Even disguised in his commanding officer’s voice, the warning signals firing off in Travis’s head couldn’t get through the static of full-blown desire that was short-circuiting every common-sense impulse in his body.
Tess was wrong. He wasn’t laughing. And he sure as hell wasn’t thinking of her as his sister!
This girl was a natural. Every move he made, she answered back with her lips and a chorus of hot, sexy moans that hummed in her throat. He wanted her closer and she’d obliged. No, she’d taken charge with innocent abandon, crawling on top of him, spreading her knees beside his hips, rubbing her breasts against his chest and sinking that white promise of satisfaction against his throbbing groin.
He dragged his lips to her throat to taste the drumming beat of her pulse beneath his tongue. “Trav—” she gasped, arching her back and inviting his lips into the unbuttoned gap of her shirt.
Retreat, soldier! Retreat!
But his mind was lost in the moment—lost in his reawakening sense of power, of virility. He was lost in a woman—his old friend, Tess. And he suddenly knew his life would never be the same again….
Dear Reader,
As my brother headed into a war zone for the second time in his life, I found it difficult to get started on this story with a wounded military hero the way I’d originally envisioned it. But after some introspection (and good talks with my family and the families of other military personnel—you guys rock!), I decided the focus wouldn’t be on the thrills and dangers inherent in such a career—though that still plays a key role in the story—but rather on the joys and challenges of coming home after being in the action.
Many military spouses, parents, siblings and children I spoke with talked about how some things never change when a loved one is away, serving his or her country, while other things change greatly. Expectations must be flexible, and often family members and service personnel must adapt to new roles while apart, and again when reunited.
Dealing with such changes became the focus of Basic Training. Tess and Travis have returned to the town where they grew up—and on the surface, it seems like old home, old friends, old times. But they soon realize that she’s no longer just the girl-next-door, and her Marine Corps hero is more than the hunky best bud he used to be.
I hope that readers can feel the happiness, pride and relief of family, friends and community welcoming home one of their own. I also hope you’ll enjoy the journey as Tess and Travis evolve into their new roles—deeper, bolder, sexier and closer than two friends have a right to be.
Happy reading,
Julie Miller
For the 110th Engineer Battalion.
Prayers and pride for those soldiers and their families.
And for my favorite Captain, in particular, be smart,
watch your back and take care.
Love you.
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
TRAVIS MCCORMICK had come home.
“Travis,” Tess Bartlett whispered. She tucked her suitcase into the closet of her old bedroom and hurried to the window to see with her own eyes the return of the conquering hero.
He’d come so far. Been through so much.
Tess was almost ashamed to admit that she’d barely ventured away from the homefront. After college, one thing after another had seemed to draw her back to Ashton, Virginia. She’d come home when a cancer scare had left her widowed mother feeling vulnerable and alone. Then, she’d done her physical therapy internship here and stayed on when the hospital had offered her a generous salary to become a member of their staff.
She had her own apartment, her own career. She had old and new friends who were an integral part of her life. And when push came to shove, she could even finagle herself a date on a Saturday night.
But in one way, Tess had never moved on. Tess had never shared a bond with anyone, not even her sister and mother, like the one she shared with Travis. She’d lived so much of her life vicariously through him. He was a military hero with skills and knowledge she could only guess at. As a Marine, he’d traveled the world. Fought beside the bravest warriors and strategized with the best military minds.
And yet she’d always, always believed he was glad to come back to Ashton to see her, his little buddy Tess.
Over the years of their friendship, he’d confessed triumphs and tribulations that were their secrets alone. He never hesitated to offer a hug or a wink or a smile. He’d stood beside her and taken the heat when their youthful practical jokes had gotten them into trouble. And she’d stood beside him and listened and held his hand when that strong United States Marine hadn’t been quite strong enough.
Would their friendship take up where they’d left off before he’d been called up for a covert assignment more than a year ago? She was thrilled that he was finally coming home to Ashton after spending most of that year in a hospital and therapy. But she knew he wouldn’t be thrilled that he’d been injured while training for that mission—before ever shipping out overseas.
Despite the circumstances, was he looking forward to reconnecting with an old friend for a few weeks as much as she was?
Hidden by the glare of the afternoon sun off the water from Chesapeake Bay, Tess peeked through the curtains of the second-story bedroom window in the house where she’d grown up, next door to the McCormicks’ bayside colonial. She and her older sister, Amy, had timed their annual summer get-together with their mom to coincide with the U.S. Marine Corps captain’s homecoming. They were all invited over that evening for a welcome-home party, but Tess couldn’t wait that long to see him with her own eyes. She couldn’t wait to reassure herself that the boy next door—her classmate, teammate, and longtime friend—had finally come home after a full year.
She was thirty-three years old, had known Travis for more than half her life, and she still couldn’t stop that little hitch in her breath each time she saw him. Damn the man. He was that good looking. Each reunion stirred her blood—as if she were discovering that well-sculpted hunk of testosterone for the first time. Discovering those clear blue eyes, that sexy crop of dark blond hair hugging the perfect shape of his head, and those shoulders broad enough to lead men and seduce women with equal success.
Tess closed her eyes and diligently ignored the heated rush of hormones that tripped along her pulse. She and Travis had been friends for far too long. She knew his taste in women—everything from busty and mysterious to slim and flirty. Blondes, brunettes, redheads all qualified—just as long as they weren’t afraid of their sexuality, and weren’t hung up about the whole commitment thing.
Tess opened her eyes on a frustrated huff. She might as well enjoy the view because that’s all she’d be getting. No way in hell did she qualify as more than a friend to Travis. They’d shared just that one awkward kiss in college—and fortunately, Travis had been too drunk to remember it. Her inability to turn his head was probably why they’d been able to remain such good friends over the years.
First, the word sexy simply didn’t apply to her practically-proportioned body, which was better suited for softball than seduction. Her bland hazel eyes and generic brown hair had never turned heads. Even with contact lenses to halt the nickname of “Four Eyes” from high school, and a few golden highlights to give her ponytail some pizzazz, she still oozed smarts and sensibility—not sex appeal.
Second, her sense of humor and reliability, which made her a trusted ally when it came to pulling off practical jokes and keeping secrets, made her a dud in the come-hither department. Back in high school she’d learned that sweaty shortstops and salutatorians didn’t get asked to the senior prom if they lacked the boobs or legs or feminine mystique to compensate for an error-free season and nearly perfect GPA.
And third, in a small town like Ashton, Virginia, once you got labeled with a reputation for being a brainiac or tomboy or good ol’ gal, you were stuck.
Tess had been stuck for fifteen years.
“Hey, Tess. You upstairs?” Ah, yes. Her big sister, Amy, had much nicer labels. She had managed to get the right blend of genes to allow her to be smart, accomplished and sexy. Of course, she also wound up with the gene that allowed her to marry a real loser, and now the newly divorced school teacher had returned to her roots as much to heal from the nasty breakup as to support the Bartlett women’s summer tradition of helping out at the festival. “Tess?”
Tess drew back from the window as if the call might alert the McCormicks to her subtle spying. “In here.”
But she couldn’t walk away. Not until she saw for her own eyes that Travis was alive. That the bomb that had shredded his body hadn’t killed him. That his handsome mouth could still smile and those devilish blue eyes could still sparkle with mischief.
Tess answered the soft knock at her door without turning away from the scene visible through the lacy sheers at her window. “Come on in.”
“Getting a sneak peek before tonight’s festivities?” Amy asked, curling her long legs beneath her as she perched on the corner of Tess’s bed.
“I’m just anxious to see Trav,” Tess admitted, watching Travis’s father, retired Brigadier General Hal McCormick, climb out from behind the wheel of his silver Chevy Suburban and stride up the sidewalk to the front door. Even at age 60, with a dusting of silver in his short blond hair, the man’s military bearing was unmistakable. “The last time I talked to Travis in the hospital, he told me not to come visit. Said he’d be home soon enough.”
Amy frowned as she joined Tess at the window. “What was that—two, three months ago?”
“Try six.” She hugged her arms around her waist, trying not to feel the lingering sting of his rejection. “He’s been out of the hospital since then, but I doubt he’d be in Ashton now if he hadn’t finally been ordered to take some R and R. Hal said he’d been working a desk job, but that Travis was so gung-ho about getting back to his Special Forces unit and whatever mission they were prepping for that he overdid his physical training and actually set back his recovery.”
A pretty, perky brunette Tess identified as Travis’s sister-in-law, J.C., climbed out of the backseat and opened the back of the Suburban to retrieve a couple of suitcases. J.C.’s husband, Ethan McCormick, followed right behind her in his khaki and olive green lieutenant colonel’s uniform. He took both suitcases from her. She snatched one back. The argument that flared briefly between them ended with a perfunctory kiss. And then another, lingering this time. Then one more that lasted long enough for Amy and Tess to sigh in unison.
“You know, I always thought that at least one of us would wind up with a McCormick.” Amy crossed her arms to match Tess’s stance. They both giggled as Ethan’s independent wife let him have the suitcase he insisted on carrying, but then pulled another bag from the car and scooted around him to follow Hal before Ethan could stop her. “We’ve lived next door to those two hotties for how many years? Now I’m divorced from Barry Can’t-Keep-His-Pants-Zipped, and you’re…”
Doomed to spinsterhood? Sentenced to celibacy?
Amy pursed her lips, searching for the right word to finish her sentence. “Unattached.” Her brown eyes were full of honest regret as she looked down at Tess. “You know I don’t mean anything by that, right? You could have any man you wanted if you stopped listening to what the busybodies in this town have to say and just set your mind to it. Mom said you’d been dating Morty Camden,” she added hopefully.
“Sure. Rub salt in an old wound. Morty might be the one person in town who’s getting less sex than I am.”
Her big sister didn’t seem entirely relieved that Tess had made a joke of it. “But sex isn’t the only reason to go out with a guy, right? He’s a nice guy, isn’t he? Doesn’t he run his own business?”
“He’s nice enough,” Tess agreed. She was having a hard time picturing Morty’s earnest face and receding hairline as she waited for Travis to emerge from the vehicle below them. “He has his own accounting firm. But he’s just a friend. Basically, we’re each other’s escort whenever something comes up.”
They served together on the same committee that organized the fishing competition and other events for Ashton’s annual Summer Bay Festival. Slated to start the following Monday and run the first full week of July, the festival drew in tourists, locals and a slew of sailors, Marines and soldiers from nearby bases for a celebration both on and off the water of Chesapeake Bay. Her “dates” with Morty had been little more than friendly business meetings. The closest they’d come to bodily contact was a little hand holding and a few high-five’s.
But Tess didn’t elaborate. Ethan had closed the rear hatch and was circling the car now. Leaning forward ever so slightly, Tess peered through the slit in the curtains. “Don’t you think there’s something a little too big-brotherly about Ethan and Travis for us to get involved with either of them?”
Man, she wished she believed what she’d said. But she’d lusted after Travis for too many years. And that one collegiate kiss had confirmed that brotherly wasn’t really the way she felt about him. But it was the way she had to feel. He was her best bud. And since he’d never see her in any other way—not while sober, at any rate—
“I don’t know. I dated Ethan that summer after high school—before he took off for Annapolis.” Amy’s husky sigh left Tess wondering just how far those dates had gone, and whether she was the only Bartlett with lust in her heart.
“Did you and Ethan ever do it?”
“Tess!” Amy’s flawless skin darkened with a rosy blush.
Tess pointed an accusatory finger, but she was laughing. “Tell me.”
Her sister tucked her thick, honey blond hair behind her ears and bought some time before she answered. “Even back then, Ethan was all about being a Marine. As sweet and smart as he was, he was saving himself for the Corps. I don’t think he would have jumped my bones even if I had USS Amy tattooed on my boobs.”
Tess narrowed her gaze. She wasn’t getting the whole story. “But you blushed. You’re holding back.”
Amy arched a golden eyebrow in that mystery-woman expression that men found so irresistible. Tess had tried to duplicate the same maneuver for years, but could only manage to arch both brows at once and come off looking more like Larry, Curly and Moe than any femme fatale. “We never went all the way. Let’s just say, he scouted out the ship.”
“You rat. So…how was he? Is Ethan a good kisser?” Maybe it was a family trait.
Amy’s wistful smile gave the answer before she spoke. “J.C.’s a lucky bride. And not just because he’s such a stand-up guy.”
“So, are you okay with Ethan marrying someone else? Do you wish things had been different?”
“You mean do I wish I’d married Ethan instead of Barry?” Her resolute sigh spoke volumes. “It wasn’t in the cards for Ethan and me. The chemistry just wasn’t there—not like it is with J.C. Even at eighteen, we were smart enough to know we made better friends than we’d make lovers. On the other hand, I had chemistry up the wazoo with Barry. Sex was always great with him. Of course, apparently, it was also great with all the other women in his life.” She hugged her arms around her own waist as she shared a painful nugget of hard-won wisdom. “I needed Barry to be a better friend.”
Tess had already suspected as much. “So you’re saying that you can’t mix the two—that a man can’t be a great friend and a great lover?”
“It’s been impossible for me.”
Maybe Tess held her sister’s gaze a moment too long and gave something away. By the time she’d turned back to the window to spy on Travis, Amy was wrapping an arm around her shoulders.
“That was my experience, kiddo. I’m sure it’s different for other men and women.”
Not for her. Tess had more male friends than she could count. She hadn’t had a lover since…oh, crap…had it really been three summers ago? A forgettable one-night stand with a visiting soldier she’d met in a bar during the Bay Festival. Yikes. How trite.
At that time, she’d been thinking way too much about Travis’s kiss and wondering why no other man’s passion had ever equalled that one, perfect, stupid night. Maybe over the years, she’d idealized what had almost happened between them. So instead of wallowing in what-if’s and why-not’s, she’d thrown caution to the wind and jumped into bed with the eager soldier. Ugh. So much for life on the wild side. She hadn’t seen any action since.
Big sis gave Tess a stern shake. “Hey. The right man is out there for you—one who can flip your switch and you still trust him in the morning.” She peeked out the window. “Who knows? Maybe he’s right under your nose.”
Tess scoffed. “Travis?”
“Why not?” Amy shrugged. “Since I’m currently off men at the moment, and Ethan went and found his own woman, that means it’s up to you and Travis to finally bring the Bartletts and McCormicks together.”
“Yeah, right. You just said men and women can’t be friends and lovers.” Tess managed to smile. “Hal hired me to be Travis’s physical therapist while he’s at home. I’m not his dating service. I’m sure once the ladies of Ashton hear that the ‘Action Man’ is back in town, they’ll be lining up with chicken soup and skimpy negligees, ready to fulfill his every need.”
Amy reprimanded her little sister with stern brown eyes. “Hey. Don’t sell yourself short. I’ll bet Travis or Morty or a dozen other men in this town would love to see you in a skimpy negligee.”
“Two problems with that scenario,” Tess insisted. “One, I don’t own anything skimpy, and two—”
But she never got to the joke about how she knew more about making chicken soup than seducing a man.
Instead, she pulled the curtain aside and held her breath as Travis unfolded himself from the backseat of his father’s car—with Ethan’s help. She frowned as the green camouflage uniform stiffly straightened itself to take the shape and form of the man whom she’d always cared so deeply about.
Travis was a leaner, harder version of his more muscular brother. The athleticism that had fine-tuned his body for battle was still evident, but his balance was off. Travis hauled himself up by the car frame, plopped a cloth cap over his short, burnished hair. Then he held on to Ethan’s arm while he retrieved something from the backseat.
A cane.
“Poor Travis,” Amy whispered in sympathy. “I had no idea.”
Tess’s hand fisted around the edge of the curtain, betraying the concern and compassion that gripped her chest just as tightly.
Once he was free of the car door, Travis shook Ethan off and proceeded up the driveway to the front door under his own power. But Tess’s sharp eye for physical weaknesses and pain could tell that, despite the unwavering set of his shoulders, Travis was relying heavily on that cane. His left leg was stiff—probably from the long drive from the Quantico military base near Washington, D.C. And she suspected that if he didn’t have the hardheaded determination of the Corps drilled into him, he’d be limping.
That perfect body had taken a few more hits than she’d been led to believe.
He wasn’t even smiling.
Whether playing a joke, flirting with a woman, or striking out a batter, Travis McCormick almost always smiled.
Splaying her fingers against the glass at her window, cool from the air-conditioning, Tess reached out to her friend. Ashton’s hometown hero had come home, all right. But he hadn’t made it in one piece.
“Trav,” she whispered, her warm breath close enough to fog the glass.
Travis paused on the front sidewalk, almost as if he’d heard her soft plea.
By the time he turned and looked up, Tess had swiped the pane clear and ducked away from the window, letting the curtain fall back into place. Somehow, it seemed wrong to be spying on her childhood friend and longtime hero when he wasn’t feeling up to snuff. He’d always been so strong. So sure of himself. So perfect.
Tess retreated another step, pulling Amy with her toward the center of the room. “Did you come up here for a reason?”
She had to change to subject, focus her mind on something else, before she ran downstairs and across the yard to see Travis face to face. To hug him, touch him, ensure with her own two hands that his body hadn’t been damaged beyond repair—and that the scars and weakened leg didn’t mean that his fighting spirit and wicked charm had been wounded as well.
“Mom wanted your opinion on the cake she’s baking for tonight. She said you’d know Travis’s tastes better than either of us. Does he like chocolate? White?”
“Lemon.” Travis had always had a taste for food with a little attitude. Just like his women. “He’d want a lemon cake.”
At least the old Travis would. Now she was beginning to wonder how much of the old Travis still existed—and wonder how she could help heal this newer, harder, humbler version of the man who had always been her best friend.
“I’ll tell her.” If Amy had any inkling of the turmoil spinning inside Tess’s head, the only sign was the teasing tug on her younger sister’s ponytail. “Come on down when you’re done unpacking. We could use your help before the party. Mom’s fixing enough food to feed the entire town.”
Tess nodded. “I’ll be there in a sec.”
By the time Amy left and Tess dared to return to the window, Travis had gone inside the house with his brother.
She’d been patient for twelve long months, ever since she’d first gotten the news that he’d nearly died in that accident.
He was hurt. He was her responsibility as his therapist. He was her friend.
Screw waiting until tonight.
Tess tucked her T-shirt into her denim shorts and dashed down the stairs.
“Tessa, I need…Where is that girl going?”
“Give her a few minutes, Mom.”
Her mother’s and sister’s voices were cut off by the noise of the screen door slamming behind her. Tess jogged across the lawn separating the two houses, and tucked a few stray waves into her ponytail as she slowed to a walk to climb the steps to the McCormicks’ front porch. She knocked, then fixed a grin on her face as Hal McCormick answered the door.
The older gentleman’s welcoming smile reminded her of her late father, who had died the same year Hal had lost his wife to cancer.
“Hey, Hal.”
“Tess Bartlett. Come here.” He scooped her up in a bear hug and set her down inside the tiled foyer of his home. “Is it girls’ week at the Bartletts’ again? I swear, Tess, you look prettier every time I see you.”
She waved aside the compliment. “And you’re more full of the blarney every time I see you. Did you have a good trip?”
He shrugged. “As good as could be expected. You and your family are coming tonight, right?”
“We’ll be here.” She let her gaze scan up the stairs to the second floor where Travis’s old bedroom was located. Surely, with his injured leg, they’d prepared a room downstairs for him. But she didn’t see anyone else moving about. “I know I’m early. And I promise I won’t stay long. But I saw the car and wanted to welcome Travis home. I’ll give him a hug, then get out of your hair so you guys can rest up.”
“He went to the guest room, and I don’t—”
A king-size belch, starting deep and covering a variety of pitches, dramatic in its longevity and loud enough to tickle her funny bone, erupted from the back of the house. An instant later, Travis materialized in the archway leading to the kitchen, holding a can of soda.
Tess grinned and gave him a thumbs-up. “Nice one.”
Clear blue eyes swallowed up her seeking gaze from across the room. “I’ve been practicing.”
“Travis Harold McCormick. There’s a lady in the house.”
She’d never envied Travis and Ethan for getting the double whammy of a superior officer’s tone and a father’s voice rolled into one. But the McCormick boys didn’t seem to mind.
“It’s cool, Dad. It’s just Tess.” He downed the last of the soda and reached around the archway frame to set the can on a counter. “Hey, T-bone.”
Tess shook her head at the goofy nickname, but her eyes never wavered as she studied him from head to toe. The killer smile was still there, bemused and sexy, even if it looked a little ragged around the edges. But there were other subtle changes. There was a gauntness to his chiseled features that hadn’t been there before, a tension, a maturity. And a wash of pale beneath his golden tan indicated that the deepening web of lines beside his eyes had more to do with stress and fatigue than with time spent outdoors.
“Keep it short, son. The doctor said you need to get off that leg as soon as possible.” He held up a stern, paternal finger. “And mind your manners.”
“I’ll make sure he follows orders, General.” Tess smiled with reassurance.
Hal gave her a wink, then excused himself from the foyer.
“Good to see you.” Travis had tossed his hat onto the living room couch beside his cane, and with a nonchalant defiance, he closed the distance between them. The stiff set of his jaw told her what it was costing him to hide his limp without the aid of his cane.
Tess hurried to meet him halfway.
“It’s good to see you, too.” Her words caught in a strangled whisper as she fought the sudden tears burning in her throat. “Welcome home, Captain.”
She reached up to touch the tight lines of strain beside his mouth. She brushed her fingertips across the pale pink scars that lined the left side of his square jaw and dotted his neck. She caught his chin and turned it from side-to-side, inspecting every mark.
The eyes were as blue as she remembered, the nose the same sharp blade. The amusement on those firm, flat lips was genuine. “You just gonna stare?” he teased, spreading wide his welcoming arms. “Or am I gonna get some action?”
Exhaling a cry of relief, she rose up on tiptoe and kissed his smooth, angular cheek. Then she threw her arms around his neck and squeezed him tight.
Riding the deep breath that filled his chest, Tess held on as Travis wrapped his arms behind her waist and lifted her off the floor. She squeezed her eyes shut and buried her nose in his collar. He smelled of soap and hospital and the starch in his uniform. Intoxicating. Worrisome. Strange yet familiar.
“Couldn’t get a good enough look through your window?”
His teasing voice rumbled against her ear, and Tess was suddenly aware of how tightly they held each other. How distinctly non-platonic this felt. Her nipples beaded where her small breasts pillowed against the hard plane of his chest. Her cotton T-shirt and his canvas uniform couldn’t mask the heat seeping from his skin into hers.
Or maybe she was the one whose body temperature had suddenly soared. “You saw me?”
He laughed out loud as she squirmed away, sliding down his body and creating a friction that sparked every nerve with an embarrassing hyperawareness.
Travis reached out and cupped her blushing cheek. “I saw the curtain move. I remembered all the times we sent messages back and forth between our upstairs bedroom windows and put two and two together. Nice to know you’re still lookin’ out for me.”
“I’m going to be doing more than that, Trav.” She retreated another step to gain some much-needed distance. “I’m in charge of your therapy while you’re here.”
The smile vanished. “Therapy? I’m on forced R and R.”
“Your physical rehabilitation. Starting Monday.” She shoved her hands into her pockets, wondering at the rapid cooldown in Travis’s mood. “I’m a licensed therapist, remember? I work with sports injuries, accident victims, stroke patients, wounded veterans.” She shifted back and forth on her feet. Travis was damn near glowering now. “You dad told you, didn’t he? I’ve read the reports from your doctors and have outlined a recovery plan that should have you back to Quantico in four to six weeks’ time. All we have to do is set up a schedule that’s convenient for you.”
A glimpse of the tough, six-foot, two-inch, Special Ops Marine surfaced as he leaned in. Leaned over her. All traces of the familiar camaraderie he’d greeted her with were gone.
“You’ll be waiting by your phone a long, long time. I’m here for two weeks, tops,” he insisted. “And if I wasn’t concerned about the strain on Dad’s heart from worrying about me, it’d be less than that.”
Tess stood there and gaped, absorbing his anger, wondering at its cause. She curled her hands into fists at her side, unsure whether she wanted to slap him or hug him at his outburst, but knowing neither touch would help right now. “Look, Captain, I was only trying to help give you what you need.”
“I know what I need—and it’s not being stuck down here in Podunkville for six weeks while the Corps forgets about me. So unless you’ve got some miracle up your sleeve that can get me back on the front lines with my unit, there isn’t going to be any rehabilitation.”
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