Nine Marines' Shared Property - Nicole Casey Page 0,42

rubbed the sleep from my eyes. “Let me jump in the shower and get changed.”

“I’ll meet you outside in twenty minutes,” he said.

“Make it ten.”

We walked quickly to the hotel, not only because we were both in a hurry to see Gwen, but also because on that early November night, it was rather cold.

“Did you text her?” I asked.

“Yeah, an hour ago and also ten minutes ago.”

“And?”

“No reply.”

I slowed my pace. “You don’t think Elijah and J.P. could still be there?”

Travis shook his head. “No. I talked to Elijah. They left at around nine thirty.”

“Hmm.” I rubbed my chin.

“She’s probably asleep,” said Travis.

I blew on my hands. “And we’re just going to go there and wake her up?”

“Yep.” Travis seemed unphased. Then again, he had no problem waking me up.

“Poor girl,” I said. “She’s going to be a wreck tomorrow.”

The hotel came into view, and I stopped. “Maybe we shouldn’t go. Maybe we should let her sleep.”

“Are you crazy?” said Travis.

“I’m just trying to think about what she’d want.”

“So am I,” said Travis. “And I don’t think she’d appreciate being stood up.”

I wasn’t so sure. “You’re probably right.”

“Probably?”

I wished I’d had Travis’s confidence. I wished I knew exactly what Gwen wanted. He was right, though, standing her up would have been bad. But wearing her out couldn’t be good either. I put that concern on my growing list of things to talk about with Gwen.

“Come on,” said Travis, and he picked up his pace to a near jog. I followed suit.

We arrived at the hotel and took a moment to compose ourselves. “How do I look?” asked Travis.

“Like a man on a mission,” I said.

“Like a good-looking man on a mission?”

I shook my head. “I don’t know. You look fine, I guess.”

Travis frowned. He reached for the door then turned to me and said, “You know, this is probably the last time we’ll see her.”

“The last time we see her, until we get back from deployment,” I corrected, but it came out as more of a question than a statement of fact.

The receptionist greeted us with a nod of the head. I gave him a salute, and we headed for the stairs. The hotel was so silent and still—which wasn’t surprising; it was past one o’clock in the morning. We reached her door and stood there a moment. I waited for Travis to knock, and he presumably waited for me to do the same. I whispered to him, “Maybe we should call her.”

He twisted his mouth into a frown and knocked on the door.

A long moment later, he knocked again but louder.

I heard the shuffling of footsteps then the door cracked open. Gwen’s sleepy eyes squinted at us from between the crack. She wiped her eyes then smiled, opened the door and stepped to the side.

“Good morning, Gwen.” I gave her a kiss and entered.

“Morning?”

“Hello Gwen.” Travis gave her a kiss and entered.

“Did we wake you?” I asked.

She shuffled back to the bed and collapsed, face first onto it.

I chuckled, looked at Travis and said, “I’ll take that as a yes.” I went to her and touched her lightly on the shoulder. “I’m sorry we woke you. We would have come sooner, but we figured you were busy.”

She mumbled into the sheets, “But I’m not busy now.”

Travis chuckled. He undressed, folded his clothes and set them on the table beside the window.

I wasn’t as patient. But I was still sleepy from my interrupted nap, so I kicked off my shoes and crawled into bed beside her. She rolled over and kissed me on the forehead.

“Take your clothes off,” she said. “Make yourself comfortable.”

I, reluctantly, pulled myself off the bed. While I undressed, Travis slipped into the bed. He lay on his back, hands locked behind his head, looking up at the ceiling. Gwen nestled her head against his shoulder, wrapped her leg around his and laid her hand on his chest.

I stood there a long moment looking at them. They appeared so peaceful, so content. However, there was a wide empty space beside Gwen. I smiled and slipped into bed, nestled my body against hers, my hand on her shoulder and her head snug under my chin.

Travis and I, we both needed to wake up at five thirty, and we both needed to get our sleep—Gwen, too. So we didn’t do anything more than lie with her, holding her, matching the rise and fall of our chest to hers.

“It feels so good to lie with you,” I murmured.

She murmured something