By Request Collection April-June 2016. Оливия Гейтс
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we are,” Chase said, pulling open a door to a large building as Kate breathed in the enticing aromas of roast chicken and grilled hamburgers.
The dining facility was essentially an enormous cafeteria, complete with soup and salad bars, a drink fountain, separate lines for hot entrees or sandwiches, and one section for desserts. There must have been at least five hundred soldiers either eating at the long tables, or waiting in line, and the noise level was so cheerful and normal that Kate had a difficult time remembering that they were in Afghanistan. The air-conditioning was a welcome relief from the dry, dusty heat outside, and she wanted to slither to the ground and press her overheated skin against the cool tiles.
“C’mon,” Chase said, accurately reading her thoughts. “Let’s start you with a salad and plenty of fluids. Traveling can dehydrate you, and I don’t need you to become sick.”
He steered her toward the salad bar and, without asking her what she preferred, took a plate and began heaping it with salad greens and toppings.
“Is that for me?” she asked doubtfully.
“What?” he demanded. “You don’t like salad?” He ran a critical eye over her. “Looks to me like that’s all you eat.”
Kate grimaced and took the plate from him. “Trust me,” she said drily, “I can wipe out an entire container of Cherry Garcia ice cream in one sitting and still not feel satisfied.”
To her surprise, he laughed. “I’d like to see that.”
She stared at him, transfixed by the way his smile changed his face. His teeth gleamed white in the sunburned bronze of his skin, and she felt a nearly irresistible urge to press her fingertips into the deep indents of his dimples. His grin was so captivating that Kate had a ridiculous sense of pleasure that she had been the one to cause it.
“Well, maybe one day you will,” she found herself saying as she returned his smile. In the next instant, she realized he would never see her gorge herself on ice cream. She would only be in his company for the next few days, until Tenley arrived, and then she would likely have no more opportunity—or reason—to share meals with him. Or anything else, for that matter. She found the thought oddly depressing.
“When you’ve finished building your salad,” Chase said, “grab a seat at one of the tables over there. I’ll go get us something a little more substantial to eat. What do you like … chicken, beef, pasta?”
Turning, Kate studied the menu board at the front of the food line. “I’ll try some of the fried chicken. And mashed potatoes.”
Chase nodded. “Good choice. It’s kinda hard to screw up chicken and potatoes.”
Kate watched as he turned and walked away, telling herself that she was not admiring his ass. But it was an effort to drag her attention back to putting toppings on her salad. She was vaguely aware of the interested glances she drew from several nearby soldiers, dressed as she was in a turquoise blouse and white jeans. Finally, she pulled a bottle of water from a cooler and selected a seat in the far corner of the cafeteria, where it was less crowded.
She picked at her salad, keeping one eye on Chase as he moved through the line, piling a tray with plates of food. When he finally made his way through the cafeteria toward her, she noticed how several female soldiers turned to watch his progress. She couldn’t blame them. Major Chase Rawlins had a combination of good looks and an easy confidence that captured your attention and then held it.
He placed the tray on the table and began unloading the plates. Kate stared in astonishment at the heaping servings of fried chicken and mashed potatoes that he had chosen for her. But that couldn’t compare with the double helpings of two different entrees that he had taken for himself. And he had no less than three bottles of chilled water.
“Are you going to eat all that?” she asked, before she could prevent herself.
But instead of looking insulted, he merely grinned. “Oh, yeah. I’ve been surviving on MREs for the past two weeks. This is going to be sheer ambrosia.”
“MREs?” she asked, taking a mouthful of potatoes. “What is that?”
“Meals Ready to Eat, although some of the troops like to call them Meals Rejected by Everybody, or Meals Rarely Edible. They’re prepackaged meals in a pouch, designed to provide the soldier with all the basic caloric and nutritional requirements for one day. They’re basically field rations.”
“Not so appetizing?”
Chase shrugged as he dug into a plate heaped with baked ziti. “They do the job. I don’t pay much attention to what I eat when I’m in the field.”
Kate could well believe that. He struck her as the kind of man capable of intense focus. If he was on a mission, one hundred percent of his attention would be on his work, not on food. She could easily envision him skipping meals simply because he was too busy to eat. But right now, he made short work of his dinner, devouring it with gusto.
“So what is it that you do, exactly?” she asked.
He glanced up, and quickly wiped his mouth with a napkin. “The usual.”
Kate gave him a half smile. “Which is … what, exactly? You said you’ve been in the field for the past two weeks. What do you do when you’re ‘in the field’?”
Chase shrugged and took a long swallow of water, nearly draining the bottle. “A lot of nothing, actually.” He gave her a quick smile. “At least, nothing very exciting.”
He wasn’t going to give her any information, she realized, studying his bland expression.
“Is it normal for soldiers to grow beards? I thought there was some strict protocol about being clean-shaven.”
He smoothed his hand over his jaw, and Kate found herself wondering how his beard would feel against her skin. Would it be soft or bristly? If he nuzzled her neck, would he leave a rash? Disconcerted by the direction of her thoughts, she fixed her attention on her food, pushing it around the plate.
“Well, there wasn’t much opportunity for a close shave while I was out there,” he said offhandedly. “I got back to base just before you arrived, so not much chance to clean up, either. Sorry.”
“So how did you end up becoming my escort?” she asked, her curiosity getting the better of her. “I don’t know much about the military, but if I had to guess I’d say you were special forces. They’re the only ones who get to grow facial hair, right? So why would they assign someone like you to bring me to the different concert sites? I promise you I’m not dangerous.”
Chase stopped eating the second she suggested he was special forces, and listened to her with a combination of amusement and surprise. But when she said she wasn’t dangerous, he gave a soft laugh and muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like, “you have no idea.”
Now he sat back in his chair and considered her. “Okay,” he said, a smile still tilting his lips. “You’re right. I’m an Army Ranger, part of a special-operations unit. But my team screwed up on a recent operation and so here I am—” he gestured expansively with his hands “—anxious to prove to my commanding officer that I can complete this assignment without incident.”
“Ah,” she said, meaningfully. “So this is sort of like a punishment for you.” Leaning forward, she lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “I promise to be on my best behavior.”
“Uh-huh.” His voice said he didn’t believe her, but he couldn’t hide the dimples that dented his cheeks, evidence of his amusement. “If I can’t handle one woman, then I have no business being an Army Ranger.”
Kate laughed in astonishment. “Oh, wow. Be careful what you say. That just sounded like a challenge.”
Chase grinned. “Going to give me a run for my money?”
“I just might.” Kate let her gaze drift over him. She watched