Chapter ten

I finished my shower, put on sweatpants and a t-shirt, and joined mom and dad in the kitchen nook. The promised hot cocoa was delicious. Dad's generous dose of Bailey's Irish Cream made it even better.

I had a lovely evening sitting there with my parents talking about old times.

My family had moved to Bayport when I was fourteen and Joe thirteen. Before that we'd lived in the Big Apple. Dad was a detective for the New York City's homicide division. Mom had never cared for the big city and when dad decided to retire, mom saw it as the perfect opportunity for a change. She pushed the idea of moving to Bayport. Dad's sister, Gertrude, lived here so we'd be close to family mom had said.

Dad agreed to the move, but warned mom it would mean more time away from home for him. At forty-four, he had no intentions of truly retiring. He said he planned on opening a private detective agency which meant he'd have to travel from time to time. He might be gone a week or more sometimes.

Mom had said, "It'll be fine. Your sister will be living with us and she'll help me watch the boys."

Believe me, fourteen and thirteen year old boys do need watching. The mischief Joe and I got into was nothing bad, mostly harmless fun and games at the beach or someone's house. We did some underage drinking and a little drag-racing, but we managed to keep most of it hidden from mom and Aunt Trudy.

I studied my parents that night, how they interacted. The subtle nods, a gentle touch, a knowing glance, tender smiles and shrugs. They had a language all their own. Thirty-five years of marriage and they didn't have to say a word.

The hours slipped away. Soon, it was late, almost one, and I was tired. I wished my parents another thirty-five years of wedded bliss and headed off to bed.

Two cups of spiked hot cocoa had me feeling warm and fuzzy. I got to my old bedroom, didn't bother with the light, just stripped off my clothes, and collapsed on the bed. The dark and quiet were a welcome comfort. I closed my eyes and let my mind wander to the past.

"Take off your clothes, Frank."

Callie's voice, sweet and sexy, behind me. She wore only a bra and jeans. She hugged me around the waist and I felt her hands move up and over my chest. Her fingers searched for the buttons of my shirt.

We were in our studio apartment.

I helped her unbutton the shirt and she pulled it off my shoulders. It dropped to the floor and her hands traced the muscles of my back. A shiver rippled down my spine.

She hugged me around the waist again and pressed herself tight against me. I wrapped my arms around her.

I hadn't seen her in ten weeks and I missed her something fierce. Missed her scent, the feel of her skin beneath my fingers, the taste of her lips, the way she looked at me – like I was everything in the world to her.

Her hands slid up my chest. Basic training had added ten pounds of muscle to my six-foot-one frame. Drill Sergeant Mackey had promised us abs of steel by the time he was done with us. He'd made good on his promise and then some.

I could tell Callie liked what she felt. I closed my eyes and lost myself for a moment, lost myself in her touch, the feel of her body next to mine. She was pushing me to the edge.

We'd gotten married a month before I left for basic training and rented this studio apartment. I was home now, one week of leave, then I'd be gone for five months. More training, Military Police School at Fort Leonard Wood, Missouri. I couldn't imagine five months without her.

I ran a hand through her hair. My heart pounded in my ears and my blood felt like hot lead.

"I've missed you so damn much," I said.

"I've missed you, too." Her voice was low and husky.

I pushed her hair off her shoulder. Let the silky strands spill through my fingers. I kissed her. I was going for tender and romantic. She returned the kiss then pulled back and gazed at me. Her eyes seemed to lose focus, or perhaps they were focused on everything – me .. us .. the moment .. our near naked bodies rubbing against each other.

Her hand caressed me down south. A dangerous move. And then I realized she wasn't interested in tender and romantic. Guess it had been a long ten weeks for her, too.

Tender and romantic came later, in round two.

Callie and I spent that week reconnecting, reaffirming our love.

I hated leaving her again. It killed me to see her so sad. I was leaving her alone again and hated it. But still, I was excited about my training. Military Police School was the reason I'd joined the Army. Once the school was over we'd be together. No more separations.

That's what we told each other. Five months and then we'd be together … forever.

I was gone seven and a half months that first year. Not the best start to a marriage.

While I was in MP School, Callie got a job as a cashier at the hardware store, the one where Rob works now. Was he there back then? I never checked. Some things are better left unknown.

Sleep finally won the battle and I drifted into the dark void taking bittersweet memories with me.