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"FNG?"
"Freaking new guy." Sometimes it took real effort not to swear, but he'd given that up along with the military.
"Thanks for the translation. Think I heard that one from Craig too, but I couldn't remember it." William frowned. "What did Jim do this time?"
"Sent me to Coffee and Cars thinking Erin was a man."
He laughed. "I think he's pulled that one on everyone. And Erin is about as far from a man as you can get."
"Yeah."
William sobered and looked at him again, head slightly tilted.
The staring was freaking Ryan out a bit. It was also giving him time to calm down and think about what he'd almost done. His stomach churned. He'd almost decked a sixty-something-year-old guy who could barely work with all his medical issues. His shoulders tightened. "Guess I over-reacted. Sorry."
William leveled a serious, narrow-eyed look at him. "Just a little. Glad I was here, or you might have ended up in jail for assault, if not manslaughter. I'm not too sure Jim would survive a hit like that." He paused again, then frowned. "So far, you've taken all of his crap pretty well. Why now?"
Shoot. "I know Erin Moore." Weak excuse. He was dirt. Lower than dirt—desert sand.
"From the Service?"
"Yeah."
"And?"
"And she's had a rough time and shouldn't be the butt of some jackass's jokes." "Rough time" didn't begin to cover it. It was devastating—for all of them. Ryan trembled and clenched his hands on his thighs, trying to stop the shaking.
"Hmm. I know she lost her husband in Afghanistan. Is that what you're talking about?"
"Yeah." He hunched.
"Was there more to it?"
"Yeah. I can't talk about it." Won't talk about it. Don't want to talk about it.
"Okay." William nodded, lips pursed. "Look, you get a pass this time. I know Jim can be a real pain, but he knows his stuff, and he needs the health insurance. Can you work with him? He won't know who you knew in the Air Force."
Ryan took a deep breath, then blew it out, trying to regain control. "Yeah, I can do that. Look, I know I completely over-reacted. Coming face to face with Erin, with no warning, was bad." He scowled. "Guess I owe Jim an apology too."
William shook his head. "Don't bother. He's been riding you hard. Now maybe he'll remember that actions have consequences." He snorted. "Eh, probably not; Jim never learns." He pointed a finger at Ryan's chest. "But you pull something like that again, and I'll fire you on the spot. Understood?"
"Yeah. Sorry." Ryan couldn't stop shaking, but he kept eye contact.
William's mouth twisted. "Stay here until you've got it under control. I'll tell everyone to leave you alone." He stood but stared down at him. "Unless it's better to have someone here? I can ask Craig to hang out with you."
He was too perceptive. "No, it's better if I'm alone. Thanks." Craig didn't have a clue; he'd been in the military but never deployed, let alone to Asscrackistan. Lucky guy. When the door clicked, Ryan dropped his head into his hand. He'd learned to get all the emotions out, rather than try to hold them back. No sense in making everything suck more.
But instead of pain, he remembered the first time he saw Erin Moore. He was a shiny-new Airman, working in the gigantic C-17 cargo plane hangar on a bright, sunny and—unusual for Anchorage, Alaska—downright hot day. Ryan smiled. The entire crew was moaning about the heat. Technical Sergeant Moore told them to shut their traps because it was way better than Iraq or Afghanistan. He'd been over there plenty, so he knew.
Then she sauntered in, and it got real quiet.
Erin wore a bright yellow sundress, tight on the top and tied behind her neck, hugging her perfectly. The skirt flared out, but the material was thin and wrapped around those very long, very sexy legs. She broke into a run, right toward him, an enormous smile on her pretty face, long red hair waving behind her. Ryan thought he'd died and gone to heaven until she launched herself at Sarge, kissing him like there was no tomorrow.
Ryan chuckled. Clearly, he'd been caught in a fantasy.
Erin gave the Sarge something he'd forgotten at home and walked away with a swing in her step. The Sarge caught them all staring, but he didn't yell. He laughed like they were the funniest thing ever. He wiped his eyes and said, "There are many women out there, but this one is mine. Get your own!" in a parody of the Marine Rifleman's Creed.
After work, the guys filled him in. Mrs. Moore used to be Airman Murphy, public affairs. While deployed in Afghanistan, she'd done a story on C-17 operations, interviewing then-Staff Sergeant Moore. They'd hit it off right away and gotten married six months after returning to Elmendorf. Erin left the Service at the end of her commitment.
