“You’re right… And being here offers unique perks that my office and room don’t,” I say calmly.
Then I start picturing her in my room and desperately need the beer. She studies my face for a second too long, something shifting in her eyes as they darken slightly. Her fingers fidget with the edge of her apron, a nervous tell she doesn’t quite hide. After a quiet breath and a blush I’d give a lot to understand, she turns away to get my drink. I watch her go.
She adjusts her shirt at the hip, the movement unconscious, and I take in the view without apology. Every curve is soft but unmistakable, delicate and confident at the same time.
I feel drunk on the admiration that linger in her gaze, the mix of simmering heat and softness, like she’s struggling to make sense of being around me. We’re in the same boat as far as that’s concerned. I rub the back of my neck, trying to cool my temperature to a reasonable degree.
Hailey keeps her distance until I finish the paperwork and settle in to enjoy my soda. I notice her talking to a few guys. There’s something in her eyes that makes me want to walk over there and test her theory that my presence will keep them at bay, but then she laughs. She snorts lightly, but doesn’t hide it which nearly tugs a smile to my lips.
I settle back in and in another minute she’s with me, checking in. “Everything good?” I incline my head. She glances at the empty chair next to me. “You’re alone ninety percent of the time I see you.”
“Are you judging me for that?”
“Maybe a little,” she teases. “Or maybe I’m wondering why.”
“Wondering,” I repeat.
“It’s a nice way of asking if that’s by choice or consequence. You can be intimidating, you know.”
“Not that intimidating if you’re here,” I say, slowly looking her over before I catch myself. “It’s both.”
“Then others are missing out – based on my opinion.”
“How was your day?” I ask, trying to get her talking rather than sharing about myself.
She smiles. “Busy—but good. Lots of conversations. Less checklists.”
She pauses. “What about you?”
“Meetings. Training schedules. Paperwork as you saw.”
She settles into the chair across from me, her foot brushing my calf as she crosses her legs. “Nothing interesting at all?”
Just my constant impulse to see you then sit right here watching you turn the mundane into magic, baby, I think. The words don’t touch my lips. They never do. They’re indulgent and I won’t follow through on them. I can’t.
“Hailey …” I hesitate, then clear my throat.
“Are you close to anyone on or off the base?” She asks.
“My parents. My sister. Michael and I are friends.”
“Michael’s friends with everyone. I don’t just mean people who call you by your first name either,” she teases.
“You’re very interested in me,” I point out.
“You’re worth being interested in. I think there’s something under that uniform and that practiced stoic expression,” she hums. “I feel it when we talk. Is that one way?”
Is she asking if I’m interested? Is this some kind of coded conversation I don’t entirely understand?
“If I didn’t enjoy our conversations, I wouldn’t be here, Hailey,” I finally answer.
She smiles, that slow, shy way that worms deep into my heart. When she looks at me from under her lashes and leans forward, enveloping me in her scent and her eyes, I grip the pen like it’ll be enough to chain me in place. Whatever she’s going to say is going to be another blow to my restraint.
“Break’s over, Hailey,” Melissa calls. “Want another soda, Captain?”
“No, thank you,” I reply.
Hailey pushes to her feet and heads back behind the bar while I finish my drink. When I set the glass down, she takes it from me—but doesn’t immediately turn away.
