Page 5 of Ripple Effect
I’m stunned and a little taken aback. “I was okay with what I had.”
Flicking a stray hair away from my face, he shrugs as if it’s no big deal. Then again, to him, it probably isn’t, I remind myself. He brings us back around to what we were discussing as he polishes off the dredges of the drink I’d been nursing. “So, a dual major? That’s impressive. Do you already have a job lined up back in Charleston?”
I duck my head. It’s not something I share with a lot of people. “Less of a job, more of a dream.”
“I like the idea of you having dreams, Libby.” My head snaps up. An arc of something different moves between us. We’re butting up against a line I stopped daring to toe up against.
Then I know I’m not imagining the brief flit of a smile that crosses his lips after the new wine is put down in between us and he takes a sip before I can even reach for it. Handing it to me, his voice drops as he says, “Much better. It tastes like something the sun actually kissed versus something it killed.”
The comment is so outrageous, I toss my hair back and laugh. When I finish, Cal’s still smiling. I reach for the wine and declare flippantly, “You should smile more. You’re incredibly handsome when you do.”
Even though Cal’s smile fades—a terrible shame—the words he whispers in my ear will make me remember that smile forever.
“Since you’re going to be leaving soon, I suppose it’s safe to tell you the only time I ever think about smiling is when I’m around you.”
He sits back and rests an arm over the back of the booth, leaving me frozen in place.
Why would he say that to me? Why now when we’ve got less than two weeks left until I leave?
Picking up the wine, I take a long drink and hate that he’s right. It does taste like liquid sunlight. And I’ll never be able to drink it again without thinking of him.
Calhoun
Fifteen Years Ago from Present Day
Libby Akin is causing me to lose sleep and not in a way that gives me any sort of satisfaction.
I roll over and punch my pillow in the off-campus apartment I live in, unable to stop thinking of her mahogany-brown hair and gem-colored eyes. While I’m recovering from a few injuries I sustained on my last assignment, I was sent here to scout out and recruit candidates for Alliance. Both of our time here is almost over.
It’s why I haven’t touched her the way I’ve been dying to.
But God, what I wouldn’t give to have her beautiful smile warm the cold dark parts of me. It’s impossible not to know when she’s in the vicinity, and that’s not simply when I’m around her cousin. All I have to do is walk out the political science building where a former Alliance employee contacted the Admiral six months ago about a few potential recruits and wham! I know she’s there when her laughter peals out above the melee of students.
When she touches me, even if it’s in the most innocent of ways, my skin tingles. My heart rate starts to accelerate faster than if I’ve just clocked five miles. And my cock? It’s harder than if one of the women I’ve fucked since I’ve been here has lavished attention on it for hours.
Because it’s just Libby. And the truth is she’s the only thing I’ve ever wanted in a life where I’ve been given nothing.
Rolling onto my back, I make out the whirring blades of the ceiling fan in the dark. At least this assignment comes with a bed, I think ruefully. The last one involved sleeping bags and sand for much longer than I enjoyed. Rubbing the heel of one calloused foot up my leg to feel the scar, I remember the blisters I suffered as the fine sand of the Middle Eastern desert found its way into my combat boots. Pain in the ass. Sand doesn’t come out of anything. I’m certain I was still shitting it when the Admiral told me I was coming here; I ate so much of it. But it was worth it. We managed to rescue the Bahraini ambassador’s son without starting an international incident.
At twenty-eight, I’ve done more than I ever expected to do in this life. I’ve visited more countries on the map than most people have heard of, many of which I couldn’t even identify in my youth growing up in a foster home after my mother decided she’d had enough of motherhood after three short days and abandoned me in a gas station in nowheresville Georgia.
While my resume officially reads I’m a member of the National Guard, the reality is I’ve worked for Alliance since my junior year of college. At the beginning, I interned for the Charleston-based company doing nothing but admin work. It was one of our former team leaders who noticed me staying late and studying mission reports with hungry eyes. “That mission was completed FUBARed,” he drawled. “See anything you would have done differently, Cal?”
My guard was up, because I was uncertain if I was in trouble for reviewing the materials. But I was cleared to read them. After all, part of my job was to make certain they ended up in the right hands. But still, I answered honestly. “Your point man gave away your position, whether he intended to or not. You need to rework your signal process,” I told him bluntly.
He acknowledged my feedback with a brisk nod before walking out the door without another word. I was certain I was fucked the next day when I was called into Ret. Admiral Richard Yarborough’s office. Yarborough, the owner of Alliance, was and is not a man to fuck with. A former SEAL, he was taken out due to a shot to the leg that shattered his kneecap. Unwilling to sit on the sidelines, he brought together a coalition of the best civilians to operate with permission of the government to go where they can’t due to negotiated treaties and peace agreements.
Alliance has never been limited by such boundaries.
“So, I hear I have a mole, Sullivan?”
“What…what do you mean, sir?” I stuttered. He spun his chair around to face me.
“Byers called me last night and said you spotted what he didn’t. The signals were compromised—we could have lost brave men and women out there.” He gestures to a chair in front of his mammoth desk. “Please sit.”
I did, not because he asked me, but because my legs were so filled with jelly, I was afraid I was going to fall down. “Maybe it’s because I’m removed from it all,” I offered.
He snorted. “Bullshit, son. It’s because you have an aptitude for this business. Now, have you ever heard of OCS?”
