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this.  Do you happen to know where she went tonight?
 Well, no& but, a pretty young thing like her is probably out on a date. Why, back in my day, I d a
been discoing my ass off every night.
He couldn t help but grin.  Are you heading out to the disco, then, Mrs. W?
She laughed her rusty chainsaw laugh.  God bless you, no. I had dinner and went to a movie with
some of the bunco girls, including Loretta. They re downstairs at my place, finishing off the after-
movie cheesecake. Want me to say hi for you?
Loretta was Mrs. W s best friend, and his CO s wife. With nothing but the offhand offer, Mrs. W
had just reminded him of the short distance between his personal life and his job.  Sure Mrs. W.
Have fun.
 You too, Michael. Have a nice night. She stuck the plain, white envelope under Chloe s door and
then went down the hall toward the stairs.
He ran a hand through his hair and turned back to his apartment. Where would you go if you just
got fired? He d never been in the situation, but something told him he d want a drink. Around here,
that generally meant the Stars & Bars Roadhouse. He grabbed his keys and headed downstairs to the
carports, not missing the fact that his back didn t bother him at all. The realization compounded his
guilt. She d healed his back, and his ego, and he d gotten her canned.
The drive to the Stars & Bars took no time, but parking proved more of a challenge. The place
drew a crowd on Thursday nights mostly young marines and a decent sprinkling of girls from San
Clemente and surrounding communities to keep the GIs hopes up. Tonight the warm breeze and clear,
starry sky had them spilling out onto the raised porch spanning the front of the wood-shingled
structure. The crowd didn t hinder his ability to spot Chloe at twenty paces. Her hair glowed like
copper under the porch lights. She perched on the porch rail, holding a margarita, and gesturing
sloppily at some grunt whose puffed up chest and perma-smile clearly said he couldn t believe his
luck.
Michael walked over until he stood directly below her.  Hello, Chloe.
She swiveled her head to look down at him. Her body swayed perilously.  Major Hottieeee! Hey.
Long time no see. D you know Dillon? She splashed her margarita at the young, clean-shaved marine
standing beside her.  Dillon from Amadillo. Texas born, jus like me.
Dillon blushed and nodded.  Amarillo, sir.
 Tha s what I said. Call him Armadillon,  cause, look. She reached out and knocked her knuckles
against the kid s abs.  Hard. Just like an armadirro& an amarilla& an armadillo whew, she rolled
her eyes heavenward and laughed,  I shudda tested that one out before I used it in a sentence& oooh,
look at all the stars out tonight.
A light breeze ruffled the hem of her white skirt, so it fluttered around her dangling legs. To call her
 trashed would be an understatement. She couldn t focus for shit. She slurred her words, and she
was about two minutes from passing out, throwing up, or both.  Chloe, he said quietly and waited
until her spinning eyes made a long, meandering circuit back to him.  You re headed for a fall here.
You plan to take that kid down with you  he pointed at Armadillon  or are you going to let a man
catch you?
 Sir?
 No offense, he added and braced as she teetered.
 I m fiiiiine, she insisted, throwing an arm out expansively, splashing him with her drink in the
process. Then she overbalanced. Armadillon dropped his beer and made a grab for her, but came up
short. She toppled and fell directly into Michael s waiting arms. His back barely complained about
the sudden burden of a hundred and ten pounds of dead weight, and he figured he had her to thank for
that little miracle.
 Nice sa-save, she hiccupped.
 Saving you seems to be my new habit.
She looked up at him and her hands found his shoulders.  You re hard, too.
 You don t know the half of it. He set her on her feet, keeping an arm around her waist, and
discretely adjusted the neckline of her slinky little sweater so her bra wasn t peeking out.
 Do I owe you another kis  She hiccupped again.  Another ki uh-oh. She turned away and
stumbled out of his hold.
He caught her around the waist from behind and pulled her hair back.  I ll take a rain check.
She nodded and proceeded to fertilize the grass with what had to be half a pitcher of margaritas.
 She s all yours, sir, Armadillon said, but had the grace to look sheepish as he handed Michael
her purse.
Suitcase, he mentally corrected when he took the large, brightly patterned bag and slung it over his [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]