Soldier In Charge: Ripped!

“Ah, Dugan. I knew I could count on you.”

Damn.

At the same time, McElhaney raised his hand. “I can handle that assignment, sir.”

“Thanks, McElhaney, but Dugan beat you to it and you’ve got some training issues you need to address.” Hardwick looked back to Mitch. “You seem to have a rapport with our visitor so I’m sure you’ll handle this with your usual efficiency.”

Volunteer his ass. This was obviously a we-expect-more-from-you-than-base-gossip reprimand. It sure as hell wasn’t anything he would’ve truly volunteered for but it was obvious the woman needed a keeper. That much had been apparent when she’d kissed him in the hall. He was going to take a boatload of shit for this, but it was also sweet to knock McElhaney out of what he’d wanted. “Yes, sir.”

“You’ll report immediately to Public Affairs following this briefing. Consider yourself on-task.”

“Yes, sir.”

He’d had some ball-busting, gut-clenching assignments since he’d been in the Army and certainly since he’d earned his green beret. This, however, had all the makings of a clusterfuck.

Chapter Three

EDEN SAT IN AN OFFICE SIMILAR to other military offices around the globe—she should know, she’d been in enough of them. Her nose twitched in recognition. There was a smell particular to a U.S. military installation, whether it was Hawaii or Germany or North Carolina.

“So, you want to locate the candidates yourself?” Sergeant Sanchez said, after glancing down at a file.

“That’s right.” It wasn’t as if this was new information. Eden had reviewed the process on the phone with the Public Affairs liaison and then again when she’d met with them after her late courtesy call to battalion headquarters. Despite that conversation, they’d insisted they’d present her with calendar candidates. She’d been equally adamant she’d select her own. Because her way wasn’t Army protocol, she’d been shifted to someone else. And then someone else again. Now, it was Sergeant Sanchez’s turn to deal with her. Surely the third time was a charm—and they were burning daylight.

“Sergeant, I’m a professional photographer by trade. I specialize in people—in knowing who and when to take a photo. It’s what I’m trained to do.”

Sanchez looked up from his paperwork, his brown eyes crinkling at the corners. “So, I don’t tell you how to take a picture, and you don’t tell me how to run my mission.”

Yes! Finally, someone who understood something other than protocol. “That’s pretty much it.”

“How about we coordinate a schedule?”

It’d probably unnerve him if she broke into the Hallelujah chorus so she contented herself with saying, “You are a god among mere mortals.”

On the other side of the green metal desk, Sanchez grinned. “I just need to fill out a couple of forms.” He checked his watch. “And we had an escort lined up for you, a Captain Gibbens. Unfortunately, she went into early labor last night. We’re waiting on her replacement.”

Her hopes of getting this wrapped up in three days were becoming slimmer by the minute. She bit back a sigh and pasted on a smile.

“Oh. I hope everything turns out well with the baby.” And with luck, they wouldn’t send her another nine-month pregnant escort. Eden’s neighbor had given birth last year and the woman hadn’t been exactly full of energy in her eighth and ninth month. Eden couldn’t imagine that Captain Gibbens had been looking forward to hunting down subjects and then working through photo shoots. Eden supposed it was too much to ask that they simply turn her loose unattended on base.

She noticed a framed snapshot of a dark-haired, dark-eyed toddler and a blond woman on Sergeant Sanchez’s desk. “Your family?”

He nodded, practically beaming with pride. “My wife, Liz, and Cassie, my little monster. She just turned two.”

“She looks just like you.” While Sanchez’s hair was close-cropped and the little girl boasted a head full of dark ringlets, her face was a mirror image of his.

“I know. Poor kid. She was born while I was on my last tour in Iraq.”

“I’m sure you couldn’t wait to get home to see her.”

He grimaced. “I wanted to see her but I got sent home a little sooner than I expected.” He lifted his left arm and for the first time Eden noticed a prosthetic hand. “Compliments of an insurgent IED, uh, that’s improvised explosive device in civilian terms, also commonly known as a homemade bomb.”

She knew exactly what an IED was and she hated it that he’d had firsthand experience with one. “I’m so sorry.”

“Hey, I’m lucky. At least I made it home and I get to see my kid every day. I think this calendar…well, some of the guys in our unit who didn’t make it home…they had kids, too.” His eyes were somber. “Thank you.”

She liked his spirit. Even in the face of having lost a limb, he saw his cup as half full. She felt both humble and grateful in the face of his sacrifice on behalf of his country. She wanted to offer something in return, even though it didn’t begin to compare. “I’m going to be here for a few days. If you’d like, I could photograph your family.”

“For real?”

“For real.”

“They’re in New Mexico now—Liz’s sister just had a baby—but they’ll be back in a couple of days. Liz would be thrilled. Thank you.”

“We’ll do it maybe Thursday or Friday. I’ll be free in the evenings.”

She felt like an utter heel that she’d ever been resistant to shooting the calendar in the first place. This guy had lost a hand in service to his country and she’d whined about having to be on a military base for a handful of days? And now he was thanking her. “And you’re very welcome.”

The sergeant continued filling out one of the myriad forms but looked up with a grin, as if he was eager to move on to lighter conversation. “Spotted any calendar candidates yet?”

“I haven’t really had a chance to scope things out. I’ve spent my entire morning being shuffled from one office to the next.”

“That’s the military for you—hurry up and wait.”

Sanchez was friendly and outgoing. Now seemed the perfect time to inquire about the man who’d knocked her off her feet earlier. “Do you know a Lieutenant Colonel Dugan?”

“Yes, ma’am.” A ready grin spread over his face. “I heard you met him earlier.”

On base, gossip traveled faster than a speeding bullet. “We ran into one another.” She answered his grin with one of her own.

“You’ve got guts. The Lieutenant Colonel can be sort of intimidating.”

Dugan was hard, but not unkind. She’d seen enough of both kinds of people to recognize the difference.

“Is he married?” She shifted back in her chair and brushed a speck off of her skirt, her heart thumping like mad in her chest. She hadn’t noticed a ring but lots of married guys didn’t wear them—especially guys who went through combat training where a ring could prove to be a hazard.

Sanchez grinned. He so had her number. “Not married. I don’t know about a girlfriend though.”

Relief rolled through her and she realized just how tense she’d been, waiting on his answer. “At least I won’t have an angry wife looking me up.”

“That’s always a plus. My wife would go ballistic.” He shook his head as if it was a scary thought but the affection in his voice spoke volumes. “And I take it you’re not married?”

“No. No husband at home.” Ha. She couldn’t even find a guy she wanted to date on a regular basis. Unlike a lot of the women she knew, she wasn’t husband hunting. She liked her house, her job and her own company. And most of all, she liked her independence.

“There are lots of guys who’ll be glad to—”

A sharp rap on the door interrupted Sanchez.

In one of those real-life-was-stranger-than-fiction moments, Lieutenant Colonel Dugan himself entered the office.