Last Virgin In California. Maureen Child
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want a tour,” Kevin reminded her.
“That’s not a tour. That’s just observing.”
“No observers allowed,” he said.
“Staff Sergeant Michaels just asked you to be an observer.”
“He asked me to be backup.”
From the corner of her eye, she noted that Sergeant Michaels was watching the two of them with fascination. But she paid no attention to him. Instead, she concentrated on the huge man glowering at her.
“And if you’re not doing anything but being backup,” she pointed out, “what exactly will you be doing?”
“Watching.”
“Ah-hah.” She folded her arms across her chest, leaned back and gave him a victorious smile. “In other words, observing.”
She watched him grind his teeth together. Every muscle in his jaw clenched and unclenched several times before he trusted himself to speak.
“Whatever I’m doing, it’s my job,” he said. “These kids don’t need an audience.”
“Hardly an audience. One woman. In the background. Watching.”
“No.”
“Look,” Michaels interrupted, apparently sensing that there was going to be no time limit at all to this argument, “all I need to know is if you can do it.”
Kevin, still scowling, said, “Yeah. I’ll be there.”
“Good, thanks.” Touching the brim of his hat with his fingertips, he glanced at Lilah and said, “Ma’am, enjoy your stay.”
“Thank you,” she said, but he had already done an about-face and was striding away, leaving she and Kevin alone again.
Before she had the chance to open the discussion again though, he was looking at her. “Forget about it,” he said tightly.
One thing Lilah had never been able to stand was being told what to do. Another reason why she’d never have made it in the military.
“I could pull rank on you,” she said.
“You don’t have a rank,” he reminded her.
“My father does.”
“He’d be on my side.”
Hmm. She suspected that was true. Her father was a stickler for the rules. Poor man.
“What harm could it do?”
“None, ’cause you won’t be there.”
“You know,” she said, walking again, headed across the grounds toward a patch of grass where several squads were drilling, “I don’t need your permission.”
“Actually,” he said, falling into step beside her, “yeah. You do.”
“What?” She looked up, and her hair flew across her eyes. She clawed at it, then reached around, grabbing a handful of hair and holding it in place at the nape of her neck. Hard to argue with a person when your own hair was working against you.
“I’m a senior D.I.,” he said and darned if he didn’t look like he was enjoying himself, saying it. “I train the instructors. They answer to me. I look after the new recruits. I say who comes and goes.” He bent down again, bringing his gaze in a direct line with hers. “And I say you don’t go anywhere near the new recruits tonight. Understand?”
Lilah ducked back into the shadows as the bus pulled around the corner and came to a stop. Two in the morning and the faces she could make out through the windows were wild-eyed. “Probably scared to death,” she muttered, then slunk farther back into the darkness as the sound of footsteps rose up from close by.
Staff Sergeant Michaels, with Kevin Rogan just a step or two behind him, headed for the bus. The driver slammed the double doors open with a “thunk” that seemed to echo in the otherwise stillness.
Lilah went up on her toes and wished she was five inches taller. She’d never liked being short. People never took short people seriously. They always thought you were “cute.” Besides, she’d rather reach her own cereal down from the top shelf at the grocery store, thank you very much. But she’d never been as frustrated with her height as she was at the moment.
“Not bad enough I have to hide like a criminal,” she whispered, “but I go to all the trouble of coming down here and now I can’t see anything.”
Sergeant Michaels vaulted up the three steps into the bus and started his long walk down the narrow aisle. She caught glimpses of pale faces and she could only make out the Gunny’s silhouette, but she had no trouble at all hearing him.
“Listen up!” he thundered in a roar that was designed to capture everyone’s attention. “When I give you the word, you will get the hell off this bus. Then you will stand in the yellow footprints painted on the pavement. You will then wait for further instructions. Do you hear me?”
“Yes, sir,” came a desultory answer from only a handful of the kids trapped on that bus.
“From this moment on,” Michaels screamed and Lilah was pretty sure even she flinched, “you will begin and end every answer to every question with “sir.” Is that clear?”
“Sir, yes, sir!” A few more voices this time.
“I can’t hear you.”
“Sir, yes, sir!”
With that, he strode back down the center aisle, left the bus and stood just at the bottom of the steps. “Move, move, move, move…” he shouted and instantly, dozens of feet went into action.
Clamoring to hurry, racing to follow instructions, a bunch of kids who only the day before had only to worry about which hamburger joint to have lunch in rushed toward destiny. Lilah winced in silent sympathy for what she knew they’d be going through soon. Boot camp was rough, but if they made it through, each of those kids would be stronger than they ever would have believed possible. Heaven knew she had never really felt as though she belonged, but she respected what the Corps could do. What they represented. What was possible with the kind of teamwork taught in the Marines.
A flash of pride swelled inside her as she listened to those feet hustling off the bus. They were scared now, but in a few short weeks, they’d be proud.
“I should have known,” a voice came from right beside her and Lilah jumped, just managing to stifle a screech of surprise.
Grabbing the base of her throat, she half turned and looked up into now familiar green eyes. “Good God, you almost killed me,” she said.
“Don’t tempt me.”
She straightened up to her full, less than impressive height. “Hey, I’m not one of those kids, you can’t order me around.”
“That seems pretty clear,” he muttered, then grabbed her upper arm in a grip that told her his temper was carefully leashed. “Why are you here?”
Lilah flashed him a grin. “Because you told me I couldn’t be.”
“You know,” he said, with a shake of his head, “I never thought I’d feel sorry for an officer. But damned if I don’t feel some sympathy for the Colonel.”
“I’ll pass that along for you,” she said.
Chapter Four
“Do you ever do what you’re told?” he asked, voice tight.
“Almost never,” she said softly.
And damned if she didn’t sound proud of that little fact.
Standing here in the dark with her, Kevin wasn’t sure if he wanted to strangle her or kiss her. Either way would only lead to trouble though,