Major Attraction (14 page)

After the door clicked shut, Travis sat on the edge of the desk, leaning into Ethan's line of vision. “Problem?”

“I hope not.”

“You sure? You've got that look—like your gut's trying to tell you something. And I trust your gut more than most men's facts when it comes to sensing trouble.”

Ethan looked into those silver McCormick eyes that reflected the tension he felt. “You know me, I'm just being thorough.”

“Yeah, I know that about you. Well, whatever it is, make sure you include keeping an eye on Captain Black.” Travis stood and made his way toward the door again. “There's something about that guy I don't like.”

Ethan followed to see him out. “You mean beyond the fact he brownnoses to a fault?”

Travis looked over his shoulder and grinned. “Drives you nuts, too, huh?”

“Totally. But he gets his job done. I can't complain there.”

“It just seems like he knows more about things than
he should.” Travis stopped with his hand on the doorknob. “I'll bet he could get the lowdown on that Dr. Cyn if you put him to the task.”

“Suppress the enemy by any means necessary?” Ethan shook his head. “I'm afraid he'd enjoy it too much.” The two men shared a laugh. “Let me talk to Craddock first. Maybe this will all blow over.”

Travis agreed. With a couple of playful punches to Ethan's shoulder, he abruptly changed the subject. “Hey, when am I gonna meet this sexy fiancée of yours? I want to welcome her to the family before her two weeks are up.”

“Very funny.”

“I could give you better advice if I got to know her better.”

And expose her to the hipper, handsomer brother who'd had more female conquests than ribbons on his chest? Ethan opened the door for him and gave the smart-ass a well-deserved shove into the outer office. “Not gonna happen.”

Until he could figure out where he stood with J.C.—where he wanted to stand—Ethan wouldn't risk the competition.

 

“C
LASSIC
D
R
. C
YN
!”

With arms open wide, Lee Whiteley greeted J.C. at the elevator doors before she even got to the
Woman's Word
suite of offices. Lee wrapped J.C. up in a hug and danced back and forth, forcing J.C. to either join the excitement or get trampled.

“You're selling papers, girl,” Lee praised. “The readers are eating it up!”

When J.C. got a chance to blink her spinning world back into focus, she tugged down the hem of her white
blouse and offered her editor a wry smile. “I told you they might be controversial. So you liked the articles I sent in?”

“Liked? Oh, sweetie, your sarcasm's showing.”

Lee linked her arm through J.C.'s and strutted through the office doors into the reception area. Today her editor wore a hot-pink velour running suit that clashed with her orange-red hair. The rings on all ten fingers were gold with gaudy cubic zirconia, and her eyes sparkled just as brightly with triumph and pride.

“The phone's been ringing off the hook all morning, and orders for tomorrow's issue have doubled. I knew it when I dreamed it.” She splayed her fingers in the air, picturing an imaginary marquee. “
Love with a Military Man.
It was a fantabulous idea, and you've delivered.” Lee stopped at the front desk. “Isn't that right, Benjamin?”

“Absolutely.” The dark-haired college intern with the chunky build and intelligent gleam behind his thin oval glasses looked up from the note he was writing on his palm data organizer and smiled. “Morning, J.C. Looks like you're a hit.”

She'd earned that same compliment last night. But it surprised her to realize she'd taken more pride as J. C. Gardner in pleasing Ethan and the committee than she did in knowing her alter ego had created a media sensation with her outrageous opinions and realistic philosophy about love and relationships.

“Good morning, Ben.”

A buzz on the headset phone he was wearing demanded his attention. He doffed her a two-fingered salute to excuse himself and answered the call. “
Woman's Word,
the place where everything women want to talk about gets talked about. This is Ben. How may I help you?”

While Ben chatted with the caller, Lee reached behind the counter and pulled out a metal file basket filled to the brim with phone messages. “Ben's been entering these and printing them out on the computer all morning. These are all for you, lady. Some good, some bad, and—sorry to say—a couple of ugly ones.”

“You're kidding.” J.C. dropped her purse beside her feet and picked out a handful of messages to sort through. “All these are for me?”

“For Dr. Cyn. I told you military heroes were a hot topic.”

They were pretty hot in the back of a limo, too—though J.C. wasn't quite ready to share the intimate details of her
engagement
to Ethan. She'd spent a restless night, alternately wishing he'd accepted her invitation to stay the night in her apartment and berating herself for wanting so much from him so fast. Was she no different than the women who'd thrown themselves at her father? Seduced by the striking uniform and fit, able body underneath?

The second-guessing still plagued her. Not just because she might have to concede to Lee's assertion that military men made irresistible lovers. But she would have to rethink the harsh judgment she'd passed against her father. Not that she was ready to forgive him for hurting her mother and abandoning them both once his duplicity was uncovered. But maybe the temptation hadn't all been one-sided. Earl Gardner might not have actively pursued every woman he ran across. Maybe he just hadn't been able to say no if a woman came on to him.

“It's overwhelming, isn't it?” Lee's sympathetic prod brought J.C. firmly back into the moment. “I can't imagine what your e-mail's going to look like. People are a whole lot braver when they can write down a question or opinion and send it over the Internet than they are if they
have to talk to a live person like our college wiz kid here.” She winked at Ben. “Isn't that right?”

He gave her a thumbs-up and reached for his data pad.

J.C. thumbed through the messages. “Looks like there's enough information here for a dozen columns.” She stopped at one. “Here's a retired Air Force mechanic who says he's been happily married for over forty years. He credits his wife for keeping them together and always giving him a reason to come home. He says he hopes others can learn from their example.”

“Isn't that sweet,” Lee concurred, her eyes turning a little misty. “Sounds like my Bobby.” Just as quickly, a twinkle danced in her eye. “I think I'm going to win that bet. These readers are calling in to tell you they've had perfectly happy relationships with a military partner.”

“I'm not handing over the money just yet,” J.C. challenged. She held up another slip. “Listen to this one. This guy says he's cheated on his girlfriend more than once—every time he gets shipped to a different camp. He wants to know if he should tell her.” She filed that one in a told-you-so pile. “He probably expects her to stay faithful at the same time he's out ‘getting acquainted' with the new neighbors.”

Lee's jewels glinted in the fluorescent overhead lights as she waved off the lothario with the guilty conscience. “Pooh on him. He could be a traveling salesman and have a problem keeping it in his pants. The uniform's not an excuse for fooling around on his girl.”

It had been the excuse Earl Gardner had used.
It gets so lonely when I'm away from you, Mary Jo.
was the explanation for his infidelities he'd given J.C.'s mother.
You have to understand a man in my position has needs that have to be satisfied. You can't expect me to do with
out for six months and still perform my duties to my shipmates.

J.C. had once read a quote by an admiral stating that every job on board a ship was vital to the safety and well-being of crew and country. Apparently no one else could fill the cheating jerk-face position on board if Seaman Gardner wasn't
satisfied.

Clearing the memories with a bone-deep sigh, J.C. quickly moved on to someone else's trouble. Her heart went out to the woman who'd left the next message. “This one's a young mother with three small children who hasn't seen her hubby—or had sex—for over a year. Says I'm right on the money about the loneliness of her relationship.” She'd been that small child with an absent father. Her mother had been that virtually single parent. “It doesn't seem fair.”

“The services all have help groups and counselors she could contact for assistance,” Lee argued.

“I know. I looked up sources on the Internet this morning. I even called some of the local recruiting offices. They were happy to give me numbers for area support groups.” J.C. arched her brow. “She's staying true to her man, though. She wants to know what kind of sexual aids I'd recommend for a woman in her position. That's definitely something I'll address in my column.”

“With three small children I'd settle for a baby-sitter and a nap.”

J.C. laughed out loud, along with Lee, until Ben shushed them. He returned his attention to the caller. “No, ma'am. For liability reasons, Dr. Cyn doesn't answer questions over the phone. We encourage you to write a letter or contact her Web site if you'd like to express an opinion or ask for advice. Or I can take a message. Of course.”

While Ben worked, Lee took J.C.'s arm and pulled her into her office. Once the door was closed behind them, she urged J.C. into a seat and hurried around the desk to her own overstuffed chair. “Enough about Dr. Cyn. I want to hear about J.C. How's the personal research going?”

“What do you mean?”

“Trolling for military hotties. Did you meet some? Talk? Touch? I told you they had hot asses, didn't I?” Funny. J.C. hadn't gotten around to checking out Ethan's backside, but if it was built anything at all like the front, it would be magnificent. Not knowing made her instantly curious to see him again. In the daylight. From every direction. She considered all the possible visuals just long enough for Lee to get suspicious. “J.C.?”

She allowed herself half a vampish smile. “Well, I did meet someone.”

“Aha!” Lee waited several impatient seconds. “And?”

“And we're seeing each other.” J.C. put up a protesting hand when Lee clapped. “For a little while,” she clarified. “He has no expectations of anything long-term, and neither do I.”

Lee sank into her chair with a sigh of dramatized disappointment and clutched at her bosom, jangling rings against necklaces. “Are you giving this thing a chance?”

“A chance to what? He's a Marine—married to the Corps. Don't get me wrong, I appreciate that kind of dedication when it comes to national security. But I want a man who's going to be there for me when I need him. A man whom I can count on to come home to me after work, and trust not to be tempted when his job keeps him away from me.”

She sat up straight on the edge of the chair, feigning
confidence that all her training had helped her separate reality from a fantasy life she couldn't have and shouldn't want.

“I'm enjoying the fling for what it is—a little sex, a little research—but I don't expect anything more out of it.” She pointed a reprimanding finger at the older woman. “You shouldn't, either.”

Lee tutted a mother-hen sound between clenched teeth. “I'd like to meet this guy and see what makes him such a selfish jerk.”

“Ethan's not a jerk. I didn't say that.” The instantaneous instinct to defend the major was a sobering reminder that she did want that fantasy life. But that didn't mean she believed it was going to happen. She consciously softened her tone. “He's giving me an opportunity to spend a lot of time with other military couples—”

Lee's forehead crinkled with delighted surprise. “Oh?”

“I don't mean like that! He does just fine on his own, thank you very much.” Uh-oh. Revealing too much. Lee leaned forward, her hazel eyes sharp, seeking more juicy details. J.C. steadied her reaction with a deep breath. “I mean, it's like going undercover to observe and ask as many questions as I want, but my heart's not going to be broken when he leaves me.”

Lee crossed her arms with a huff and sat back in her chair. “Do you hear yourself?”

J.C. shrugged. “What? I'm being realistic.”

“‘When he
leaves
you'? You don't believe in romance, do you, honey?” Lee came around the desk, sat on the arm of J.C.'s chair and put a comforting hand on her shoulder. “It's plain as the nose on your face that some man hurt you somewhere along the way. I used to think it was all your degrees and unhappy clients that had inured you to the possibility of finding your own man. But now
I see it's nothing clinical at all. You're nursing an old-fashioned broken heart.”

“I am not.”

“Then why don't you give this Ethan a chance to win yours?”

Kindness softened Lee's expression beneath her garish makeup. This wasn't about winning a bet. The gentle challenge in her mentor's eyes was about wanting something good for someone she cared about.

But J.C. refused to answer. Giving Lee's hand an appreciative squeeze, she stood and excused herself. “I have a lot of work to do. I'd better finish going through those messages.”

“He got under your skin, didn't he?”

J.C. stopped at the door.

And under her dress and into her pants and halfway into her…

J.C. didn't even want to consider the end of that thought. Her heart was off-limits to any man in uniform. She wouldn't be hurt the way her mother was. The way she'd been hurt before.

Maybe if she denied any emotional connection out loud, her brain and heart would wise up and believe it, too. She turned and faced Lee with a conciliatory smile. “I'll admit that Ethan's a great kisser—in a class by himself, even. I'll admit we had sex and that I'd do it again. I'm looking forward to doing it again.