Chapter 4: Camp Lejeune, North Carolina - July 2013
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One month later...
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Fuck.
Teylor froze, momentarily blocking the entrance to their usual Friday night hangout. Jones, walking closely behind, immediately crashed into him. Despite the repeated assurances of Frankie apparently-talking-out-of-his-ass Benz that Carolina Green was six states and seven hundred miles away in Connecticut, she was not only in the State of North Carolina, but she was here. In Jacksonville. In this bar. Standing less than thirty feet away playing pool and sipping on a Diet Pepsi.
"What the hell..." Doug began, but Teylor ignored him in favor of moving quickly into a corner of the shadowy room, hoping against hope that Caro had somehow missed his entrance.
Grumbling an apology, Teylor wondered how quickly he could make his escape without raising eyebrows. It wasn't that Teylor hadn't had his share of awkward morning after run-ins. There was, for example, the time when he was nineteen that he managed to sleep with an ex-girlfriend's new roommate and ran into the ex while searching for coffee the next morning, resulting in a scene of such epic proportions that the police were called. But such incidents were largely in his past now and, when he did hook up, he tried to make sure that things ended on a friendly note.
With Caroline Green, however, remaining friendly was not an option, something that she made abundantly clear when he texted her a few days after their disastrous conversation in an attempt to smooth things over. Her response had been pointed, not in a complimentary way, and taught Cruz a new curse – something that he didn't know was possible given that he was fluent in two languages and could carry a conversation in a third. Somehow he doubted that time would have changed her mind, a belief that was reinforced when Frankie appeared at his side.
Shoving one of the beers he held in Teylor's hand, apparently his version of an apology, Frankie glanced over his shoulder in Caro's direction. "So, turns out that the Wicked Witch elected to make a surprise trip to see brother dearest this weekend. I would keep my distance if I were you. She practically frothed at the mouth when I mentioned your name. What did you do to piss her off anyway?"
Jones glanced between the two men, cleared confused. "I don't remember anything happening. I didn't puke on her shoes did I?"
Teylor shook his head in the negative. Jones's intoxication had provided the perfect cover for Teylor's activities that night, the man still passed out drunk when Teylor arrived back on base pissed off. Upon waking the guy had immediately – albeit incorrectly – attributed his buddy's black mood to the vomit on the bathroom floor, an assumption that Teylor never bothered to correct.
"Can't be that," Frankie replied. "She's pissed at Cruz, not you."
"Aren't you the one always saying that she's completely irrational?" Teylor retorted, hoping that Frankie wouldn't press the point. Omissions were one thing but outright lying...
Frankie chuckled, taking a large gulp of his beer. "Good point. She hates me because she thinks that I'm trying to get rid of Green's girlfriend."
"You are trying to get rid of Green's girlfriend," Teylor pointed out.
"True, but she doesn't know that. She just suspects it." Frankie grinned. "Anyway, watch yourself. That pussycat has claws."
Teylor shot a glare at Jones as the man chuckled at Frankie's terrible joke. "Don't worry, I'll keep my distance."
"I don't think she's seen you yet," Frankie offered before disappearing, presumably back to the pool tables where Caro was currently kicking Berchem's ass. Jones said something but Teylor ignored him as he made a beeline for an empty table at the back of the room.
Maybe, just maybe, he could actually get out of this night unscathed.
Two hours later, having watched the SEAL team leave ten minutes prior, Teylor found himself finally relaxing. Despite catching sight of him while she and Rebecca made a trip to the bathroom, Caro had not acknowledged him in any way. Although the snub stung slightly, Teylor suspected that it was about the best he could hope for. Trying to catch the bartender's gaze at the crowded bar, Teylor felt a hand touch his arm.
He turned to find a petite blond dressed in a pair of skin-tight jeans and a halter top perched on the barstool next to him. Not really his type, but more than passably pretty. He wasn't surprised to get a glare from the young sailor sitting on her other side. The girl smiled, sliding one of the beers that the bartender was setting down in Teylor's direction. "That one is for you."
The bartender raised his eyebrow at Teylor, the question clear. "I'm good."
Lifting the glass, Teylor took a sip before turning his attention back to the blond. "Thanks. You here with friends?"
"All by myself," the blonde replied, her voice gravely. "You?"
"Unfortunately for you, no." A sharp voice interjected, grabbing the beer that Teylor was holding and downing it in two long swigs. Caro gave the blonde one more look before turning her fury on Teylor. "Time to go. Now."
His jaw tightening, Teylor considered refusing. After all, he wasn't here with someone and if he wanted to chat up every damn woman in the place, he had every right to do so. But then he caught Jones' eye, noting the terrified look on the other man's face, and he remembered who he was dealing with. Teylor might disagree with Benz on some points, but the SEAL was right about one thing. Pissing off Caroline Green was not a good idea.
"Fine, let's go."
Glancing at the woman at the bar apologetically, Teylor followed Caro outside and away from the crowd, hoping that word of this wouldn't get back to Green or Benz. He let her drag him almost an entire block before digging in his heels. "Where the hell are we going?"
"The DuPont," Caro replied without slowing her stride.
Hurrying to catch up – it was late, after all, and he didn't want Caro out here alone – Teylor tried to figure out why they were headed to her hotel. "Why?"
At that Caro stopped, turning around with her hands on her hips, giving him a look that told him quite plainly how idiotic she found the question. "Because I'm pissed at you. So we can do two things. We can fight or we can fuck. Take your pick."
Teylor watched, confounded, as Caro stormed down the street. But, as his eyes fell to her ass, which fit delightfully into her jeans, he knew that there really wasn't much of a choice.
And damn it all, Caroline knew it too.
