What Part of Marine Don't You Understand - By Heather Long Page 0,9
enter. His heart rate picked up and his breathing grew shallow. Jethro whimpered and crawled across the sofa and pushed his way into Matt’s lap.
Hugging the dog, he chuckled. “Yeah, maybe not ready for that yet, huh?”
Jethro licked his face and they settled together to watch the game, but he didn’t close the laptop or the browser window.
He really wanted to ask Naomi out on that date.
***
Five songs written and she had a theme. She was scoring an album about Marines. And it had nothing to do with the beautiful blond who ‘happened’ along every time she sat outside composing. Of course, I’m not going out there every day to see him either. Unfortunately, steady rainfall trapped her inside for the day. The constant spatter against the window offered an interesting juxtaposition to the song she worked on.
Her cell phone rang and she checked the incoming caller ID. Hitting answer with one finger, she chose the speakerphone option. “Hello, Charlie, you are live with a dedicated audience of one.” She grinned at her own cleverness.
“Bratling, why aren’t you with Mom in Canada?” The second of four brothers, Charlie was the Batman to her Robin.
“Because it’s cold as hell up there, and I didn’t feel like meeting all of Aunt Josie’s eligible, but completely underwhelming, brood of possible dates.” She’d made that mistake right after college. Her mother spent six weeks with her sister every year and for the last four, Josie seemed to have made it her mission to marry Naomi off.
Charlie laughed. “I dunno, I thought the botanist had potential.”
“If I were a butterfly, he would have stuck it to me every day. Other than that, I don’t think he realized I was even alive.” She suppressed a shudder and leaned forward to add a notation to the last bridge of music.
“Nice. Brent said you were in Texas. What’s in Texas?”
“Mike’s Place—the recovery center? I came down to do a report for Congressman Lazy Bones, and it’s pretty damn inspiring. They let me take an apartment for as long as they don’t need it for a real person. I’m trying to score this album. What’s up?”
“You’re really going to do it then? Release an album?”
“No, I’m going to record one. Regina Records is fronting the studio time and a producer so I can record it.” Her stomach erupted with nerves every time she thought about it. Dreaming of getting her songs out there and being heard on the radio had long been reserved for wishful thinking. If her dream actually happened—she had no idea what she would do.
“You’re going to be great, brat, you don’t know how to be anything else.”
Pride flooded her at the encouragement. “Thanks, Charlie. Let me ask you something—”
“No, you cannot have my Mustang. When I get home, I want it in one piece.”
She stuck her tongue out though he couldn’t see her. “I don’t want your stinky, old Mustang.” Such a lie, the ’66 hard body classic was to die for, but she couldn’t let him tweak her without returning a volley.
“Well all right then, what do you want?”
“What would you say if I met a Marine that I actually liked?”
“I’d ask why the hell you don’t like the rest of us?” The playful retort was the verbal equivalent of tugging her braids when they were kids.
“No, I mean, like…liked. The I-wouldn’t-mind-dating kind of like.” She held her breath waiting for his reaction. Her brothers backed her father up when it came to the no-dating-on-base rule, and since she lived on base most of the time, it really limited her dating pool. Sure, she experimented in college, who hadn’t—but not with any Marines. There had been the Navy Corpsman, but what her family didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her.
“Hmm, what unit is he in?” The silky question made her laugh.
“No, you don’t get to beat him up. He doesn’t even know I like him, like I said, I’m just…curious.”
“Curious enough that you’re bringing it up to the one brother over three thousand miles away in Afghanistan. I see how you are.”
“True. And you like my care packages, so you’ll keep my secret.”
“Five boxes of Girl Scout Thin Mints and you’re on.”
“That’s blackmail.”
“Cost of doing business, sis. Besides I’m supposed to check in with Dad tomorrow morning. I could just mention to him….”
“Fine. Done.” But she grinned. Where the hell do I find Girl Scout Thin Mints in the summertime? She’d figure it out.
“Seriously though, trust your instincts, Nay. You have good ones. You like him,