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Shrugging, she said, “I don’t know… I need to seriously think about this.”
“How long do you have before you have to give that cowboy your decision?”
“Today.”
“Humph.”
“What would you do?” Willow respected her friend’s insights. And as crusty and belligerent and totally flippant as Dev could be, based upon the rough childhood she had barely survived, Willow knew she could trust the woman to be honest.
“Tell Lockwood no. You don’t need Porter back in your life. Hell, Willow,” and she gestured around the room, “this is the biggest assignment that has ever been handed by Delos. And this new thing isn’t a little one. It’s huge and damn near, in my opinion, unfair to put on our shoulders. We’re friggin’ pilots, not warehouse managers. We’ve been put in the position of renting a warehouse, dealing with General Hakym’s people, begging for security from them, and then? We gotta find a decent place to put ALL these security and construction people coming in. They all have to have an apartment where they can live while on this mission. The logistics on this are death-defying to me. I’d much rather be flying my C-130 at a thousand feet and be above all this shit rather than slog through it with waist-high waders daily like we have been doing the past few months. The run-up to that C-41 landing and knowing we were going to have to find housing for thirty people, has been brutal.”
“Yeah,” Willow said, rocking a little in her squeaky chair, “it’s been pretty sucky. I don’t like it either, but hey, we signed on undercover to Delos to serve. So? We’re serving, but not in a way we want too. Life’s like that, you know? You never get good stuff all the time. The bad is mostly what we get on a daily basis.”
“No argument there,” Dev muttered, sipping the last of her coffee, staring at the grounds in the bottom of the mug. “And Porter is TROUBLE with a capital T. You know that. You’ve told me what happened in that WrestleMania you had with him. The guy is a brick. He will NEVER change.”
“Well, I was a brick, too,” Willow conceded with a sour smile. “We were young, arrogant, full of ourselves and we thought we knew everything. We were both immature as hell. And we weren’t willing to compromise or give in to the other person. We both had egos the size of Mt. Everest back then.”
Dev gave her a wide-eyed look. “And you think that’s changed in him? A man? Really?”
Willow laughed a little, seeing the derision in Dev’s gaze. “Probably not. But I don’t know. The last year, Shep’s emails have been, well… kinder… maybe more sensitive, thinking of someone other than himself. That’s matriarchal, you know: putting your partner first over yourself? Maybe he’s learning how to share and compromise?”
Snorting, Dev rose and rolled her eyes. “He was NEVER sensitive toward anyone! You think he’s really changed that much?”
“Haven’t you changed in the last three years?” Willow asked mildly, seeing Dev’s face scrunch up like a sour grape.
“Hell no. I like myself just the way I am.”
Willow snickered and said nothing. Her friend had changed over the last year she’d been with her. She didn’t dare say that she was softening with age. Maybe Dev didn’t see or recognize it, but Willow did. But then again, Willow had always been more self-aware than most people. Except when it came to Shep Porter. Damn, but he’d been the best sex she’d ever had. He was an incredible lover. Those times of tossed sheets and tangled toes had been the ONLY moments he’d been sensitive toward her; wanting to please her as much as she wanted to please him. Willow could never figure out why their kindness, their love and passion for one another, never translated beyond the bedroom door. It was like they became different people whenever the sexual haze of need enveloped them versus the way they were together in their everyday combat world. She could never figure out the Jekyll-Hyde changes they made between the two of their realities. “Well,” she said, lifting her empty cup in Dev’s direction, “grab me another as well when you go get yourself a refill? Thanks.”
“That’s the easiest thing I’ll do today,” Dev grumbled, grabbing her cup.
What to do? Willow felt her heart stir, which surprised her. She was over Shep Porter. Did she enjoy the email jpeg photos he’d send her maybe once every couple of months? With some text that was not rabid, defensive or in some way trying to intimidate her? Yes, she always felt mildly uplifted when she saw his email and photos appear. He was big on photos because, as a civil engineer, he was always taking his digital camera out at some construction site or another and snapping pics for the work logs. He was meticulous and careful, and she knew he was a damn good manager of his military construction team.
She had seen through his snapshots, bit by bit, that the people who worked under his authority loved him. Well, she’d fallen in love with him too. At least, in the bedroom. Outside of it? Hell reigned. And why? Why? Willow could never figure that out as much as she tried. Shep was a good person with a good heart or she wouldn’t have fallen for the guy in the first place.
When they came together outside the bedroom? It was like throwing oil on a fire. It was explosive. And Willow didn’t like fighting. She fought enough as a combat pilot in the air. She didn’t need it on the ground after she landed.
She pushed away the red tendrils that lurked at the corners of her eyes and cheeks and tucked them behind her ears for the hundredth time today. They wouldn’t stay there long, however, because of how thick and naturally wavy her hair was. Her hair was like her; it had a mind of its own.
Dev came back, setting the mug of steaming black coffee in front of her.
“Tell me you’re not seriously contemplating letting Porter back into your life?” She sat down, tucking one leg beneath her body once more.
“I am,” Willow admitted, seeing Dev’s eyes go wide with shock.
“Why?”
“Because this is about more than us as ex-husband and wife. I hope I’ve matured and grown enough to look at the bigger, more important picture.”
“Which is?”
She smiled at Dev’s disbelief. “Which is why did we even start working undercover for Delos in the first place? It was to be of help somewhere in the world. To stop the suffering. Right?”
“Yes, that much I’ll agree with you on.”
Willow knew Dev’s childhood had been an unmitigated nightmare. Her father, the sick sexual predator he was, had started fondling Dev from six years old onward until she was ten, when she’d fought back. Softening her voice, Willow said, “We both know that other people have helped us when we’ve been knocked to our knees, Dev. And because we’ve personally had that experience, we want to turn around and help others. We know what it’s like to be abused, disrespected, and seen as little more than sub-human, less important than a goat or donkey in third world cultures. Maybe not in the same way these third world countries do, but we understand enough through our own experiences.”
Mouth quirking, Dev said, “Yeah, you’re right. So? You’re really seriously contemplating letting Porter come here?”
