His Plaything(29)

Avery cracked up, squirming against me until I couldn't help but laugh, too. Over her furious giggles, I heard my phone buzz. I pulled it out of my pocket. Not recognizing the number, I answered with a cautious, “Hello?”

“Chief Petty Officer Nixon Bennett?”

Avery fidgeted away from me and I realized that my back had unconsciously gone ramrod-straight. There were some officers whose sheer rank you could hear over the phone, and this was one of them. “Yes, sir. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Relax, son. This is Captain Harry Sutherland—”

Captain Sutherland? As in, the leader of the entire Naval Special Warfare Group ONE? The man who oversaw a quarter of all the Navy SEALs in existence? Wondering whether I should be shitting myself right now, I almost missed what he said next.

“—and I'm calling to inform you that you're being awarded a Silver Star.”

It took me a moment to un-swallow my tongue. “Excuse me, sir?”

“For your performance on your last mission in Syria.”

I licked my suddenly parched lips. “That mission succeeded because of my teammates and support staff, sir. Whatever I've achieved, I owe it all to their hard work.”

A dry chuckle. “That's a good line. Make sure to include it in your acceptance speech.”

There was nothing to say to that other than, “Thank you, sir.”

“Your flight to Arlington departs from NAS North Island at oh-seven-hundred hours tomorrow. A Navy car will pick you up in front of your provided address at oh-six-fifteen. You'll return by twenty-hundred hours on Saturday.”

“Yes, sir.” Despite the elation that threatened to choke my voice, I couldn't help thinking that this was terrible timing. Of course I was over the moon—this award was the third-highest decoration for valor in the whole fucking U.S. military, after all—but I also hated to leave right when Avery and I had finally made some real progress. We wouldn't even be able to spend much of tonight together, since I had to be ready for action in less than eleven hours. Oh, well. Duty calls … not like I can tell the Pentagon to hold off until I've locked down my woman situation.

“I'm sure I don't have to remind you that SEAL business is never publicized, even in the case of military honors. Your team commander and your platoon leader have already been notified, and we'll handle the press in our own way, so you can consider yourself under a gag order until further notice.”

Forgetting he couldn't see me, I nodded as I replied, “Understood, sir.”

“Good. Have a nice day, son—and congratulations.” Click. Dial tone.

I hung up, still a little dazed, and Avery snuggled back into my side. “What was that all about?” she asked. “I could feel your heart pounding.”

“Uh … ” Even if the details weren't classified information, I would have been reluctant to tell Avery much; I didn't want her getting all starry-eyed over the whole real-life hero thing again. “I have to go out of town tomorrow morning. Really damn early.”

Her grip on my bicep tightened. “Are you being deployed again?”

“What? No. It's just for a couple days. I'll be back by late Saturday night.” I squeezed her and kissed the crown of her head. “I'd tell you more, but … Navy business. You know.”

“Yeah, I understand.” Her tone was resigned—not happy, but not hurt, either. She knew better than to press for details. What was more, she knew I was married to my job.

But I'd be damned if I let Avery feel like second fiddle. I gave her another squeeze, then got up. “Since we were talking about food … I have to go pack real fast, but after that, you want to make dinner?”

She stretched and let out a squeak. “Sure. What were you in the mood for?”

“You,” I said, lowering my voice into a purr. Then I added in a normal tone, “But beef stir-fry with rice is an acceptable runner-up.”

“Hmm … ” Instead of laughing or sticking her tongue out at me, Avery looked slyly thoughtful. “Food first.”

“Does that mean you for dessert?”

“Maybe. Now go get ready for your big secret mission, Major Pervert. I'll start cutting up the vegetables.”

“That's Chief Petty Officer Pervert to you, civilian,” I called as I headed into my bedroom. I quickly folded my dress whites and a few pairs of socks and boxers into my suitcase, already suppressing a grin of anticipation. I seemed to be smiling a lot these days.

After an early dinner and half a movie, we went to bed. But we didn't sleep. I was more than willing to give up an hour of precious shut-eye to hold Avery tight, rocking inside her until she trembled and muffled her moans against my neck. Our slow, languid press of skin on skin felt an awful lot like making love.