Last Virgin In California

So that left them square in the middle of “no touch” land.

Then she touched him. A simple touch, she leaned into him and laid one hand on his upper arm. Heat skittered through him, but he drew on every ounce of his formidable will and told himself to ignore it. It wasn’t getting any easier, though.

“It’s weird,” Lilah muttered more to herself than to her strong, silent type companion.

“What is?” he asked, but she had the feeling he didn’t really care.

“Being back on a base.”

“How long’s it been?”

Not long enough, she thought. But all she said was, “A year or so.”

“Why’s that?”

She slanted a look up—way up—at him. “Do you always talk like that?”

“Like what?”

Lilah sighed. “In short, three-to-four-word sentences. I mean you don’t say much and when you do, it’s almost over before you start.”

“You talk enough for both of us.”

She did tend to babble when she was nervous, she admitted silently. Which brought up the question of just why she was nervous. It wasn’t being on base. Or being around her father. Those things she was used to dealing with. She just plastered on a smile and went out of her way to point out her unsuitability herself to avoid having others do it for her.

An old trick, Lilah had been using it for years. Rather than wait for someone else to make fun of her, she poked fun at herself. Then everyone was laughing with her. Not at her.

So, if she wasn’t nervous about where she was…she must be nervous about who she was with.

Uh-oh.

“Hmm. Talk too much. Where have I heard that before?”

“From everyone you’ve ever met?” he asked, one corner of his mouth lifting.

“Wow.” Lilah stared up at him. It was truly amazing what that smile did to his face. No wonder he didn’t do it often. The bodies of women would be littering the parade deck. But she didn’t have to let him know that. “A smile. This is a real moment. Too bad I don’t have my journal with me, I could make a note of it.”

“Funny.”

“Thanks.” She laid one hand on his forearm and felt that jolt of heat again. Okay, she hadn’t counted on that. Instantly, she let her hand drop again and took a step back, just for good measure. Couldn’t hurt to keep a little distance between herself and the surprising Gunnery Sergeant.

“Well,” he asked, “if you don’t want the tour, what would you like to see?”

Before she could answer, someone shouted, “Gunny! Hey, Gunny!”

Kevin turned around and Lilah looked past him at the man hurrying up to them. Judging by his Smokey the Bear hat, he too was a Drill Instructor. He came to a stop in front of Kevin and spared her a quick glance.

“Excuse me, ma’am,” he said, “but I need to borrow the Gunny for a minute.”

“Sure,” she said.

Kevin frowned slightly. “Staff Sergeant Michaels, this is Lilah Forrest.”

The Marine’s gaze widened in surprise. “As in Colonel Forrest?”

Lilah nearly sighed. Happened every time she met one of her father’s troops. They looked at her, imagined him, and just couldn’t seem to put the two of them in the same family. But she’d long ago quit trying to be what everyone else expected her to be, so she just smiled at him. “He’s my father, yes.”

“Pleased to meet you, ma’am,” he said. His gaze swept over her and as he took note of the crystal around her neck and the silver chain around her waist and her boots, she could almost hear him feeling sorry for her father. A moment later though, he was all business, and turning his gaze on Kevin.

“I need your help tonight.”

“I’m off for the next couple of weeks,” Kevin told him and Lilah noticed for the first time how rough and gravelly his voice sounded. Must be from all the shouting the D.I.’s did at the recruits. But whatever the reason, it scraped along the back of her neck and felt like sandpaper rubbing against her skin.

“I know that,” Sergeant Michaels said. “But Porter’s wife is in the hospital. Their first one’s about to be born and I’ve got a busload coming in tonight.”

“A busload?” Lilah asked.

“Recruits,” Kevin told her with a glance over his shoulder.

“Ah…” Of course. She’d been around the Marine Corps long enough to know that when new recruits arrived at the depot, they arrived in the middle of the night. Bringing them in on a bus in the dark was sort of a psychological thing, she supposed. Kept them from knowing exactly where they were. Enforced the feeling that they were all in this together. Made them start looking to each other for comfort, for strength.

Because that was the whole point of boot camp. To take individual kids and build them into team player Marines. The military wasn’t exactly big on individualism. Which is exactly why she’d always had such a hard time fitting in.

Free spirits in the Marine Corps? She didn’t think so.

“You won’t have to do anything,” Michaels said, talking faster now, “just be there as backup.”

She’d never seen the recruits arriving and as long as she was here, it seemed like a good idea. “Can I come, too?” she asked.

Both men turned and glared at her.

“No.”

She pulled her head back and stared at them. “Why not?”

“You said you didn’t want a tour,” Kevin reminded her.

“That’s not a tour. That’s just observing.”

“No observers allowed,” he said.

“Staff Sergeant Michaels just asked you to be an observer.”

“He asked me to be backup.”

From the corner of her eye, she noted that Sergeant Michaels was watching the two of them with fascination. But she paid no attention to him. Instead, she concentrated on the huge man glowering at her.

“And if you’re not doing anything but being backup,” she pointed out, “what exactly will you be doing?”