Drill Me, Sergeant Page 5

  Chapter Eight

  December happens and I barely notice. My parents invite me to spend a week with them, but for the first time in my life, I tell them I’d rather stay home. I haven’t been feeling very well and all the travel and excitement sounds exhausting. Last week, I bought myself a little tree and decorated it with a few cheap decorations. For some reason, I cried when I hung the last little red ball from a branch and I’m still now sure if it was because the thing is so pretty or because I’m going to spend my first Christmas alone.

  Shaking my head at myself, I grab a pint of ice cream from the freezer and curl up on the couch, wrapping a blanket over my legs. When I reach across my chest to put my phone on the armrest—Colt is going to call in the next half hour—my breast aches from the pressure. Great. I’m going to be on my period over Christmas.

  And then, just like that, my thoughts line up all in a row, little soldiers standing at attention, pieces of the puzzle falling into place. I shouldn’t have my period over Christmas. I should have had it two weeks ago. I sit up, mouth falling open.

  I’m not sick, I’m pregnant.

  I’m not crying because the tree is so beautiful, I’m crying because I’m pregnant.

  My breasts don’t ache because my period is coming, my breasts ache because…

  I’m pregnant.

  I know I shouldn’t jump to conclusions until I’ve taken a test, but there’s no way that test is going to say anything but ‘hey dipshit! You had sex without a condom and now you’re going to have a baby!’ I press my hands to my tummy and look down, overly aware of what a fucking mess this is. Colt isn’t interested in forever and I’m not interested in children. My dad has yet to find out that I’ve been boinking his former bunk mate and my mom might just fall over dead on the spot when the story comes out. My quiet Christmas at home has turned into a gigantic question mark. Thank goodness I’m here, alone, where I can work it all out without the pressure of having to put on a show for everyone.

  Life is a sadistic bitch sometimes because wouldn’t you know, as soon as I finish that thought, I hear the scrape of a key sliding into the lock on the front door, the grind of the little gears inside as it the tumbler falls into place, and then finally, the door swings open and Colt steps through, a shit-eating grin stretching across his face, his arms laden with gifts.

  “You put up a tree,” he says as a blast of cold air follows him inside.

  I stare at him. Face slack. Eyes wide. Total terror coursing through my veins.

  He takes one look at me and concern tightens his brows. “Nadine?” He’s at my side in an instant, crouching at my feet, peering up at my face. Damn if he doesn’t get all watery and wavery as tears well up and slowly start to slide down my cheeks.

  “Hey,” I manage, aware that it’s an insufficient greeting, considering my current state.

  “What’s wrong? What happened?”

  When I was growing up, my mom used to tell me that the answers to life’s questions stopped being as easy as yes or no, that they wouldn’t always be as clear as black and white. That sometimes, I’d be stuck trying to choose between two answers that both seem equally wrong and right. I always thought I understood what she meant, but looking back, I hadn’t a fucking clue what she was talking about until this moment.

  Do I tell Colt I think I’m pregnant and freak him the fuck out? Do I tell him I’m fine when it’s clear I’m not? Do I lie to him? Make up some vague excuse, some childish drama that explains away my tears?

  The longer I stare at him, these thoughts ticking away in my head, the more concerned he gets. I can see it in the tiny pulsing muscle in his jaw. His ever-tightening eyebrows. The way his eyes bounce across my face.

  I know this, I can’t lie to him. He deserves the truth, even if it’s an uncomfortable one.

  “Ummm,” I say, trying to find the courage to say what needs to be said. “I kinda, sorta, a little bit think I might be pregnant.”

  The words strike him like lightning and he’s up on his feet and backing away from me. “What? How?”

  “Well the how is pretty obvious,” I say and then trail off. I watch him suck in his lips and cross his arms over his chest. His gaze goes to that place right over my head, the spot he stares into when he’s uncomfortable. Rage boils in my stomach, tangles with my confusion and urges me to yell at his silence.

  But he deserves better. I’m certainly not handling the news with any amount of grace. I’d be a hypocrite to expect anything different from him.

  After a few silent seconds, he takes a long breath and refocuses on my face. “Why didn’t you say anything?” He’s gone all stoic and military on me, hiding his feelings behind his years of training.

  “Because I only just this very second realized that my period is late. I mean, I’m talking two heartbeats before you walked in the door.” Two heartbeats. Holy shit. Does my baby have a heartbeat yet?

  “So you haven’t taken a test?”

  I shake my head. “No.”

  He stares at me, nodding his head to whatever it is he’s thinking and then he crosses the room to crouch in front of me. “Are you okay?” he asks, his hand on my cheek.

  “I haven’t processed it all yet.” I lean into his hand and close my eyes. “I’m scared.” It’s an admission I didn’t mean to give him, but his very presence makes me feel safe enough to say everything I’m thinking.

  “Why?”

  “Aren’t you?”

  He shrugs. “A little. Not as much as I thought I’d be. Honestly? I’m kind of excited.”

  “Excited?” I stare into his eyes, fall so deeply into them that I’ll never find my way out again.

  “Yeah. Can you believe it? I kind of like the thought of my baby being in your belly.” Colt stands and runs a hand over his head. “You get comfortable. I’ll be back.”

  Twenty minutes later, we’re standing in my bathroom, staring at a plus sign in the little window of the pregnancy test he bought at the corner store. “Fuck me,” he says, wrapping his arm around my shoulder and drawing me in.

  “Isn’t that how we got into this mess?” I mean it to be funny, but the way my voice cracks at the end of the question kind of ruins the effect.

  Colt puts his hands on my shoulders and turns me to face him. “Is that what this is for you? A mess?”

  “I haven’t even finished college yet. We’re not even married. You don’t even think you want to be married. What if I get fat and you can’t stand to be with me anymore? What if you get tired of me? What if you realize that I’m too young for you and you’re ready for me to grow up but I can’t?” I would continue, but Colt puts a finger to my lips.

  “Sweetness,” he says. “Shut the fuck up for a minute and listen to me. When I said that I was ready to grow up and Sheila was more interested in staying young, I meant that I was ready to start a family and she told me she never wanted kids. She wanted to be able to stay out late and drink on the weeknights. She wanted to be wild and crazy and uncommitted to anything. I’ve wanted a family for a long time now. I want to be a father.”

  “Yeah, but do you want to be a family with me? We’ve only been dating for a month now. How can you be sure you want something as permanent as a child with me?”

  “Nadine. We’ve only been having sex for a month now, but I’ve known you for decades. I couldn’t think of a better woman to be the mother of my child. I don’t want anyone else, I just want you.” Colt grabs me by the waist and leans down to speak into my stomach. “And you, too. I want you, too, little one.”

  My emotions are running wild through me, torrents of happiness and fear twining together and rushing through my bloodstream like some kind of drug. Colt straightens and threads his fingers into my hair, leans down and kisses me as he his life depended on it. As if he could tell me all the things he’s not yet said in this one moment of connection.

  “I love you, Nadine,” he whispers against my lips. “I’ve tried for years to ignore it. To ignore you. But I can’
t. You got under my skin years ago and I was a fool to think I could ignore you.”

  His words send a jolt of adrenaline through my body. “I love you, too.” Tears well up in my eyes and I brush them away angrily.

  “This is a blessing,” he says, his palm flat against my belly. “This is life telling us to stop running away from each other. To stop fantasizing and start being real.”

  “Speaking of fantasies,” I begin, thinking mostly of my new ones, my forever ones, but not really intending to bring those up. Yet. “I’ve got a few more we can play with.” Sex is our playground, our comfort zone. If I get him naked, thrusting inside me, I feel like I might find my equilibrium and understand where we are together. I need him to call me his dirty whore, his filthy slut. I need him to put me in my place so I can stop feeling so fucking untethered.

  “Leave the fantasies for later,” he says. “Tonight I’m going to make love to the woman I love. I’m going to worship you, Nadine.”

  He takes my hand and leads me to the bed, helps me up onto it and then lowers me back onto the pillow. I’m drunk on his kisses, his whispered ‘I love you’s’, I’m drunk on him. Our sighs and moans of pleasure, the strength in his body as he enters me. The way I wrap myself around him, take him so deep inside me, molding to his shape. We move as one, chasing pleasure and emotion, staring so deeply into each other’s eyes that the world around us comes undone. It’s him and it’s me and our love for each other fills the space and that’s all that matters until we come together, shivering and shuddering and whispering each other’s name.

  Chapter Nine

  Downstairs, someone’s pounding on the door. Ringing the doorbell over and over while my phone buzzes away on my nightstand. Colt sits up, blearily rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

  “What the fuck?” he mutters as I roll over and check my phone.

  “It’s my dad,” I say as I answer the call.

  The pounding on the door stops as I offer my hello.

  “Nadine?” My dad’s voice is walking that fine line of concerned and annoyed.

  “Yeah, dad. Sorry. I was asleep.”

  “Well, stop sleeping and open the door. Mom wanted to surprise you for Christmas.”

  I stare dumbly at Colt, aware that the shit is seriously about to hit the fan. Age may have mellowed Jim Hill ever so slightly, but there’s no ignoring the fact that he’s a Marine, and he’s as protective of his little girl as any father has ever been in all the history of the world.

  “Don’t worry,” says Colt as I jump out of bed and search for something to put on. “I’ve got you. You just let me handle this.”

  Still not awake enough to fully process everything, I stumble down the stairs after him, stand behind him as he opens the door, and watch surprise blend into understanding on my parents’ faces. The next few hours are ugly. I’m talking Jerry Springer style shit, with accusations and curse words flying from reddened faces. Finally, my dad drags Colt into the other room. My mom and I sit stiffly on the couch, side by side, unspeaking, listening to the battle raging in the kitchen.

  Dad calls Colt every single name he can think of, even going so far as to call him a pedophile. When Colt reminds him that I’m a grown woman, there’s the unmistakable sound of a punch landing on his jaw. The tumble and scuffle of two warriors falling on each other and battling it out on my kitchen floor. Or at least that’s what I think I hear until Mom and I rush into the room and find Dad helping Colt to his feet.

  “I refuse to say I deserve that,” says Colt, staring up at my dad. “I refuse to feel bad for loving Nadine.”

  Mom turns to me, eyes wide, while my dad stares down the love of my life, the father of my unborn child, and his very best friend in the world. “He loves you?” she mouths and I nod.

  The expression on her face softens, changing. It’s one thing to think of Colt taking advantage of me, but it’s an entirely different thing to thing about the two of us in love with each other. And honestly? She’s probably known about my crush on Colt since before I even really knew what I was feeling. My mom knows me better than anyone ever has.

  Dad looks at me, all stern and sullen, his years in the military showing in the hard lines in his face. The restrained killer in his eyes.

  “Mandy,” he says, giving his attention to my mom. “Take Nadine upstairs so I can have an honest conversation with Colt.”

  Mom wraps an arm around my shoulder and leads me out of the kitchen. I’ve barely been awake long enough to know what day it is, let alone know how to handle the shit storm I’ve been in for the last twelve hours or so. As if finding out that unprotected sex really does end up in a surprise pregnancy—who knew?—wasn’t enough for one day, I know get to explain to my parents that I’ve been having an illicit affair with my dad’s best friend. Plus, I’m a terrible liar. The only secret I’ve ever managed to keep is all my Colt fantasies and let’s get real here. I didn’t keep that secret as well as I thought I did.

  But, I’ve got one hell of a secret thundering away in my head right now. I’m pregnant. Do I tell my mom? Do I avoid the conversation? That feels like the safest bet, but a lie of omission is still a lie. This whole situation is nothing but murky water and I can’t see my way through to know how to handle myself.

  When we get upstairs, I plop down on my bed and drop my head in my hands. Mom perches beside me, running her hand along my back. She’s never been the best in stressful situations. She’s lived this blissful little life, and it’s all pretty much by choice. She chooses to smile through whatever life throws at her, to find the positive in everything and most of the time, her advice comes down to some silly quote she found on Pinterest. And that’s great. It totally works for her, but I guess I’m more of a realist.

  “Love is a funny thing,” she says. “It doesn’t see age or color. It doesn’t see right or wrong. It doesn’t see time or space. It just…is.”

  I cringe, waiting for her to tell me to hold my chin up high and smile through the hard parts.

  “You’ve been in love with Colt for a long time.”

  Okay, so we’re not going to talk about fake smiles and boundless positivity, we’re going straight to the limitless honesty. This, I can work with.

  I bob my head in my hands. “Yep.”

  “How come you never talked to me about it?”

  I sit up, incredulous. “Because that’s a conversation I’m dying to have with my mom.”

  She sighs and shrugs. It’s a tiny little movement, one that is not at all happy or positive. “I just wish I’d been able to help you. Tell you it was okay. That of all the men out there, you could do a lot worse than Colt Barrett.”

  “Wait. What?”

  “He’s a good guy, Nadine. I don’t see anything wrong with the two of you being together.” A crease appears between her eyebrows and it’s officially the first time I’ve ever seen my mom look worried. “This is the first time you’ve been together, right? Nothing when you were younger?”

  “God, no.” I shake my head, surprised by the direction this conversation is going.

  Mom lets out a long breath. “Good. Because then I’d have more of a problem with you guys…” She waves her hand back towards the crumpled sheets on the bed behind us.

  I drop my head in my hands. “Oh my god. Kill me now,” I mutter.

  “Oh, come off it, Nadine. We’re all adults in this situation.” My mom laughs. “And it’s not like you two have been very stealthy about the whole thing. The man rented you a house. It’s not like we were totally clueless.”

  “I’m sorry. It’s just been a very weird twelve hours and I haven’t been awake very long.” I look towards the door, hoping to hear some strains of the conversation in the kitchen. “You think dad’s going to kill him?”

  Mom chuckles. “Your dad has to have his chance to say what’s on his mind. But no, I don’t think he’s going to kill him.”

  “He might after he hears the rest of the story.” I can’t keep a secret from my mom. I jus
t can’t. I don’t have it in me. “I’m pregnant.”

  Mom’s eyes go wide and her lips part. “Pregnant?” The word is barely a whisper.

  “Just found out last night. I’m kind of overwhelmed.”

  “Pregnant?” Tears well in mom’s eyes and everything about her softens. She tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. “My baby’s going to have a baby?” She sounds more and more excited with every passing second. And then, her hand flies to cover her heart. “Colt’s going to have a baby. After all these years, he’s finally going to have the family he’s always wanted and my little girl is the one who’s going to give it to him.” She gives a little hiccupping sob and covers her mouth.

  “You aren’t mad?”

  “How could I be mad at something so beautiful? You’ve loved him for most of your life and he’s definitely had his eye on you longer than your dad was ever comfortable with. And now there’s a baby!” Mom puts her hands on my stomach. “It couldn’t be more perfect.”

  “But what about school? Graduation? Finding a job?” I run a hand through my hair and it catches in a nest of tangles. “I’ve barely had a chance to start my life yet.”

  “Life has a way of taking you where you’re meant to go, despite out best attempts at making a plan.”

  “And there it is, inspirational Pinterest quote number one.” I laugh a little and roll my eyes.

  “Laugh all you want, daughter, but there’s truth there. All the things they teach you to want? Money, a good job, a strong handshake, a whole network of connections? It’s all just noise, baby girl. You sit quietly long enough and you’ll see that what matters most in this world is spending time with the people you love.” She puts a hand on my knee and squeezes. “I knew your dad was the man for me because it didn’t matter if he took me to MacDonald’s or Hawaii, I was happiest when I was with him. And then you came along and life hasn’t stopped making that kind of sense since.”