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Rylie
I’ve been tuningout my father’s voice for the last five minutes.
“Rylie, are you listening to me?”
“Yes, of course.” I give him one of my trademark smiles, displaying the perfect teeth he spent a fortune on. “I didn’t know Ethan had a child,” I say and garner an eyeroll. Anything to distract him from the ferocious persuasion of pushing me into joining the military.
“You were away at school, weren’t you? No reason for you to be informed. Now – about this meeting.”
“Yes, I know, with the recruiting office.”
How did I not know that Ethan was a dad in all the years he’s been around, my father’s only real friend? I drift off to more interesting topics.
“Rylie!”
“Yes, Dad.”
“And?”
“And you expect me to go and give it my full attention and consideration, Sir,” I say, in a masculine military voice.
“Don’t mock me, Missy,” he barks, pulling out a business card and handing it to me. “The date and time are written on the back.”
I glance at it then push it into a pocket. “Shit, Dad. I’m not joining the army. I don’t know why you—”
“Language, Rylie,” he says. “Especially here. I expect you to be an example of respect. Some of my men and women are barely out of high school.” He sits behind his large desk and points to a chair.
Obediently, I sit. “I’m sorry, Dad. It’s not that I don’t respect you, but I’m not joining the Army.”
“That’s your final answer?” he says. He appears almost sad when I nod.
“But, the job market—” he tries yet again.
“Yes, I know.” I wish there were more opportunities for recently graduated attorneys, but there aren’t. Besides, I haven’t passed the bar.
Yet.
I only failed it once. It’s harder than it seems, but I’m studying furiously, with all my free time. I have a lot of that right now. Nothing is lonelier than a recent graduate, still unemployed and living on a military base. Especially with an unwritten rule that officer’s daughters are strictly off-limits.
Three loud raps on the door interrupt my thoughts.
“Enter,” my dad says.
He’s Lieutenant Colonel Cole to everyone else, his voice commanding and powerful. He frequently forgets I’m his daughter and not some random Private to be ordered around like an untrained puppy. I have to remind him on a daily basis that I’m not ‘Property of the United States Armed Forces.
Oh crap.
The door throws back and before I compose myself, heat blasts into every pore of my face. I must look like a fresh halved watermelon.
“Sir, excuse me, Sir,” Major Ethan Hayes says, as he approaches my father’s desk. “Good afternoon, Rylie,” he adds, walking past me with a brief glance. His eyes lock on mine for a mere fraction of a second and my whole body stiffens, like this soldier could give it any command.
I nod, unable to speak. My mouth instantly turns into the Mojave Desert. I want to say something witty, like ‘it is now’ or ‘it can be if you’re free later’ but I remain silent because I know that would sound childish. My pulse quickens and I realize I’m staring. Is my mouth hanging open? Shit, it is.
Fuck, he’s just so impossibly gorgeous. He should be on the covers of magazines instead of defending badass military personnel from court martials.
Ethan is tall, broad shouldered, muscular, that much is obvious. But what really gets into my mind, like a splinter I can’t extract, are his ocean blue eyes and that dimpled smile.
