Chapter 38
Thirty-Eight
Igot my period the next morning.
Even though the pregnancy test had been negative, getting confirmation was still a huge relief.
It also had me thinking about Marc and the program and what could happen.
There was more than a fifty percent chance that he was fertile, which meant that if things continued like this – and I had no desire to stop them – I could very well get pregnant with his baby.
It was something I hadn’t let myself think about before crossing that line, mostly because I’d wanted to focus on my actions and not the consequences, but it was a reality I couldn’t ignore forever.
Bette didn’t answer the door when I knocked, so I headed down to breakfast without her.
Marc was once again in the dining room, which had me wondering if he’d swapped shifts so he could see me, and I made a mental note to ask him when we met later.
Because I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that we would meet.
In the absence of Bette, I ate alone. I hadn’t really made any other connections since being here, although I did have a few acquaintances.
Women I knew by name and made small talk with.
Then there was Malika, who I would almost call a friend, but who, like me, seemed to want to keep to herself.
That was all, though, and it was fine. I wasn’t a very social person, and Bette had been enough to start with, then Marc had come into my life. They were all I needed.
After eating, I reported for cleanup duty, but immediately noticed Vic was once again missing.
I wondered if they’d found out they were fertile and were at the clinic, or possibly even pregnant already and sick.
We didn’t talk about the program, the topic was too depressing, but I suddenly wished we had.
If for no other reason than to reassure myself that their absence was nothing to worry about.
Despite typically going out of my way to avoid Minder Jane, I let my curiosity get the better of me halfway through cleanup and asked her about it.
“Vic?” she said, repeating the name like she’d never heard it. “Oh. You mean Victoria. She’s under the weather today.”
I ground my teeth at Jane’s intentional use of the wrong pronoun but chose not to bring it up. There was no point because she wouldn’t listen, and the woman already hated me. I was pretty sure she and Hilary got together every night to drink wine and bitch about how awful I was.
Jane waved to the pile of dirty dishes I’d been loading. “I suggest you focus on your work instead of other people, Miss Murphy. What’s going on with Victoria is really none of your concern.”
Again, I had to bite my tongue. I really despised this woman.
Like the day before, Marc found me in the kitchen at the end of my shift. Unfortunately, Jane was hanging around, for some annoying reason, and I wasn’t alone, so I kept my head down and my focus on my work.
“Is there something you need, Corporal Ramirez?” Jane asked.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him look around as if searching for something, then direct his most charming smile toward my minder. “I was hoping to grab a cup of coffee.”
Not at all disarmed by his dimpled grin, Jane frowned. “Don’t the soldiers have coffee in their break room?”
“We do,” Marc said, trying to sound sheepish, “but the guys make it, and it usually either tastes like tar or burnt water. Not like what you make.” As if letting my minder in on a secret, Marc leaned closer and in a low voice said, “The coffee is why I keep trading shifts so I’m on breakfast duty.”
For the first time since arriving at the Stanley, Jane actually smiled. The sight was so shocking that I froze in the middle of wiping the counters. I really hadn’t thought she was capable of such an action.
“Well, that’s no good, is it? We can’t have our brave soldiers suffering like that!” She suddenly sounded like a flirty teenager, which made me want to hurl. “Lucky for you, we keep the coffee going all day, and I just made a fresh pot.”
Marc beamed. “That is lucky.”
Jane’s smile grew impossibly big, and she didn’t take her eyes off him when she said, “Arabella, why don’t you grab the corporal a cup of coffee?”
I wasn’t her errand girl, and had the coffee been for anyone else, I would have been pissed.
But since it was Marc and I knew he was only asking so he had an excuse to see me, I was thrilled.
I did my best to tamp down my excitement, though, as I set down the dishcloth I’d been using and moved to the stacks of clean mugs.
Behind me, Jane continued to chat with Marc.
“Where are you from, Corporal?”
“Here and there,” he said, his tone light. “I’ve moved around since enlisting nine years ago, between training and different assignments. I’m originally from California but have been stationed in Ohio for the past couple years.”
“Ohio? So far away from home, you poor thing! I hope you didn’t have to leave too many family members behind,” Jane said, showing more sympathy for his plight than she’d ever shown any of the women in the program. “I know how difficult that can be.”
“Just my mom,” he said, “but she’s doing well, and we’ve been able to talk every day.”
Every day? It made me sick when I thought about how cut off the women in the program were. It wasn’t fair. Not that any of this ever had been.
Jane continued asking Marc questions, and I listened to their conversation as I filled the mug, grinding my teeth and silently begging my minder to go the hell away. Seriously, she never hung around this long after cleanup. What was she doing?
When the mug was full, I headed back over, doing my best to be nonchalant as I held it out. “Here you go.”
“Thanks, Arabella.”
The smile Marc gave me was no more friendly than the one he’d offered Jane, but the expression in his eyes was very different.
He took the mug, his fingers brushing mine, and it was like an electric current moving through me, only in a good way.
It sent tingles shooting up my arm and through my body, made my heart skip a beat, and I had to work doubly hard to keep my expression neutral.
After a few seconds, Marc looked at the cup and frowned. When he was once again looking at me, he had a sheepish smile on his face that reminded me of a kid who’d been caught doing something wrong. He was a good actor.
“I should have asked for creamer to begin with. Sorry.”
Jane, who was now thoroughly under his spell, grinned. “No worries!” She looked at her wristband, frowned, then focused on me. “Can you get it for him before you finish up, Arabella? I have an appointment to get to.”
“I guess so,” I said, trying to sound put out.
When I headed for the refrigerator at the back of the kitchen, Jane sighed and said, “I swear, some of these girls have such an attitude problem. You’d think they’d be grateful for everything the Department of Fertility was doing for them.
” She lowered her voice but not enough that I couldn’t hear when she whispered, “She’s one of the worst.”
I curled my hands into fists, wishing I could show her just how bad my attitude could get and punch her in her stupid face.
“It’s a difficult time,” Marc replied. “Not everyone handles stress well.”
“Yes, well,” Jane sniffed, and then as if not sure what else to say, replied, “I’ll see you tomorrow, Corporal Ramirez.”
“I’ll be here,” he said in a jovial tone.
Footsteps thudded against the tile floor, fading as Jane put space between herself and us. A few seconds later, heavier ones headed my way.
Not even bothering to open the fridge, I turned around.
Marc was walking toward me, his steps sure, his gaze on mine.
He set his mug on the counter when he reached me, then swept me into his arms, kissing me like we’d been apart for weeks instead of only a few hours.
It made my knees weak, made my legs tremble so much that I was pretty sure they would have given out if Marc hadn’t pinned me against the fridge.
His kisses were hungry, possessive, like he was trying to devour me, and wanting to be closer to him, I lifted myself on the tips of my toes. He hoisted me up, his hands gripping my ass as I wrapped my legs around his waist, and I could feel every inch of him. It made me dizzy with desire.
Somehow, despite the fog clouding my brain and the urgent need to be in this man’s arms, I registered the sound of voices coming from the other room. This was dangerous. Stupid. Too risky.
“Marc,” I gasped, pulling back. “We can’t. Not here.”
He closed his eyes and exhaled.
A second later, he lowered me to the ground. My legs were still wobbly, and my heart was thudding like mad, and part of me wanted to grab him and pull him into the janitor’s closet again, but instead I forced myself to turn away. We had to be smart about this.
Marc was still so close I could feel his body heat and hear every breath he let out, which made images from the night before come rushing back, so I distracted myself by retrieving the creamer.
The cool air that swept over me when I opened the fridge wasn’t quite the equivalent of a cold shower, but it helped me calm down a little.
Marc was grinning when I turned to face him.
“What?” I asked as I passed him the creamer.
“Nothing.” He took it, shrugging. “Just happy.”
Despite myself, I flushed. “Really?”
“Yeah.” Marc’s smile widened as he poured creamer into his coffee, deepening the dimple in his left cheek. “I had a good night.”
“Is that so?” I teased. “And what made it so great?”
He flicked the creamer closed and set it on the counter, then turned to face me, mug cupped in his hands like he was trying to warm them. His brown eyes were sparkling, making him look younger. And cuter. God, I liked this man. So much.
“Well,” he said, leaning closer, his voice low, “I got laid, for one. And let me tell you, she was hot.”