The Woman Left Behind
When she got up to cut the cake, the kids all came running. “I want the tongue!” Boom’s son—his name was Matthew—shouted, and Levi said drily, “Son, don’t we all.”
Everyone except Jina laughed, but Levi joking around was almost more than she could take. She was tolerating him being here, but that didn’t mean she was comfortable with it. After flaying her with words, here he was eating her food and destroying the peace of being in her own space. She didn’t want him here, didn’t want to be able to picture him standing in her kitchen.
“I think I can cut it so all of you get a piece of the mouth,” she told the kids, and did just that, making a circle in the middle of the cake and then doing some artful cutting that allowed each kid some of the red frosting. Snake stepped in and took the small plate for his toddler, who set up a bellow of rebellion. Over the noise he said, “Sit in my lap, buddy, and I’ll help you eat the tongue cake, okay?”
“No! No! Mine!”
He scooped the struggling, protesting kid up under his arm. “It’s yours, I’m not going to eat it, I’m just going to help you. Now settle down.” The last three words were said sharply enough that the rebellion subsided to a quivering chin and damp eyes, which changed to contentment as soon as the first bite of cake was in his mouth.
It was amusing watching Snake deal with his little hellion, but it did make Jina think twice about wanting kids sometime in the amorphous future. Now, if she could be assured her kids would all be cute charmers like Mia, that would be different. Not that she had to worry about kids now, with not even a hint of a romantic relationship anywhere in her life.
The whole cake soon disappeared; she felt lucky to be able to serve some of it to Terisa and Ailani and grab the last small slice for herself and retreat to the living room. The rest of the evening went pretty much the same way, with the men grouped in the kitchen with the kids running around. Deep voices rumbled, bursts of laughter came and went, but with the kids around there were limits to the raunchiness they could descend to. The women were content to sit in the living room and chat. When Mia sought out Terisa, climbed into her lap, and promptly went to sleep, Jina took that as a sign that the families would generally have an early departure time. She had no idea what time the single guys were thinking about leaving, but she didn’t mind shooing them out. She’d fed them, she had given them beer; her social obligations had been met.
There wasn’t much food left to put away, but she got up and took care of that chore. Ailani and Terisa of course offered to help clean the kitchen, but Jina refused them with a smile. “There isn’t much to clean, just some spoons and such. I worship at the altar of disposable plates and cups.”
“Amen, sister. I’m trying to remember the last time I ate on a real plate,” Terisa said.
Snake came in with the wild child asleep on his shoulder. “We should get these kids in bed,” he said. “Thanks for having us over, Babe.” He paused. “Where did you get that cake? Brody wants a ‘tongue cake’ for his birthday.”
“I made it.”
“Liar.”
“Am not. I can make cakes, and my mom taught me how to decorate them.”
He turned and raised his voice so he could be heard in the kitchen. “Hey, guys, Babe made the cake!”
She saw right away where that was going. “Doesn’t matter,” she said. “I’m not baking cakes for y’all. Just not.”
“Aw, come on.”
“Feeding the bunch of you is not my job. I didn’t take you to raise.”
They left kind of in a group, a few of the guys still trying to talk her into baking for them. Levi wasn’t one of them. She had no idea why he’d come, unless he was just looking for free food and hanging with the other guys. He went out without looking at her or saying good-bye, which was fine with her. Donnelly stayed behind, which was also fine; that’s what a boyfriend would do.
“Thanks for coming,” Jina said as she began loading the few dishes into the dishwasher. “This was nice.” Not great, but nice. He was a good guy to help her out the way he had.
“I enjoyed it. The guys are cool, aren’t they? I’m looking forward to joining my team, though I wish Kodak had made an effort to work me into the team the way Ace has with you.”
She snorted. “Even though they’ve worked my butt off, trying to get me in what they think is acceptable shape?”
He lounged against the cabinet beside the dishwasher, watching her work. “Yeah, even then. When you go on the first mission, you’ll already be part of the team. You know them, and they know you. The rest of us will be going in cold, not knowing what to expect.” He paused. “Maybe you should send a memo to MacNamara that he should make integrated training par for the course.”
“Maybe you should send the memo. Bring yourself to his attention.”
Now it was Donnelly’s turn to snort. “Yeah, right. Like I want him to notice me.”
“Then why are you trying to throw me into the cage?”
He grinned at her, not the least abashed. “Better you than me, right?”
He hung around a few minutes more, making small talk, then yawned. “Sorry,” he said sheepishly. “This program has turned me into one of those mutants who go to bed early.”
Jina barely kept herself from yawning, too—and it was just nine o’clock. She saw Donnelly out and locked the door behind him.
Blowing out a breath, she surveyed the condo. Not much damage had been done; she’d have to stack the cushions on the floor in some corner to get them out of the way, but for the most part things were in fairly good shape. The parents had ridden herd on the kids and kept them pretty much under control. Nothing had been broken, a few things were out of place, and that was it. She’d been to parties with her friends that resulted in way more chaos.
She’d been straightening things for a few minutes when the doorbell rang. Muttering under her breath because Donnelly must have forgotten something and she was already out of the mood for company, she nevertheless took the time to check through the peephole.
Levi.
She stood frozen, her heart thundering in her chest. His effect on her was instantaneous, and maddening. What in hell did he want? A second later she decided she didn’t care and left him standing out in the small foyer while she returned to her neatening. He could stand out there all night for all she cared.
The bell rang again. “I saw you check the peephole,” he said, his deep voice barely muffled by the wood. “Open the door.”
“Go away,” she retorted. “I don’t want to see you, I don’t want to talk to you.”
“Tough shit. I have something to say and it’s going to get said tonight, even if I have to kick your door in.”
“I’ll have you arrested if you do.”
“No, you won’t, because that would screw with the team.”
She knotted her fists and clenched her teeth, caught with the truth of that. Working as hard as she had to join the team had made the team a whole lot more important in reality than it had ever been in concept. The guys weren’t just guys, they were teammates.
She unlocked the door and opened it, but kept her hand firmly on the doorknob and herself planted in the doorway, denying him entrance. If he really wanted in, she wasn’t physically able to stop him, but she sure as hell wasn’t going to invite him inside.
“What?” she demanded truculently, trying to ignore the almost overwhelming physical presence of him, man mixed with the scent of rain and the chill of a November night.
He looked down at her, dwarfing her with his height and muscularity, his mouth thin and his dark eyes with that flat expression. “I came to apologize.”
“I don’t accept your apology,” she shot back. No way was what he’d said all right, and he couldn’t make it right.
“Then don’t. I waited in the parking lot to see if Donnelly left—”
“Stalkerish, much?” she muttered. “You could have sent me a text, so I could ignore you. I prefer that approach. Honest.”
&nb
sp; “What I said—it was true. I should have phrased it better, but it was true.”
“Fine. You aren’t good with the English language. I don’t care. You can leave now.”
When she started to close the door, he slapped his left hand out and stopped it. “You’re going to listen,” he growled, taking a step forward so she would have to tilt her head back if she wanted to look at his face.
She didn’t. She kept her gaze straightforward, staring at his chest. He was so close she could feel the heat coming off his body, feel the fury and frustration almost boiling in him. A hard pulse was pounding in the hollow at the base of his throat, like a visible hammer.
He waited, but when she didn’t say anything else, he inhaled, blew out the breath. “I left out an important piece of information.”
“That you’re an asshole? I already knew that.” She couldn’t relent, couldn’t make herself retreat to a more civil position. She had never in her life been so angry and humiliated and, yes, hurt, and she hated feeling like that, she hated herself for being susceptible to him, hated him for knowing.
“It goes both ways.” His tone was deep and as full of anger as she felt. “You need to know that. It goes both ways.”
Then he turned around and left, his lithe stride taking him down two steps at once; he turned the corner of the landing and she couldn’t see him anymore, though she stood there in the open door listening to his booted steps, the sound of the outer door opening and closing.
Numbly she closed her door and locked it, then slowly sank to the floor with her back against the door, staring sightlessly at nothing.
He could have gone forever without telling her that. She wished he had. Because nothing had changed, except now regret was added to the pain in her heart.
Nine
Jina picked herself up from the floor, both literally and figuratively; sitting there was accomplishing nothing and she needed to finish putting her space back in order. If she couldn’t quite push him out of her mind, she could at least occupy herself by doing something useful.
Damn him, she thought yet again; that phrase seemed to come to mind a lot whenever she thought of Levi. Why hadn’t he just kept his mouth shut? She’d been doing a good job of not letting herself acknowledge how attractive she found him; it was that good old survivor instinct of hers at work. Levi wasn’t a man who would even be a comfortable casual date, much less anything more serious. She hated being so aware of him, hated the way her pulse rate shot up like fireworks whenever he was near, or when he spoke to her—even if he was barking an order. She could easily become obsessed with him, and she hated that kind of weakness so she hadn’t let herself, hadn’t let herself do a lot of things.
She hadn’t let herself daydream about when she’d blistered her feet and he’d tended to them, or how he’d ordered the perfect boots for her feet. Well, why should she? She’d paid for the boots, it wasn’t as if they were a gift. She felt silly for liking them because Levi was involved in getting them for her. The boots didn’t mean he cared, regardless of what he said about “it going both ways.” What he cared about was the team functioning as a well-oiled unit, all parts of it healthy and able to do the job. So she turned him on. Big deal. He wouldn’t let that intrude on the team dynamics, and she agreed with him. That was why she’d kept herself to herself.
She hadn’t let herself dream about him, hadn’t let herself wonder about his taste or what it would be like to have that laser attention focused on her, hadn’t let herself flirt, had been strictly business in her dealings with him.
That was what hurt. He’d slapped her down for no reason. Or maybe he thought she was weak, and he’d just been waiting for her to . . . what? Tackle him and ravish him?
Her cheeks burned with anger, because she had entertained a fleeting speculation about the size of his dick. How could she not? Once when he’d squatted down, the angle had been just right and she’d seen that big bulge and she was human, of course she’d enjoyed a brief fantasy. Evidently the fantasy hadn’t been brief enough, because he must have seen something and it was her fault, because the other guys had also done some squatting and all sorts of other positions and not once had she checked out their packages. Just Levi’s. Damn him.
Her thoughts kept circling back to the same path, the same words, and finally she was so annoyed with herself she went out on the balcony without a jacket, to stand in the dark and let the cold damp air chase the frustration out of her brain. Being cold and shivering refocused her thoughts in a hurry, and for some reason put things in perspective.
She didn’t have to let this throw her. She’d carry on as usual, do her job, finish her training—dear God, jumping out of a plane!—and take her place on the team. She hadn’t busted her butt all these months to blow it by boohooing over hurt feelings. So screw him. No matter how hateful he got, she wouldn’t quit.
She slept well that night, despite him. Still, when her phone dinged with a text at five o’clock the next morning, she wished she could have gotten another couple of hours in bed.
Groaning, her heart pounding because what if something had happened to some of her family, she switched on the lamp and fumbled for the phone. “Ah, hell!” The text was from Levi, ACE showing big and bold in the screen. She rubbed her eyes, focused on the text, and suddenly who it was from didn’t matter at all, because the text itself made time stop.
Weather cleared. Meet at training site 0800.
No! Oh God, no! Not today. Not on a Sunday. Sundays were off days, except for running. She’d expected to have more warning, so she could hunt down a sedative, or, failing that, somehow land herself in the hospital. God, if you’re listening, joking not joking.
She got up and hit the shower, because if she died, she wanted to be clean, not that it would matter, because if she went splat, there wouldn’t be enough of her left to tell if she’d been dirty or not. Still, the impulse was strong. Running water was supposed to be soothing. It failed on that count. After her shower she braided her hair, because long hair flying all over the place couldn’t be good while arrowing toward Earth at a gazillion miles per hour.
She choked down half a slice of toast, smeared with peanut butter, though maybe an empty stomach would be a better idea. What if she threw up in midair? Would the vomit descend at the same rate, so she’d go the whole way down surrounded by her own puke? Bummer. On the other hand, if she didn’t eat, her blood sugar might bottom out and that wouldn’t be good, either. She drank just half a cup of coffee because she didn’t want to pee on herself in midair, either.
Another dilemma presented itself. How was she supposed to dress for plunging to her death? A quick check of the weather confirmed that the sky was clear and the temperature was chilly, though it would warm up all the way to mildly pleasant by the middle of the afternoon. This wasn’t a question she was going to text to any of the guys, because they’d never let her live it down. That was based on the assumption that she’d survive the day, so that thought was vaguely reassuring. In the end she put on some long silk underwear she’d bought her first winter in D.C., then dressed mostly as usual for a training day, in cargo pants, a sweatshirt, but sneakers instead of boots because her boots were speed-laced and jump boots weren’t. She tried not to think of things the hooks on her boots could get hung on, during a jump. Finally she grabbed her North Face pull-on snow cap and thought she’d done the best she could.
Trying to focus on the pros and cons of being clean and well dressed while she was terrified out of her mind and might be dying soon didn’t work very well as a means of distraction.
She arrived half an hour early and sat in the car with her head resting on the steering wheel, praying under her breath and wondering if she should call her mom, in case she never had another chance. No, because if she talked to her mom now, she might lose it and blurt out everything, about the GO-Team and the drone, which was way classified, and being forced to parachute, and that would be bad.
A tap on her driver’s-side window
made her shriek and jump and bump her knee hard on the steering column, which made her cuss.
Levi stood there, laughing. She hated him, hated the way his laugh lit up his face, white teeth flashing, dark eyes crinkled at the corners. How dare he laugh, after everything? She opened her car door and shoved it hard, banging it against his knee.
“Ow!” He moved out of range, leaning down to rub his knee and glare at her. “Watch what you’re doing.”
She returned the glare as she got out and slammed the door. “I did, and I enjoyed it very much, thank you. It was funny. You know, like when I banged my knee and you laughed.”
For some reason he seemed to be in a good mood. The right side of his mouth quirked up in a half smile, and he said, “Fair enough.” Maybe he was in a good mood because he thought today would be her swan song, and even if she survived, she might say she was done.
As if she would give him the satisfaction. She might die, but she wouldn’t quit.
Boom arrived in his big king-cab pickup and interrupted whatever might have followed, whether it would have been an argument or stony silence. Could have gone either way.
Levi said, “We’re riding with Boom,” and strode toward the truck. Jina trudged along behind him, not willing to trot to keep up with those long strides. She walked differently these days, using longer, more efficient strides herself, but no way could she keep up with someone who was six-four. He should have stopped growing at a reasonable height. Damn him.
She didn’t even like the way he breathed.
He got in front with Boom, and she boosted herself into the backseat. Boom’s truck wasn’t as high as Levi’s, maybe because he had a wife and two kids who also rode in the truck, but these days she wouldn’t have had any problem, anyway. Legs of steel, she thought triumphantly, and although that was an exaggeration, she was in the best shape of her life. Maybe the legs of steel had enough coil and strength to them to keep her from breaking her neck when she landed. Or maybe she could use them to kick Levi out of the plane.