Nine Marines' Shared Property - Nicole Casey Page 0,25

sleaze in Michael?”

I thought about it. Had I always suspected? Was I just lying to myself because the sex was so good?

“We were together for almost three years,” I said. “I only found out after we broke up that he’d been cheating on me the whole time.”

“Men!” said Holly angrily. “I bet he didn’t even have a new sports car or work in a fancy firm.”

I chuckled. “Nope. He drove a clunker and he worked at a bar.”

“How’d he score a catch like you, then?”

I shrugged. “He had his qualities. And it was a fancy bar. Tree Top, you ever heard of it?”

Holly shook her head no.

“Well, next time you’re in Los Angeles, you should check it out.”

I will.

“And if a tall blond with sparkling blue eyes is behind the bar, promise me you won’t let him try to charm you.”

“I promise I won’t,” said Holly. “But that promise is valid for Los Angeles only!”

11

Axel

I had become addicted to cinnamon rolls and coffee. Either that, or I couldn’t let more than three days go by without seeing Gwen—though the two weren’t necessarily mutually exclusive. I was busy, but I could find the time for my fix by skipping lunch and jogging to the cafe. At least, that way I didn’t have to worry so much about the calories from the cinnamon roll.

Sometimes Manny would come with me; sometimes Nolan; sometimes we went all three of us. But we could never stay long.

“You’re such a tease,” Gwen would say.

“But you’re the one with the hot ass,” I replied. “And the one who’s flaunting freshly baked cinnamon rolls!”

She put her hand on my chest, her fingers lightly touching my quivering skin. “Yeah, but you get to have those cinnamon rolls. When am I going to get to have you?”

“It won’t be long,” I promised. “Hang in there.”

“Tease,” she said, and she sauntered off.

I had Travis send her a text: ‘We’re being punished for our poor performance in morning drills following our night together. How does it feel knowing the US Military has had to take extra precautions to keep its Marines safe from your hot body?”

Her response: ‘I think the Marines in question should treat these ‘precautions’ as an obstacle, an obstacle they will overcome.’

I had a word with both Travis and Santiago. “I can’t tell if she’s just kidding around or if she’s genuinely impatient.”

“Sounds like a bit of both,” said Travis. And Santiago agreed.

“What are we going to do?” I asked.

“We’re Marines,” said Santiago. “We’re going to overcome.”

We had a meeting to talk about Gwen—as we did almost every night. But this night was different: a little less dreams and fantasy, and a little more practical reality and urgency. We were in agreement: Gwen’s texts expressed a certain degree of genuine impatience. We were in agreement: we were all experiencing degrees of genuine impatience. Just when things were starting to heat up, our jobs and our duties were keeping us from taking things to the next level. We had a potential problem surfacing, so instead of talking about how great she was and the things we would do together once we’d finished our deployment, we talked about the here and now; we talked about practical actions we could take immediately.

Unorthodox problems require unorthodox solutions.

Travis sent Gwen a text: ‘Have you ever wanted to be a mail-order bride?’

Gwen’s response: ‘?’

Travis sent Gwen another text: ‘Let me rephrase that. We’ve booked you a room at the Marina Hotel for the 15th. Be there at 2 pm.’

Travis’s follow-up text: ‘btw, it’s going to be a long day and a longer night.’

Three days after our meeting and after sending her our invitation, Gwen had still not confirmed. In fact, her texts didn’t say much of anything: ‘Doing well.’ ‘Nothing special.’ I went from feeling anxious and impatient to feeling worried.

I skipped lunch and jogged down to The Bean Counter.

Jenny waved to me from the terrace as I approached. I waved back, and she disappeared into the cafe.

A moment later, I arrived, and Gwen came out to greet me.

“Hi Gwen.” I gave her a kiss. “How’s it going?”

She took my hand. “Shall we go for a walk?”

I frowned and shook my head. “I’m afraid I don’t have time. I just came by to say hi. I have to jog back to the base before I’m missed.”

She was visibly disappointed, and I felt bad.

“But this Thursday,” I said, “at the Marina Hotel.”

“Yeah, what’s that about?”

“The hotel is right next to the base. We’ll be able to