow it up with a bunch of bullshit?”
“Yes,” he agreed. “What should I have followed it up with?”
“Kisses, you dumb jarhead.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
He crooked his finger under her chin, tilted it to his preferred angle, and brushed his lips across hers.
He hadn’t known until that moment that the world was wrong, but the moment their lips met, it was like having a bone pushed back into alignment—everything clicked, and his universe started spinning again.
There was a knock on the door, and then it opened without waiting for an invitation.
“Hey, boss,” said Hot Lips. “OK, nope, we’re fine. I’m leaving.”
“Hot Lips is here, boss,” said Jake, looking in.
“But I’m leaving.”
Jake looked at Hot Lips in confusion. “No, Tyrique said the nurse said he needed stitches.”
“But Rowan needs some more… time.” Hot Lips glared at Jake, trying to will him into getting the hint. Rowan sighed, and Vivian snorted softly in amusement.
“Vivian, this is Conner Houlihan, our medic.”
Vivian gave the Conner the once over. Conner was an unassuming kid about Vivian’s age in jeans and a Valkyrie Security polo shirt.
“You do realize that Hot Lips is pejorative and slut shaming?” asked Vivian drily.
“He is a medic, and his last name is Houlihan! We had no choice!” said Rowan.
“It’s OK, ma’am,” said Hot Lips. “M.A.S.H. was a re-run favorite at our house, and by the end of the series, they’d reclaimed the name. Margaret Houlihan was an independent woman who was not ashamed of having sex. I don’t mind being named after her.”
“I will accept that answer,” said Vivian.
“There was a series called M.A.S.H. – like the Mobile Army Surgical Hospitals?” asked Jake.
“I am so old,” said Rowan.
“Not too old to get shot, apparently,” said Hot Lips, plunking down his bag. “Jacket off, sir. Let’s see what we got.” Then he stopped and looked at Vivian. “Unless you need him for more important stuff?”
“No, I think I would rather Rowan stopped bleeding on things,” said Vivian, reaching up to help him remove his jacket.
“That is what I’m here for,” said Hot Lips.
“And then we’re going home,” said Rowan. “Assuming the police release us.”
“I don’t think I can go home until everyone else does,” said Vivian.
“Baby,” began Rowan.
“No, I’m serious. I’m in charge of this shindig, and as long as my people have to stay, I’m staying.”
“We’ll see what Chappie says,” said Rowan, feeling confident that Father Fred would agree with him.
“Don’t think you can use Chappie against me,” said Vivian. “He’s on my side.”
Rowan was fully confident that Father Fred was on Vivian’s side, which was also why he felt certain that Father Fred would agree with Rowan. The Chaplain would want to protect Vivian.
“I think the police detective was starting to send people home when I came in,” said Hot Lips as he unzipped his bag and pulled out a pair of scissors.
“Your shirt is covered in blood,” said Vivian, staring at his sleeve.
“Blood always goes everywhere,” said Rowan, reassuringly. “It always looks worse than it is.” He didn’t want to add that some of it was Howard’s blood.
“Ma’am,” said Hot Lips, looking around in a show of searching for something. “I don’t suppose you could go find me some hot water?”
“Yes, of course,” said Vivian. “How much?”
“Two liters,” said Hot Lips.
“OK,” said Vivian, looking back at Rowan, worry all over her face.
“I’m fine,” said Rowan, for what felt like the hundredth time.
“OK. I’ll be right back.”
She looked down at the chair and then grabbed her chocolate bars, which made him smile. She glared at him before hurrying from the room. Rowan looked at Hot Lips.
“You don’t really need hot water, do you?”
“Nope. And no one ever needs hot water when they send expectant fathers out of the room either.”
“Yeah, well, the joke’s on you. Chances are she’ll delegate that action and be back in twenty seconds.”
“Chances are that the eight people who tried to give me messages for Vivian will want to talk to her first,” said Hot Lips, cutting off Rowan’s shirt sleeve. “Getting her out of here is going to be difficult.”
Rowan sighed. “Well, you heard her. She’s in charge of this shindig.”
Hot Lips chuckled. “You couldn’t pick out a grunt. You had to get yourself a general.”
“Marines aim for the top,” said Rowan, thinking that he would carry his general out by force if necessary.