Page 36 of The Captain's Little Girl

CHAPTER12

In a couple of days, Cricket felt much better. She’d known she had worse cramps than many women but had just suffered through it. She was almost sorry to have the symptoms diminish this time because Mark had been so attentive to her. The orgasms he had coaxed from her had eased the discomfort and he was the one person she didn’t need to hide how she was feeling from—he was there to take care of her completely.

She set her tray on the bar and called in a large order before looking around at the crowd. The guys hadn’t come in today. That was surprising.

“Have you checked your phone?” River asked, appearing beside Cricket.

“No. What’s up?” Cricket pulled out her cell and looked at the screen. A message notification appeared. Quickly, she selected it and scanned it.

“They didn’t even have time to say goodbye,” River bemoaned. “I keep thinking this will get easier, but it never does.”

Cricket blinked away the tears that welled in her eyes and nodded. She loaded her tray as the bartender handed her glasses, glad to have something to keep her busy. Hopefully, they wouldn’t be gone long. She crossed her fingers before carrying the drinks to her customers. Mark wouldn’t want her to worry.

Picking up her tray, she blended into the crowd, determined to make other people happy while she worried. Thank goodness it’s a busy night.

By the end of the evening, as the last stragglers left and the servers stacked chairs on the tables to clean the floor, Cricket couldn’t take part in all the regular chatter. She noticed River was quiet as well and sent her a supportive smile. Her friend nodded back. Without talking, they both knew they were glad to have each other to lean on while the guys were gone.

After clocking out, she and River walked out together. Cricket turned to the other little girl and broke the silence that stretched between them. “I don’t know what to do. Do I go home or to Mark’s?”

“You go to Mark’s. He’d want to know you’re sleeping in his bed. We’re going to Hope’s first though,” River told her.

“Does Hope know that?”

“I’m sure Rosie and Ember are already there,” River assured her.

“Okay. I’ll follow you.”

Navigating the almost empty streets in the wee hours of the morning with ease, the two women soon pulled next to the curb of a house with a vehicle in the driveway. Cricket slid out of her car and met River on the sidewalk.

“That’s Tex’s truck. Rosie’s here,” Cricket observed.

“She’d have picked up Ember. Come on. The gang’s all here,” River said, wrapping an arm around Cricket’s waist.

After they had exchanged hugs, the women settled on the floor to talk. Hope set a beautiful platter of cookies between them for a snack. Cricket studiously avoided looking at the treats. It would be a long time before she ate cookies—even Rosie’s gourmet ones.

“So, nobody knows more than I do?” Cricket asked.

“We never do. For the guys’ safety, information is severely limited,” Ember shared. “We didn’t even have a note on the fridge this time.”

“The fridge?” Cricket echoed.

“That’s the place our daddies leave a note if they are at home when they get the notice they’ve been deployed,” River explained. “I figured since I got a text message that I wouldn’t find one at home, but I hoped—maybe.” Her voice trailed off.

Rosie wrapped her arm around River and gave her a comforting squeeze. “We all love those, too. I keep them all in a box.”

The nods around the circle clued Cricket in that those notes were highly prized. Now she really wished she’d get one.

“I had an idea. A way we can put good vibes into the world and help us remember the happiest of times while our guys are away,” Hope offered in a cheerful voice, driving away the sadness from the room.

“That sounds amazing, Hope. What do we need to do?” River asked, leaning forward to snag a brownie.

“I’ll go get the supplies,” Hope said, jumping to her feet.

She returned in a flash with spools of thick cording in a variety of colors, scissors, and a sheet of paper folded in half. “Choose your favorite color. You’re going to wear a bracelet we make until the guys get home to cut it off.”

“So, we just need a piece longer than our wrist size to tie it?” Ember asked, reaching for the red.

“No, cut off a section that could go around your wrist four times,” Hope instructed. “More is better than less. You want to have enough.”

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