Page 26 of Indirect Attack
How could a man so gruff and tough be so sweet? Whatever it was, I was glad he was mine. Because I was sure now, he was mine.
Finally.
Chapter 13
Ben
WHAT LITTLE SLEEP I’Dmanaged to grab in the early morning hours hadn’t been enough—a large cup of steaming coffee sat beside me as I looked at the reports littering the desk. It wasn’t any good, but it was strong enough that I knew it would at least get me through the rest of the morning.
Those few hours between when I’d returned from the hotel and when I’d gone on duty should have been enough—I’d done more on less. But I hadn’t actually been able to sleep, even as tired as I’d been on my return to the barracks.
Instead, my head had been full of the evening, of Jasmine’s laugh and smile, of our warm conversation as we reminisced. More than that, at moments, it was still as if I could feel her against me, her skin on fire, sweat slicking our skin. I could hear her gasps and moans, feel her fingers digging into my skin, see the expressions of pleasure skittering across her face, each chasing the last. All I wanted to see, still, was the desire burning intensely in her eyes as she stared back at me.
I’d lain on my bunk, staring at the ceiling, just thinking about her. About us. What I’d wanted so long ago, the family with Jasmine, the quiet life, the dream I’d stuffed into the drawer, along with all memories and physical reminders of her, suddenly didn’t seem so far off. Or such an impossibility.
When I’d re-upped and returned to the Marines after my first confrontation with Greg, that dream had seemed entirely over. Impossible. Unreachable. Unlike my brothers, minus Sam, and my father, the military had never been where I’d wanted to spend my life. But there I’d been, facing a lifetime of service of my own free will and signature. It had left me feeling adrift and stuck.
As my mind had cleared of the worst of the pain of losing Jasmine, I hadn’t felt so stuck. I could still have a quiet life, even if I were alone. I would stay in the Marines until I was eligible for a pension, and then I would find that farmhouse with the acres attached.
I tried a few times to connect with other women, a few while I was on leave, one who was in the Marines, and even a friend of my sister-in-law Rosa’s. But none of them had been Jasmine, and I’d given up after a while.
But everything seemed like it could be back on the table with a suddenness that left me reeling. But also giddy in a way I hadn’t felt in years.
I’d never stopped loving Jasmine, had never been able to root her out of my heart. The only thing I’d done was push the feelings so far down I didn’t have to experience them. But they’d come roaring back, and I welcomed them.
And along with the feelings came the need to make up for the mistakes I’d made over the years. Yes, I had been young and dumb, too full of myself and too lost in my own needs, wants, and emotions. And, yes, we’d both made mistakes, but I was the real reason we weren’t together, and as much as it had pained me to hear Jasmine’s words, I couldn’t deny they were the truth.
Even if I had been thinking similar thoughts, hearing it from Jasmine had put me on the defensive at first. Her words hadn’t been easy to hear, but I’d known, even in the moment, they were important. We had a lot of history between us, much of it good,but some of it rocky and heartbreaking. We both understood that whatever the future held, we couldn’t begin again, couldn’t have a fresh start, without airing what was still between us. It would only fester and grow until it was a wall that would drive us apart.
Jasmine had simply put them all out there, put everything on the table for me to either look at or ignore. And it was time to face the truth so we—I—didn’t repeat my mistakes. I hadn’t been old enough or mature enough to listen then, and it was difficult not to wish I had been.
Despite my earlier thoughts, my declaration that the past was the past, in the early hours before dawn, my mind had crept back to a place where I hadn’t decided a long-distance relationship was too difficult. What if I hadn’t become some kind of dramatic hero in my head who sacrificed himself so the love of his live could live in peace? What if I’d listened to Jasmine’s messages instead of turning my phone off and running away? How different would things be now? Where would I be, instead of in a military barracks? Maybe in a warm, cozy bed with Jasmine sleeping by my side?
I’d had to forcefully pull my thoughts away from that line of reasoning—it led down a dark path. I had to focus on the here and now, the second chance, the woman who fate put into my life again when I’d made the idiot mistake of letting her go—twice.
It had stung in the moment, but I was glad Jasmine had poured out her heart to me. I knew now how she’d felt then. More than that, it was a further glance into the woman my childhood friend had become—someone who was strong, who stood up for herself, who got things done. It only made me love and admire her more.
“Sergeant Rusev?”
I looked up from the reports, lists of information we were using to take over guard of the dig site from the local military. A corporal leaned on the barracks door, his eyes on me.
Something about the set of his mouth and the worry in his eyes sent a prickle of unease down my spine.
“Yes?”
“There’s a representative from the UN here to see you.”
The prickle of unease grew into a sense of foreboding at the words—typically, the UN would send a message if they needed me. An actual, in-person messenger was never a good thing.
“Where are they?”
The corporal jammed his thumb over his shoulder. “Waiting over there.”
I didn’t exactly have an office, but my area at the moment was empty, and I was alone.
“Okay, send him in here.”
The corporal nodded and ducked back out, reappearing with the UN messenger a moment later. The man was of middle height and had to look up as I stood to greet him. Dark eyes watched me wearily and critically as we shook. He handed me his card as he gave me his name, then ran a hand through his thick, dark hair.
