Sailor Proof (Shore Leave 1)

The community liaison personnel herded us carefully off the buses and into a cordoned-off waiting area where we had a great view of the Sound and the empty dock space where the submarine would moor. I scanned the crowd but didn’t see my parents. Maybe they were stuck in traffic. That would be helpful. I did, however, spot Derrick’s sleazy ex right near the front of the barricades, talking to one of the sailors working crowd control. Probably lining up his next hookup.

“Tell me I’m hotter than him,” I whispered to Sabrina after discreetly pointing him out. Normally I didn’t care at all what I looked like, and clothes were an afterthought at best, but today I wanted to look good in a way I wasn’t sure I ever had before. To that end, I’d let Sabrina mess with my hair before she picked out black skinny jeans, chunky belt, and a white pullover shirt with a subtle rib that made it hug my chest.

She gave me an exaggerated once-over. “Much. Lugging heavy instruments around Boston agreed with you.”

“I also discovered that unlike the horrors of PE class, weight rooms and cardio machines are excellent at focusing my brain for composing.”

“You undoubtedly miss all the cute gym bunnies trying to flirt with you because you’re debating C flat versus F sharp.” Sabrina shielded her eyes as she directed her gaze toward the water.

“Guilty.” I laughed right as a murmur went through the crowd.

“I see something!” a kid yelled.

I’d been here before, on the docks, waiting for a ship to appear on the horizon, but even so I couldn’t help the tremor of excitement that raced through me too. The energy was contagious, and few sights were as impressive as a naval submarine arriving in port. Sailors with life jackets over their gleaming white dress uniforms stood up top, waving. More stood up in the crow’s nest where a giant American flag hung. Not a single person wavered as the ship moved toward us, their footing way surer than mine would have been. The boat churned through the water as smaller ships, the size of fishing boats or small ferries, moved into position to help guide it into the bay and assist with the disembarking sailors.

Even as the ship docked, the sailors were too far away for me to spot either Derrick or Calder. One of the uniformed liaison personnel directed three young women holding tiny babies to step forward as tradition said that any new fathers would be among the first off the boat. Derrick’s ex also got called to the front. Ugh. He was attractive with bleached-blond hair and chiseled features along with a slim body that would have been at home on any swim team, but his entitled attitude ruined any appeal for me.

The crowd whooped and hollered as a brash young lieutenant was first off the boat and gave him a very showy kiss. Lots of cameras flashed and clicked. Bletch.

“I’d bet my new eye shadow palette that they’re broken up by next week,” Sabrina whispered. “Think you can beat that?”

“Oh yeah. That looked fake, even to me,” I agreed even as my pulse sped up.

Three teary enlisted men were next, greeting the women with babies as cameras clicked, and the crowd cheered again. Then more sailors were released and the crowd became increasingly disorganized as people jostled to greet them. I still didn’t see Calder or Derrick, but then the crowd parted slightly and familiar broad shoulders and hazel eyes moved into view.

Damn. How had I forgotten how swoon-worthy Derrick was? My stomach wobbled as my racing pulse reached Indy-500 levels.

“Derrick,” I called out.

Beside me, Sabrina clicked away on her phone camera, but I was only marginally aware of anything other than Derrick’s face as he spotted me. He didn’t smile, but his eyes went wide and locked with mine. If this had been a movie, the music would have swelled right then, a beautiful crescendo, and I wanted to memorize every note so I could use this moment later. I’d never experienced anything quite like the energy arcing between us.

And then his purposeful strides carried him closer. His gaze intensified, if such a thing were even possible, equal parts terror and excitement in his expression. Or maybe that was all me, the way my legs shook and my back sweat.

I had to swallow hard simply to get enough spit to speak. “Welcome home.”

Chapter Three

Derrick

Arthur turned out hot. That was my first thought when I spotted him after I heard my name called. Derrick. My actual name, not Fox, not Chief, and outside of Calder a couple of times, I hadn’t heard that name in months. And definitely not like that, all eager and excited and happy. On the sub, hearing my name inevitably meant that someone needed something right that minute, but the way Arthur said it didn’t inspire dread at all.